All "InuYasha" characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and associated copyright holders. No money is being made from this fan fiction. No infringement is intended. "Detachable Penis" belongs to King Missile.

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover
And my penis was missing again.
This happens all the time.
It's detachable.

"Oh god, I'm gonna hurl again. Fucking sake – never again, Inu, never again! You will never drink like that again!" InuYasha's yellow eyes were bloodshot and swollen as he wandered through his hut, trying to get his bearings and fighting, unsuccessfully I might add, a very, very bad hangover.

The damn monk had decided he and InuYasha needed to celebrate the birth of the twins, the children Miroku never thought he'd get to have and with the amazing Sango no less. So feeling magnanimous and itching to celebrate with the world, the euphoric monk grabbed the next best thing, one surly inu hanyou and proceeded to toast the village far into the night. Well, far into the night and also into part of the early morning.

InuYasha might have been superhuman in his brute strength but he didn't have Miroku's practice or his endurance… or his control. The monk eventually began to drink slower as he became drunker, but the smashed hanyou was having so much fun he just barreled ahead, balls to the proverbial wall until the world decided to spin away into black oblivion. As he swayed on this brutal day after and took stock of his currant state, InuYasha wished the birds half a mile away would quit screeching or his goddamn head was going to explode! The sense of touch is the cornerstone of reality and so as he patted himself down, InuYasha tried to get his shit together.

"Ok – first things first: kosode, hakama…wait a minute, yup, fundoshi, thank god! Check."

"Nothing in my hair – check. I don't know how I missed it. I think I threw up lunch from last week."

Looking suspiciously like he was doing a painful Macarena, InuYasha felt for his most prized possession: Tetsusaiga. He didn't find it – and after a panicked scramble through his other meager belongings, realized it wasn't there. Forgetting himself was a talent InuYasha had mastered through out his long life and frustrated and highly irritated – read, "going absolutely bitch-cakes" - he swore with a shout.

"SHIT!"

Immediately a wave of pain broke across his eyes and suddenly dizzy and nauseated, InuYasha fell to his knees and then in dramatic proof of Newton's great law, hit the floor hard, out cold.

This comes in handy a lot of the time.
I can leave it home, when I think
it's gonna get me in trouble,
or I can rent it out, when I don't need it.
But now and then I go to a party, get drunk,
and the next morning I can't for the life of me
remember what I did with it.


First I looked around my apartment, and I couldn't find it.
So I called up the place where the party was,
they hadn't seen it either.
I asked them to check the medicine cabinet
'cause for some reason I leave it there sometimes
But not this time.
So I told them if it pops up to let me know.

"Oy, fucker! Where's my Tetsusaiga? What the fuck did you do to it?"

The monk was apparently in only slightly better shape than the miserable over-hung hanyou now fisting his hands in Miroku's robes and shaking the man for all he was worth.

"Well, you did leave the inn last night in the company of those charming village girls. I believe I heard one little beauty ask you if the carpet matched the ears, InuYasha, you lucky dog! To be a single man once again…" sighed the monk reminiscing with a sloppy leer plastered across his face.

"Perhaps you should ask her where you left your sword. I believe her name was Izanami. You should at least remember their names if you go home with them, my friend. Don't you remember last night at all, InuYasha?

Miroku didn't like the look on the hanyou's face one bit. First he went white and then he went green and then pulling the monk into his face, InuYasha turned at the last minute and noisily hurled his guts up, again.

"Ewww." mumbled Miroku and hiccupped.

I called a few people who were at the party,
but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate.
I really don't like being without my penis for too long.
It makes me feel like less of a man,
and I really hate having to sit down
every time I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house,
and calling everyone I could think of,

Tracking the girl was no problem and InuYasha thanked any and all gods that his nose didn't hurt at least. He found her sitting in front of a rice pot, toying with the coals underneath it in a dreamy way. InuYasha didn't like the look in her faraway eyes at all. What the hell had he done last night?

Looking around for any onlookers and finding no one paying particular attention, InuYasha approached the girl and folded himself to the ground, not trusting his watery legs to not pitch him into the fire at an inopportune moment. Come to think of it, is there an opportune moment in which to find one's self in a fire pit? Probably not – let's move on.

"Hey."

