Foreword: Yes, before we get into this I had better explain… Okay, there really is no explanation for this story. This is one of the older one-shots I needed to repost, but I have rewritten certain parts. Again, this was originally written sometime in 2003. I would run while you still can.
XXXXXXXX
~ Of Hot Dogs and Desert Sands ~
XXXXXXXX
"Hello, my name is Zell."
"Hello Zell," the assembly replied in unison.
"What brings you to our group this evening?" asked the moderator.
The room was small, trying to give the area that 'homey' atmosphere. Folding chairs formed a circular pattern, twelve people from all walks of life sat gathered for support.
"Because… I have a problem."
"What is it Zell? Can you tell us about your problem?" The others encouraged him, by either nodding silently or with murmurs of support. This is what the group met here for, to help understand and come to terms with their greatest fears.
"I have a fear… a fear of…"
"You can say it, you're among friends."
"Hot dogs."
Angry gasps were heard throughout the room. "Sir, we are a support group for persons with the fear of animals. Most of us have either suffered a tragic encounter or live in the fear of being attacked."
"Yes, I understand that… but before you judge me, please let me explain what happened. It was three weeks ago, we were on a routine mission. Unfortunately, I found myself separated from my friends… I was alone… stranded in an arid desert.
I was far from civilization… far from a cafeteria…"
This is my story…
"Zell would you please stay with us," Squall spoke in that 'ever-so-annoyed-commander-like' tone.
"I was, but somebody tied my shoelaces together… again." The martial artist glared at Seifer who smirked innocently.
"Shocking," said Squall, never turning his head. "Three times on one mission. Imagine that. That's a new record, I believe."
"It's not fair. Seifer just lives to torment me!" Zell spoke quickly, trying to mount some feeble defense. He stopped dead in his tracks, waving his arms try to emphasize his point. Squall and Seifer halted, half listening as the martial artist continued on about the multiple 'shoelace incidents.'
"I'm not sure who I'm more upset with, Seifer for doing it or you for falling for it… three times. Highly trained military machine my ass."
"Squall that's not fair… Seifer was just being… mean."
"Yes, I can hear it now, " the commander replied in a monotone voice. "Please officer, I know we are at war and everything… just don't be mean."
"Squall, I think you are mocking me."
"Me?" The commander answered remaining serious. "I don't mock. I am completely unable to do that… it's just not in my nature."
"Sure Squall… whatever." Zell took a step forward before falling face first into the sand.
The commander looked down shaking his head. "By the way, while you were stopped, Seifer tied your shoelaces together… again."
Brushing himself off, Zell stood up catching up to the others. "Come on Squall, you're going to let him get away with that? It's harassing a team member. Remember team… the three of us…"
"No," Squall quickly retorted. "It's like I am the commander and you two are Garden's equivalent of Biggs and Wedge."
"Wait," Seifer mumbled breaking his silence, "they are morons."
"Yes, they are. And I saw the way they managed to handle driving Galbadian equipment… Somehow, I was reminded of you two. I've seen Zell drive - it's far from pretty. And Seifer, you were the only kid I know banned from buying toy cars for too many driving infractions."
"That hurts commander puberty. I mean I understand the Chicken-Wuss not driving… but me?"
"Seifer, I only have six words for you: most downloaded video on the internet."
"Leonhart that's not fair, I wasn't paying attention to the road… Quistis was…" Seifer trailed off, immediately turning five shades of red. Scratching his head, Seifer tried to come up with anything… but the truth.
"Quistis was teaching me how to drive a stick… and er… um... no… She spilled coffee on my lap… and oh crap… It doesn't matter anyhow, the charges were reduced to community service. Plus, why in the hell would the Balamb police department have video cameras in their cars? And why did they have to pull me over in front of everyone at the busiest truck stop on the continent… Not to mention in front of the bus load of senior citizens on vacation. It was a conspiracy, I tell you!"
"Best. Video. Ever," Zell spoke up. "Too bad the officers took pity on you… you're lucky they were so busy laughing at your boxers… you know the ones with the dancing badgers… that they couldn't bear to arrest you outright. Though the public humiliation was priceless… I even sent a copy of the tape to Ma… it's a Holiday classic."
Squall checked his watch. "As much as I would love to continue this trip down memory lane, we really need to head back. Rinoa's cooking dinner for me tonight and I have to make it to the cafeteria early enough to eat… before I get home."
"Oh, did the fire marshal finally allow her near the gas stove again?" Seifer asked raising a questioning eyebrow. Squall didn't answer. "Oh got it… microwave."
"Hey, at least she tries. Rinoa is good at more important things."
