Running The Place
Epilouge
By BakaDaz
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters are copyright to Bandai, Sunrise, Sotsu, and prolly everyone else but me. Original characters are made by me...yep.
I want to thank everyone for reviewing! I'm glad you all like the story. Well, I just thought I should give the story an ending ending, aka, an Epilouge (the ending of the ending) This is going to be quite short, so...
One week later...
A butler walked down the long hallways of the nice and shiny floors of the mansion. He came to a door near the end of the hall and knocked politely. A sharp "What?" was heard and he took that as a sign to enter. Taking his gloved hand, he reached the doorknob and opened the door.
Inside sat Mr. Benford, a small television to his left, and a notice in front of him to which he was reading. He looked up sharply as the door opened, and he frowned more with just seeing a butler standing there.
"What is it?" he asked in a rather irritated voice.
The butler stood nice and straight, he knew his presence was important. He cleared his throat and held up a flat package. "Package came for you, sir. I wanted to deliver it to you personally."
Mr. Benford's eyes fell on his desk. "Set it there, I'll look at it later."
"Sir," the old man acknowledged as he sat the item on to his desk and left, with a quick bow.
Mr. Benford's eyes fell onto the package. Curiosity getting the better of him, he picked it up and observed it. The return address was written so light, he could barely see it. He didn't know how those mailmen could read it. He opened his desk and found an envelope opener. Closing the drawer, he turned the package around and slid it under the fold. Dragging it down the line he opened it up. Setting the envelope down on his desk, he reached his hand in and pulled out a thin packet.
His eyebrow rose, wondering what this was all about. On the cover of the packet was written 'To Mr. Benford, you need to be lead in the right direction'.
He would have laughed, but didn't feel like it. He just had an amused look on his face as he flipped it open. Some low classed animal whining about something or other, most likely. He looked at the first page and his smile faded.
'Dear Mr. Benford,
I do hope that you were not offended too much that day [insert week] that you accommodated in my home. My friends and I were trying to give you a first hand perspective at what those people under your rank are like. They are not bad people Mr. Benford. These people are kind and good-hearted -- well, some of the deep down inside, but they are.
There's no reason to hate those just because of their lack of wealth. I have come to terms with the poorest of people sometimes, and I think I'd still rather spend a day with them than with any rich people that think of themselves as a sultan-- I mean king.
I do not wish to lecture you, Mr. Benford, but merely proove you wrong. It is incorrect to look down on one; that is not what mankind was made for.
Sincerely,
Quatre R. Winner'
Mr. Benford shook his head. It was Quatre who was wrong, not himself. If you give a poor person too much pride, who knows what they may do? Society isn't run on people who have to wash their own belongings and work so hard and long (gee, I'm getting sick as I write this).
But Mr. Benford was willing to go along with Quatre's idea. He turned the page and saw a listing of names. It was like in a telephone book, except there was nothing there but names lined up on the left, and the word either 'Living' or 'Deceased' in a column on the right.
There were 5 pages of this, Mr. Benford noticed as he skimmed through the pages. And not one person whom he knew. When he came to the 6th and final page of the packet, there was another letter to him from Quatre.
'Mr. Benford,
I'm sure by now you have noticed that you know none of these people. Well, that is because they are not of your social status, and you do not care to know anyone below yours. One day after you left, my friends and I gathered all of these names to put on these pages. Do you know why?
This is a short list of only some of the people who fought in the war. The war, Mr. Benford. They risked their lives, for whatever reason it was, they were fighting for it. I'm not sure if many people could stand up and do that--but these people did. Could you do it? For your own reason? Would your reason be enough to keep you going? Well, these people succeeded.
Please allow yourself to understand, Mr. Benford. I believe fighting for what you believe in is being true to yourself. And you probably don't know this, but people do it every day. Look at people sometime, Mr. Benford. Not down at them, and not through hated eyes. Notice what they do to go through day to day.
Oh, yes. On one small note I forgot to include some real important names of people who were in the war, and still were under your social status. These people -- people, Mr. Benford, played a terrific role. And we wouldn't be here if not for them. I commemorate 4 people, to which you still have never heard of:
Trowa Barton
Wufei Chang
Duo Maxwell
Heero Yuy'
That was it. The page was blank. Mr. Benford raised his eyebrow and went back through the text. He counted the number of people. Then he counted the number of deceased people. He was surprised at how there were almost half as many people deceased as alive. He wasn't rather sure if that was good or bad, but he turned his eyes to the television.
There was a meeting on the television. They were discussing various things. It was unlike most meetings where they gathered for one particular reason and carried on about it. It was more like a two sided and then the 'I's have it kind of thing. But what he noticed was Quatre sitting at the large meeting table.
