"Oh dear god, I never knew someone could be born with a mask on!"

"Holy shit that kid just bit off his own umbilical cord! What the hell?"


"Hmm, I see that you implied the first two sentences you heard into the unnecessary application to this elementary school!"

"Yep," said Tobi grinning (of course, the principal couldn't see that due to his retarded orange mask) at the principal, "Mummy told me to show off my intelligence to everyone I meet."

"Mhmm," grunted the principal sceptically, raising an eyebrow at the six year-old, "And what kind of 'intelligence' is that?"

"I've only run into a wall twice today!"

"Of course…"

"Okay, now that we've gone through your 'intelligence' (*coughidiocycough*) we can put you in a class…" said the principal formally.

Suddenly a young 'man' (and by man I mean kindergartener) ran into the office.

"We have got a problem, sir!"

The principal sighed and rolled his eyes. "What is it, Daisuke?"

"It's…It's… The cafeteria ran out of tater tots!" cried the toddler, flinging his arms into the air dramatically.

The principal rubbed his temples. "Daisuke," he sighed, "We don't have a cafeteria."

"Oh," said Daisuke, blinking dumbly, "That explains a lot." With that, Daisuke walked out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Oi," sighed the principal, "Okay Tobi, now, which of these seven-hundred twenty-four classes would you like to join?"

"Hmm, how 'bout number one?"

The principal sighed exasperatedly, "Why, exactly, do you want to join that class?"

"'Cause I can't count higher than that."

"Of course you can't…"


"Okay, Daisuke, what is two plus one?"

"…Twenty-one?"

The teacher sighed. Suddenly, the door to class one flung open to reveal an orange-faced monstrosity.

"HIIIII TEACHER-SAN!" cried the basketball.

The teacher winced and placed his hands over his ears. "Erm… are you the new student, Tobi?"

"YEAHHHHH!" said the pumpkin.

"Er, you can sit beside Daisuke…"

"OKAY, TEACHER-SANNNN!" cried Tobi skipping to the empty desk beside the vaguely familiar student.

"Okay, Tobi. Do you know what two plus one is?"

"Twenty-one?"

"…This is gonna be a long day…"


Riiiiiiiing, went the recessbell. "Yay, Tobi loves recess!" he shouted. He was the first to jump out of his seat and sprint out the door.

Once all the toddlers were out they ran around and played. Tobi however just wanted to splash in the mud (even though there was none.)

"Man Tobi loves the mud, splish, splash, splish, splash, splish, yay!"

"TOBI!" cried Daisuke running over to him, "Why do you keep stepping on the grass? Why can't you just stand? OH MY GOD! IS THERE FIRE ON THE GRASS? IS THE FIRE HOT! OH MY GOD, CALL THE AMBULANCE! TOBI'S FEET ARE ON FIRE!"

The other toddlers looked up and stared at the two for a few seconds, before running away screaming bloody murder. "Gah!" screamed one, "Maybe it's contagious! I DON'T WANT MY FEET TO BURST UP IN FLAMES! I NEED THOSE!"

Tobi blinked innocently up at Daisuke. "…What are feet?"

"…"


"So I was like, 'Mummy I need to wear my mask today!' and she was like, 'nuh-uh,' and I was like, 'uh-huh,' and she was like 'nuh-uh,' and I was like-"

"Tobi… what does this have to do with the alphabet?"


The lunch bell rang, and mostly of the kids cheered, hurrying towards their schoolbags and pulling out their stereotypical lunch bags.

Tobi and Daisuke, however, did not.

They both burst out in hysterical sobbing.

The teacher, which I now ingenuously dub Mr. Twentyone, blinked at the two boys, who were hugging the crap out of each other with rather comical anime tears streaming down their chubby wittle cheeks.

Mr. Twentyone cautiously stalked up to the two four year olds, his eyebrow raised. "Tobi, Daisuke, What's wrong?" asked the rather piteous kindergarten teacher.

"Lunchtime means that school is halfway over!" sobbed itty bitty Daisuke-chan.

Tobi let out a dramatic (and rather strangled) snivel of agreement.

Mr. Twentyone didn't know whether to squeal like a fangirl or roll his eyes. He decided on the latter, as it didn't make him seem like a pedo.

The teacher patted the two (wittle itty bitty~) tots on the head and sighed, "But Lunchtime also means that you can have cupcakes."

Emo-corner forgotten, the two (possibly mental) toddlers jumped up and ran out of the room as fast as their teeny legs could carry them.

Mr. Twentyone sweat-dropped.


"Art time~," cooed a fifty-year old lady as she skipped into the room. She turned to the (wittle teeny tiny~) toddlers and cooed, "Hello, wittle guys! I am your art teacher! My name is Missus Eyre, but you special wittle munchkins can call me Missus Eyre!"

"Are you retarded, un?" called out a voice from the crowd. Some kids sniggered, some laughed, some glared, and some nodded in silent agreement.

"Not as retarded as you, brat," muttered the redheaded boy beside him, to which the blonde glared and scoffed, but otherwise did nothing.

Missus Eyre grinned and pulled the itty bitty wittle blonde into a bonecrushing hug and squealed, "AWWWWW!" Once she calmed down (and the blonde finished convulsing), she cooed, "To answer your question, sweetie, I am!"

