Author's Note: I do not own Psychonauts.
Summary: Agent Nein wanted to kill Zanotto for hostinga party for the Psychonauts. Sasha chuckled in embarrassment, knowing he had far too much to drink. "Milla better not hear my thoughts right now." Rated teen for language and out of self-defense from all you people who hate my writing (joking, people)…
Chapter one- Zanotto, you idiot.
"How sick is that? My own father, too…" Morceau Oleander sobbed into Ford Cruller's shirt as he told his life story in his drunken haze. To Psychonaut Sasha Nein, this was the party from hell. He was escorted to many of Milla's dance parties in the past, against his will nonetheless. This, however, was quite different. Zanotto had called all the Psychonauts down to a "small professional gathering", but Sasha knew it was more than that. The stoic German, who was significantly more interested in his experiments and theories, would have politely declined the invitation. As Sasha was about to call Zanotto to give an excuse for not attending the party, Milla Vodello snuck into his lab and delicately placed her hand on his shoulder. "You know, darling, this party might be fun. I know you are just being yourself, but could you not, just for once?" A normal person would be scared shitless from the intrusion, but Sasha, being psychic, anticipated her arrival. "Agent Vodello, you and I both know this little 'gathering' will be nothing more than Morry getting drunk out of his mind, Ford eating himself sick, and all of the rookies staring at the wall and doing nothing. Besides, I am busy. I have science to entertain myself. I assure you, the world will not end in violent cataclysm if I stay here." Milla furtively pretended to understand as she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, if you insist, I guess you don't have to go. I'll just go all by myself, with nobody to make sure I don't get raped, killed, or kidnapped. I'll see you later, darling." Sasha's head jerked up from his experiments, surprised that Milla had not told him he would be there at six, or told him to wear the striped tie, or anything to that extent. "Really? Well, Milla, I will see you…" Sasha was jerked from his computer and dragged out of his lab. "Just kidding, darling," Milla smirked as Sasha slapped his forehead, as he was obviously expecting way too much maturity from his Brazilian partner.
Author's note:Flames keep the liberal artists warm at night. If youfeelit necessary to the survival of humanity to criticize make sure to refrain from dramatic misspellings andgrammatical errors which hurt my feelings (DoInG tHiS sHiT,saying "awezomez!" or "This suckz!",orworst of all, spelling"grammar" as "GRAMMER"!). Lastly, please try to be constructive. Basically, try not to be clinically stupid. Thank you for your cooperation.
-Farce