Author's Note: A story of utter crack to help kill my muse a bit from the angst of all my other works. Chapters are shorter, more like tiny ficlets. So if you don't like, don't read and don't bother me about the length. Dear lord.

Attention: This lovely story is being co-authored by myself and the lovely SuperGirl77, who came up with the entire story and asked me to write it since she didn't want to. We're both a little crazy you see and she demanded I post this now.

Rated: M - for excessive language and possible (we're debating it) porn. But there's definite mentions of porn. If that...helps?

Disclaimer: We do not own Inuyasha. We do not profit from this story.

Winging It

(Or How a Half-Demon Ruled the Underworld One Smirk at a Time)

Chapter One: Of Heaven and Hell

Heaven: beautiful forests, gorgeous towns, pure waterfalls and magnificent creativity. When a person dies they go to that special place – a place that they imagine up, make whatever they want. It can be a jungle filled with purring lions and singing monkeys. It can be a spa with sexy oil-slicked men and dazzling smiles. It can even been a dreary city with ugly vampires that sparkle in the sun.

No matter what your preference, Heaven would make it your world. All you had to do was die and have your soul measured on the Scale of Goodness. If your soul was pure, the scale would remain balanced. If your soul was tainted, it would fall.

That is until he arrived, or more like left since he died and well, left the World of the Living. When his soul was weighed, the scale did a magical thing. Instead of remaining balanced or falling, the plate with the soul actually rose.

Ooh went the angels, all so very curious.

Ahh went the demons, who wanted their fair share.

But it didn't matter because he went to Heaven. He stayed there for four seconds, World of the Living Time. In that time, he managed to break Heaven. Literally, it broke. For the first time in all of Holy Goodness, Heaven was (momentarily) destroyed. All he had to do was sneeze and then the skies of Heaven rained fireballs. No one was hurt because, well, everyone was already dead. But the message to the angels was clear: this man was not Heaven-worthy.

So on the eighth second, Inuyasha Taisho was sent to Hell.

The day Inuyasha died it was pissing rain, with a side of thunder and a shitload of lightning. He should have figured that when he was going die, it wasn't going to be in some epic hand-to-hand battle. It didn't matter that he'd been fighting all of his life, cleaning the streets from worthless pieces of shit and getting every last bag of illegal substance possible. It didn't matter that a gun had been pointed at his chest over fifty times – he'd been shot at thirty-two of those times, four of those actually pierced him somewhere. It didn't matter that he'd been stabbed twice. It didn't matter that he'd been beaten to hell so many times he'd lost count back when he was twenty. It didn't matter that he ended his days with alcohol or greasy food, because his salary wasn't the greatest and he'd be damned if he lived without the good stuff.

No. None of that mattered in the long run. You see, Inuyasha Taisho died in a tragic – yet amazingly funny – death. He slipped on a banana peel.

Yes, actually. The great Inuyasha slipped on a banana peel on a wet-from-the-rain floor and cracked his skull when he landed on said floor with such flailing force that he managed to bleed internally and short-circuit those little communication wires in his brain that told his body to breathe.

Inuyasha always knew that healthy food was going to kill him some day. He never thought of it in a literal sense, which at this moment in the afterlife, he terribly regrets.

Wake the fuck up passengers. The next stop is Hellfire 'D'. Get off and fuck off. Over and out, bitches.

Inuyasha snapped his eyes open as he was suddenly being thrown into the air, arms flailing as they tried to reach for some stability. He quickly patted himself down, making sure there was nothing broken, nothing bleeding. The back of his head was the last thing he felt, kneading at the definitely-not-cracked skull and then running his hands through his long hair. He was in one piece.

Thank god.

And then he saw where he was and started to hyperventilate. Inuyasha was in a bus – a disgusting bus filled with black-crusted spots, stuffing-ripped-out seats and a decapitated Barbie doll swinging in the middle.

"Where the hell am I?" he whispered, whipping his head around.

"Hell, you douche," a male voice answered, sounding far from impressed.

Turning his head, Inuyasha saw a man with long black hair and red eyes. His face was creamy pale, and his hair looked about as greasy as a slice of bacon. He was also wearing power blue eye shadow and was chewing – Inuyasha sniffed the air just to be sure – cherry bubble gum. "What?"