With that open-ended comment, both guys turned to look at Squall... who was now turning the same color as Seifer only moments ago. He quickly realized his mistake. Growing slightly angry, he replied, "Well hey, at least my butt isn't posted all over the internet…"
"That hurts commander… the lighting at night didn't do it proper justice."
Eventually, the trio reached the landing ramp of the Ragnarok. Squall quickly made his break from the others. There was only so much socializing that he could do in one month and he well passed that quota today.
"I'm piloting. Seifer, put all the Cactuar thorns in storage… Zell, go to the galley and see if there's anything edible down there… or check the medicine cabinets for antacid. I need to be prepared for tonight."
Seifer continued onward, now carrying all the thorns in his arms. After sadly coming up empty in the kitchen, much to Squall's chagrin, Zell was ordered to do the pre-flight check on the landing gear.
The desert sun was nearly blinding and it gave the appearance of the sand cascading like an ocean. As Zell worked, he noticed a golden shimmer far off in the distance. Being the curious creature that he was, he immediately felt the overwhelming urge to investigate. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue, but as he yelled up to Seifer, his words went unheard. Unfortunately for him, Seifer was so busy practicing his part in the children's fall musical (aka court ordered community service) that the martial artist's words fell on deaf ears, which also included Squall, who had thankfully found a spare pair of earplugs.
A few minutes later, Squall removed the earplugs only long enough to ask over the comm if Zell had made it aboard. Not wanting break his five bar dance solo, Seifer gave the all clear. It couldn't possibly take that long to check the gear…
As Zell approached the shining object, the wind suddenly picked up and swirling sand pelted him in the face. In a horrible epiphany, he realized that the 'wind' was actually the thrusters of the Ragnarok. He tried to signal the ship frantically, but sadly, to no avail… Seifer was too busy concentrating on nailing the landing on his dramatic split leap and Squall trying to conceive another way to discard his food for the evening… Damn Angelo wouldn't even eat it Rinoa's cooking. Dumb dog.
So Zell was stranded in the barren wasteland… the desert. By himself, alone, no one to talk too… not even that annoying running kid who circles the halls of Balamb Garden. Zippo. He knew his friends would remember him eventually… right? Yeah, like tomorrow. Figuring that he had nothing better to do with his newfound solitude, Zell reached for the object that had caused this disaster in the first place.
At first glance, it appeared to be a discarded old oil lamp. His mind quickly raced to the thoughts of the old lamp Cid had given to Squall at the onset of their first mission. Diablo was such a stroke of good luck… maybe there would be a cool GF inside this one too! But, he was alone (Remember… himself, alone, yadda yadda yadda) and rubbing the lamp could be a very risky move. However, this was Zell that we're talking about… The guy who would push the button clearly marked 'don't push' just to see what would happen. The guy who would enter the door marked 'do not enter' just to see what was on the other side. Yeah, that Zell. So of course, he pushed the button… er… no sorry, he rubbed the lamp.
What appeared was more magnificent than anyone could have anticipated. A golden glow radiated out of the lamp, followed by small steaks of electrical discharge…. Finally, an opaque figure emerged from a stream of shadowy smoke.
"You have awakened the Guardian of the Sands. For freeing me, you shall receive three wishes. But pick wisely… the wrong decision could have ever lasting consequences…"
"Three wishes, really? That's so damn awesome!" Now before Zell could stop to think about his wishes, his stomach growled and thirst was growing throughout his body. He didn't mean to say it aloud, but it just kinda slipped through his lips, "I wish I had a soda and a hot dog."
Crap.
He then realized his mistake… Well first, he realized he forgot to put an "s" at the end of hot dog. Secondly, it dawned on him that he had inadvertently wasted two wishes, one on a hot dog, and one on a soda… Before he could try to rescind his request, the Guardian nodded.
The martial artist figured at least he would get some food and drink out of his lapse of stupidity. What Zell wasn't counting on was the "fine print." Yes, the thing that had been the downfall of many good wishes in the past. The stuff that only people with no life, or Squall, would actually take the time to read.
To Zell's misfortune, the soda came first. Again, if he had read the 'fine print,' he would have known to be specific… like to ask for a cup to put said drink in. So, as he stood in the god-awful heat, what had to be the equivalent of one of those super-sized sodas was quickly dumped over his head. Yes, sugary sticky liquid in temperatures hot enough to fry a Chocobo egg… everyone's dream come true.
Okay, his bad. He got the message clearly, 'always specify a cup.' At this point, he figured he would at least have his hot dog to drown his sorrows in… Even if he didn't wish for a bun, a hot dog by any other name would still taste as delicious. Food was still food after all… right?
Wrong.
Definition:
Hot: Adjective. At a high temperature.
