The Gaara, The Broccoli and The Laughing Gas

One-Shot . Disclaimer. Spike Milligan is my hero, not myself. That excellent poem Lee recited is 'Ipple Tree', by Spike Milligan, and it is quite excellent. YOU SHOULD CHECK IT OUT! I don't own Naruto.

Description: Sitting in the aftermath of an unfortunate house party, Lee tries to console Gaara with a tearful poem and a bouquet of helium balloons. One shot. AU. Just fer the lols.


The aftermath of the party was strewn around the front room. Empty bottles clinked together like drunken friends, the toilet was clogged with Kellogs cornflakes and the largest sofa – and the nicest one – was completely bedecked in toilet roll. There was a patch on the carpet by the lamp, but it was undecided whether it was piss, bleach or bath water. A lampshade was still swinging, a golden gob of light flashing to and fro, to and fro. Two people sat on the carpet in the ruined front room. One was stone cold sober, the other was slowly coming back from the land of the drunk to the furious gleam in the agate eyes, and quite frankly wishing he wasn't.

"Lee."

It was one word, but it was literally terrifying. The man squeaked.

"My house."

Two words, but they were even scarier than the first. The man swivelled his head like the lovechild of an owl, a periscope and Might Guy. He took in the swinging lampshade, the recently decorated sofa, the indeterminable puddle and letterbox in the wall that looked like it was leaking a combination of porridge and fairy liquid. He swallowed.

"You said there would be five of us, Lee."

The menace was unavoidable. "The, uh… event on Facebook wasn't private?" he squealed, avoiding the redhead's burning gaze. He pretended to be riveted by a stack of paperbacks spread over the floor, each with a new, impressive moustache in permanent marker.

"Lee."

The athlete nearly burst into tears.

"There were at least five hundred here." The tone would make even Hell freeze over.

Tears formed in the corner of wide, penny-shaped eyes. "I'll wead you ah poem?" Lee suggested toothily, pushing his bottom lip out in a pout that nine times out of ten calmed down his friend.

"Fine."

Suppressing a shiver, Lee began.
"I'm going to pl-plint an apple tree," he started with a sniffle, "Not plint, I-I mean to plant. You cannot plint an apple tree… You cin't, I m-mean you caaaan't…" He tailed off into a wail. Teal eyes glared at him unsympathetically. "I mean you plant, you do not plint… And I mean CAN'T when I say cin't… If you," he sniffed, "insist and PLINT a tree… Ipples will grow, not apples, you see?" He finished with a wobbly grin.

Gaara stared back murderously at him, and Lee wilted like a little out-of-season flower.

"Lee."

A little moan issued from the hunched man.

"My house is trashed."

"I'm SOWWY!" He blubbed, curling himself over his knees and sobbing into the fabric off his green spandex, which soaked the water up like a sponge. When his face emerged, his eyes were red and watery.

"Not gonna cut it."

Lee looked like he was going to bawl into his knees again, but he scrambled up at the last minute and dashed out of the room. He was back the next instance, a lumpy bin bag in his hands. He dropped it in front of Gaara and beamed promptly at him.

"The hell is this."

The face fell briefly, before it lit up again. "A present!" he squealed in delight.

Expression mutinous, the redhead tore off the plastic despite Lee's cries of 'don't hurt it, don't hurt it!'

Half a dozen helium balloons rose to bob on the ceiling. Dead green eyes turned to drill into the athlete's face. His lip wobbled.

Before the redhead's lips could part, the gangly man leapt into the air and seized a balloon. Grinning reassuringly at his smaller companion, he pulled a steak knife from where it was embedded in sofa cushion, blew off a polystyrene peanut that came with it, and sliced off the end of the balloon. He sucked the end to his mouth and took a deep breath.

"See Gaara!" he squeaked, his voice a few octaves higher. "It's the BEST!"

Face irritated, the redhead snatched the balloon from the squeaky man and inhaled angrily. He passed the balloon back to Lee and continued to glare. There was silence for a full minute.

And then, Gaara giggled.

It started out small, a tiny little warble. Lee thought he'd misheard. But then it came again, a tiny piping chuckle. Gaara's lips parted, and the laughter broke through, unmuffled.

"Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh… heh… heh heh… heh."

Without any warning, Gaara's face flattened. His glare was back.

Tentatively, Lee extended the balloon again. Gaara took it, and inhaled.

"Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh… heh… hurr hurr…"

The laughter petered off again. This time, the redhead stuck out a hand. Looking fearful, Lee sliced of the bottom of the next balloon and handed it to him. He was returned it, completely drained.

"HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH ! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!" The grin, terrifying in its hugeness, stretched Gaara's face. His eyes were like saucers. "Hee hee… YOU'RE BROCCOLI!" Gaara snorted, and bent double over his ribs, beside himself with glee. "HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH! BROCCOLI! HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!"

"What?" Lee asked, thick brows furrowed over his eyes in vexation.

"D'you not geddit? Broccoli! Rock… Lee. Rockily. Broccoli! PAHAHAHAHA!" The tiny man was nearly incoherent with laughter. He dropped his hands to clutch between his legs. "Ooo! I need to pee! I need to pee! I need to pee, broccoli!" He dissolved into maniacal giggles again. "Broccoli! Where is Pen-Pen? And WEDGIE?! ARGHHHH HAH HAH! I miss Wedgie!" The redhead was screaming with laughter now, clutching his ribs and crying in mirth. "Wedgie! Wedgie Hyuuga!" The skin was stretched against his cheekbones as his torso rolled in waves and waves of silent laughter. It slowly tailed off, punctuated by the occasional shrill giggle and a hiccup.

Rock Lee looked like he'd just done a number two. Rigidly, he looked at the steak knife in his hands and wondered if he'd need it for self-defence.

Gaara's chest gave one last shudder, and then he sat up, the picture of composure but for the eyeliner trails down his face. He stuck out a hand again.

"Erm, Gaara, I don't think-"

The glare was back full throttle. With a small pitiful whimper, Lee handing him a third balloon. It was quickly drained, the empty plastic drifting to the floor like a shed feather.

Lee screamed and ran as the excitable, giggling redhead launched after him; arms wide and ready for a hug.

The front door clicked open. "Lee? Gaara? I scared the rest of them off."

Neji Hyuuga was met with silence.

"Gaara?"

He walked further into the living room, skirting around an abandoned two-man camel suit and reach up to still the swinging lampshade.

"Lee?!"

A ticking grandfather clock, half obscured by silly string, was the only sound he could hear.

Gaara's killed him. It was the only possible explanation.

"NEJI!" The pitiful scream came from the gangly man racing towards him from the staircase. He was being pursued by the carrot-top man, a glint in his eye that made Neji very, very scared.

"WEDGIE!"

"Holy shit, run!" He turned on his heel, grabbing the semi-sober Lee and dragging him with him. But he barely made it five steps before something hit his back with the force and mass of a small torpedo. Neji hit the floor, stunned.

"Wedgie."

Neji peered at him. "Gaara? What's up with your voice?"

Wide green eyes blinked back. The Hyuuga looked over at Lee, who shrugged helplessly at him.

"I don't want broccoli no more, no, no. Wedgie?"

"No thanks." Neji pulled himself up and extracted himself the smaller man's grip, holding him at arm's length. "Lee, what did you do?"

"I gave him helium…" was the guilty confession.

Neji watched Gaara's eyes dull back to normality, and when he spoke, it was the same dry growl. "Neji? The fuck?! Get off!"

"Oh thank Christ," Neji hissed, releasing the redhead and stalking to the front door. "Lee, you clean up!"

"WHAT!"

"Yes, Lee."

It was funny how the short redhead could tower so much.

"Yes, Gaara," Lee mumbled meekly, and sloped off to get the hoover


I don't really have much else to say, except that was a complete imagination brainfart. So, BYE!

Ipple Tree

by Spike Milligan

I'm going to plint an apple tree
Not plint, I mean to plant,
You cannot plint an apple tree
You cint, i mean you can't.
I mean you plant
You do not plint
And I mean can't
When I say cint
If you insist and plint a tree
Ipples will grow, not apples you see?

Probably one of my favourite poems of all time. I love you Spike!