AN: I don't know why, but Tofu left a big impact on me. Maybe it was the way I didn't understand a word he/she/it said, or the way it hovered above the floor, or the little 'pop' sounds it made whenever it took a "step". I'm not sure. But Tofu remains in my heart, what with its witty charm and flawed but honest personality. This is it's story...sort of.

About Tofu:

Tofu, also known as bean curd, is a food of Chinese origin, made by coagulating soy milk, and then pressing the resulting curds into blocks. There are many different varieties of tofu, including fresh tofu and tofu that has been processed in some way. Tofu has very little flavor or smell on its own, so it can be used either in savory or sweet dishes, and is often seasoned or marinated to suit the dish.

The TOFU Chronicles

The Tyrants' giant fist ploughed into the concrete wall, sending dust and chips fanning out everywhere. Agent Hunk ducked under the attack, feeling the monsters' knuckles graze over his helmet with a force that would obviously have killed him if it had landed properly. But this didn't worry him much at this point.

Hunk rolled clear of the threat and broke into a crouched run in one fluid motion.

'…Freak.' He muttered through his gas mask, his voice cold and bitter, with a touch of sarcasm. As he ran, he thumbed the last 45 round into his Desert Eagle, knowing it was probably his last chance for survival. His last chance of extraction from Raccoon city before the government nuked the town in about two hours. But this didn't bother him.

He wouldn't miss, after all.

Hunk reached the end of the hall to the door that led out onto the Police Station rooftop, where the extraction chopper would arrive soon. But there was no way the Tyrant would simply wait for Hunk to escape. It had to die, and die fast. The chopper wouldn't wait an extra second for Hunk, as was the policy for the soldiers in the Unit. If you weren't at the extraction point on time, then you never deserved to be in the Unit anyway. As harsh as it sounded, Hunk had to agree with it fully. There was no place for weakness in his position, no place for useless emotions or pointless excuses.

You had to be the best. It couldn't get any simpler than that.

Hunk came to the door and whirled around, his gun ready. The huge, trench-coated Tyrant approached Hunk wordlessly; its imposing stride and thunderous footsteps creaking the floorboards beneath. It was so sure of itself. Thought it had him cornered. Thought him simply as prey.

Wrong. Very wrong.

As it closed the distance, it reared back one of its giant fists and punched at Hunk's torso. The soldier weaved his body sideways, dodging the attack expertly. The Tyrant's punch had been so strong that it pierced right through the steel of the rooftop door, nearly ripping it from its hinges.

Hunk reacted instantly. He took hold of the tyrants arm in a vicious cobra clutch, and drove his knee into its elbow, while at the same time he brought the Desert Eagle down like a hammer and smashed the tyrants arm above the elbow. Hunk felt the bone crack in the tyrant's arm, as the creatures facial features seemed to contort rigidly. He wasn't sure whether the tyrant could feel pain, but perhaps it was shocked that such a thing had happened.

But Hunk wasn't done yet. Immediately following the move, Hunk brought out his combat knife and thrust the blade into the tyrant's forehead. With a sickening crunch, the tip of the knife punched through its skull and embedded 2 inches into its head. Again, the monster barely reacted to the attack, it simply lashed out with its free hand in a ferocious backhand.

Hunk predicted everything. He easily weaved under the attack, and whipped out his hand and tore the knife out of the Tyrant's head!

It roared in fury, tearing away its hand from the broken door and bringing both of its arms up for a brutal overhead attack.

The corridor was too narrow. The Tyrant knew it had him now.

Hunk thought otherwise.

Before the Tyrant attacked, Hunk leaped into the air, his knife in both hands, and drove the blade into the same head wound with chilling precision.

The blade tore through the back of the monsters head with a crack, blood and sinew already pouring from both enter and exit wounds. The knife snapped at the handle as Hunk soared by with the momentum and tumbled to the floor behind the tyrant. He quickly rolled back onto his feet and whipped around, his Desert Eagle ready.

But the tyrant didn't move. It simply stood there, its 8-ft girth frozen.

Then, in stunned silence, it creaked over backwards and collapsed onto the wooden floor, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Hunk simply holstered his gun, the single round still in the chamber, and walked over the tyrant's body.

It had lasted seven seconds. And it could have just as easily spelt his end. But it was of no concern to him.

He was, after all, the best.

And he didn't miss.

WHAM!!

The damaged rooftop door caved inwards as Hunk bashed it from the frame with the heel of his steel-capped combat boot. The door flew end over end before clattering pathetically to the floor. Hunk stepped out into the bitter midnight; the distant moans of the undead carried on the howling wind.