Dog: Noun. A common quadruped of many breeds. Frequently referred to as 'man's best friend.' A canine.
Put the two together… darn small print again… and you get a dog that lives in high degrees of heat… better known as…
Cerberus appeared in whirlwind of sand. Yes, that's right… the GF formerly known as Cerberus… he changed his name to a symbol just to piss off Cid. It worked.
Zell slapped his head in horror. Not only did he waste two wishes, he now had to contend with the most self-absorbed GF this side of Dollet. The one that even Pandemonium declared a wind-bag. Desert heat, no water, and a three-headed 'hot dog.'
"What the?" growled one head to the other two. "I was just about to beat Ifrit at poker for the first time ever!"
All three heads exchanged disgusted looks before turning their attention toward a semi-terrified Zell.
"Hiya fellows… um, there has been a slight misunderstanding."
"I would think so," snapped the center head. "This better get good real quick or we're now looking at tonight's main course." All three heads licked their chops in unison, growling. (Did I mention Cerberus had a very overdramatic side?)
"Um, it started when, Seifer tied my shoelaces together… and then I found a genie, received three wished, but I kinda-sorta didn't know about the fine print."
"Oh no, not again," cried the first head. "And you asked for a hot dog… you don't know how many times we've heard that story. Let me guess… you wasted your other wishes on things just as useless."
"Er…. something like that," Zell muttered scratching his head.
"Well… I don't see Shiva around here," moaned the second head. "So we can assume you didn't ask for a chili-dog."
"Wha?" Zell asked in confusion.
"Yes, when people ask for a chili-dog they get Shiva, cuz she is one Cold Bit-"
"Shut your mouth!" screamed the first head to the second.
"I'm just talking about Shiva… she's one bad…"
"Quiet! You're just mad at her because she picked that hot stud Tonberry over you."
"Damn him and his big knife."
The first and third heads made a high-five motion with their heads. Which trust me, wasn't easy.
After a moment of eyeing Zell as if he was the illegitimate son of Norg and the Card Queen, the GF moved closer. (Which, by the way, the author is making no reference that Mr. Norg is the biological father of Zell. That is up for the DNA testing to decide.)
"Fine," spoke the lead head. "I guess since we're going to be stranded together for awhile, I should formally introduce ourselves. I am Diomedes, in the center is Hephaistos, and the one drooling on the other end is Frank."
"I'm Zell."
He offered his hand to the creature, but all they did was look blankly at him. Nobody moved until some stray drool accidentally flew onto Zell's hand. He quickly tried to wipe it off before it burned his skin. Hounds from Hell amazingly have very hot salvia.
"Hello Zell," the heads retorted sarcastically, except for Frank, who was currently trying to catch a fly that had landed on his nose.
"So," asked Dio, "What brings you out in the middle of nowhere? Who'd ya piss off?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, from our experience, the only time we called on these community service gigs is because someone needs help… Since you're the only person around, I'm assuming that person would be you."
"I don't need any help… I just wanted a hot dog. My friends are playing a little joke on me, they'll be back any minute."
"Surreeee," screeched Hephaistos. "And Frank is a rocket scientist. See, we've done this enough to know that you really do need us... you just might not know it yet."
"Well unless you have a bottle of sunscreen somewhere on you, there isn't much you can do for me."
"Really?" asked Dio. "Okay then - why did your friends leave you out here?"
"Look they really didn't leave me. It is just a joke… a very bad one."
"You act like they do this often to you."
"No, this is the first time I've ever been stranded in the desert with a three-headed dog."
"All right," replied Heph rolling his eyes. "I don't mean it that way… seems to me that your friends must not take you seriously."
"They do… sometimes." The latter word was garbled, barely audible.
"Sometimes!" snapped the first head. "We heard that."
"Forgot about dogs and their supersonic hearing… But yeah, sometimes they do take me seriously."
"…And the other times?"
"I guess they just see me as Zell: fun-loving, foolhardy, move-before-you-think kind-of-guy."
"How would you like them to see you?"
"I dunno… maybe just take me a little more seriously. I mean everyone looks up to Squall; he's the smart one. Irvine, well they think of him as the serious one… you might not know it from outward appearance, but once we all got to know him, he takes both his work and life to heart. Seifer, he's the passionate one… just ask Quistis. But me… I'm just Zell. The one that always does the favors, the one you can always walk on."
"Maybe they treat you like that because you let them. I bet if you asked the others they wouldn't see you like you just described… I bet they view you as the one they can always count on. And I just bet the others would like to be thought of in that way."
"Yes," continued Dio. "I bet the reason they play so many jokes on you… is because deep down inside they want to be more like you. You have grown up, but still managed to keep part of your childhood within you. Can the others truly say that?"