Mr. Benford watched the television for a moment, and then turned back to the little packet of papers all held together by a paperclip. He turned his head back to the television, and smiled.
If Quatre said all of these people fought in the war, then they must have. But, if he says they wouldn't be here without them...he didn't want to admit it, but he was right. Quatre was -- what? -- 17 or something? He was young. The world was going into a new age; if that's the way it was going...so be it.
There was a girl he knew was at the meeting too, and the center of he TV. That was Relena. He knew that everything was going to go the way she wanted it to, and if she was anything like Quatre, then he wouldn't have a say anyways.
Mr. Benford reached over and shut the television off. He could see the outcome on the news tomorrow morning. He sat the packet down and stood up, just looking down on it. Then he dropped his gaze and walked towards the door, opening it, walking out, and closing it behind him.
"Ms. Bella," he said to his secretary as he walked pass her. "Get me a plane to earth, immediately."
"Yes sir," Ms. Bella said. She wondered why, but dared not to ask.
Mr. Benford got to the door, and pulled his coat and hat off the hat stand.
Near by, that butler was standing there watching. He immediately walked over to him, to help him with his coat and hat -- but he put them on by himself. Then he went to the door, but when the butler beat him to it, Mr. Benford smiled.
"Now, now," he said. "Let me get the door. You ask the driver to meet me around front... we have flowers to buy."
"F-flowers...sir?"
"For those that died in the war. We need to buy flowers for them, and then go plant them in their graves on earth."
"But...sir..."
"Now, I expect that driver in front soon," Mr. Benford said as he walked out, leaving the butler to just watch him go.
That same day, after the meeting was over...
Quatre tried to sneak out of the room, before any news reporters caught him and wanted to ask him questions. He got to the door, as all the older people and Ms. Relena got hounded down, then he opened the door slowly.
"Yo, Quatre!" Duo said as soon as he opened it. "Good job, man. I especially liked the part about... um... that stuff you were talking about."
"He fell asleep outside," came Wufei's voice.
"Hey!" Duo yelled out to him. Quatre just smiled.
"Well, Duo, I have to go, could you move?" Quatre asked, tempted to get out of the same room where the cameras were.
Duo shrugged. "'K." He stepped to the side and allowed Quatre to move out of the doorway, and shut the door behind him.
"That was long and dull," Quatre said in a sigh.
"Yeah, there's supposed to be, aren't they?" Duo asked.
"How's Relena?" came Heero's monotone voice from the shadows.
Quatre turned to look at him and nodded. "She's alright, just getting asked questions...poor girl."
The answer to that was a 'hn' from Heero, and him opening the door and going inside.
"Probably to see if any of them are going to try to drug her," came an amused Trowa from the same shadows.
Quatre smiled. "Trowa, did you send that package the other day?"
"Yes, Quatre. Actually, if it takes about two to three days to get there, he should have gotten it by now."
"That's good," Quatre said. "I sure hope that Mr. Benford understands."
Heero came back through the door, shutting it behind him, with a look on his face. "She's fine." Quatre thought it was strange he had to go see for himself, but then that was Heero.
"Hey," Duo said. "Let's go eat!"
Everyone turned their heads to him and a couple 'where?'s came out. To this he triumphantly replied, "McDonald's!" There were a couple groans, especially from Wufei who said he didn't want to eat disgusting American food, and Heero who was tired of being dragged to the place six days a week.
"All right, I'm driving!" Duo yelled as they all started walking out.
"Not if we all have a death wish," Wufei said. "I'll drive."
"But you drive to slow," Duo whined.
"And you drive to fast," Heero thought he'd say.
"How about we walk?" Trowa asked, who liked any bit of exercise he could get.
Quatre smiled. Lunch at McDonalds, friends fighting over who's going to drive, all of this stuff. He'd pick these normal, so-called 'lower classed' friends over rich snobby ones any day. (Besides, when they go out to eat, the guys pig out, which makes him look like a gentlemen and get a couple smile from any girls hanging around.)
The End
Thank you all! You didn't have to read the epilogue, trust me. I just thought I'd do it, because I said I'd do 5 chapters. And "I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie."
Duo: Hey!
Uh... that's not copyright to me either.Oh, and neither is McDonald's. I'm guessing that's copyright to a Mr. McDonald?
Quatre: *shrugs*
*shrugs* Well... thank you all for reviewing, I started crying one day, really, honest I did. You don't know how much this means to me, I've been an inspiring writer since I was in 2nd grade. You all rock! Thanks a lot!
