Disclaimers: I don't own any characthers of FY....*mumbles*
The Miaka bashing story=)
Once upon a time..A little girl by the name of Miaka Yuuki was walking on Mt.Reikoku.Suddently, the amazingly great Reikoku bandits stoped her from her route.
Where are you going little one? ,asked the leader of the bandits,Tasuki. I was only taking a walk in the forest..., she answered. The leader then looked at her and said Aren't ya the stupid little gilr that lives with that weird blue hairded dude near reikoku's river? TAMAHOME IS NOT WEIRD!!!
Tasuki then laughed and looked at her real close. He grined and miaka backed up a bit. What are you doing..Hey wait! Miaka looked at him and yelled TASUKI!WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! Tasuki then laughed and told her I'm doing what everyone's been wanting to do since we first saw ya he grined. Then Chichiri, Chiriko, Mitsukake and Nuriko appeared out of nowhere.
Miaka Yelled again guys?! What are you doing here?! Then all of them jumped on her and dressed her up as a chicken. Everyone laughed.Miaka in tears was asking why they did that..Noone answered, evil looks on their faces. Mitsusake then grabed her and tossed her in the air. ,the little girl screamed. Nuriko then jumped in the air and grabed her ,throwing her in chichiri's direction. the little girl screamed. Chichiri then said a few words and Miaka was changed into a real chicken. COCKORICKO!! screamed the little chicken...Tasuki then said RRREEEEKAAAAAA SHIEEENEEEEEEN!! and fried the poor little chicken..
The same night, Tamahome was sitting on his bed waiting for Miaka. Then someone knocked on the door.he went to it and opened it. screamed Nuricko, Tasuki, Mitsukake, Chichiri and Chiriko. Aww guys!you shouldn't have! tamahome said. The Tasuki gave him his gift Here looser..your gift.. he handed him a roasted chicken. That night, Tamahome didn't know where Miaka went sleeping..but he sure did have a great meal!
YES!!I MADE IT!!FINNALLY I KILLED MIAKA!!BWAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!*clears his throat*..ok...well..i'm gonna sleep good tonight..
