Poking his head above his cubicle wall, Andrew doesn't see anyone around. A twisted grin threatens to split his face in half as he ducks back down to his computer and slips into his alter ego...Phelan.
Hmm, I wonder what torture...oops, uhm, fun I can have with the Gundam guys.
Phelan disappears into his own little world, calling up the ever-present featureless white room, as well as the victims...er, volunteers (gotta get that fixed) for his next fic. As he arrives, he is somewhat surprised to find the FWR is in fact, pitch black.
Phelan: Hmm, gotta remember to pay the bills...OOF!!!
The author finds himself under attack from several directions at once. In desparation, he tries to bring up the lights, but it remains dark. Before he can vanish, something hard and heavy connects with the back of his head, and he sinks to the floor with a moan.
****************
'OWW!!' is the first thing that Phelan thinks about when he wakes up. After piecing together the events surrounding his beating, he remembers how he was captured. 'I'm captured?' Trying to blink away the images dancing across his eyes, he finds them covered by a blindfold. 'Guess that answers *that* question. But who did this...and why?'
Voice 1: It looks like he's waking up.
'That sounds familliar, somehow. Where have I heard him before?'
Voice 2: Well, who would've guessed we could grab an author so easily?
Voice 3: Remember, you couldn't get him without my help.
Voice 1: We understand. But I do believe that we can handle it from here. Would you care to stay and watch?
Voice 3: Nah, someone's gotta write this thing.
'Wait, that third person seems to be some sort of powerful being in *MY* fic, and seems to know how to control my author's powers. And that voice is female. I've never actually met another author before. With my luck, it'll be some sadistic authoress who wants revenge for all the pranks I pulled on Zechs and Treize.'
Phelan begins to squirm as he truly understands the predicament he's in. Though unable to break the bonds holding himself in place, he learns that he is sitting in a chair with his hands tied roughly behind his back. He hears footsteps approach, and turns his head back and forth to tell where this person is coming from. They stop before he can localize it, and the blindfold is torn away from his eyes. Phelan snaps them shut and winces; he's facing a very bright beam of light, and the sudden change is quite disorienting and uncomfortable. Lowering his head, he tries to hood his eyes from the blinding whiteness, but a hand on his shoulder begins to squeeze a pressure point the moment before his eyes can become cloaked in shadow.
Voice 1: Open your eyes and keep your head facing forwards.
A second squeeze, much stronger, backs up the voice's command. Frustrated, Phelan stares into the light, pupils contracting to a pinpoint.
Voice 2: Much better. I think you can guess why you're here?
Phelan: I haven't paid this year's taxes yet? Or was it because I removed the tag on my mattress? Oh, I remember, this is because I publicly humiliated Zechs and Treize, managed to get my very own gundam, and I kissed Lucrez...
The moment he utters that name, stabbing pain shoots through Phelan's side, a rippling agony that leaves the captured author gasping for breath and twitching slightly from the effects.
Phelan: Oh, *groan* hi Zechs...
A second wave of pain tears through Phelan as his tormentor applies a second jolt of energy to his chest.
Phelan: I guess Treize must also be here, calmly sipping a glass of champagne and enjoying every moment of this.
Voice 1: Yes, I am here, but considering what you did to Zechs and myself, I will be participating in this matter.
Phelan: What, you didn't approve of the old 'tar and feather' routine? I thought Duo pulled that off rather well, don't you?
Despite the imminent torture that he faced, Phelan managed to crack a grin and continue with the conversation. As he thought back to the debacle that his three (unwilling) minions had caused, he began to chuckle. That drew a third assault, running up and down his right flank. All of his muscles clenched at the electrical burst that certainly seemed stronger than before. When it stopped, Phelan fell back into his chair, shivering and sweat-soaked.
In a voice that was laced with boredom and annoyance, Phelan asked the two men, "Alright, what do you want? What do I have to do to make it up to you?"
