GW Goes Python
By: Matsuri
Ok… this would be the product of sever boredom and an insane friends. Sorry to all of you who read it in advance. Any fics I've written in this series, besides being poorly written, are meant to be totally pointless and stupid. FYI- I unfortunately do not own either Gundam Wing or the Monty Python scripts used in here. I'm not making any profit off of this. Oh, and this would be dedicated to the friend who inspired it… Sakura.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nerurisa walks into the studio and flops down in the director's chair. She picks up the stacks of script next to her and flips through. Why on earth was she here? She's a writer, not a director. And just who were these people she was working with? Before she had time to figure that out there was a crash out in the hall.
"Shit!"
"Oh, you did it now…"
"But…"
"Shut up!"
"Where were we supposed to go?"
"Hn."
"HHHEEEERRRROOOOO!!!!"
"Omea o kurosu."
"Can't you just say shut up like everyone else? We all know you're never gonna kill the girl."
A boy with a long chestnut brown braid and violet eyes skips in chanting something along the line of, "Chang-ing Wu-man!" An Asian boy with a very tight ponytail followed, his face bright red in anger. There was another with bright blonde hair pleading with the group to keep it down, and it could be noted rather unsuccessfully. Seconds later, two others followed, totally silent and possible sane on first appearance… except that the one in spandex keeps shooting death glares at the blonde girl following him and her friend who was ranting on war. On second thought, these ones didn't seem very different from the odd assortment of people who came in shortly after.
"What the hell is going on?" she asks blankly sitting up.
"Shinigami lives!" the first boy laughed evilly.
"Shut up, Maxwell!"
Nerurisa shakes her head in confusion, but decides not to ask.
"We're here to run a few scripts…" the short blonde says over the noise.
"Oh, right… and your names would be?"
They all shouted at once, except for the two she'd guessed at being sane. The one in spandex, who had dark hair and cobalt eyes, pulled a gun from nowhere and let a shot go off toward the ceiling. That erased any idea of sanity in the group that the director had. Between the gun's general presence and the shower of plaster, the group went silent. The boy she was speaking to nodded in the other's direction and then turned his attention back to her.
"I'm Quatre… that's Heero, Trowa, Duo, Wufei, Dorothy…"
"I'm the queen of the world!"
"Her name is Relena…"
"AKA the pacifist from hell."
"I believe that…"
"Here we go again."
"I am Shinigami!"
"We know Duo!" they chorus.
"Natuku is better than Shinigami… Nataku conquers all!"
"Nataku sucks Wu-man!"
There was a mad dash around the room before the fifth boy, who had yet to speak up, caught a hold of the raging Asian.
"Stop!" Nerurisa screams, her face slightly flushed with color, "Here are the scripts. Read the first sketch, set up cast, and get moving."
Famous Deaths
Mozart, played by Duo in a very fake whit powdered wig, sits tinkling with Keys on a piano. He was supposed to stop and say his line but instead slams a fist onto the keys in frustration.
"Which key is C?"
"Cut!" Nerurisa yells.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"You're supposed to say the line, Maxwell…"
"Shut up, I didn't ask you!"
"Duo, say your lines."
"But I just…"
"No, you don't need to know C."
"Fine."
They start over and Duo turns from the piano to speak.
"Hello again, and welcome to the show. Tonight we continue to look at some famous deaths…"
Before he could continue a bench leg cracked and he fell over, his wig underneath him creating a huge cloud of dust.
"Stop!" Nerurisa yells through a fit of coughs.
"That was not my fault!"
"Someone get another bench!" She continues, ignoring Duo.
"Well it wasn't!'
"We know, Duo…"
"Shinigami!"
"Whatever…"
Heero picks up the broken bench and steps on Duo to get the leg. Duo screams for him to get off but was ignored. Without another word Wufei was smacked in the back of the head with the piece of wood.
"What was that for Yuy!"
