Disclaimer:

Who needs to write that one doesn't own the characters when it's a fanfic? O.o Well, anyway: obviously I don't own the Hellsing characters. Just the Nazi Captain's cap. It's pretty :3

Behold ze power of Randomness!

Flashback:
Bernadotte has robbed a bank and sheriff Walter's new assistant shows up at Bernadotte's and his sidekick the Captain's secret hideout.

"Did you really think you could escape, eeeh?"
The blonde woman moved the straw to the other side of her mouth and pointed her gun towards Bernadotte's head and pulled the trigger. But luckily she was a bad marksman and only hit the brim of his hat so that it fell off and fell to the floor. A hole could be seen in the front and it smoked a bit.
"…", the Captain shouted when he picked up and dusted off the hat, and put it back on Bernadotte's head. Because no main character is complete without a trademark hat.

"Fuck it", the blond woman whose name was Seras Victoria, as we could read in the last chapter's spoiler, swore.
"You robbed the bank in my district, something you're going to regret", Seras proclaimed loudly and reloaded her gun.

Bernadotte sighed and pulled a shiny Colt out of its holster, and pointed it at Seras.
"Yippee ki yay, police girl…", he said and fired two shots. Both of them hit Seras' forehead and she sank to the floor in a bloody pile.

"…", the Captain stated calmly.

The dingo, who was earlier resting in the shadow of the robbed bank, entered through the door and started to gnaw on one of Seras' fingers. After a few bites he gripped the collar of her shirt and pulled her into the desert to eat the rest of her.

Bernadotte himself blew the smoke off the barrel like a real cowboy and put the revolver back into the holster.
"Now we have some less to take care of. Well?" He turned to the Captain.
"Is there any food left? I'm starving…"
"…", the Captain answered and pointed to the few meatballs which were left on the chest/table.
"Ah, perfect! Nothing beats your meatballs!"
Bernadotte sat down and put on his robber's scarf again, but this time to prevent the lingonberry jam from staining his shirt.

He had just pierced a lingonberry jam covered meatball onto his fork when someone came storming through the door. This someone was dressed in a cassock, a much too small woven poncho and a colorful sombrero.
"Onions, bell peppers, jalapeno, olives, minced meat sauce, hot sausage, taco spice mix, AMEN!", the man with the sombrero, who apparently was a priest, and from Mexico, shouted.
"Amen Caramba! What do I see? Swedish meatballs? What's that, eeeh?"
"Umm, meatballs? And who are you, if I might ask?!"
"I'm father Alexander Alberto Anderson!" he said and threw himself over the meatballs and poured them into a black trash bag. During the course of three seconds, all the traces of the meatballs' existence had been erased by a quick fire on the floor of the hut. And in an equally short time they had been replaced with a complete taco dinner, with unrelated spaghetti for two on the chest/table.
"….!" the Captain shouted. He picked up his signs once again and scribbled;
"What the hell do you think you're doing with my meatballs!?!?"
But Anderson had already disappeared into the desert on his one-wheeled bike, shouting "Amen caramba!"

Etoooo, it seemed to get a little bloody... What did I rate this as? ...Sorry all you innocent kids who read this… But if you're reading the Hellsing manga it should be okay… Gomen…