Treize: Though we have yet to finish our list, we have decided that when we are done with you, we will leave you tied up at the doorstep of our fanclub, and let our followers take a shot at you.
For the first time since coming to, a look of horror washes over the captive, and he leaps to his feet to voice his opinion. At least, he tries before crashing onto his face, his chair now on his back because of his restraints. Cursing fluently in enough languages to cause several international upsets, Phelan rolls to his side to face the two former OZ soldiers. He stops, executes a perfect double take, and immediately starts laughing in a manner that would cause even Zero System Quatre(tm) to slowly back away.
Zechs(red with emabarassment): Well, now you know *why we're torturing you.
Treize(probably blushing as well): You certainly earned it. And I know the fangirls won't hold back at all.
The reason for the insane laughter emanating from the deranged author is now clear to everyone. (Note: To all hentai's, I warn you now. SHUT UP, OR DIE!) Zechs is wearing what would normally be a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants in place of his usual OZ uniform. The pants simply aren't baggy enough to conceal the ridiculous bulge from anyone's eyes. Apparently Zechs has yet to find a way to remove his helmet that Wufei had filled with Gundanium-strength Superglue. (Okay, *now* you baka hentai's can laugh it up) While that is quite a sight, (and I'd hate to see the 74,186,932,987,542 deathglares I'm recieving right now) it doesn't hold a candle to Treize, whose every square inch of exposed skin is the brightest shade of green imaginable. After seeing the results of Quatre's part in the great prank-pulling, Phelan is shaken to the core with his laughter, and soon falls unconscious from lack of air.
********** Much Later ************
Phelan: Ugh, what hit me? I feel like I've been flayed alive, cut into pieces, thrown into a cement mixer, and finally stepped on by a leo.
Zechs: Good guess, but you got the part about the leo wrong. It was a steamroller.
Phelan: Oh, okay. *ZZZZZZZZZZ*
Splashing a bucket of ice-cold water into Phelan's face, Zechs forces the still-living author awake.
Phelan: Aw, c'mon. You still aren't done? I haven't had a moment of sleep since you two caught me.
Treize: That is part of the torture.
Phelan: Yeah, but it's just a minor annoyance. I'm a fanfic author, remember? We don't sleep much at all anyway.
Zechs: He's got a point.
Treize: Well, we still need him awake for now.
With that, a *massive* collection of big screen TV's begins to rise out of the floor, the sound of hydraulics trying to lift hundreds of tons of equippment drowning out any further conversation. Pulling a strange device from hammerspace, Zechs advances in a menacing manner towards the hapless victim.
Phelan: What's that?
Zechs: Oh, this? It's just a tool to keep your eyes open, it really won't hurt.
Phelan: Oh, sh#t. You're going to force me to watch Sailor Moon or Barney, aren't you? You *are* serious. I am impressed.
Treize: You are mistaken. We are going to force you to watch both, in addition to the OJ Simpson trial and every one of Bill Clinton's State of the Union addresses. We are even going to show the whole trial against Bill Clinton, *and* the ongoing antitrust case against Microsoft and Bill Gates. I had no idea he was cybernetically enhanced, but it has let him live until today, fighting the courts about his company and its competition.
Phelan merely faints from shock.
******** 5 Months Later ************
Upon emerging from his coma, Phelan is subjected to the horror of watching all the footage. As he is led from the TV room, begins to cry, his soul crushed and his ego flattened. Dragged into a small cell, Zechs and Treize lower him to the single cot and leave the room.
Treize: I had no idea what that could do to a man!!
Zechs: I think we've gone too far. I'll release him once he wakes up.
Treize: Do that, my friend. I shall burn the tapes, then send the ashes into the sun. No-one should ever be subjected to such horrors.
********* The Next Day *************
Phelan is set loose into his Featureless White Room, where he staggers about as if in a drunken haze while Zechs and Treize return to the world of Gundam Wing. Konoko, Phelan's muse, materializes before his face.
