We find ourselves at chapter four! How quickly the time flies.
For some reason, I make Tamama say 'desu', but I can't bring myself to wrie 'de arimasu'. ...Meh. Whatever.
Enjoy!
Dororo stepped out of the bathroom, his mask back on and a towel in his hand. He sighed as he wiped it over his face, savoring the feel of the soft fabric running over his skin. Though he had already taken one, he was glad that he had taken another bath, even if it had been on Kururu's orders. The hot water had helped ease some of his stress and take a bit of the tension out of his shoulders. He was sure that here was some reason Kururu wanted him to take a bath, but he was determined not to worry about it.
All the same, he wished that he had been able to spend some more time talking with Giroro before Kururu had shown up. He and his childhood friend didn't get to speak very often, what with Keroro's daily operations and all.
And it was always so comfortable when he spoke to Giroro. Sometimes it seemed like Giroro was the only one he could truly talk to, and it felt good to know that there was someone who would listen to you and understand how you feel.
Dororo smiled. No matter what Kururu forces me to do, he thought, At leas I'll always have Giroro.
But enough of this sappy, lovey-dovey stuff. This is a comedy.
"Dororo-senpai! Think fast!"
Despite the warning, Dororo didn't actually have time to think before the soccer ball collided with his skull.
Dororo collapsed in a heap, the pattern of the soccer ball imprinted into his face. The ball bounced away and rolled under a nearby table.
Tamama walked over to Dororo, biting his lip. "Uh... oops." He glanced away and smiled. "Ah! There's my ball, desu!"
The adorable little tadpole picked up his soccer ball and went on his way, leaving Dororo on the floor to wallow in pain.
Dororo sobbed, his eyes filling with tears. "Why is everyone so cruel?!"
--
Meanwhile, in the secret base...
"Gero gero gero gero!" Keroro lifted a champagne glass in the air, grinning at Moa. "At last, we can be alone and celebrate!"
Moa smiled and lifted her own glass, which was filled with water. "Congratulations, Uncle!"
"Ah, but you, too, Lady Moa! You were fantastic!" Keroro danced around, spilling a bit of his champagne. "When you came in and said your line... 'Uncle! Orders from Central!' Everyone believed you right away! A great performance! Gero gero gero!"
"Thank you, Uncle," said Moa, blushing at the praise. "I'm just glad you'll be able to see Himumu-chan in concert. You wanted her to win so badly! You kept insisting that she was the best singer in the universe. You even kept a picture of her under your hat... You could say, hero worship?"
"...Well, you're certainly very observant, Lady Moa," said Keroro, laughing nervously. "...Anyway..." He lifted his glass again. "I propose a toast... To the success of 'Operation: See Himumu-chan's Concert Using Convenient Coincidence Made More Believable by Using the Normally Totally Honest Angol Moa and the Fact that Convenient Coincidences are a Common Plot Device in this Series'! Or Operation SHCUCCMMBUNTHAMFCCCPDS, for short."
"Or, for shorter," said Moa, lifting her glass to his, "To us! Like, the dynamic duo?"
"I'll drink to that," said Keroro, tapping his glass against hers and then downing its contents in one chug. He put down his glass and sighed. "Ahh..."
Moa giggled. "Ha ha ha ha... You'e so funny, Uncle!"
Keroro grinned, joining in with obnoxiously cheerful laughter of his own. "Gero gero gero gero!"
"Ha ha ha ha!"
"Gero gero gero gero!"
"Ha ha ha ha!"
"Gero gero gero gero!"
"Ha ha ha ha!"
"GRRRRRRAAAHHH..."
That last, furious sound came not from the two happy, scheming aliens in the room, but from the door, where a certain someone lurked in the shadows that formed around him, as though they were attracted to his hatred.
"Jealousy... jealousy," Tamama seethed, squeezing the soccer ball angrily. "How dare that wench have a toast with my Sergeant... My Sergeant! Mine!" He grinded his teeth, his upper lip twitching. "A toast... to us? To us, she says? There is only one 'us'! Only one 'us' that could be toasted to! And that's the 'us' that is me and Sergeant!"
He turned away, unable to bear the sight of the happy scene any longer. "Why would he have a toast with her, anyway? Wench! Horrible she-demon!" (We'll explain! Fortunately for Keroro, Tamama did not show up in time to hear what the toast was actually about!) "Someday... Someday I'll make her pay!"
Once more he heard the sound of the happy laughter, as loud as though they were trying to rub it in his face. Tamama bit his lip, holding back tears. His grip on the soccer ball tightened, squeezing it so hard it threatened to pop.
"Someday!"
With his final cry, Tamama dropped the soccer ball and unleashed his most powerful kick upon it, putting all his anger and jealousy behind the attack. The soccer ball went flying through the air and straight through the portal into the sergeant's room.
Tamama stared after it dumbly. "Uh-oh."
A moment of silence, and then the noise.
'CRASH! BANG! bidda-bidda-bidda BOOOOOOOOMMMM crshaksajkdgf BAM BAM BAM BAM'
Tamama could do nothing but gape in horror. After another ten minutes of the destruction and madness going on on the other side of the portal, the unrelenting onomatopaeia finally stopped.
It took Tamama another few minutes of being frozen in place before he could build of enough courage to go into the room.
In a word... chaos.
Nothing had survived. Not even the ceiling had survived. It had a chunk out of it the size of Keron. All furniture was overturned, and all items destroyed. The stereo was nothing but metal and circuitry scattered over the floor. The wall had dents in it, and the table was unrecognizable. The only thing left intact was the soccer ball, lying in the center of the room without a single scratch upon its leather.
Tamama's mouth opened and closed several times. No sound would come out.
He was in trouble.
He was in soooo much trouble.
And the worst part of it was...
...the Sergeant... was going to hate him for sure.
The room could be fixed with the Kero ball... but the Gundam models could never be replaced.
"Oh my, Tama-chan... What have you done? ...ku ku ku ku ku..."
Author's Notes: That is one tough soccer ball.
Kururu now has three platoon members under his control... mu fu fu fu fu...
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