Trowa picked up the leg and stared at, "Wufei… You cut this."
"You can't prove it."
"Wu, I'm gonna kill you!"
There would have been another chase but Heero stopped the boy.
"Enough you two!"
Heero then glares at the director.
"I just… *gulp* um, was gonna say forget it and let's run through the sketch."
"No stops."
"What!?" she yells, but quickly backs off again after receiving a death glare. The sooner they finished, the sooner they'd leave.
Duo repeats his opening, "Hello again, and welcome to the show. Tonight we continue to look at some famous deaths. Tonight we start with the wonderful death of Wu-man…"
"Maxwell, you little…"
"I mean, Genghis Khan, conqueror of India. Take it away Genghis."
Wufei paced around the other set. The Indian-style background music stops, but he stands defiantly.
"This is an insult to my sense of honor and…"
A white object flies through the air, a trail of dust behind it. Wufei is hit in the face and falls hard onto his back. Through a fit of coughs Wufei was heard muttering curses and something about justice. Before he could get up the scene cut to the judges. Relena was playing with her hair, talking to herself, Trowa was staring off set blankly, and Heero sat on the end grimly, trying to keep as far away from Relena as possible.
"Excuse me…" Duo interrupts, snapping them back and suddenly they all hold up cards.
"10.0, 10.0, 10.0… That's 30 points for Mozart's throw!" Quatre chimes in.
Duo smiles proudly, wiping his hands on his pant leg trying to get rid of the dust.
Quatre speaks up again, "9.1, 9.3, 9.7… That's 28.1 for Wu… I mean, Genghis Khan."
"Wait!" Relena yells, "Can I change mine?"
"No!'
"Bad Luck Genghis," Duo says, banging on the piano again, "Nice to have you on the show…not! And now here are the scores!"
St. Stephan 29.9
Richard III 29.3
Jean D'arc 29.1
A. Lincoln (US of A) 28.2
G. Khan 28.1
King Edward VII 3.1
"Well, there you can see the scores now," Quatre continues, "St. Stephan is in the lead there with his stoning, then comes King Richard III at Bosworth Field, a grand death that, then the very lovely Jean D'arc, then Marat in his bath- best friends with Charlotte in the showers afterwards- then A. Lincoln of the US of A, a grand little chap that, and number six, Wu-man Khan, then comes King Edward VIII."
"And at the back marker, Heero Yuy with a lame attempt at a self-destruction and -30 points," Zech chimes in.
Heero shoots him a death glare.
"Back to you Wolfgang."
"Thank you Quatre. And now time for this weeks request death," he continues, picking up a card, Mr. Bruce Foster or Guildford, AKA Mr. Heero Yuy and the death of Relena Peacecraft…"
"That wasn't it!"
"Who cares… I wanna see this one."
Relena was pushed onto the stage and stared around blankly. A wild gunshot hits right in front of her, throwing her to the floor. The scene ends focused on the small hole while Relena could be heard protesting in the background.
Duo looks at his watch and was about to say his line when he was interrupted by Relena's whining and a few Japanese insults coming from the other set.
"Shut the hell up already!"
"Eierian mitai no kao shiyagatte, muko e ike!"
Duo ignores him and turns back to the camera, "Oh, blimey, how times fly… who wrote these damn lines? They suck."
"Cut!"
Nerurisa's chair collapses before she could say anything else, at the hands of Heero of course.
"Sadly, we are reaching the end of yet another program and so it's finale time. We are proud to be bringing you on of the evergreen bucket kickers. Yes, the wonderful death of the famous English Admiral Nelson."
There was a short film of a tall office building where a man jumps out of it and falls to the pavement with a sickening splat.
"Cut," Nerurisa sighs… at least now she could interrupt.
"They all jump at the sound of a pig squealing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
If I get enough requests for it I may just put out the second sketch, 'Italian Lesson.'
E-mail me if you'd like to read it. And I welcome any comments, criticisms, or flames.