'I'm gonna miss this place.' Hunk mused as he pressed the "talk" button on the hi-tech radio attached to his neck. 'Command, this is Hunk, I've retrieved the G-Virus sample and am currently at the extraction point. Send the-'

Hunk trailed off. The evac chopper was already hovering above the rooftop, its blinding white spotlight illuminating a figure standing before him, waving the chopper down.

'Hunk, this is command.' His earpiece transmitted. 'Our back-up agent already has a G-Virus sample with it. But there's no harm in you bringing a spare.'

He couldn't believe it. Hunk had seen his useless teammates decimated by the mutant Birkin down in the sewers. What the hell were they talking about? A backup agent?!

The chopper in the sky turned slightly as a rope ladder was lowered onto the rooftop via the access hatch. This also had the effect of directing the choppers spot light elsewhere, giving Hunk a clear view of this backup agent.

What he saw before him defied all explanation. This backup agent, the soldier who had reached the extraction point AND acquired the G-Virus sample before him…

…was a giant, white piece of bean curd, shaped like a fridge with gloved hands that mysteriously hovered in midair without the support of arms.

'What…the…shit?' Hunk immediately keyed his radio. 'Command! Is this a joke?!! Quit wasting time with such bullshit!' Hunk roared furiously. He absolutely despised practical jokes or anything of that nature. Once, back at HQ, a rookie named Pokke had pulled the old sugar-me-do when Hunk went for his morning coffee. An hour later, Hunk destroyed the rookie's car with C4.

'Repeat, command. What is this?!'

When the rope-ladder from the chopper hit the ground, the giant bean-curd briskly took a hold of it and started climbing, Hunk still fuming over his radio below.

'Command…you know I hate pointless crap, so please…just tell me the truth.'

'Hunk, please don't make me repeat myself. The backup agent is one Agent TOFU. It was sent in when we lost contact with your team. What's so hard to understand?'

'IT'S A GIANT PIECE OF TOFU!!!' Hunk screamed.

'Where're you going with this?'

'Oh, for the love of…'

As the giant Tofu reached the top of the rope ladder and clambered in through the hatch, the chopper began moving away from the rooftop.

'What the…HEY!'

Hunk leapt into the sky and took a hold of the rope-ladder with his hands; the momentum of the already moving chopper causing it whip side to side dangerously.

Finally, when he pulled himself into the chopper and took a seat in the cargo bay, he found himself face to face with the backup agent Tofu, sitting mutely on the seat opposite.

'We'll reach the rendezvous point on vector 125.9.08, about two hours.' The helicopter pilot reported without turning around, garnering no response from either occupant. 'So once again, you are the only one left, Mr Death…'

The pilot waited for Hunk to say his trademark quote.

Hunk rubbed his temples gingerly through his mask, but decided to go ahead.

'The Death—'

'POP!'

The cabin was silent for a moment. Hunk glared at the Tofu for a while. Had it made that noise? Had it DARED to interrupt his quote?

'Cannot—'

'SQUELCH!'

Hunk was deathly quiet.

'Die.'

'POP! SQUELCH! GUWEEH!'

Hunk snapped. He jumped from his seat and spear tackled the giant Tofu to the cabin floor, landing with an impact that tilted the chopper sharply.

'Enough of this!' Hunk bellowed as he pinned the Tofu to the ground, its floating hands stuck beneath his right knee.

'Captain! What're you doing?!' The pilot screamed incredulously.

'POP,POP,POP,POP,POP,POP,POP!'

Hunk dug his hands into Tofu's neck. Or rather, where he thought its neck would be.

'Time to see who'se in this stupid costume. If it's you in there, Pokke, you better grow some wings.' Hunk seethed, pulling harder.

'wwwWWWOPPPP!!!' The Tofu freed one of its floating hands and proceeded to smack the floor in submission.

'Captain, let him go! Command won't stand for this!'

Hunk broke the hold and left Tofu lying on the floor, defeated. Cursing under his breath, he took his seat again and watched the Tofu groggily stand up and walk over to its own seat.

How does it do that! It doesn't have any legs!!'

As the Tofu sat down once again, it raised one of its hands to its "face" and seemingly traced a tear downwards with its finger.

Hunk just flipped it the bird.

'Right here, buddy.'

An awkward silence followed. Until Hunk finally decided to talk.

'What unit are you with?'

'POP!'

'Rank?'

'SQUELCH!'

'This is so bloody stupid…'

'EEEEEE! PIPPOPPOP!!'

Hunk just shook his head.

'Forget it, do I look like I want you're life story?'

'PIP PIP POP PITYPOPPOP SQEULCH SQUOLCH EEEEEEEEEEEEEE! POP--!!'

Hunk grimaced. Ssssshit

X

AN: Yes, I know. But it can't be helped. I just hope you liked it anyways. Please review!