Alas folks, we begin a new story arc in the missions (one of two actually). You'll enjoy it as poor Vincent suffers this round with his own group of rather 'personal' missions while the rest of the crew embarks on their own minor missions. Enjoy folks!
Mission Fifty Three - Operation Consultation
It was to be the confrontation of a lifetime. Turk versus infantrymen. Right there in the center of the impromptu ballroom. Tseng sighed in embarrassment, uncertain of whether or not he desired to be associated with the two morons currently gaining all of the attention of the entire company for the untimely demise of a plate of cocktail wieners and what used to be a bowl of fruit punch.
There was just something about watching a lowly infantryman KO and repeatedly revive and re-KO the red haired menace that was almost painful to watch.
"I'm not-" Reno landed on the floor again as Cloud Strife, infantryman lower than snail dung, kicked him and stole his lone Hit Point yet again.
"Done-"
And again.
"Talking to-"
And again.
"You-"
And again.
Tseng sipped his cup of fruit juice and watched. He would have to ask his youngest Turk to hack the surveillance system later so they could submit the footage to Midgar's Finest Morons in hopes of winning the grand prize and paying their rent this month. If Reno continued to humiliate himself, they'd definitely beat the grass skirted Zack trying to grow French fries in Aerith's garden clip.
He didn't know what was sadder, the fact that he was watching a level 53 Turk of all things being beat up by a level 2 infantryman, or the fact that he saw monetary gain in such a fight. They were going to have to seriously level up by the time this was over.
The fight would have gone on forever, had it not been for the untimely crash of another such Turk to his right taking what appeared to be a valiant dive into the pink frosted cupcakes. Immediately, all eyes fell upon the moaning Turk covered in naked cherub sprinkles.
And the ambulance had to be called.
Shinra General Mercy Hospital, 4th floor, half of an hour laterā¦
Reno sat in the waiting room, arms folded stubbornly across his chest and glaring with the night nurse.
"Why do I have to be here. Cissnei and Rude didn't have to come!"
Tseng sighed and picked up another magazine depicting happy chocobos receiving vaccines.
"Because neither one of them do well around hospitals. We usually have to pry Rude out of the air vent and Cissnei usually scales the elevator before security can catch her."
Reno scowled and sat deeper into the seat, awaiting news of their unfortunate excuse for a comrade.
Vincent lay in the hospital bed, various smiley face stickers stuck to his forehead and clowns painted on the walls to 'cheer' up the unfortunate patients who happened to land in the rooms managed by one pleasantly happy Dr. Hojo.
The mad scientist turned creepy general practitioner strode into the room, whistling like the mad man he was, x-rays in hand and scalpel ready to stab.
"Wonderful news!"
Vincent sat up in bed in a hurry, immediately shouting in pain and clutching his stomach.
"I'm not dying? That's fantastic!"
Hojo blinked.
"I wasn't talking about you. You'll be dead by tomorrow. I finally got that dead mouse air freshener I sent for."
The stoic Turk paled and exchanged a look the madman. There was something unsettling about a doctor who preferred the scent of long dead mouse over pine and having 'fun' loving clowns on the walls of what was supposed to be a hospital wing.
"What in the hell do you mean I'll be dead by morning!"
Hojo placed the x-rays up on the backlit screen and rubbed his hands together in glee.
Vincent withdrew a pair of reading glasses from the pocket of his suit and put them on, staring at the x-ray, not amused.
"I don't see anything."
Hojo brandished the scalpel threateningly
"Idiot! You fail to see how wonderful this advance in science is."
"You just told me I'll be dead by morning! How can this be a good thing?"
"You have the first documented case of Sandwichitus there has ever been."
"Sandwichitus?" The stoic Turk raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I'm going to die because I ate a sandwich."
"Not, quite the oppositeā¦"
Hojo rubbed his hands together in glee. That Evil Science Fair Trophy was going to be his this year. The judges would merely laugh at Hollander's automatic windshield wiper pancake flipper robot puppy pencil sharpener. And he had Vincent Valentine to thank for it.
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Coming up on One Hundred Tiny Missions:
Tseng gets the golden ticket of a lifetime, but at what cost?
Until we meet again,
SageQuill : )
