Happy Fourth of July everyone! Enjoy this rapidly insane mission while you watch the fireworks…And be sure to stay tuned for Sunday's follow up mission (this is part one of two) Mwa ha ha ha ha ha!
Seriously folks, be safe out there and DO NOT do anything stupid with Fireworks. You could lose a hand or worse that way.
Have a Good one.
Mission Twenty Five - Operation Secure Some Ammo
Reno tapped his finger against the Plexiglas window, watching the agitated creature on the other side pace back and forth with the occasional glare. It was like watching a self-conscious zebra try to fit in with a bunch of angrier, more hormonal self-conscious zebras and fail miserably. Only, much cooler.
For several minutes, the red haired Turk snickered at the state of his superior, knowing that no matter how many times the angry Wutainese man tried to strangle him with his mind, he was immune. When he got out, it would be a different story. But for now, he intended on enjoying every second of humiliation occurring behind that three quarters of an inch pane of glass.
He tossed the black phone in the air and caught it with a skillful flick of the wrist.
"When Cissnei said you were in jail, I didn't think she meant this kind yo." He read the plaque above the door in amusement.
"Shut up and find a way for me to get out of here right now."
"I don't know about that boss," he leaned back in the chair. "You did a nice number to that little old lady. From the way 'Nei put it, you're in for a long time. Sounded like things were getting pretty heated over the phone too."
Tseng left out a breath of relief. At least one of his more sensible Turks handled the phone call.
Reno smirked. "Dunno exactly what was said, but something tells me attack kittens and a fluffy chocobo named Barracuda are involved. You gotta watch that one yo. She's into some twisted stuff."
The glass rattled as the lead Turk banged a fist against it, startling the flamboyant Turk across from him. "You went through her mail again? Do you have a death wish? I already warned you once about how this whole woman thing works. She'll-"
Reno hung up the phone while Tseng continued to yell and vent. Once the glass stopped shaking, he retrieved the phone and listened to the silence upon the other end, the elder Turk's face red from yelling.
"But Tseng, the woman's insane. I mean if you saw half of the things she gets in her mailbox," he produced a small manila envelop with the words "Top Sekret." scrawled across the front in haphazard crayon and began pulling envelops out.
The elder Turk rubbed the small dot in the center of his forehead, willing whatever invisible sniper was aiming for him to hurry up and pull the trigger. Reno mounting a pointless investigation on his own was like asking Palmer to eat moderately at an all you can eat lard bar. It was not going to end pretty. The red haired Turk pressed a small catalogue against the glass.
"Moomba Madness? What the hell Tseng!" he began flipping through the pages, revealing several of the ferocious little beasts in various stances. "Care. Feeding. Shelters. Famous moombas in history. MATING calls? What. The. Hell."
Tseng sighed, "Did it ever occur to you that she likes Moombas?"
"Okay. Fine," he held up an envelop with the Shinra logo across the top corner. "Explain this one boss man!"
Tseng, for a moment, considered pleading guilty and willingly spending his ten months in prison for a crime he did not commit. Was this Turk really that dense?
"That would be her renewed 'License to Kill' for certain red haired cockroaches such as yourself, the other two Shinra logo letters contain her quarterly rent for that closet she calls a dorm, and a reminder to renew her driver's license for that bike of hers. Any other pointless questions you have about your comrade's mail, Butterfly Boy?"
Reno nodded, shoving the letters back into the envelop and drawing a powder blue one from his back pocket.
"All right. I'll let the first couple slide," the letter stuck to the glass with the static generated. "What in the hell do you call this?"
Tseng read over the feminine script and shrugged. "It looks perfectly normal to me, Reno."
"It looks like the makings of a psycho! Holy Tseng! She is not in her right mind yo! I mean, just look at this! Right there," he pointed to some lettering. "Right there. It spells out psycho in training."
"I'd be more concerned if that letter was addressed to you instead of her. Now, put her mail back in her mailbox and just back away before she puts that shuriken where shurikens should never go and feeds you to some hungry Moomba."
"But Tseng-"
"Give Cissnei her mail back and I'll help you get back onto the Man Ladder you so embarrassingly fell off of back in Wutai," he looked down at his nails with that sly smirk of his. "If you don't, I know some good fan girls who would just love to see a Reno x something yaoi fic with lots of mpreg going on."
"You sick bastard!"
"If I must be, then yes, yes I am. Now if you don't mind, I've got tea with the, " he shuddered. "'girls' in ten minutes. If you have nothing more to say to me, then-"
The red head leaned backwards, making the chair stand on its hind legs as he propped his feet up against the glass and twirled the phone cord around his fingers. "Relax yo. We'll get ya out of here no problem before ya become someone's little Scarlet doll. Just leave it to us."
Tseng paled. He was afraid Reno would say something like that, but before he could protest, the flamboyant red head's chair tumbled backwards, and he was gone.
Cissnei's Office, Lunch Hour…
She hated her job.
With Tseng being behind bars for attacking little old ladies and 'the Voice' from the office barking generalized orders from the shadows and calling her every ten minutes, the unpleasant task of controlling and trying to remotely contain her fellow co-workers fell solely upon her shoulders.
"No Reno. I will not authorize a mission for you," she adjusted her reading spectacles and tried once again to read the latest mission briefing. From the looks of it, they were due for yet another trip to the mall with Rufus in search of fashionable girdles soon. She quickly filed it under non-essential, finding the piece of offensive paper once again in front of her.
"Aw, come on 'Nei. We need this mission. My-I mean Tseng's manhood depends upon it."
For the Holy's sake. She scanned over the piece of paper with a sigh.
Rude glanced up from his magazine in warning. "Don't listen to him, Cissnei. He's trying to lure you into the dark side of the cone of lameness."
