The five Gundam boys regarded the box sitting peacefully on their coffee table with stony stares.
"What do we do with it?" Quatre inquired politely.
"We wait." Trowa answered.
"Hn." Heero affirmed.
"Well, then, if we're just waiting, I'm going to go have some tea." Quatre disappeared into the kitchen, and the sounds of water boiling were heard in the quiet house. A clock on the wall behind them ticked off the second in an annoyingly loud voice, tick tock tick tock…
The doorbell rang, and the four pilots, just being to relax in the 'games' room, jumped, their favorite weapons appearing in hand. Quatre came running out of the kitchen waving a large steak knife.
"AHH!" Duo leapt behind the couch, hiding from the sight of Quatre's gleaming knife, the muzzle of his bazooka gun poking out over the back of the couch.
Quatre looked down, turned bright red, and scrambled back into the kitchen.
Heero looked at Wufei.
Wufei looked at Trowa.
Trowa looked at Heero,
Heero answered the door.
An inexperienced, and quite puzzled young man stood there, his finger hovering over the doorbell, preparing himself to ring it again.
He lost all courage when a shining black gun complete with silencer magically pointed itself at his head.
"Omoe o norosu." The boy holding the gun stated flatly.
The mailman, on the first round of his first day, had not yet learned any Japanese, and had no idea what Heero had just said. However, the gun helpfully translated.
"Wa…wait!" he cried, throwing both hands up. "It's my job!"
"What's your job?" another, strangely braided boy said, bouncing up to the first, gun-holding one and throwing an arm around his shoulders. The gun swerved to face the braided boy.
"Omoe o korosu." The first repeated.
The mailman started slowly backing away.
"Hey, man, put that thing down!" the braided one protested, shooting innocent looks the mailman's way.
He ignored the appealing looks. He had a sinking suspicion that if he got involved, then the gun would be aiming at him again, and if that happened, then the end of his career was almost guaranteed. Still slowly backing away, he noticed with relief that he was nearly to his little anorexic bicycle.
"Hello." A voice behind him said.
The mailman almost died of shock when Trowa silently moved next to him.
"What did you come here to accomplish?" Trowa's bewitchingly soft voice asked.
"Uh…I'm just a mailman…my first day and all…package…first day…quit…cigarette…" the poor man disintegrated in meaningless words.
Trowa gently removed the simple brown package from the other's shaking hands.
"Don't worry," he murmured, "my friends won't hurt you. Who is sending this package?"
"Uh…don't know…no name…"
"How did you find our 'home'?"
Trowa's soft manner and calm air were relaxing the man to the point where he could speak legibly again.
"Uh, the package came with directions."
"Ah. Well, thank you, and I hope my friends did not frighten you too much."
"No, no, not at all." The mailman lied, and hopped on his bicycle, pedaling away as fast as he could.
Trowa left Heero and Duo still arguing outside, and set the package down on the coffee table with the utmost care. Wufei removed the box that had been the object of their mission, the 'Nintendo 64', and locked it in a safe—just in case.
"Now what?" They both eyed the package. It was harmless enough in appearance, a rectangular box wrapped in ordinary brown paper and tied with a length of tan string.
"I think we need Heero." Wufei decided.
"I agree." Trowa leaned backward and Wufei headed out the door. "Quatre, we are going to open this thing in a moment. You might want to be there."
"Of course!" Quatre called back.
Wufei returned dragging Duo by his braid, with Heero close behind, just as Quatre emerged from the kitchen with a tray upon which were set five cups and a teapot.
"Who's going to open it?" He asked, setting the tray down on a nearby table and pouring himself some fragrant tea.
No one answered.
Quatre looked at Trowa.
Trowa looked at Wufei.
Wufei looked at Duo.
Duo looked at Heero.
Heero refused to open the box.
The gundam boys, with the exception of Heero, were all completely shocked. Quatre fainted clean away as Trowa said in a stunned voice, "He refused to do it…"
Heero crossed his arms and smirked, a tiny hidden smirk.
