Disclaimer: I do not own FLCL. These characters were borrowed for this non-profit fan fiction story. Don't sue and we'll all be keen beans.
Parental Advisory: This is another horrible cliché story where Naota goes ape shit and murders everyone. I know it's been done to death, but I'm all about taking things to the next level. M rating is for hardcore, old school graphic novel action and loads of extreme ultra violence.
FLCL: G is for Gore. C is for Comic Gore.
It all started as a normal day in the wondrous land of space pirates and robots. Mabase, Japan, to be precise. The sun shined brightly on the unsuspecting civilians of this far east urban area as the countdown to their demise rolled nearer.
At 6:30 AM, the blaring sound of Naota's alarm clock woke him from his slumber. It interrupted a nice dream he was having of beating Mamimi to a pulp with Atomsk's Gibson EB Zero. The young man, now 23 years of age, grabbed the old Rickenbacker and slammed it over the alarm quite vehemently. He laughed as he recalled how he made her unrecognizable with this brutal onslaught in his twisted subconscious. 'Oh well, I don't need to dream, for I shall make it reality.'
The guy rushed to his closet to gear up. Black combat boots? Check. Full body Kevlar? Check. Kevlar helmet? Check. Night vision? Check. Gas Mask? Check. M249 SAW gun? Check. Black Mesa RPG? SPAS 12? Dual Desert Eagle .357s with laser sighting? Hand grenades? Shopping cart chock full of ammo? Check. Check. Check. You get the idea.
It was going to be a good day today, Naota reassured himself.
((((section divider))))
As he walked down the hall to the elevator of his condo unit, an elderly woman and her grandchild gave the fully armored and dangerous man a suspicious glance.
Naota did not like being judged. POP! POP! He unloaded two magnum bullets, one into each their heads, making them explode. He, the cart, as well as a good portion of the floor, was covered in their blood, skull fragments, and chunks of brain tissue.
Satisfied with his work here, he proceeded to the elevator and pushed the ground floor button.
((((section divider))))
Naota was on his way to his sweet ride, a silver 2012 Honda Civic V-TEC hatchback, turbo charged and loaded with nitrous boosters. The corner of his eye caught a familiar individual walking towards him, a Starbucks coffee in each hand.
'Father,' the young Nandaba thought with malevolence.
"Nao, is that you?"
Rather than answering, he picked up his RPG, laser guided to boot, and aimed it at his father's sternum.
Kamon, needless to say, ran the fuck out of there.
However, he wasn't fast enough. Naota's eagle eye locked on to a car within his old man's proximity and... SWOOSH! KABOOM! The vehicle was well as his father were charbroiled by the explosion.
"What the fuck?" Some careless by stander shouted.
Naota put the RPG away and traded it for the SAW gun. Before the man could gain any distance... P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P-POP! The young Nandaba uploaded a full 50 round chain into the man's gut, his entrails spilling out as a result.
"Fuggin' A," the young man scorned himself, "I wasted too much ammo on that plebeian!"
((((section divider))))
Three hours and ten thousand casualties later...
Naota was going buck wild with his SPAS 12. Mountains of corpses piled up, all mingled with pellets and leaking like an ultra rare steak.
"Who's the man now, bi-atches!" Naota was proud of the massacre he created. BOOM! GLOCK-GLOCK. BOOM! GLOCK-GLOCK.
The massacre continued well into the night.
((((section divider))))
Fifteen hours and two hundred thousand casualties later...
Sunrise had come at last. Naota was now hawking hand grenades at his victims, blowing off their limbs. The vibrations made by the pin drops and the explosions was music to his ears. DING. KABOOM! DING. KABOOM!
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"
As a sadist, their agonizing screams no doubt gave the young man a hard on.
"MI-6 Agent Naota Nandaba, drop your weapons now!" an unannounced, firm, feminine voice called out to him.
"JSSDF Agent Eri Ninamori, it's been quite some time!" he stated with a horrific grin.
Naota turned to the woman, who was clad in a red latex bra, red latex thong, and knee-high red latex boots. Strapped to her waist was an iron sheath containing a six-foot long Murasame.
"Surrender, Naota-kun!"
"I think not!" He dropped his shotgun and picked up his twin .357 magnums. "Duel or die, Eri-chan!"
She smiled mischievously as she unsheathed her Masamune, ready to dice the man into sushi.
POP! POP! Naota initialized the battle.
CHING! CHING! Eri, with super human speed, deflected the bullets with her blade.
"I expected no less from you!" Naota said with glee.
She followed up with an attempt to decapitate him. WOOSH! He managed to cartwheel to his right for evasion. In the middle of his cartwheel, he opened fire again. POP! POP! POP!
Eri abruptly dived to her left and evaded the projectiles with ease.
Naota, feeling like showing off, ran towards her before executing a high jump, followed by a mid air cartwheel. While spinning off ground, he opened fire again. POP! POP! POP!
Ninamori dodged the slugs by executing a high jump. While she was in the young man's blindspot, she did a mid air summersalt.
He looked around when he landed, but by the time his eyes caught site of her, the blade of the woman's Murasame ripped through his throat.
Naota fell to his knees, cradling his mortal injury. As he choked on his own blood, he spoke one last inaudible phrase. Eri read, it was all for you, Eri-chan, before he collapsed, lifeless.
She knelt by his corpse and planted a soft kiss on his blood drenched lips. After indulging in this display of passion for nearly a minute, she parted, whispering, "Naota, may we be reunited in hell." She grabbed her Masamune's blade and used it to puncture her heart, performing Seppuku much like the samurai. Her lifeless chest landed on his own and together their corpses laid for hours until the JSSDF clean up crew arrived and cremated their remains.
The End.