Konoko: Gods, you look awful. What did they *do* to you?
Hearing her voice triggers a memory deep within the author's mind. Straightening his back, working the knots out, Phelan turns his gaze towards her.
Phelan: You should know. You were the one who let them capture me. I *do* know what your voice sounds like.
Konoko smirks, clearly amused.
Konoko: So you're fine, then. I'm not surprized a half-Mazoku like yourself could take that without batting an eye.
Phelan: But of course. I take it the readers bought it?
Konoko: Yep, they're sure you'll never write another fic to torture anyone in Gundam Wing.
Phelan(rubbing his hands together): Excellent. But I'd like to know how you found out about my weakness.
Konoko: Well, I... Hey, is that camera still on?
Phelan(whips his head around to follow her gaze): Oh, crap. That one happens to be the camera I use for live broadcasts to my many underlings...er, my friends.
Phelan points a finger in your direction, and with a rapidly expanding ball of blood-red energy, the camera is erased, giving you nothing but static.
************************
Well, it started out as a sort of apology to any and all fans of Zechs and Treize who were offended by my first fic, A Prank for a Gift (Shameless plug here), but something happened, and my team of scientists (image of the gundam scientists locked in a laboratory) are trying to figure out what caused this. (the image of the five scientists shows Professor G. grabbing a pile of notes and rushing over to an intercom)
Prof. G: We've found it!!
Phelan: Report. (always wanted to do that in a cool military-dictator voice)
Prof. G: We believe it was an SEP field.
Phelan: What?
Prof. G: A (S)omebody (E)lse's (P)roblem field. It's pretty self explanatory, kind of like a plot hole.
Phelan: Ah, gotcha. Well then, you may leave.
(The door to the lab opens and the five scientists shuffle out)
Phelan: Okay, so the whole reason that this fic is no longer an apology is Somebody Else's Problem, and I don't have to explain it to you. (Thanks, Douglas Adams!!)
If there are any readers out there who aren't out for my blood, REVIEW PLEASE!!!
Hmm, I wonder what torture...oops, uhm, fun I can have with the Gundam guys.
Phelan disappears into his own little world, calling up the ever-present featureless white room, as well as the victims...er, volunteers (gotta get that fixed) for his next fic. As he arrives, he is somewhat surprised to find the FWR is in fact, pitch black.
Phelan: Hmm, gotta remember to pay the bills...OOF!!!
The author finds himself under attack from several directions at once. In desparation, he tries to bring up the lights, but it remains dark. Before he can vanish, something hard and heavy connects with the back of his head, and he sinks to the floor with a moan.
****************
'OWW!!' is the first thing that Phelan thinks about when he wakes up. After piecing together the events surrounding his beating, he remembers how he was captured. 'I'm captured?' Trying to blink away the images dancing across his eyes, he finds them covered by a blindfold. 'Guess that answers *that* question. But who did this...and why?'
Voice 1: It looks like he's waking up.
'That sounds familliar, somehow. Where have I heard him before?'
Voice 2: Well, who would've guessed we could grab an author so easily?
Voice 3: Remember, you couldn't get him without my help.
Voice 1: We understand. But I do believe that we can handle it from here. Would you care to stay and watch?
Voice 3: Nah, someone's gotta write this thing.
'Wait, that third person seems to be some sort of powerful being in *MY* fic, and seems to know how to control my author's powers. And that voice is female. I've never actually met another author before. With my luck, it'll be some sadistic authoress who wants revenge for all the pranks I pulled on Zechs and Treize.'
Phelan begins to squirm as he truly understands the predicament he's in. Though unable to break the bonds holding himself in place, he learns that he is sitting in a chair with his hands tied roughly behind his back. He hears footsteps approach, and turns his head back and forth to tell where this person is coming from. They stop before he can localize it, and the blindfold is torn away from his eyes. Phelan snaps them shut and winces; he's facing a very bright beam of light, and the sudden change is quite disorienting and uncomfortable. Lowering his head, he tries to hood his eyes from the blinding whiteness, but a hand on his shoulder begins to squeeze a pressure point the moment before his eyes can become cloaked in shadow.
