Fork in a toast: Howdy denzins of the internet! Fork in a TOASTER! Gosh, how long have we known each other and YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW MY NAME Remnants-Of-Fire?

Remnants-Of-Fire: Well exxcuussee me princess! I can't help it that your laptop is freakishly small! Oh, and hi weird bored people who chose to read this… *cough* ….ya…

Fork in a toastER: Well, now I feel awkward…..

Remnants-Of-Fire: Let's just start; the poor people are probably traumatized.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach…except for the bleach for my dirty clothes…but ya know…that doesn't really count…

Captain Hitsugaya sat in his too big office chair in, shocker, his office. He was currently cursing the fact that his legs were so short, how in the soul society was he supposed to get any respect with his stubby little legs and the build of a stunted pre-teen. While he was at it, he decided to procrastinate some more and complain to himself mentally about his overly-spiky white hair. No matter what he did with it, it resembled an elderly hedgehog dipped in whitewash.

He sighed, kicked his feet back and forth in the air a few times, and then looked down at his reports again. So much paperwork…he could literally feel whatever small amount of patience he had evaporate just by looking at the dreaded things. He reached down to shuffle one of the obnoxiously large stacks out of the way.

Then it happened.

He stared for a moment, disbelief scrawled all over his small features, a wave of horror descending on him as he tried to convince himself that it COULD NOT be happening.

He blinked. He tried pinching himself with his other hand.

But it didn't change anything.

Captain Hitsugaya of Squad Ten had gotten a paper cut.

"CURSE YOU WRITERS! CURSE YOU TO HECK!"

His finger started spurting blood, no wait. The word spurting didn't really describe the logic defying spectacle that was his paper cut finger. It had a pressure to the geyser of blood blasting out of the cut that would have made fire fighters green with envy. Physics disagreed with the amount of blood that the small container that was Hitsugaya could even hold. Seriously, somewhere somehow, a scientist choked and had to be given the Heimlich by one of his scientist buddies. When they asked what had happened, all he could do was stare dramatically off into the distance, and shake his head. That's how much blood Hitsugaya was geysering.

-10 minutes later-

Matsumoto strolled in, making a new definition of the word scantily clad. She paused, her brain taking a few moments to catch up with her current situation. There was something different about the walls….something, like, not wall-ish….then it clicked. As much as anything could click for poor Matsumoto, you see, after all those years of painting her nails, the fumes had finally gotten to her.

The walls were dark-pink. No wait, not dark-dark-pink, it was another word…ehhh…liiikkkeee…red? Yay! RED! She clapped her hands in glee. Then tapped a finger on her chin as she strode forward to ask her Captain why he would choose such an ick color for his office. If he was going to choose a color, why couldn't it be something groovy-ish, like, like, orange with koalas on it or something?

Matsumoto liked koalas.

She took a moment to pause, and picture her marsupial friends as she walked forward….. and promptly tripped over something lying on the floor. By the time her beleaguered brain realized she was falling, and that she should brace herself, she had been lying on the floor for a good half a minute. She blinked, like a computer rebooting, and noticed what it was she had tripped over.

It was a Hobbit!

Wait…no…it was just a dead guy. She sighed as she flipped over the dead guy, and was like; totally shocked to find out it was the Captain. By shocked though, she meant that she wasn't too surprised. She hazily remembered through the fog of nail-polish remover, that the Captain had always been going on about how the paperwork would be the death of him. She sat down and checked her nails for the fifteenth time that day to make sure her pretty-in-pink nail polish hadn't chipped.

And that kids, is why Ichigo and his Scooby Doo gang never seem to do any homework. It's the paper cuts I tell ya!

Review, don't review, make a ham sandwich….but make sure to avoid those nasty paper cuts!

(By the way, in case you haven't guessed it, this was meant to NOT be taken seriously. At all. I mean come on, Koala's? Pfft.)