Both the blonde and the ginger twitched.

"Today," cooed the (extremely creepy) lady, "We will be making finger paintings~"

She held out an example picture, and all of the kids 'ooooo'ed and 'awwwww'ed.

All of them except the ginger and the blonde.

The two twitched and both muttered, "She's worse than you are ((un))."

The bat-shit crazy lady put canvases and paint in their respective spots on all the easels, then turned to the class, clasped her hands together and cooed, "Choose an easel and get to work~ When you're done, we'll show it to the class!" She smiled at the toddlers, and the blond and redhead had an urge to bash this lady's head in.

After about an hour later, the tots were done. Miss Eyre came up to the front and chose Tobi(-chan~) to show his piece first.

The masked chibi gingerly picked up his canvas and held it up as if it were the work of god.

On the canvas was a crudely drawn ice cream cone.

"My name is Tobi and I like Ice cream!" ^-^

The next to come up was itty bitty Daisuke-tan.

On his canvas was a rather mangled looking smiley face.

"My name is Daisuke!" cried the dark brown haired chibi cutely, his chubby wittle hands making over exaggerated motions, "'Nd I wuv smilin'!"

Needless to say, Miss Eyre had a cutegasm.

Next up was the intimidating-but-still-cute redhead who looked like he was stoned.

He smirked and gestured to his painting… and all jaws hit the floor.

On the canvas was something a-kin to the work of a master artist. A beautiful pale-brown haired ballerina stood in the centre of a dark stage, no audience in the seats, and in a rather melancholy Arabesque position. Her head was bowed, showing nothing of her face. She was dressed in a beautiful pink satin ballerina outfit, the lace black around her midsection. Thin white lines were attached to her neck, ankles, and wrists, making her seem almost like… a puppet.

The redhead smirked again and smoothly said, "My name is Akasuna Sasori, and one day I'll kill you all and turn you into my puppets," The boy scowled at the class, pointed at the blond boy and darkly continued, "preferably starting with him."

Ironically, the blond boy was next. He jumped up, an insane and slightly unsettling grin plastered across his face, and sauntered over to the front of the bland art classroom. He turned around and showed his painting to the class.

The jaws once again hit the (filthy) floor.

The canvas was picture of an extremely life-like explosion disturbing a once-peaceful field, the trees and the other foliage leaning away from the hell-raising destructive force. The explosion was full of colors, leading from the fiery ruby red to the warm, ashen gray of smoke. A deep blood red was splattered across the vehement field. A hand was raised across the opus in a way that made you feel as if you were seeing this from your own eyes. The hand was covered with clotted and fresh blood, as well as dried mud and dirt. The hand was coved in bruises and burns, and it gave the impression that the blood did not belong to the owner of the hand…

The blondes unnerving grin widened until it was in the likeness of the Cheshire Cat, and he ecstatically cried out, "My name is Deidara and my art… Is an explosion!"

The deranged tot stuck up his fingers to form a hand-sign and he screamed, "KATSU!"

…The art room exploded.


"THAT WAS AWESOME!" gleefully cried (itty bitty~) Daisuke, his hands flinging around wildly.

"I know, right? Un!" cooed Deidara, the lop-sided grin splayed across his face once more.

"It was… okay. It would've been better if it lasted forever, though, Brat," orated the chibi scorpion, "Art is Eternal, after all."

The bomber scowled and shook his head disapprovingly, "Danna, art is fleeting! A moment of beauty flashing with passion, then fading, never to be seen again! Art lasting for a long time is so bor-ing!"

The red-head growled lowly at the (itty bitty wittle~) terrorist.

Tobi popped in, "I think art is Ice-cream!" ^-^

Deidara, Sasori and Daisuke sweat-dropped.


"I see you've included the first day of school you've ever had in this unnecessary application into this organization… which you are already afflicted with," said the leader, narrowing his smoky purple eyes at the mask-wearing Akatsuki member.

"Yep," said Tobi grinning at the Akatsuki Leader.

"Why the hell am I in your elementary school?" snapped Deidara.

"Yeah!" growled 'Sori, "And what in the world is an elementary school!"

"It's the first school you go to on Earth!" cooed Tobi-kun.

Pain, Deidara and Sasori sweatdropped.

"What's Earth, Tobi?" sighed Nagato exasperatedly, rubbing his temples.

"It's a planet that vends our anime!" cried the Ice-cream loving man.

"An-i-may?" asked the blond, cocking his head to the side and blinking dumbly.

"Yeah!" crooned the mentally retarded Akatsuki member, "Look! I have seven box sets!"

Seven 'Naruto Shippuden' box-sets randomly appeared beside Tobi.

"Most of us die!" cried the retard ecstatically, "Starting with Sasori!"

A tick mark showed itself on Sasori's head, "There's no way I would die first. Itachi would commit suicide because of his emo-ness."

"It's true," deadpanned a voice beside the puppet.

Sasori whipped around and stifled a scream, "What the hell! Itachi, when did you get here!"

Itachi shrugged and monotoned, "I wanted to watch my Naruto Shippuden box-sets."

As the Akatsuki members began quarrelling, the Leader sighed and muttered, "Our author is deranged."

THE END