"The look thing has always worked before!" Duo cried. "How could it fail?"
They all sat in silence for a moment. Quatre, revived, sipped his tea.
With a sigh, Wufei leaned forward and cut through the string and paper with the tip of his katana.
The boys all drew back with a collective holding of breath.
The paper gently fell away to reveal a white box.
The boys all let out their collective breaths.
"It didn't explode," Duo sighed in relief, "But now what?"
They looked at each other, but before anyone could move, the box did. It rocked lightly from side to side, and then the top broke.
The boys screamed, with the exception of Heero, who whipped out a gun. All attention immediately focused on him.
Duo grabbed it, all, with a quick, "That could be instructions, man!"
"Correct." A clean, metallic voice said, slicing through all the arguing.
The five boys dropped whatever they held, and stared.
Instead of the ordinary closed box, they were faced with a flat, two-sided screen that had unfolded from within the box. Words were flashing on both sides of its surface, and the metallic voice repeated whatever the screen showed.
"What…what is that?" Quatre asked, gripping the side of the couch for support.
"I am a electronic monitor, connected to the scientists through satellite transmissions."
"Oh."
"Now, if you boys would stop fooling around, I will give you the mission details."
Dead silence met its words.
"Very good." The voice said approvingly. "To the pilots of the Gundam Mobile Suits; Wing Zero, Deathscythe, Heavyarms, Sandrock and Shenlong.
From: the five scientists.
Your mission has gone well so far, but we are disappointed to note that you failed to locate and retrieve either the six controllers instructed, or the 'Mario Kart 64' cartridge. These materials are crucial to your mission. Get them. Now.
Further instructions will follow once you have completed this mission.
This screen with self-destruct in 10 seconds.
P.S. We found the picture of Duo especially amusing. That is all."
Duo blushed.
"Now," the voice continued, losing the bold and businesslike quality it had held a second before, "I suggest you get out of the way."
Mad scrambling ensued as the gundam boys tried to get out of the way.
"10…9…8…6…5…4…" Trowa tripped over Quatre as they both attempted to fit through the doorway. "3…2…" Wufei said still through it all, a little smirk crossing his face."1!"
Wufei was all alone, his only company the screen and a few upset papers that were still floating in the air, tossed up by the movements of the gundam pilots.
"Wufei," the screen said, "You saw through my ploy."
"Yes." He said simply.
"How did you know?"
"You skipped the number seven." Wufei pointed out triumphantly.
The screen reflected for a minute. "Ah," it admitted, "so I did. No matter. I was hoping you would stay so that I could congradulate you on your excellent plan yesterday."
"Thank you." He bowed.
"Did you have the entire embarrassment of Duo all planned out from the beginning?" The scientists, via the screen, inquired.
"Yes."
"That was clever," it said admiringly. "How did you know it would work."
"Well," Wufei said proudly, not bothering with weak concepts such as modesty, "I knew Heero would give the orders, and I knew he would rule out Quatre for his temperament, Trowa for his stony silence, and himself because he is the 'Perfect Soldier' and would want to stand guard. That left me and Duo, and I was able to get Duo to look that…humiliating."
"Very good." The screen said. "We thoroughly enjoyed the picture he made. Well, you'd better be going, or else the others will complete the mission without you."
"I suppose." Wufei said, not moving.
"I'm going to explode now."
"I believe you."
"I am, really."
"Uh huh. Whatever you say."
"10…9…8…7…6…" Wufei sat still, smirking, and staring at the screen. He knew better. It wouldn't make him run like a frightened child. That would be weak. "5…4…I'm serious Wufei…"
"Sure."
"3…2…"
Wufei started to get a little nervous. It hadn't skipped any numbers yet. Ah, but he was too clever for it, he knew it would skip number one.
"1!"
The screen exploded in a shower of whipped cream and strawberry jelly, spattering all over the stunned pilot.
"INJUSTICE!"