Epilouge
By BakaDaz
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters are copyright to Bandai, Sunrise, Sotsu, and prolly everyone else but me. Original characters are made by me...yep.
I want to thank everyone for reviewing! I'm glad you all like the story. Well, I just thought I should give the story an ending ending, aka, an Epilouge (the ending of the ending) This is going to be quite short, so...
One week later...
A butler walked down the long hallways of the nice and shiny floors of the mansion. He came to a door near the end of the hall and knocked politely. A sharp "What?" was heard and he took that as a sign to enter. Taking his gloved hand, he reached the doorknob and opened the door.
Inside sat Mr. Benford, a small television to his left, and a notice in front of him to which he was reading. He looked up sharply as the door opened, and he frowned more with just seeing a butler standing there.
"What is it?" he asked in a rather irritated voice.
The butler stood nice and straight, he knew his presence was important. He cleared his throat and held up a flat package. "Package came for you, sir. I wanted to deliver it to you personally."
Mr. Benford's eyes fell on his desk. "Set it there, I'll look at it later."
"Sir," the old man acknowledged as he sat the item on to his desk and left, with a quick bow.
Mr. Benford's eyes fell onto the package. Curiosity getting the better of him, he picked it up and observed it. The return address was written so light, he could barely see it. He didn't know how those mailmen could read it. He opened his desk and found an envelope opener. Closing the drawer, he turned the package around and slid it under the fold. Dragging it down the line he opened it up. Setting the envelope down on his desk, he reached his hand in and pulled out a thin packet.
His eyebrow rose, wondering what this was all about. On the cover of the packet was written 'To Mr. Benford, you need to be lead in the right direction'.
He would have laughed, but didn't feel like it. He just had an amused look on his face as he flipped it open. Some low classed animal whining about something or other, most likely. He looked at the first page and his smile faded.
'Dear Mr. Benford,
I do hope that you were not offended too much that day [insert week] that you accommodated in my home. My friends and I were trying to give you a first hand perspective at what those people under your rank are like. They are not bad people Mr. Benford. These people are kind and good-hearted -- well, some of the deep down inside, but they are.
There's no reason to hate those just because of their lack of wealth. I have come to terms with the poorest of people sometimes, and I think I'd still rather spend a day with them than with any rich people that think of themselves as a sultan-- I mean king.
I do not wish to lecture you, Mr. Benford, but merely proove you wrong. It is incorrect to look down on one; that is not what mankind was made for.
Sincerely,
Quatre R. Winner'
Mr. Benford shook his head. It was Quatre who was wrong, not himself. If you give a poor person too much pride, who knows what they may do? Society isn't run on people who have to wash their own belongings and work so hard and long (gee, I'm getting sick as I write this).
But Mr. Benford was willing to go along with Quatre's idea. He turned the page and saw a listing of names. It was like in a telephone book, except there was nothing there but names lined up on the left, and the word either 'Living' or 'Deceased' in a column on the right.
There were 5 pages of this, Mr. Benford noticed as he skimmed through the pages. And not one person whom he knew. When he came to the 6th and final page of the packet, there was another letter to him from Quatre.
'Mr. Benford,
I'm sure by now you have noticed that you know none of these people. Well, that is because they are not of your social status, and you do not care to know anyone below yours. One day after you left, my friends and I gathered all of these names to put on these pages. Do you know why?
This is a short list of only some of the people who fought in the war. The war, Mr. Benford. They risked their lives, for whatever reason it was, they were fighting for it. I'm not sure if many people could stand up and do that--but these people did. Could you do it? For your own reason? Would your reason be enough to keep you going? Well, these people succeeded.
Please allow yourself to understand, Mr. Benford. I believe fighting for what you believe in is being true to yourself. And you probably don't know this, but people do it every day. Look at people sometime, Mr. Benford. Not down at them, and not through hated eyes. Notice what they do to go through day to day.
Oh, yes. On one small note I forgot to include some real important names of people who were in the war, and still were under your social status. These people -- people, Mr. Benford, played a terrific role. And we wouldn't be here if not for them. I commemorate 4 people, to which you still have never heard of:
Trowa Barton
Wufei Chang
Duo Maxwell
Heero Yuy'
That was it. The page was blank. Mr. Benford raised his eyebrow and went back through the text. He counted the number of people. Then he counted the number of deceased people. He was surprised at how there were almost half as many people deceased as alive. He wasn't rather sure if that was good or bad, but he turned his eyes to the television.
There was a meeting on the television. They were discussing various things. It was unlike most meetings where they gathered for one particular reason and carried on about it. It was more like a two sided and then the 'I's have it kind of thing. But what he noticed was Quatre sitting at the large meeting table.
