Pre-Comment: I AM SUPER SORRY THAT I HAVE NOT UPDATED THIS IN SO LONG! But I want you all to know that I love you and really appreciate all the warm fuzzies you give me! I read them at night when the anti-depressants stop working and hold them close to my heart.*
Chapter Seven: So You Have a Brother Complex, Huh?
Name: Schneizel el Britannia
Objective: Your every wish and desire.
Skill Sets: Chess, strategy, knowing every single way to annoy Lelouch, fencing, penmanship, politics, marksmanship, poetry, equestrianism, evil masterminding, and baking (preferably with Lelouch, although he always has a stick with him to prevent me from getting closer).
Past Employment: Prime Minister of Britannia, Zero's Slave.
ooo
Monday.
"…cried so much when he wet the bed!"
Approximately twelve minutes past five.
"By six, of course, he grew out of it, but everyone always teased him about being a bed-wetter until he was twelve when—"
Wait—make that thirteen.
"And there was another time, although he'll never admit it, that he was scared of the dark after Clovis—"
He should've been home ten minutes ago.
(The sad fact that he lived three minutes away from Pizza Hut unimportant.)
"—horror of all kinds. Wolves, witches, ghosts, very large spiders, you name—"
This was beginning to get ridiculous.
"—in fact once had a very dear pet tarantula that I named after—"
He glanced at his secretary, Ly—(glare)—er—Nakuru, hoping for her stunningly amazing quick wits to somehow come up with some fantastical appointment he had fantastically forgotten to get out of this fantastically boring biography of this man's dead younger brother.
Who just happened to be the late Emperor.
Who was slain.
Literally.
Sword an—well, we've gone over this in detail before, haven't we?
Nakuru gave him a sheepish look and shrugged. Looking down at her desk, she scribbled something on a Post-It and held it up for him to read written in bold, black marker.
You're on your own.
Ah… fishsticks.
"...this one time we did it with pie and after that he was terrified witless of the apple vari—"
"Mr Britannia," Lydic cut off, clearing his throat loudly.
Nakuru blinked, all ears—even though her eyes were smartly glued to the blank screensaver of a Pizza Hut logo that had been bouncing around on her computer screen for the past thirteen minutes.
Since moving her personal workspace right into his to keep him on task for review week, Lydic had quickly realized that all she ever really, truly did here was homework and Internet shopping.
And if he were a dumber man, and a more-caring of work-time supervisor, he would be reprimanding her for it.
"Incase you've forgotten, we're here to discuss a job placement."
The man simply smiled. "Of course, and I'm sure you'll find everything's in working condition on my application. Feel free to let me know when I can start. Now, where was I… Oh yes, the pie incident. Well, ever since that day when—"
Lydic sighed, shoulders slumping with it. With a quick snap of the paper, drowning out the someone else's life story background music, Lydic read over the resume just as the man was going over the various levels of trauma he had put his questionably beloved little brother through using baked goods.
Whoever his little brother was, he was surely a saint for not having killed the man already.
(Or, trying and failing as the case were.)
Love was truly a terrifying thing.
Now, where was he—oh right, the resume.
Schneizel el Britannia.
Huh.
Wasn't that the name of someone famous? Or at least important? Or supposed to be dead?
Chess, strategy, knowing every single way to annoy Lelouch, fencing, pen—
Wait.
Backtrack.
Knowing every single way to annoy Lelouch.
He cleared his throat once more.
"Mr Britannia, I'd like to ask you about this, uh, questionable skill of yours… 'knowing every single way to annoy Lelouch.' How is that… useful?"
Operative word being useful.
It was here that the man sitting in front of him looked genuinely shocked before clasping his hands together in his lap looking quite concerned with himself. "How is it not? He's back from the dead through some fantastically unbelievable way and wandering around, you know. What if he comes to harass this establishment? I can then shoo him away," he concluded cheerfully, with hand motions and everything.
There was a bit of silence.
And really, what else could possibly fill this awkward gap without making it less awkward than the standard Awkward Silence™.