By: Matsuri
Ok… this would be the product of sever boredom and an insane friends. Sorry to all of you who read it in advance. Any fics I've written in this series, besides being poorly written, are meant to be totally pointless and stupid. FYI- I unfortunately do not own either Gundam Wing or the Monty Python scripts used in here. I'm not making any profit off of this. Oh, and this would be dedicated to the friend who inspired it… Sakura.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nerurisa walks into the studio and flops down in the director's chair. She picks up the stacks of script next to her and flips through. Why on earth was she here? She's a writer, not a director. And just who were these people she was working with? Before she had time to figure that out there was a crash out in the hall.
"Shit!"
"Oh, you did it now…"
"But…"
"Shut up!"
"Where were we supposed to go?"
"Hn."
"HHHEEEERRRROOOOO!!!!"
"Omea o kurosu."
"Can't you just say shut up like everyone else? We all know you're never gonna kill the girl."
A boy with a long chestnut brown braid and violet eyes skips in chanting something along the line of, "Chang-ing Wu-man!" An Asian boy with a very tight ponytail followed, his face bright red in anger. There was another with bright blonde hair pleading with the group to keep it down, and it could be noted rather unsuccessfully. Seconds later, two others followed, totally silent and possible sane on first appearance… except that the one in spandex keeps shooting death glares at the blonde girl following him and her friend who was ranting on war. On second thought, these ones didn't seem very different from the odd assortment of people who came in shortly after.
"What the hell is going on?" she asks blankly sitting up.
"Shinigami lives!" the first boy laughed evilly.
"Shut up, Maxwell!"
Nerurisa shakes her head in confusion, but decides not to ask.
"We're here to run a few scripts…" the short blonde says over the noise.
"Oh, right… and your names would be?"
They all shouted at once, except for the two she'd guessed at being sane. The one in spandex, who had dark hair and cobalt eyes, pulled a gun from nowhere and let a shot go off toward the ceiling. That erased any idea of sanity in the group that the director had. Between the gun's general presence and the shower of plaster, the group went silent. The boy she was speaking to nodded in the other's direction and then turned his attention back to her.
"I'm Quatre… that's Heero, Trowa, Duo, Wufei, Dorothy…"
"I'm the queen of the world!"
"Her name is Relena…"
"AKA the pacifist from hell."
"I believe that…"
"Here we go again."
"I am Shinigami!"
"We know Duo!" they chorus.
"Natuku is better than Shinigami… Nataku conquers all!"
"Nataku sucks Wu-man!"
There was a mad dash around the room before the fifth boy, who had yet to speak up, caught a hold of the raging Asian.
"Stop!" Nerurisa screams, her face slightly flushed with color, "Here are the scripts. Read the first sketch, set up cast, and get moving."
Famous Deaths
Mozart, played by Duo in a very fake whit powdered wig, sits tinkling with Keys on a piano. He was supposed to stop and say his line but instead slams a fist onto the keys in frustration.
"Which key is C?"
"Cut!" Nerurisa yells.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"You're supposed to say the line, Maxwell…"
"Shut up, I didn't ask you!"
"Duo, say your lines."
"But I just…"
"No, you don't need to know C."
"Fine."
They start over and Duo turns from the piano to speak.
"Hello again, and welcome to the show. Tonight we continue to look at some famous deaths…"
Before he could continue a bench leg cracked and he fell over, his wig underneath him creating a huge cloud of dust.
"Stop!" Nerurisa yells through a fit of coughs.
"That was not my fault!"
"Someone get another bench!" She continues, ignoring Duo.
"Well it wasn't!'
"We know, Duo…"
"Shinigami!"
"Whatever…"
Heero picks up the broken bench and steps on Duo to get the leg. Duo screams for him to get off but was ignored. Without another word Wufei was smacked in the back of the head with the piece of wood.
"What was that for Yuy!"
Trowa picked up the leg and stared at, "Wufei… You cut this."
