Ha ha! You thought that first little thing there was all you had to worry about, eh? Well think again, you pansyass. Prepare to be subjected to the literary equivalent of being raped in the ear. Review or suffer my wrath of…not…posting…another chapter. I don't see how this is a bad thing, but I'm threatening you anyway!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters, but I don't own the clothes I'm wearing now, either. So not owning Gundam Wing may be the greatest non-achievment of my life! Woo hoo! Suck my ass, Gen Fukunaga! God, I wish I had a good excuse like I was drunk or something when I wrote this, but sadly…No.
P.S. Due to laziness and Satanic possession, I will now be doing this in script format.
P.P.S. "*^*" indicates the beginning and end of what are supposed to be italics. I have not clue how to make them, so that will suffice for now. Any help you could offer would be helpful. Duh, you moron.
*^*(the scene before us shows Lady Une approaching Treize Khushrenada's desk with a smart salute)*^*
Lady Une: Your Excellency, what is your plan of action against the Alliance?
Treize: Continue to win battles.
Une: Excellent plan, sir! Shall we continue to blow stuff up as well?
Treize: Yes. You are a strategic genius, Lady Une. That's why you are of such high rank, even though that you seem to fail horribly on every one of your missions.
Une: Thank you, sir!
Treize: Lady Une, you may dispense with the formalities. I want you so damn bad.
Une: Yes..sir…
*^*(Zechs Merquise is lying on a medical pallet in a makeshift tent, recovering from his heart attack, apparently from giggling excessively while handling the Tallgeese)*^*
Zechs: Ungh. The Tallgeese is too powerful for me. I am such a coward.
Noin: No! Zechs! Don't think about leaving! You must rest!
Zechs: …I didn't say anything.
Noin: Oh, right.
Zechs: Now let us discuss top secret tactical information in this flimsy medical tent where anybody within a fifty foot radius can easily eavesdrop.
Noin: Alright, so what should we do about these Gundams?
Zechs: The Gundams are very strong. I am amazed that the colonies could produce something of such power. Of course, they're not as powerful as the Tallgeese.
Noin: ...The Tallgeese is 20 years old. That technology has been long outdated.
Zechs: (not paying attention) Yes, the Tallgeese has far surpassed any other mobile suit created.
Noin: But…You can't dispute the fact that the Gundams are more technologically advanced in every possible way compared to the Tallgeese.
Zechs: But the Tallgeese is a prototype. And mobile suits are mass-produced, while the Tallgeese was crafted with care.
Noin: Er, the Gundams aren't mass-produced either.
Zechs: Yes, I know how you feel. The Tallgeese never ceases to amaze me, either.
Noin: (she sighs in exasperation, giving up) Of course, sir.
Zechs: Now I must leave. To…become one…with…the Tallgeese!
Noin: Whatever.
*^*(the scene switches yet again to witness Relena's pink limousine pull up, and the aforementioned girl steps out, jogging up to her beloved Heero, who is hanging around Duo and yet still managing to appear antisocial)*^*
Relena: Heero! There you are!
Duo: Hey, you sexy bitch. Wanna come over to my place sometime?
Relena: (doesn't pay attention to him) Heero! Kill me!
Heero: Christ…Stop following me around. And stop leaving those messages on my answering machine.
Relena: But I love you, Heero!
Heero: Oh, and stop mailing dead kittens to me.
Duo: C'mon, you foxy thing. Let's go do the beast with two backs. Whaddya say?
Relena: Heeeeeeerooooo! Why won't you kill me? (she gets a deranged look in her eyes) If you don't, I might get upset. (suddenly, out of nowhere, she pulls out a handgun, firing it at Heero who is two feet away, and completely misses)
Heero: (he shakes his head and walks off, only pausing briefly to put a few bullets through Relena's infernal pink limousine [who the hell has a pink limousine, anyway?])