Voice 1: Open your eyes and keep your head facing forwards.
A second squeeze, much stronger, backs up the voice's command. Frustrated, Phelan stares into the light, pupils contracting to a pinpoint.
Voice 2: Much better. I think you can guess why you're here?
Phelan: I haven't paid this year's taxes yet? Or was it because I removed the tag on my mattress? Oh, I remember, this is because I publicly humiliated Zechs and Treize, managed to get my very own gundam, and I kissed Lucrez...
The moment he utters that name, stabbing pain shoots through Phelan's side, a rippling agony that leaves the captured author gasping for breath and twitching slightly from the effects.
Phelan: Oh, *groan* hi Zechs...
A second wave of pain tears through Phelan as his tormentor applies a second jolt of energy to his chest.
Phelan: I guess Treize must also be here, calmly sipping a glass of champagne and enjoying every moment of this.
Voice 1: Yes, I am here, but considering what you did to Zechs and myself, I will be participating in this matter.
Phelan: What, you didn't approve of the old 'tar and feather' routine? I thought Duo pulled that off rather well, don't you?
Despite the imminent torture that he faced, Phelan managed to crack a grin and continue with the conversation. As he thought back to the debacle that his three (unwilling) minions had caused, he began to chuckle. That drew a third assault, running up and down his right flank. All of his muscles clenched at the electrical burst that certainly seemed stronger than before. When it stopped, Phelan fell back into his chair, shivering and sweat-soaked.
In a voice that was laced with boredom and annoyance, Phelan asked the two men, "Alright, what do you want? What do I have to do to make it up to you?"
Treize: Though we have yet to finish our list, we have decided that when we are done with you, we will leave you tied up at the doorstep of our fanclub, and let our followers take a shot at you.
For the first time since coming to, a look of horror washes over the captive, and he leaps to his feet to voice his opinion. At least, he tries before crashing onto his face, his chair now on his back because of his restraints. Cursing fluently in enough languages to cause several international upsets, Phelan rolls to his side to face the two former OZ soldiers. He stops, executes a perfect double take, and immediately starts laughing in a manner that would cause even Zero System Quatre(tm) to slowly back away.
Zechs(red with emabarassment): Well, now you know *why we're torturing you.
Treize(probably blushing as well): You certainly earned it. And I know the fangirls won't hold back at all.
The reason for the insane laughter emanating from the deranged author is now clear to everyone. (Note: To all hentai's, I warn you now. SHUT UP, OR DIE!) Zechs is wearing what would normally be a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants in place of his usual OZ uniform. The pants simply aren't baggy enough to conceal the ridiculous bulge from anyone's eyes. Apparently Zechs has yet to find a way to remove his helmet that Wufei had filled with Gundanium-strength Superglue. (Okay, *now* you baka hentai's can laugh it up) While that is quite a sight, (and I'd hate to see the 74,186,932,987,542 deathglares I'm recieving right now) it doesn't hold a candle to Treize, whose every square inch of exposed skin is the brightest shade of green imaginable. After seeing the results of Quatre's part in the great prank-pulling, Phelan is shaken to the core with his laughter, and soon falls unconscious from lack of air.
********** Much Later ************
Phelan: Ugh, what hit me? I feel like I've been flayed alive, cut into pieces, thrown into a cement mixer, and finally stepped on by a leo.
Zechs: Good guess, but you got the part about the leo wrong. It was a steamroller.
Phelan: Oh, okay. *ZZZZZZZZZZ*
Splashing a bucket of ice-cold water into Phelan's face, Zechs forces the still-living author awake.
Phelan: Aw, c'mon. You still aren't done? I haven't had a moment of sleep since you two caught me.