Looking up with a start, the girl called Izanami found herself eye to eye with the man she had helped home last night. He had been so drunk he could barely stand and she took pity on him after watching the way his friend the monk had enticed the obviously naive hayou into a drinking contest. Serving in the village's inn had taught Izanami the best thing to do with the hopelessly smashed was to scoop them up and take them home. It wasn't the first time she'd done it and it wouldn't be the last. Pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a small smile, Izanami figured she was going to get the usual thanks and apology for her favor. Then she was going to suggest a bath to the hanyou; he reeked of stale sake. But her experience had nothing on InuYasha.

"What did I do with you last night, wench? What did you do with my sword! If you have it, you better give it back to me…right now." InuYasha ended in a growl and blunt as always. InuYasha and diplomacy are mutually exclusive, aren't they?

Izanami's eyes shot wide; she hadn't expected InuYasha's rude demand at all! So she figured she'd fix his dumb ass. Izanami reflected for just a moment, gathering her thoughts to strike and wished the strange miko who once travelled with this particular jerk had taught him some manners. Or at least not to drink so much. "Men…" she mused.

Summoning her most love-struck gaze, Izanami laid it on thick:

"My lord InuYasha, I have been thinking of the night we spent together all this morning. The things we did, the way you held me – I only hope our union will produce a child that I may have a piece of you to cherish always!" She did her best to picture some of the things they might have done and put on a pretty convincing blush. The hanyou was a fine-looking guy, after all. All the girls at one time or another had dreamed a little dream of him. However InuYasha always was pretty good at shooting himself in the foot with his big mouth and now he was going to pay a little for it.

"Cut that out! What about my sword!" he yelled in her face, eyes panicked and blazing.

"Oh yes, my lord – your…sword… was tremendous! So long, so large and the way you held it out for me to touch, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven! Then when you fitted it into its sheathe so tightly… ah! You are a wicked man to make me tell you this! You are a devil!" she giggled at her clever innuendo. You know when you're good!

InuYasha's face was getting the work-out of his life. First red with embarrassment and now into furious purple, he didn't know if he wanted to strangle the girl or be sick with shame. His stomach swung in its slick hammock and he was able to hold down the heaving again – just barely. Unable to keep up the level of anger his mind demanded, he settled on desperation. Grabbing Izanami's hand, InuYasha lowered his eyes and cursed every sake brewer in all of history, past and future. He was never going to drink again – ever.

"Please, girl. Please just tell me – when we left the inn, did I have my sword? And I mean my steel sword. I really need it back, please – for the love of every thing sacred – please tell me you've seen it!" he hissed in a low whine that he hated himself for utterly.

"All you had to do was ask me nicely, since I did nothing but help you, my lord." She conceded graciously. Izanami almost felt sorry for him, almost. Then she remembered getting him home and he kept calling her Kagome and began trying to kiss her. The fact that he kept missing her face and ending up in her hair was funny but you don't encourage a drunken hanyou. She wasn't stupid!

His eyes were nearly blood red with irritation, especially since the girl told him he did not have Tetsusaiga when he was helped to his hut. He was running out of leads, dammit!

"Uh, thanks. Did I really…let you touch my, uh…sword?" InuYasha had to know but lord, he didn't want to. He was a sick pervert, he was sure of it.

"No. You simply leaned on me to walk to your home and then I left you sitting on the floor. You really need to not drink so much at one time, my lord. Are you not ill this morning?" Izanami asked with a gentle smile.

"Oh god – you have no fucking idea." he muttered despondently and left.

I was starting to get very depressed,
so I went to the Kiev, and ate breakfast.

Kaede had to hand it to Miroku; he really had taught InuYasha a valuable lesson: Never, ever try to out-drink a pro. Growing up with Mushin had obviously made Miroku a power drinker, to say the least. She shook her head yet again at InuYasha's pathetic example of the misery that was the Morning After the Fun. Now was one of the many times Kaede was glad she was too smart for that shit.

InuYasha hugged the still-wobbling floor of the old miko's hut and tried to keep down some of her soup. He knew he needed to at least drink something that WAS NOT sake and had tried very hard to that end. InuYasha felt he was at least making some progress; he had only managed to throw up once.