Duo: I'm fucking Shinigami! All women are supposed to find me strangely irresistible! (he runs off, crying like a little schoolgirl)
*^*(we see Heero sitting in front of his laptop yet again, typing speedily)*^*
Heero: Hmm. I really should look into getting a chair or something. Oh well. (he continues to type away, humming softly to himself, until a light beeping noise from the speakers interrupts him, indicating he has top secret mail. He presses random buttons in rapid succession, pretending that he's typing in some sort of code or whatever. Instructions for a new mission pop up on screen.)
Heero: It says here my mission is to…what? A reconnaissance mission where I am required to…flaunt…my identity? This is absurd. But oh well. Here are the coordinates. I really should stop talking to myself like this. (he shrugs and heads off to school after printing out the coordinates, where he apparently spends the entire time outside, being that there seems to be no actual academic classes)
*^*(Heero leans against the fence, glancing at his classmates with muted superiority, looking very James Dean-esque)*^*
Duo: (he saunters up, joining Heero in his fence-leaning) Hey, Heero. Notice how I roll the "r", as if we were actually speaking in Japanese. Cool, huh?
Heero: …
Duo: (he frowns in puzzlement) How is that a verbal expression? I don't know how you do that…
Heero: Like this. …!…//;]'…
Duo: You have some talent, man. (he shakes his head)
Heero: …
Duo: Hey…You haven't said one cliché thing this entire fic! Not once have you said "Hn," or "Omae o korosu," man. Give the people what they want.
Heero: You know…You're right for once, Maxwell.
Duo: (Duo beams proudly) Well, I am a god, after all.
Heero: H.
Duo: What?
Heero: H. (Heero's mouth twist and his brow wrinkles in concentration as he forms the sound very deliberately) H. (he gasps) I can't…I can't say "H".
Duo: You mean "Hn"?
Heero: Yes! I…can't say it!
Duo: Well this is bad. Look, we don't have time to worry about that. Don't you need to go off on some secret mission and attempt to self-destruct until I come in and save your ass, like I do every week?
Heero: You're right. (he nods, raising his voice so everyone can hear as he "casually" talks to himself) Well, I'm off to…(he pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, peering at it) Osaka Convention Center now. Nobody try to follow me, or I'll have to kill them!
*^*(across the street, a bush rustles slightly as a tiny pair of binoculars peeps out)*^*
Relena: Yes! This is my perfect chance! Eh heh heh…
*^*(the camera cuts to an aerial view of a large building, the Osaka Convention Center, where today's riveting drama will unfold. The building looks slightly ominous yet full of light, thus indicating that this is an important place.)*^*
Duo: (he steps out of a car, skipping over to the convention center's main entrance) Thanks for the ride, Hee-chan! (he giggles, muttering about Chinese men and large servings of Cool Whip)
Heero: Whatever. I wouldn't have given you the lift if I hadn't secretly admired your courage and lightheartedness. As well as your tight ass. (Duo looks at him, gaping, and a confused expression crawls over Heero's face) …Did I say that? Damn you, producers! Can't you give us any internal dialogue?
Duo: You forgot to mention how you subconsciously find my overdone zaniness a turn on. I'm a cold-blooded killer, and I still manage to get portrayed as the wacky one in these fics.
Heero: Shut up. We're here.
*^*In the outer reaches of outer space, Quatre admires outer space's spacy beauty.*^*
Quatre: Gosh, Rashid. It sure is nice to be able to spend time in outer space. Outer space is so calm and quiet. One can't help but love outer space or love spending time in outer space. I wish more people who have not been to outer space could feel what it's like to be out in outer space, but I guess these outer space-ignorant people will never learn the beauty of-
Rashid: For the love of God, shut up!
Quatre: Sorry, it's just my space heart rambling again, I suppose.
