Kaeru no Kero Koro Ni
Welcome To Keron
My name is Sgt. Kanana and I am the current head of the Ex-Keroro Platoon since… Well, two hours ago when Former Sgt. Keroro was found having been strangled to death. His cold, froggy corpse was found slumped underneath his bedroom window. His eyes had popped and his tongue was hanging out. So, all in all, a pretty good day.
"Yeah. He's dead."
He won't be missed.
"What gave you that idea, sir? The fact that he's not breathing? Or the fact that he no longer has eyes?" Private Who-Gives-A-Crap Tamama pipes up because, yeah, what else was he gonna do? Keep his trap shut for five seconds? I swear, this kid has a rock for a brain. And not even a good rock. Like… A frigging chalky sidewalk rock. Like, the whitey dusty ones that get crap all over your clothes? And then you go to the drycleaner? And the drycleaner is having an affair with your wife? So it's SUPER awkward? And you just want to shout 'GO SCREW YOURSELF!' but, like, you don't want him to mix your clothes with the clothes of the 1 month old child in front of you in the line who's covered in his own puke and you want to just SET THE DAMN LAUNDROMAT ON FIRE BUT EVERYONE'S LOOKING AT YOU LIKE YOU'RE A CRAZED PSYCHOPATH AND YOUR LIKE DAMN IS THAT WHAT I LOOK LIKE HEY I SEE YOU PEEKING OVER YOUR 'NEW FROG' MAGAZINE HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I WASHED YOUR… UGLY… FAT… FACE, GRANDMA!? Or grandpa… Idunno. Old people frogs are pretty androgynous? Point is, I have this kid in my platoon now. And I hate him.
"Actually, it's the fact that he stinks like a rotting corpse." I finally reply.
"No, actually. That's just how always smells."
"Wait. Really?"
"Yeah… Living in a basement and spending all day eating snacks and watching anime does that to you."
"Oh… Cool."
And then we sit in awkward silence for an hour.
"So… Are we going to recap the crime or something now, Sir?"
"No."
And then we sit in awkward silence for an hour.
"But, what if we-"
"No, shut up, Tamama."
And then we sit in awkward silence for an hour.
"Can we at least examine the bod-"
"Ew. No."
And then we sit in awkward silence for a-
"Finished!"
The charming and buttery tones of Sgt Major Asshole (Kururu) whinge from the door way as he walks in laughing his smug douche laugh. I swear, if this man was on radio, I'd kill him. And then I'd kill him again. Because killing him once wouldn't be enough to forgive the auditory assault that is his goddamn voice.
"Finally! You're finished!" I cheer. "Finished what?"
"The thing you ordered, Sergeant… Kukuku…"
"A Big Mac and Fries?"
"No."
"Okay."
"…The interdimensional transporter."
"With fries?"
"I'm sure there's fries in the Hell Dimension, Sergeant. Kukuku…" He chuckles and I imagine throttling him.
"Okay, open the portal to the hell dimension." I decide, wisely.
"No."
"Go screw yourself."
"I already did, Sergeant. Kukukuku…"
"Ew. Or is that normal for frogs?"
"Don't ask me, I'm not a biologist."
"A frogologist." I astutely correct him.
"No. It's biologist."
"Not if you're smart."
"Your IQ is the lowest number on your stat score. Kukuku…"
"Yeah, because my muscle stats are so damn high."
"Can we just summon the child and get this over with?" Corporal RedOne (I forget his name) finally pipes up after cleaning his gun the whole time. What a creep. I bet he wants to marry the gun. Like… A Shotgun Wedding. Heheh… Get it? No? You get it.
Anyway, so he opens the portal and this kid comes out and he's wearing glasses and a bowtie and I can't help but think he gets beaten up at school. Because, I mean, what self-respecting parent lets their kid go out in a… what? Little blue suit with suspenders and glasses and a BOWTIE! I am an INTERGALACTIC SPACE TOAD (and that is OUR WORD, btw. Toad is, like, the most offensive thing you can call us if you don't know us. Be safe, kids.) and even I'VE seen The Breakfast Club. Or was it Breakfast at Tiffany's? Point is, if your kid is a nerd don't dress him as a nerd because then he'll get beaten up. By me. I'll pop up out of the ground and punch your kid in the face while he's walking to class and laugh at him for being such a nerd. And, like, COME ON. It's not even hard to not dress them as a nerd. Put them in a leather jacket, give them sunglasses, get them smoking from age 1 month old and then put on some of them cool kid fake tattoos. Yeah, man. Those tattoos are super cool. Like, he can have a pirate skull or a snake or a… is that a happy face? WTF KIND OF TATTOO IS A HAPPY FA- WTF IS THIS CRAP?! Okay! Don't put the happy face sticker on, but do definitely make him wear the cool skull one and he'll be getting all those kindergarten ladies. He'll be so cool, people will forget that you are a terrible parent and should be reported for letting your kid smoke and wear a leather jacket to school. I mean, who does that!?