"You can't prove it."
"Wu, I'm gonna kill you!"
There would have been another chase but Heero stopped the boy.
"Enough you two!"
Heero then glares at the director.
"I just… *gulp* um, was gonna say forget it and let's run through the sketch."
"No stops."
"What!?" she yells, but quickly backs off again after receiving a death glare. The sooner they finished, the sooner they'd leave.
Duo repeats his opening, "Hello again, and welcome to the show. Tonight we continue to look at some famous deaths. Tonight we start with the wonderful death of Wu-man…"
"Maxwell, you little…"
"I mean, Genghis Khan, conqueror of India. Take it away Genghis."
Wufei paced around the other set. The Indian-style background music stops, but he stands defiantly.
"This is an insult to my sense of honor and…"
A white object flies through the air, a trail of dust behind it. Wufei is hit in the face and falls hard onto his back. Through a fit of coughs Wufei was heard muttering curses and something about justice. Before he could get up the scene cut to the judges. Relena was playing with her hair, talking to herself, Trowa was staring off set blankly, and Heero sat on the end grimly, trying to keep as far away from Relena as possible.
"Excuse me…" Duo interrupts, snapping them back and suddenly they all hold up cards.
"10.0, 10.0, 10.0… That's 30 points for Mozart's throw!" Quatre chimes in.
Duo smiles proudly, wiping his hands on his pant leg trying to get rid of the dust.
Quatre speaks up again, "9.1, 9.3, 9.7… That's 28.1 for Wu… I mean, Genghis Khan."
"Wait!" Relena yells, "Can I change mine?"
"No!'
"Bad Luck Genghis," Duo says, banging on the piano again, "Nice to have you on the show…not! And now here are the scores!"
St. Stephan 29.9
Richard III 29.3
Jean D'arc 29.1
A. Lincoln (US of A) 28.2
G. Khan 28.1
King Edward VII 3.1
"Well, there you can see the scores now," Quatre continues, "St. Stephan is in the lead there with his stoning, then comes King Richard III at Bosworth Field, a grand death that, then the very lovely Jean D'arc, then Marat in his bath- best friends with Charlotte in the showers afterwards- then A. Lincoln of the US of A, a grand little chap that, and number six, Wu-man Khan, then comes King Edward VIII."
"And at the back marker, Heero Yuy with a lame attempt at a self-destruction and -30 points," Zech chimes in.
Heero shoots him a death glare.
"Back to you Wolfgang."
"Thank you Quatre. And now time for this weeks request death," he continues, picking up a card, Mr. Bruce Foster or Guildford, AKA Mr. Heero Yuy and the death of Relena Peacecraft…"
"That wasn't it!"
"Who cares… I wanna see this one."
Relena was pushed onto the stage and stared around blankly. A wild gunshot hits right in front of her, throwing her to the floor. The scene ends focused on the small hole while Relena could be heard protesting in the background.
Duo looks at his watch and was about to say his line when he was interrupted by Relena's whining and a few Japanese insults coming from the other set.
"Shut the hell up already!"
"Eierian mitai no kao shiyagatte, muko e ike!"
Duo ignores him and turns back to the camera, "Oh, blimey, how times fly… who wrote these damn lines? They suck."
"Cut!"
Nerurisa's chair collapses before she could say anything else, at the hands of Heero of course.
"Sadly, we are reaching the end of yet another program and so it's finale time. We are proud to be bringing you on of the evergreen bucket kickers. Yes, the wonderful death of the famous English Admiral Nelson."
There was a short film of a tall office building where a man jumps out of it and falls to the pavement with a sickening splat.
"Cut," Nerurisa sighs… at least now she could interrupt.
"They all jump at the sound of a pig squealing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
If I get enough requests for it I may just put out the second sketch, 'Italian Lesson.'
E-mail me if you'd like to read it. And I welcome any comments, criticisms, or flames.