*^*Because the author does not feel like chronicling precisely what kooky things Wufei or the One-Banged Wonder are saying right now, the author would like to get this out of the way. For the reader's information, right now they are in Russia, working in a steel factory to make really, really tiny little instruments to dissect really small insects and such. The author can assure the reader that this is fairly menial work and does not demand much attention for the moment, though it may develop into a key plot point at a later time. Or not.*^*
*^*(back to Heero and Duo, now inside the "base of operations")*^*
Duo: Wh-what is this place?
Heero: I've never seen anything like it.
Duo: This is…obscene.
(the camera pans wide to display the crowd of gathered otaku, most dressed as their favorite anime character. There are a lot of homemade sailor outfits, Ryoko hairstyles, Ohtori Academy uniforms, and tentacle monsters about, mingling with fellow geeks, savoring the unity of dorkiness. After several moments, a troupe of girls in some odd junior high school uniform, hair a la Miaka, step up, squealing)
Girl Number 1: Oooh! What a kawaii costume! Where'd you find that Duo Maxwell braid?! It's adorable!
Girl Number 2: Who needs Duo? Look at this awesome Hee-chan disguise! Ooh! (she grabs Heero's arm, feeling his biceps, unaware of the rage clouding Heero's eyes)
Heero: (he grasps for his gun, which tumbles from Hammerspace. While the window between universes is briefly expose, Duo gives a gleeful cackle and reaches inside, rooting around with his hand. After several bell noises, some cranking sounds, a lady screaming, and the distinct meowing of a violated cat, he draws out a large bag of grade-A, hydro-dynamic, pasteurized, laser-cut lollipops. Heero ignores this and caulks the gun, aiming) Omae o ko-Omae o koro-Omae o-Oh, fuck it! (he frowns and unceremoniously shoots the girl. The other succubi hiss and scamper off, leaving the body of their fallen comrade to the oogling eyes of the slobbering, hormone-driven, acne-ridden 32 year olds attending.)
*^*What will happen on the next installment of this gripping epic? Who will die? Who is the father of Duo's illegitimate lovechild? I sure as hell don't know. Either way, review and be rewarded with another sack of this mind-numbing crap I like to call a fanfiction. All the cool kids are doing it.*^*
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters, but I don't own the clothes I'm wearing now, either. So not owning Gundam Wing may be the greatest non-achievment of my life! Woo hoo! Suck my ass, Gen Fukunaga! God, I wish I had a good excuse like I was drunk or something when I wrote this, but sadly…No.
P.S. Due to laziness and Satanic possession, I will now be doing this in script format.
P.P.S. "*^*" indicates the beginning and end of what are supposed to be italics. I have not clue how to make them, so that will suffice for now. Any help you could offer would be helpful. Duh, you moron.
*^*(the scene before us shows Lady Une approaching Treize Khushrenada's desk with a smart salute)*^*
Lady Une: Your Excellency, what is your plan of action against the Alliance?
Treize: Continue to win battles.
Une: Excellent plan, sir! Shall we continue to blow stuff up as well?
Treize: Yes. You are a strategic genius, Lady Une. That's why you are of such high rank, even though that you seem to fail horribly on every one of your missions.
Une: Thank you, sir!
Treize: Lady Une, you may dispense with the formalities. I want you so damn bad.
Une: Yes..sir…
*^*(Zechs Merquise is lying on a medical pallet in a makeshift tent, recovering from his heart attack, apparently from giggling excessively while handling the Tallgeese)*^*
Zechs: Ungh. The Tallgeese is too powerful for me. I am such a coward.
Noin: No! Zechs! Don't think about leaving! You must rest!
Zechs: …I didn't say anything.
Noin: Oh, right.
Zechs: Now let us discuss top secret tactical information in this flimsy medical tent where anybody within a fifty foot radius can easily eavesdrop.
Noin: Alright, so what should we do about these Gundams?
Zechs: The Gundams are very strong. I am amazed that the colonies could produce something of such power. Of course, they're not as powerful as the Tallgeese.