The guy rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "You're in Hell. You know the big fiery pit of doom where all the brimstone and sulphur is at?"

Inuyasha blinked.

"Asshole," the guy muttered. He looked out the window and pouted.

I'm in Hell? Inuyasha thought to himself. Why am I in Hell? He tried to remember. Desperately clinging to whatever memories he had, Inuyasha distinctly heard the sound of music. It was loud and pulsing – annoying, if he remembered correctly – and he was in a hurry to get somewhere. It was raining and he was in a bad mood... And then he slipped on a fucking banana peel.

Right, it probably would've been better if he hadn't remembered that.

Wasn't there a scale of some sort? The harder he thought about it, the more it came to him. Yes, angels and demons had stood around him while his soul was being weighed. It floated in the air, making everyone whisper funny words that he couldn't understand. And then he had been carted away to Heaven – he had definitely been to Heaven.

Why the hell was he in Hell then? Was this some sort of sick nightmare?

You fuckers didn't get off so I'll let you know now. We'll be landing at Hellfire 'E' in two minutes. It's the last stop so if you don't get off, you'll probably get tortured. And by probably, I mean definitely, fuckers.

The speakers threw him off and Inuyasha looked around again. He was still on a bus, apparently in Hell. Why was he in Hell?

Right, he sneezed and made the sky rain fireballs. Go fucking figure.

Inuyasha banged his forehead on the window repetitively, unable to stop himself. Why the hell was this happening to him? How could he die by banana peel and then get kicked out of Heaven? Wasn't death by banana bad enough? Couldn't they have spared him some dignity in the process, let him have a slice of Heaven where he could redeem himself?

It wasn't until then that Inuyasha really looked outside. Slowly turning, he looked at the guy behind him, the one that had spoken to him earlier. "Hey you, can I ask you a question?"

The man looked rather annoyed but nodded anyways, blowing a bubble and then snapping it in seconds.

Inuyasha cringed. "Why are we on a flying bus?"

"The fuck if I know," the guy responded, rolling his eyes again. "You're not too bright, huh? Did you just die?"

Still feeling like his world was spinning out of control – it more or less was – Inuyasha nodded tightly.

"Yeah, you look like fresh meat," the guy responded, waving dismissively. "Don't worry. Once you've been shot a couple times you'll lose that freshly-dead glow. I'm Naraku by the way."

Inuyasha's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Uh, my name is–" Freshly-dead glow?

Naraku was snapping his fingers in Inuyasha's face, dark eyebrows raised dramatically. "Bitch, don't be giving me no lies. I've been in Hell for fucking seventy years now, I know my shit. What's your name dog boy?"

"Inuyasha," he immediately answered, blinking. Dog boy? Was that some sort of Hellish slang? "So wait, let me get this straight: we're on a flying bus and–"

Suddenly the bus was crashing, banging around and nearly throwing him into the roof. Inuyasha yelled, grasping at foam stuffing that had previous been in the seat cover and was now a strange green colour. When everything went back to normal and the bus was still holding together, Inuyasha barely managed to control his panic.

GET OFF THE FUCKING BUS! The speaker crackled loudly, ringing strangely in Inuyasha's ears. He frowned, wondering what he was going to do. He didn't even know where he was!

"Come on baby, follow me," Naraku said, standing up and slapping Inuyasha in the back of the head. "We've got places to be, people to mug and food to steal. Stick with me and you'll be fine."

Inuyasha merely followed him, not daring to think out loud about how he felt very not safe around the power-blue-eye-shadow-wearing man. But then he thought about it; he had been a cop, a fighter. He could do this. He could make it through.

Ignoring the wicked grin from the guy Inuyasha could only assume was the one making the rude announcements on the flying bus speakers, he almost jumped five feet into the air when his ass got slapped. Inuyasha took three deep breaths to calm himself, in his mind chanting the same repetitive mantra: you can survive this, you can survive anything.

I told you: CRACK.

Feedback would be oh so greatly appreciated! And no, this doesn't count as a "real" story, which I will be posting within the next couple of weeks.