"No," Zell answered, "I mean the girls maybe… but the guys no… and the girls don't usually do the pranks."
"Right. So maybe they do take you seriously, you just don't know it. Let them know how you feel."
"Thanks," he answered sincerely.
"Wait," interrupted the group moderator, "Zell, if I may call you Zell, I understand that you underwent a traumatic experience. I have yet to recognize the relevance to our little group here."
"Yes, yes, I'm getting to that... I just wanted you guys to know the full background. So back to my story...
"Amazingly enough, the three-headed dog and I were getting along well, save for Frank, who didn't appreciate my views on the 'Plus' rule of Triple Triad. Anyway, if everyone had been listening to my story, they would have noticed I'd only managed to use two wishes. So, when I finally saw the Ragnarok returning, I had overlooked that small fact…."
"Dio, Heph, Frank… I had a great time. I want you to know that you guys gave me a lot to think about. Maybe I'll just focus on who I am and not how people see me."
"You seem pretty special to me kid," Dio replied. "And remember, I don't like everyone, especially you humans. I mean, your species doesn't even drink out of the toilet. You don't know the culinary delight that you're missing."
"Um... yeah… sad to miss that. But, same to you buddy, you're pretty special too. I wish you could be with me all the time."
Yes, the words were said, Zell was no longer sittin' at the table, the dealing was already done and it was time for counting his money. He knew when to walk away and knew when to run…
Sorry about that, back to what I was saying… Zell blatantly stated the phrase, "I wish." This only translated into one thing: trouble.
From over the horizon, the genie reappeared. "As you wish." He waved his nearly translucent hand in one grand motion.
"What the?" Zell cried.
"From now on the two… well, er… I guess four of you will always remain together. Your third and final wish is granted. I bid thee farewell."
"So," Zell spoke to the support group. "That's why I am here today."
"Yes, I can understand the unease of your situation… But what about this fear you described? And where is this supposed three-headed-hot-dog from Hell?"
"Watch this," Zell explained. Softly he whispered, "The 'Plus' rule in Triple Triad is the dumbest thing ever.. And the 'Open' rule is for sissies."
Like a roar of thunder and a streak of lightning, the door ruptured into a thousand splinters of wood. Everyone in the room scrambled for dear life as the large creature broke into the room.
"Fool!" screamed Frank as drool flew in every direction. The yells and screams continued as the monster bared his teeth.
"See," said Zell angrily pointing to Cerberus. "This is what I must live with… Every night I dream of being attacked by an overacting hot dog… a three headed hot dog with a very ugly bun! The nightmares never stop, and when I wake up, Mr. bed-hog over here as taken all the covers. Ever try sleeping with a large GF in a twin bed? Could I have Carbuncle… noooo… I get Mr. Take-up-all-the-space-and-circle-three-times-before-I-lay-down!"
"So um," the moderator said trembling in the corner. "Zell, you seemed to think that he helped you out in the desert… is this not still true?"
"Well yeah… I'm also being taking much more seriously with Cerberus constantly at my side. So I guess that is a good thing."
"Yes, why don't you try to focus on the positive… Maybe you and the overgrown hot dog can come to a mutual understanding about your…. Well, for lack of a better word, relationship."
Two months later…
"Hey commander, why are we getting more Cactuar thorns again?" Seifer wiped the perspiration off his forehead.
"Because, somebody mistook them for toothpicks and used them as spears for cheese squares."
They all looked at Irvine.
"Well, it's not my fault. Selphie signed me up for festival duties… and they looked pretty. Just gave the Hors d'Oeuvres that little extra 'wow factor' they needed."
"Pretty? Irvine Kinneas, party planner of the future," Squall sniped.
"Hey, I wouldn't talk Commander. At least my girlfriend is legally allowed within fifty feet of a gas stove."
Squall tossed his gunblade down, ready to defend her honor… Okay, she technically wasn't allowed near a stove, but that was so beside the point at the moment.
"Boys… settle down now," ordered Zell. He stood with a bag full of thorns, Cerberus at his side. "Don't make me separate you three."
"Whatever," Squall said picking up his gunblade walking away.
"Oh the high and mighty Zell speaks along with his cocktail weenie… and I'm not talking about Cerberus."
The martial artist surprising kept his cool.
Seifer started walking and immediately feel to the ground. Face first he landed with a mighty thud. As Squall and Irvine turned to look, they immediately started laughing.
Seifer brushed the grains off his face and tried to spit the sand out of his mouth. Zell and Cerberus shared a triumphant smile. Yes, they did make a good team… They immediately high-fived each other. Zell with his hand and Cerberus the end of his tail.
Together they triumphantly walked to back to the Ragnarok.