Anyway, long story short I tried to punch the nerd kid but he kicked me in the head and I think I'm dead now? Not sure.
Anyway, crappy J-Rock played and I watched an OP with the most piss-poor animation I've seen since Garzey's Wing and according to Wikipedia this kid HAS OVER 500 EPISODES TO HIS ANIME AND HE STILL HASN'T CAUGHT THE MIB HOLY CRAP ISN'T THE AUTHOR WORRIED ABOUT LIKE EARTH EXPLODING BEFORE THIS KID FREAKING CATCHES THESE ASSHOLES?!
"So, you're Mr. Detective Conan?" I greet him with a firm handshake. He nods.
"Yes, I am the Detective Conan. And I have come to solve your murder mystery."
"You're not questioning why a bigass frog is talking to you?"
"Well, I snorted 50 lines of bath salts earlier…"
"Oh. Yeah, that'll do it."
"Cool. Let's rock."
"Oh. Is that a thing you say?"
"Is what a thing I say?"
"Let's rock. Is that canon?"
"Oh, yeah. Totally. All of this is canon. Every last word."
"Even the part where Giroro turns into a giant cow and wanders a labyrinth for a week and suddenly becomes some kinda genius cow?"
"Wait wha-"
"SHUT UP RED ONE NO-ONE CARES ABOUT YOU!"
"WHAT THE HELL IS WITH THIS RED ONE CRAP?! YOU LITERALLY JUST USED MY NAME!"
"Do you think it's kinda hard for the reader to tell who's talking when we don't, you know sign post it? Heheh…"
At Detective Conan's words, me and Mr. Grumpy stop and he's standing there like he's the king of the castle but HE'S NOT!
"Shut up and solve the mystery, mystery boy."
"My name is Jimmy Kudo."
"…You're Japanese. Where the HELL did you get the name Jimmy?!"
"Uh… I meant Shinichi?"
"But..." Tamama butts in with his big fat butt. "I thought your name was Detective Conan."
"Oh. Yeah. It is. Shinichi is my, uh… Neighbours name."
"…Sounds legit."
And since this kid seems totally legitimate and, as we all know, children make the best detectives and don't become horribly traumatised when exposed to crime scenes we let him play with the dead body and stuff. I don't really know. I left the room to go see what I could buy off intergalactic craigslist.
"Shouldn't we be helping him investigate, Sir?" Tamama pipes up and I back flipper (Are they called flippers? I am way too half-asleep to google that? Web hand? Iunno) him across the face like the little poop tadpole he is.
"Nah, he's 10. He'll be fine. Because, as everyone knows, children are the best detectives ever. Why! They can even defeat literal gods if they find enough katana's in the garbage! Or, like, grow ponytails and solve alchemist house crap! Or… Or... Incite their girlfriend to murder their family and then spend a million years yapping about it only to find their parents did it and they were drowned the whole time and also the red truth means literally nothing and makes no sense."
"Thir-" Tamama spits out a tooth even though frogs cant grow teeth? "You already made that joke. Altho, thothe were all teenagerth."
"You sound like the ear biting guy, Tamama. Stop that." And I squeeze his head so hard his teeth regrow.
"Ow." He rubs his jaw. "Okay, but… Shouldn't we still do SOMETHING!? Anything?!"
"Nah, I have way too much dignity to actually put effort into investigating when I'm in a fanfiction literally written at midnight by an overtired teenager who's supposed to be, like, doing homework or something. What a lazy cow."
"Yeah, he's a dick."
"I hope he gets hit by a bus."
"I hope he gets eaten by an antelope."
"Do antelope actually eat people?"
"Nope, Sir! But I think they'd make an exception."
"Yeah, what a lazy cow."
At that moment, Detective Conan opens the door and he's all like "one truth prevails" and "the killer is in this room" and "my little grey cells" and "oh me knickerbockers are in a twist again."
"Well, Sgt. Kanana, I've finished my investigation."
"Took you long enough."
"It took me, like, under a page!"
"Touche…"
"Actually, it's pronounced touché."
"Uh, no. I think I'd know how to speak the Franceglish. I listened to two whole audiobooks on the language while I was on the john this one time."
"…Oh. We're resorting to toilet humour?"
"…You didn't think this fanfic had standards, did you?"
"No, I mean… I didn't but… I'm still surprised."
"Woooooooooow. You are way too optimistic to be alive in fanfiction world."
"Why's that?"
"Because I read the ConanXTetris Block Shipfic."
"…" And then he vomits all over the nice rug. A rug I'm not paying the bill for the drycleaning of.