Treize: That is part of the torture.
Phelan: Yeah, but it's just a minor annoyance. I'm a fanfic author, remember? We don't sleep much at all anyway.
Zechs: He's got a point.
Treize: Well, we still need him awake for now.
With that, a *massive* collection of big screen TV's begins to rise out of the floor, the sound of hydraulics trying to lift hundreds of tons of equippment drowning out any further conversation. Pulling a strange device from hammerspace, Zechs advances in a menacing manner towards the hapless victim.
Phelan: What's that?
Zechs: Oh, this? It's just a tool to keep your eyes open, it really won't hurt.
Phelan: Oh, sh#t. You're going to force me to watch Sailor Moon or Barney, aren't you? You *are* serious. I am impressed.
Treize: You are mistaken. We are going to force you to watch both, in addition to the OJ Simpson trial and every one of Bill Clinton's State of the Union addresses. We are even going to show the whole trial against Bill Clinton, *and* the ongoing antitrust case against Microsoft and Bill Gates. I had no idea he was cybernetically enhanced, but it has let him live until today, fighting the courts about his company and its competition.
Phelan merely faints from shock.
******** 5 Months Later ************
Upon emerging from his coma, Phelan is subjected to the horror of watching all the footage. As he is led from the TV room, begins to cry, his soul crushed and his ego flattened. Dragged into a small cell, Zechs and Treize lower him to the single cot and leave the room.
Treize: I had no idea what that could do to a man!!
Zechs: I think we've gone too far. I'll release him once he wakes up.
Treize: Do that, my friend. I shall burn the tapes, then send the ashes into the sun. No-one should ever be subjected to such horrors.
********* The Next Day *************
Phelan is set loose into his Featureless White Room, where he staggers about as if in a drunken haze while Zechs and Treize return to the world of Gundam Wing. Konoko, Phelan's muse, materializes before his face.
Konoko: Gods, you look awful. What did they *do* to you?
Hearing her voice triggers a memory deep within the author's mind. Straightening his back, working the knots out, Phelan turns his gaze towards her.
Phelan: You should know. You were the one who let them capture me. I *do* know what your voice sounds like.
Konoko smirks, clearly amused.
Konoko: So you're fine, then. I'm not surprized a half-Mazoku like yourself could take that without batting an eye.
Phelan: But of course. I take it the readers bought it?
Konoko: Yep, they're sure you'll never write another fic to torture anyone in Gundam Wing.
Phelan(rubbing his hands together): Excellent. But I'd like to know how you found out about my weakness.
Konoko: Well, I... Hey, is that camera still on?
Phelan(whips his head around to follow her gaze): Oh, crap. That one happens to be the camera I use for live broadcasts to my many underlings...er, my friends.
Phelan points a finger in your direction, and with a rapidly expanding ball of blood-red energy, the camera is erased, giving you nothing but static.
************************
Well, it started out as a sort of apology to any and all fans of Zechs and Treize who were offended by my first fic, A Prank for a Gift (Shameless plug here), but something happened, and my team of scientists (image of the gundam scientists locked in a laboratory) are trying to figure out what caused this. (the image of the five scientists shows Professor G. grabbing a pile of notes and rushing over to an intercom)
Prof. G: We've found it!!
Phelan: Report. (always wanted to do that in a cool military-dictator voice)
Prof. G: We believe it was an SEP field.
Phelan: What?
Prof. G: A (S)omebody (E)lse's (P)roblem field. It's pretty self explanatory, kind of like a plot hole.
Phelan: Ah, gotcha. Well then, you may leave.
(The door to the lab opens and the five scientists shuffle out)
Phelan: Okay, so the whole reason that this fic is no longer an apology is Somebody Else's Problem, and I don't have to explain it to you. (Thanks, Douglas Adams!!)
If there are any readers out there who aren't out for my blood, REVIEW PLEASE!!!