Three Cheers for Fanservice

Three Cheers for Fanservice

Part Four: The Death of a Salesmen… okay, so it's a businessman…

Asuka Langley-Soryu was pissed off.

"Damn that Shinji!" she swore profusely. "I'll kill him and his stupid hentai friends!"

"Hai!" agreed Rei. This is wildly OOC for her. "That Kensuke is totally perverted!"

As long as we're along the lines of OOC, let's throw in some other characters!

"I love you all!" cried Heero Yuy, who then started crying.

"You fucking idiot, I'll kill you!" screamed Quatre Raberba Winner in a rather bloodthirsty voice.

"Women should fight! They are not weak!" proclaimed Wufei.

Duo said… nothing.

"Gyaaaahhhh!" shrieked thousands of Gundam Wing fans world wide, then ran for their lives. The author promptly followed suit. Trowa Barton glared at the author and cried, "You madwoman! What have you done?" Gundam Wing crumbled and died. The world blew up. It's all dead now.

* * * * *

*All right,* said the author. *What should I write about? I have a loss of inspiration.*

"Perhaps we should bring Norbert and his football players back in," suggested a clean-cut advisor person, lifting a pencil into the air thoughtfully.

The author and her advisors were gathered around a large gleaming wooden table, on the top floor of a large business building labeled, 'Anime Works Inc.'

"That would be repetitive," pointed out another advisor.

"But it's the plot." Argued the first advisor.

*This fanfic has no plot!* exclaimed a short sixteen-year-old girl with long brown hair and greenish eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the second advisor blankly.

*I'm the author,* the author yelled, becoming extremely pissed off. *You're going to have to die now.* She pressed a red button on a panel in the table in front of her, and the second advisor's chair tilted back and dumped him into a pit of flames. His screams continued for a few moments, and the author smiled satisfactorily as they abated. *Now then,* she said pleasantly. *Where were we?*

"This is copying Austin Powers," warned a skinless black cat that jumped up on the table.

*Mr. Wigglesworth!* exclaimed the author absently. *How dare you accuse me of such things!* She picked up the black cat and left the meeting room.

As soon as she had left the room, the eight remaining advisors began to talk amongst themselves.

"The author is only sixteen years old?" asked one. "How can that be?"

*Easy, you moron!* boomed the author, who had magically appeared back in her chair. *You forgot that I'm omnipotent in my stories. Now begone!*

The advisor abruptly disappeared.

*Now, does anybody else have any suggestions?* the author asked pleasantly once more.

One advisor cleared his throat. "Um, perhaps we should look at the clue we placed in Part Three," he said nervously.

*Why, that's a brilliant idea!* the author exclaimed brightly. The advisors relaxed now that she was in a good mood again. *Let's see,* she peered closely at a piece of paper that had materialized in front of her. *Uh-huh… uh-huh…Okay!* she said in the manner of fake movie telephone conversations. She straightened and snapped her fingers. *Scene change!*

* * * * *

Al Gore appeared on a small outdoor stage in the middle of Wisconsin, doing a rather stiff and uncoordinated hokey-pokey.

"You put some Gore votes in, you take some Bush votes out, you put some Gore votes in, and you punch Buchanan out," he sang in a monotonous voice that could hardly be called singing. "You do the hokey-pokey and you turn the count around, that's what it's all about!" He clumsily turned around and waved his hands in the air.

Peter Simmons, attracted by the bad dancing and even worse singing, got up on the stage and started ballroom dancing with Al. Al looked positively delighted, and gave Peter a big, wet, sloppy kiss.

"Ewwwwww," said the audience, as well as many politicians.

"Gross," noted Usagi. "What the hell is he doing?"

"I don't wanna see that," Makoto said in a singsong voice.

Al Gore suddenly realized who he had kissed.

*Oh, no, I'm going to be sued off my ass for this one,* muttered the author. *It doesn't even make any sense… Scene change!*

* * * * *

A young boy about seventeen years old with black hair and blue eyes walked onto the suddenly empty stage. Clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, he pushed the bridge of his gold glasses up his nose.

"Uh, I'd just like to say that Sailor Moon sucks, and DBZ kicks ass." He announced.