Noin: ...The Tallgeese is 20 years old. That technology has been long outdated.
Zechs: (not paying attention) Yes, the Tallgeese has far surpassed any other mobile suit created.
Noin: But…You can't dispute the fact that the Gundams are more technologically advanced in every possible way compared to the Tallgeese.
Zechs: But the Tallgeese is a prototype. And mobile suits are mass-produced, while the Tallgeese was crafted with care.
Noin: Er, the Gundams aren't mass-produced either.
Zechs: Yes, I know how you feel. The Tallgeese never ceases to amaze me, either.
Noin: (she sighs in exasperation, giving up) Of course, sir.
Zechs: Now I must leave. To…become one…with…the Tallgeese!
Noin: Whatever.
*^*(the scene switches yet again to witness Relena's pink limousine pull up, and the aforementioned girl steps out, jogging up to her beloved Heero, who is hanging around Duo and yet still managing to appear antisocial)*^*
Relena: Heero! There you are!
Duo: Hey, you sexy bitch. Wanna come over to my place sometime?
Relena: (doesn't pay attention to him) Heero! Kill me!
Heero: Christ…Stop following me around. And stop leaving those messages on my answering machine.
Relena: But I love you, Heero!
Heero: Oh, and stop mailing dead kittens to me.
Duo: C'mon, you foxy thing. Let's go do the beast with two backs. Whaddya say?
Relena: Heeeeeeerooooo! Why won't you kill me? (she gets a deranged look in her eyes) If you don't, I might get upset. (suddenly, out of nowhere, she pulls out a handgun, firing it at Heero who is two feet away, and completely misses)
Heero: (he shakes his head and walks off, only pausing briefly to put a few bullets through Relena's infernal pink limousine [who the hell has a pink limousine, anyway?])
Duo: I'm fucking Shinigami! All women are supposed to find me strangely irresistible! (he runs off, crying like a little schoolgirl)
*^*(we see Heero sitting in front of his laptop yet again, typing speedily)*^*
Heero: Hmm. I really should look into getting a chair or something. Oh well. (he continues to type away, humming softly to himself, until a light beeping noise from the speakers interrupts him, indicating he has top secret mail. He presses random buttons in rapid succession, pretending that he's typing in some sort of code or whatever. Instructions for a new mission pop up on screen.)
Heero: It says here my mission is to…what? A reconnaissance mission where I am required to…flaunt…my identity? This is absurd. But oh well. Here are the coordinates. I really should stop talking to myself like this. (he shrugs and heads off to school after printing out the coordinates, where he apparently spends the entire time outside, being that there seems to be no actual academic classes)
*^*(Heero leans against the fence, glancing at his classmates with muted superiority, looking very James Dean-esque)*^*
Duo: (he saunters up, joining Heero in his fence-leaning) Hey, Heero. Notice how I roll the "r", as if we were actually speaking in Japanese. Cool, huh?
Heero: …
Duo: (he frowns in puzzlement) How is that a verbal expression? I don't know how you do that…
Heero: Like this. …!…//;]'…
Duo: You have some talent, man. (he shakes his head)
Heero: …
Duo: Hey…You haven't said one cliché thing this entire fic! Not once have you said "Hn," or "Omae o korosu," man. Give the people what they want.
Heero: You know…You're right for once, Maxwell.
Duo: (Duo beams proudly) Well, I am a god, after all.
Heero: H.
Duo: What?
Heero: H. (Heero's mouth twist and his brow wrinkles in concentration as he forms the sound very deliberately) H. (he gasps) I can't…I can't say "H".
Duo: You mean "Hn"?
Heero: Yes! I…can't say it!
Duo: Well this is bad. Look, we don't have time to worry about that. Don't you need to go off on some secret mission and attempt to self-destruct until I come in and save your ass, like I do every week?