Groaning, he wanted to just die already. Not only was he sicker than he'd ever been in his entire life, but InuYasha was now without his most prized possession. Who the fuck could have taken the damn thing and where the hell had he been to lose it in the first place? His mind was blank from about the time he'd told Miroku that he was his best friend in the whole world and was happy for his happiness to the time he'd blearily opened his eyes and found himself filthy and lying on the floor of his hut. He had no idea what he could have possibly done after the girl had dumped him off.

"InuYasha – did you wake up with any thing unusual about your person this morning? Try to think from the first time you awoke." Kaede suggested helpfully.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you think I've been trying to do, you old bat? I had on my clothes, I didn't have any blood on my hands and I didn't have any vomit in my hair. Wait a minute, I did have some sticks in my hair…I must have gone into the forest!" he groused and with a start of inspiration, leapt to his feet; a hanyou on a mission. Which promptly lead to a hanyou on a non-stop flight to the floor in a dizzy, moaning heap. Kaede sighed again.

"This time, InuYasha, try to get up slowly. Until it resolves itself, the hangover is in charge, not you."

"Don't lecture me, old woman! Just give me a hand and would you stop your spinning floor, I want to get off!" came the miserable retort.

Then, as I walked down Second Avenue
towards St. Mark's Place,
where all those people sell used books
and other junk on the street,
I saw my penis lying on a blanket
next to a broken toaster oven.
Some guy was selling it.

He looked all over the place: in every tree, in every gulley, under every log and rock: no Tetsusaiga. InuYasha was starting to feel a little less like the bottom of a chamber pot after eating some food, but now he just wanted to find his sword, crawl back into his hut, throw a blanket over his head and forget this day had ever happened. Once he did find his precious sword, he figured he'd teach Miroku a bit of a lesson about fucking with him! The more InuYasha thought about beating the monk to a pulp, the more he was itching to do it!

Figuring that taking some of his frustrations out in physical discussion with a certain doomed new father, InuYasha slashed the tree in front of him in half (because it seemed to be asking for it) and bounded quickly off in search of his tormentor.

He found Miroku cleaning his staff and Sango's battle gear, whistling in a serene way that had everything to do with the long shiny black object lying on the blanket at his feet.

The sheathe was gleaming from its fresh coat of wax and the leather handle had been nicely oiled. InuYasha's sigh of relief was quickly strangled by a rolling growl and he leapt onto the monk in righteous fury.

Miroku dodged the irate hanyou with the ease of sobriety and foreknowledge. He'd taken Tetsusaiga last night into safe keeping once he realized InuYasha was an exceptionally cheap date. Fun was fun but he knew his friend would be potentially dangerous with a sword in his drunken claws, so Miroku's light fingers liberated it at the first opportunity. When InuYasha was beside himself over his blacked-out night's activities, Miroku just couldn't refuse a good opportunity to teach InuYasha a lesson: never get in a drinking contest with a pro. They were words to live by, in his humble opinion.

"InuYasha – is this piece of trash yours? What could you possibly want with a rusty old sword? Surely someone of your status would have nicer weaponry at your disposal." Miroku smoothly baited the hanyou in a chipper voice.

Roaring, InuYasha sprang again and was neatly tripped, flipped and pinned by the agile monk. Panting and slightly gagging from the smell of liqueur that wafted back into his face, InuYasha's low voice could have set the grass on fire under his back, he was absolutely powerless in his hung-over state and as a result he was absolutely pissed.

"Give me back my sword or so help me, Miroku, I will rip your lungs out and eat them."

"Well, my friend, considering how hard it was for you to keep soup down this afternoon, I believe you should give it another day before you treat yourself to a big meal." Miroku laughed. He had had his fun at the hanyou's expense and now he needed to wrap this prank up and get back to his chores.

"Miroku…" InuYasha threatened.

"InuYasha, you know you can't get something for nothing! How much is this fine sword worth to you, hmmm?" Miroku's thin smile made the sinking feeling in InuYasha's stomach treble and for the first time today, he was really hoping he could throw up again, all over the scheming monk's sandals. But if it got him his sword back, he'd have to pay. Gods help him.

He was never, ever going to drink again.

I had to buy it off him.
He wanted twenty-two bucks, but I
talked him down to seventeen.
I took it home, washed it off,
and put it back on. I was happy again. Complete.
People sometimes tell me I should get
it permanently attached,
but I don't know.
Even though sometimes it's a pain in the ass,
I like having a detachable penis.