Reno's mouth dropped open. Since when did Rude go against him? They were partners in crime darn it!
The auburn haired female pushed the form across the desk and shook her head. "No."
Her PHS shrilled, making even Rude groan. With a sigh, she checked the number and reluctantly answered. "Yes Sir."
There was mumbling on the other line, making her scowl.
"No Sir. I'm afraid I'm not authorized to-" Her fist connected with the surface of the desk, making Reno retreat in surprise. He'd seen her irritated sure, but angry, not like this. Whoever was on the other line was really treading in dangerous territory. "Now look here you greasy little weasel-"
There was a click, the line going dead.
She flipped the phone shut with a growl and glared at her red haired comrade. "Give. Me. That. Form."
Her signature was not even dry yet before she stormed to the door and collected her keys, glaring at the boys.
"What are you waiting for? We have an idiot to unseat."
Meanwhile at the Shinra DMV…
"I'm sorry, Mr. Tuesti, but according to this you're-"
"Dead," he scowled, taping his fingers against the countertop. "Tell me something I don't know. How do I get that changed?"
The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow and continued chewing on her piece of gum, studying the frazzled engineer.
"But you're dead Sir. We don't grant ID cards to zombies." She directed his attention to a sign that clearly stated - No Zombies or Undead, no matter how alive they might look. They can STILL suck out your brains people!
Reeve swore under his breath. "Look, Miss. I don't want to cause any problems, but there was a simple misunderstanding. If you would only grant me a temporary ID card-"
"Read the sign buddy. No zombies or undead. You're not living, so no ID for you."
She struck his knuckle with a ruler, driving him several feet in retreat. With a sigh, he turned and walked back outside, pondering his options.
He sat in a disgruntled heap atop the steps, watching the crowds walk by with their usual merriment. This was all Tseng's fault. Any other victim and the processing would have taken months. But he ended up dropping one piece of canvas and a bucket of paint with a Pringles container full of paint brushes, and he was automatically declared dead.
He needed a miracle. Something to prove him 'undead' at least. As though reading his mind, three familiar figures stepped into view from around the corner, arguing as usual.
By the Fountain…
Reno rolled his eyes at the standard array of firecrackers, stink bombs, and various other frizzlers and frazzlers illegally sold to brighten up most people's holiday. Great as this stuff was, he needed something a little more powerful if their plan was going to work. Perhaps it was the side effects of a little too much Pink Lemonade and Gatoraid. Maybe it was the nachos they'd eaten for lunch. But, somewhere during that time frame, three great minds had managed to settle on one insane mission to save the world.
Ahem, I mean, at least save their dignity…Maybe…
It had been Rude who ventured to the dark side first, donning a lab coat and darker sunglasses and laying out the basic fundamentals of what they wanted and could do on a chalkboard. Cissnei had provided detailed information on what the target's habits were, without actually mentioning who it was who was going to be facing their wrath. Still, Reno shuddered, the way she had said it made him all the more excited to actually be a part of this historical day.
It was a pity Vincent wasn't there to stop them. They really could have used a humanoid guinea pig.
"Reno?" Cissnei held the terrified rodent-like creature protectively against her blazer. "Are you sure an actual guinea pig is necessary for this? I mean, any one of use could do it easily."
"Where's your sense of adventure 'Nei?" He tried to grab the unfortunate rodent as they continued to peruse the various sparklers.
She was already regretting letting her dark side take over.
"I don't think Sir Squeaksalot is going to appreciate being strapped to an explosive device…"
The guinea pig squealed in protest.
"Ah, he'll be fine yo. These things survive anything. Right little guy?" He drew his hand back with a vicious bite marring his fingers.
The female Turk retreated a few steps while her male comrades tried to sort out their fireworks problem. It was then that she saw a ghost…
"Reeve? Is that you?" Cissnei could have hugged the frazzled engineer walking around the fountain. "Thank Holy you're alive!"
For a moment, the engineer appeared somewhat confused. Had she actually addressed him as being alive?
"No I'm not. I'm 'dead'."
"Ah! A zombie! Rude! The antizombie repellant!"
The bald man sighed, trying to remember what he had done with the phoenix downs again.
Cissnei shook her head in embarrassment as Reno proceeded to zap the unfortunate engineer with his EMR. The guinea pig fidgeted in her grasp with a nervous squeak.
"That's an easy fix Sir. I could just refile your paperwork and you'd be considered living again when I get back to my office."
"Whatever's left of it-" Reno snickered. At this, Reeve raised an eyebrow of curiosity, trying to regain his footing. Uh oh, what were Tseng's 'children' up to now?
"Excuse me?"
Reno rolled his eyes. "Tseng's in prison, Vincent's being flirted with by Hojo again, Cissnei's supposed to be in charge of us two, and some mysterious voice has taken up residence in Tseng's office, leeching the sanity from each of us without actually being seen."
The female Turk sighed. "This Voice actually kidnapped Tseng's goldfish. So this is sort of a rescue/revenge/Reno's playtime sort of mission."
Reeve's eyes widened. "Not Zanzibar! Oh Holy that sinister Voice will pay for this!"
He marched over to the fireworks stand, grabbed Rude's plans, and whispered something to the attendant.
"Oh, in that case, you want this one."
He pointed to a golden pedestal rimmed in light as mystical music began to play.
There it was, in a colorful wrapper depicting exploding watermelons and frightened chocobos; with warnings in eight thousand different languages, including Nibelheim and Gongagan Hillbilly Redneckese.
And in golden letters across the wrapper were the words - "The Fizzler".
--
Coming up on the next episode of One Hundred Tiny Missions…
"Don't flush that toilet!"
You don't want to miss this one!
Until next time…
SageQuill :)