Heero: You're right. (he nods, raising his voice so everyone can hear as he "casually" talks to himself) Well, I'm off to…(he pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, peering at it) Osaka Convention Center now. Nobody try to follow me, or I'll have to kill them!
*^*(across the street, a bush rustles slightly as a tiny pair of binoculars peeps out)*^*
Relena: Yes! This is my perfect chance! Eh heh heh…
*^*(the camera cuts to an aerial view of a large building, the Osaka Convention Center, where today's riveting drama will unfold. The building looks slightly ominous yet full of light, thus indicating that this is an important place.)*^*
Duo: (he steps out of a car, skipping over to the convention center's main entrance) Thanks for the ride, Hee-chan! (he giggles, muttering about Chinese men and large servings of Cool Whip)
Heero: Whatever. I wouldn't have given you the lift if I hadn't secretly admired your courage and lightheartedness. As well as your tight ass. (Duo looks at him, gaping, and a confused expression crawls over Heero's face) …Did I say that? Damn you, producers! Can't you give us any internal dialogue?
Duo: You forgot to mention how you subconsciously find my overdone zaniness a turn on. I'm a cold-blooded killer, and I still manage to get portrayed as the wacky one in these fics.
Heero: Shut up. We're here.
*^*In the outer reaches of outer space, Quatre admires outer space's spacy beauty.*^*
Quatre: Gosh, Rashid. It sure is nice to be able to spend time in outer space. Outer space is so calm and quiet. One can't help but love outer space or love spending time in outer space. I wish more people who have not been to outer space could feel what it's like to be out in outer space, but I guess these outer space-ignorant people will never learn the beauty of-
Rashid: For the love of God, shut up!
Quatre: Sorry, it's just my space heart rambling again, I suppose.
*^*Because the author does not feel like chronicling precisely what kooky things Wufei or the One-Banged Wonder are saying right now, the author would like to get this out of the way. For the reader's information, right now they are in Russia, working in a steel factory to make really, really tiny little instruments to dissect really small insects and such. The author can assure the reader that this is fairly menial work and does not demand much attention for the moment, though it may develop into a key plot point at a later time. Or not.*^*
*^*(back to Heero and Duo, now inside the "base of operations")*^*
Duo: Wh-what is this place?
Heero: I've never seen anything like it.
Duo: This is…obscene.
(the camera pans wide to display the crowd of gathered otaku, most dressed as their favorite anime character. There are a lot of homemade sailor outfits, Ryoko hairstyles, Ohtori Academy uniforms, and tentacle monsters about, mingling with fellow geeks, savoring the unity of dorkiness. After several moments, a troupe of girls in some odd junior high school uniform, hair a la Miaka, step up, squealing)
Girl Number 1: Oooh! What a kawaii costume! Where'd you find that Duo Maxwell braid?! It's adorable!
Girl Number 2: Who needs Duo? Look at this awesome Hee-chan disguise! Ooh! (she grabs Heero's arm, feeling his biceps, unaware of the rage clouding Heero's eyes)
Heero: (he grasps for his gun, which tumbles from Hammerspace. While the window between universes is briefly expose, Duo gives a gleeful cackle and reaches inside, rooting around with his hand. After several bell noises, some cranking sounds, a lady screaming, and the distinct meowing of a violated cat, he draws out a large bag of grade-A, hydro-dynamic, pasteurized, laser-cut lollipops. Heero ignores this and caulks the gun, aiming) Omae o ko-Omae o koro-Omae o-Oh, fuck it! (he frowns and unceremoniously shoots the girl. The other succubi hiss and scamper off, leaving the body of their fallen comrade to the oogling eyes of the slobbering, hormone-driven, acne-ridden 32 year olds attending.)
*^*What will happen on the next installment of this gripping epic? Who will die? Who is the father of Duo's illegitimate lovechild? I sure as hell don't know. Either way, review and be rewarded with another sack of this mind-numbing crap I like to call a fanfiction. All the cool kids are doing it.*^*