Lydic glanced at the nearly-full shredder next to his desk. "I can't be fussy, I'll take it. Let's move on then. Specifically to one of your… ah, previous employments. Specifically the one where you mention being Zero's Slave. Just how is that relevant on a resume?"
And just what kind of slave?
He wasn't even sure he wanted to know.
"I make a very good slave you know."
Right.
Let's just not even…
And he didn't even want to look at the pink heart next to baking, God forbid he mention it.
Unfortunately, Pizza Hut Quality Guidelines Manual version 3.3 required otherwise of him.
"Please elaborate," Lydic said through grit teeth, wincing.
Schneizel smiled. "Well, like this morning, her Empress was feeling lonely and wanted to hear all about the late emperor. So I spent nearly all morning just telling her everything there was to know about our cute, adorable brother. Of course he'd slit your throat sooner rather than later for saying that if he could."
Lydic blinked. "And can he?"
Was it bad to hope?
The man laughed—so hard that his entire frame shook. "Heavens, no! Lelouch couldn't do more damage than a disgruntled kitten. It's really cute actually. Part of the reason I always picked on him when he was a child. But then he learned that buttons could be pushed rather easily to the effect that he would like," Schneizel added with a sigh.
"I see. How… unfortunate for him."
Grin.
"Most unfortunate."
"I'm sure it was. Moving right along then. There's one other issue I might have with this resume of yours."
"Please do indulge me."
"And I quote 'evil masterminding.' Please explain."
"Well, I clearly have superior skill in it than my little brother. And what if Dominoes across the street decided to pull something funny?"
Huh.
Funny.
Lydic was having a moment of severe déjà vu.
"Funny?"
"Yes. Funny. Like poison your stock! I can reroute it and have it decimate them three times over!"
Decimate?
Should he be concerned about this man's use of vocabulary?
"Alright. I'll take that."
Take that Pizza Hut Quality Guidelines Manual version 3.3!
"Excellent."
"Just one last question for you and I believe we can wrap things up here."
Schneizel's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Oh? And what momentous question would that be?"
"Do you, uh… believe in magic?"
Blink.
Blink.
And then the man bridged his hands together and smiled patiently. "Mr Verell, what century do we live in? There's no such thing as magic." he asked, chuckling.
Oh what.
Did his ears deceive him?
An otherwise normal response from someone who was clearly overqualified for menial, unskilled labour that Pizza Hut required from an otherwise… eccentric person?
Well, there was only one response to that.
"You're hir—"
"Geass, on the other hand, is a force to be reckoned with that gives you supernatural powers."
Silence.
"Right, I think I've heard enough. Thank you for your time," Lydic said with a smile, rising from his seat. He held his hand out for Schneizel to take.
Schneizel beamed and rose to shake Lydic's hand. "Wonderful! When shall I start?"
"About that; let us call you. And may I remind you that stalking is crime and considered a felony in thirteen different states."
Confusion swept over Schneizel's face. "I don't under—"
"There's the door, good-bye!"
Looking disappointed, Schneizel left the office without another word.
Slowly, Lydic leaned back in his chair as it squeaked. "Ly—uh—Nakuru, while you're on Amazon there, order me some drugs to handle general schizophrenia. I think I can bill the company if I pitch it as a 'Pizza Hut is Good for Mental Health' thing."
"Do you want the regular or extra strength?"
Comment:
Just remember: It's okay to lie as long as you don't get caught.
Also remember: I will shirk any and all responsibility for any harmful repercussions the above mentioned advice may incur.
If you'd like more, let me know with some suggestions, and ideas! I'm no longer polling because I'm lazy and terrible at politics, so let me know in a review!
Please R&R.
- Minute Maid
Beverage of Queens.
*Apology not actually sincere. Warm fuzzies and love may or may not actually exist. Minute Maid does not actually sleep with reviews. Or reviewers. All further inquiries on the veracity, hidden-subtext, or deeper meaning of the above statement will be shredded without notice.