"I don't think so!" cried Rei and leapt up from her chair. The Senshi – dehenshined, mind you – were still in the audience. Being the most fiery of the Senshi, she was very outspoken. My God, that pun sucked.

"What? Vegeta could kick your ass!" DBZ-Boy thundered.

"Ha!" retorted Rei. "He's just a dumb-as-a-rock muscle fattie! All brawn and no brain."

DBZ-Boy turned a rather alarming shade of red.

"What's more," Rei continued, "He could never stand up to my fiery soul!"

The author cringed, as that pun sucked even more than the first one.

"Vegeta could whip you in Superinsert some sort of power-up henshin thingey for DBZ here Mode without breaking a sweat!" DBZ-Boy shrieked in rage.

Rei pointed a finger up in the air and leveled it at DBZ-Boy.

The other Senshi in their seats gasped.

DBZ-Boy ha no idea what in hell Rei was doing.

"But Rei, you have to be henshined!" protested Hotaru, while taking a swig of Setsuna's Vodka.

"Oh, that's right, Hotaru-chan." Exclaimed Rei. "Mars Star Power!"

Dancing scene ensued… you know the drill... fire stuff, flashes of fanservice, and Rei was transformed into… Sailor Mars! Woo! Norbert screeched happily and many fanboys were happy again.

Then she leveled her finger at DBZ-Boy once more, who was still as confused as ever. The Senshi gave a collective gasp again.

"I dare you to tell me that Vegeta could kick my ass!" Thundered Sailor Mars.

"Vegeta could kick your ass!" DBZ-Boy said.

"Fire… SOUL!" shrieked Sailor Mars on an impossibly high pitch.

"Gyaah!" yelled DBZ-Boy as he leapt out of the way of Sailor Mars' beam of intense fire.

"Hehehe," cackled Sailor Mars evilly.

"Noo! Don't hurt me!" whimpered DBZ-Boy. Sailor Mars suddenly looked thoughtful. "Pleeaase?" he begged.

"Say, 'Bihoujo Senshi Sailor Moon is the best, and Dragon BallZ sucks!" Sailor Mars demanded.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon is the best, and DBZ sucks!" DBZ-Boy said, almost crying.

"Again!" demanded Sailor Mars. This elicited yet another collective gasp from the Senshi.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon is the best, and Dragon BallZ sucks!" DBZ-Boy said, bursting into tears as Shoujo Power wore away his pitiful shounen exterior.

"Ahahahahahaha!" roared Sailor Mars in classical maniacal laughter, sound like the evil dubbed Queen Beryl. Oh, yes. Fearsome. "Bwahahahahaha!! Bwahahahahaha!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

* * * * *

"Hey. Wake up."

*BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!*

"Shit, dude! You scared the crap out of me! Wake up!" Hatchet-baka said.

*Eh?* the author asked.

"Dude, you fell asleep. Then you yelled, 'Fire Soul!' and started laughing like some crazy dubbed Queen Beryl." Hentai-chan said, frowning at the disoriented author. Said author noticed the advisors staring at her fearfully from their places around the table. She scowled at them.

*Baaaah, get out of my sight, vermin!* she howled at the frightened advisors, who turned tail and fled for their lives. *What a pity, too.* she said sadly. *I was having the best dream.*

"What about?" asked Hatchet-baka, who has a real name, but I'm not going to use it, because the author has a crush on him, and he's a dumb crackhead.

*I was laughing because Hatchet-baka said BSSM rocked,* explained the author, *He said it 'cause I shot Fire Soul at him.*

"Huh? What? Who?" asked Hatchet-baka, thoroughly confused.

"Cool." Said Hentai-chan.

*BAKA YARO!* screeched the author and flung a machete at Hatchet-baka.

* * * * *

That probably made no sense. You probably don't care. In fact, you're probably not even reading this, since you got bored a long time ago and don't care anymore. And if you are, well, the next part's even worse. Fear me. Oh yes. Bwahahaha!!

Happy Hints:

Vladimir Putin joins us for some fun.

Somebody gets possessed by that dead librarian I knocked off a couple of chapters ago, or something.

Public Libraries are evil, haunted places.

Auhtor's Note: Daitryk – I hope the title makes a little bit more sense eventually… 3C4FS is supposed to be about Norbert and trying to get more fanservice, but it… deviates a bit, doesn't it? Thanks! ^-^''