Mr. Benford watched the television for a moment, and then turned back to the little packet of papers all held together by a paperclip. He turned his head back to the television, and smiled.
If Quatre said all of these people fought in the war, then they must have. But, if he says they wouldn't be here without them...he didn't want to admit it, but he was right. Quatre was -- what? -- 17 or something? He was young. The world was going into a new age; if that's the way it was going...so be it.
There was a girl he knew was at the meeting too, and the center of he TV. That was Relena. He knew that everything was going to go the way she wanted it to, and if she was anything like Quatre, then he wouldn't have a say anyways.
Mr. Benford reached over and shut the television off. He could see the outcome on the news tomorrow morning. He sat the packet down and stood up, just looking down on it. Then he dropped his gaze and walked towards the door, opening it, walking out, and closing it behind him.
"Ms. Bella," he said to his secretary as he walked pass her. "Get me a plane to earth, immediately."
"Yes sir," Ms. Bella said. She wondered why, but dared not to ask.
Mr. Benford got to the door, and pulled his coat and hat off the hat stand.
Near by, that butler was standing there watching. He immediately walked over to him, to help him with his coat and hat -- but he put them on by himself. Then he went to the door, but when the butler beat him to it, Mr. Benford smiled.
"Now, now," he said. "Let me get the door. You ask the driver to meet me around front... we have flowers to buy."
"F-flowers...sir?"
"For those that died in the war. We need to buy flowers for them, and then go plant them in their graves on earth."
"But...sir..."
"Now, I expect that driver in front soon," Mr. Benford said as he walked out, leaving the butler to just watch him go.
That same day, after the meeting was over...
Quatre tried to sneak out of the room, before any news reporters caught him and wanted to ask him questions. He got to the door, as all the older people and Ms. Relena got hounded down, then he opened the door slowly.
"Yo, Quatre!" Duo said as soon as he opened it. "Good job, man. I especially liked the part about... um... that stuff you were talking about."
"He fell asleep outside," came Wufei's voice.
"Hey!" Duo yelled out to him. Quatre just smiled.
"Well, Duo, I have to go, could you move?" Quatre asked, tempted to get out of the same room where the cameras were.
Duo shrugged. "'K." He stepped to the side and allowed Quatre to move out of the doorway, and shut the door behind him.
"That was long and dull," Quatre said in a sigh.
"Yeah, there's supposed to be, aren't they?" Duo asked.
"How's Relena?" came Heero's monotone voice from the shadows.
Quatre turned to look at him and nodded. "She's alright, just getting asked questions...poor girl."
The answer to that was a 'hn' from Heero, and him opening the door and going inside.
"Probably to see if any of them are going to try to drug her," came an amused Trowa from the same shadows.
Quatre smiled. "Trowa, did you send that package the other day?"
"Yes, Quatre. Actually, if it takes about two to three days to get there, he should have gotten it by now."
"That's good," Quatre said. "I sure hope that Mr. Benford understands."
Heero came back through the door, shutting it behind him, with a look on his face. "She's fine." Quatre thought it was strange he had to go see for himself, but then that was Heero.
"Hey," Duo said. "Let's go eat!"
Everyone turned their heads to him and a couple 'where?'s came out. To this he triumphantly replied, "McDonald's!" There were a couple groans, especially from Wufei who said he didn't want to eat disgusting American food, and Heero who was tired of being dragged to the place six days a week.
"All right, I'm driving!" Duo yelled as they all started walking out.
"Not if we all have a death wish," Wufei said. "I'll drive."
"But you drive to slow," Duo whined.
"And you drive to fast," Heero thought he'd say.
"How about we walk?" Trowa asked, who liked any bit of exercise he could get.
Quatre smiled. Lunch at McDonalds, friends fighting over who's going to drive, all of this stuff. He'd pick these normal, so-called 'lower classed' friends over rich snobby ones any day. (Besides, when they go out to eat, the guys pig out, which makes him look like a gentlemen and get a couple smile from any girls hanging around.)
The End
Thank you all! You didn't have to read the epilogue, trust me. I just thought I'd do it, because I said I'd do 5 chapters. And "I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie."
Duo: Hey!
Uh... that's not copyright to me either.Oh, and neither is McDonald's. I'm guessing that's copyright to a Mr. McDonald?
Quatre: *shrugs*
*shrugs* Well... thank you all for reviewing, I started crying one day, really, honest I did. You don't know how much this means to me, I've been an inspiring writer since I was in 2nd grade. You all rock! Thanks a lot!