"In any case," He says, wiping his shirt on his sleeve because he's an unhygienic little cretin, "I'll need to see the crime recap you made."
"Oh." I stop. "Yeah, we didn't make one of those."
"What?" He's got genuine surprise in his face. "How do you not have one of those prepared?"
"Well, for one, I'm lazy. And secondly, hiring the grey guy wasn't in our budget."
"Oh. He's become a pretentious douche after he starred in Les Miserable."
"Who did he even play?"
"Oh, you know the loaf of bread that gets stolen?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, that has nothing to do with this. He plays Russel Crowe."
"Oh, that makes sense. He played the part pretty well."
"Yeah, he was slightly less cardboard than the real thing."
"How convenient." Wait no that's not how you use that phrase.
Do you think this is going to be entertaining when you wake up tomorrow you hack? No. It wont. Its not even a trainwreck. Its just trash. Go to sleep you dimwit.
No? Okay, then. Keep going…
So, anyway, a bunch of stuff happens and Detective Conan skips to his deduction without showing us any of the clues because let's face it. Only kids need clues to solve mysteries. Real men meta through it.
"Okay, everyone. I've solved the mystery. One truth prevails!" He announces because he's the boss of everyone obviously.
"Why did you say that at the end?"
"One truth prevails?"
"Yeah."
"Oh… Right, that's a verbal tic and it sometimes comes out."
"Oh. Yeah. That explains it."
"In any case, allow me to recap my solution. Obviously the killer is…."
DRAMATIC FINGERPOINT!
Did you just narrate the words dramatic fingerpoint?
Yes I did. What of it?
You can't just do that. It's cheating.
Your wife is cheating.
oh.
"Anyway, yeah. They're playing Yumihiko's theme so that means it's time for the reveal of the TRUTH! THE KILLER IS-"
DRAMATIC FINGER- pls no.
"THE CAT; MRS FURBOTTOM!"
"Meow meow, bitch. Meow." The cat stands up on it's hind legs and hisses at Detective Conan and, tbh, I thought he was gonna die but the cat just crossed it's arms and got all angry.
"Where's your proof, meow?"
"HOLY CRAP THE CAT IS TALKING!"
This is the point where Kururu starts laughing. What a panera bread half-price loon.
"Kukuku… Now, you're just making up insults."
"You can read minds?"
"No, just text."
"Oh. Cool."
"Anyway, I used this handy dandy animal translator gun to give the cat the ability of human speech."
"You just made that up on the spot."
"Yes."
So, the cat prances about on it's hindlegs demanding proof but Detective Conan summons a hoard of satanic hellbeasts from literally nowhere and they fire off a bunch of these red truth spears which turn into oh my god it's 1:00am wtf am I writing help
"I have all the proof I need right here. And by proof, I mean baseless conjecture. And by baseless conjecture, I mean a theory. And by a theory, I mean I'm going to make something up and it'll somehow be true. AND THAT WILL BE THE TRUTH THAT PUTS THE CAT IN THE BAG!
You see, you murdered Sgt. Keroro because he killed Mr. Furbottom! Your husband. You did it by handing him the rope and telling him it was a super stylish necklace and then he put it on and you strangled him. And then you left."
"But Detective Conan the Barbarian there is a major flaw in your theory…"
"And what is that?"
"CATS DON'T HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS! SO HOW DID I STRANGLE HIM?!"
"Heh… That was a clever trick, but I see right through it. You are no cat. You are… A CATGIRL!"
:OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"How did you know?!"
"Well, how are you talking if you're not a catgirl?"
"Kururu's magic gun?"
"No, he admitted to making that up."
"But why would he make it up?"
"Because you were having an affair with him."
"Oh, okay. That makes sense."
"Anyway, yeah. That's what happened."
Detective Conan bows and the crowd cheers… Wait. What crowd? Where did this crowd come from? And why are they chanting dad? Dad? Dad? Daaaa…
"Dad? DAD! WAKE UP!"
A sharp whack to the head wakes Kogorou Mouri up from his deep slumber. Before him, a crowd of people stand in a circle around him. Most seem to be surprised or excited. A few are crying, worried.
"Eh?" He asks. "What happened?"
Looking up, he sees the cause of the attack. His daughter, Ran, standing above him. An irritated expression on her face.
"You just solved the murder of Kenji Kawaro, the famous writer, remember? But you were so exhausted from working it out, you instantly fell asleep?"
"Huh? I did that?"
He looks around, confused. Finally, his eyes settle on the young boy sitting next to him and for a fleeting second a nagging, insane thought tugs at his mind. But he ignores it, instead going for triumphant laughter.
"I mean… Hahaha! Of course I did! It was no problem at all!"
He grins, hands on hips, chest thrust out.
"After all, nothing is a challenge for Super Sleuth Kogorou Mouri!"
The End (FINALLY!)
