Love Potion #9

Celestia Maxwell

Davis trudged down the sidwalks of downtown Odaiba. His hands were stuffed deep in his
pockets, and his head drooped down. There was an air of melancholy surrounding the poor thing.
As everyone knows, mealncholy does not smell good at all, so he was rather alone on the streets of
Odaiba. Everyone walked on the other side of the streets, fearful of that horrid scent. Or, if they
were brave enough to bear the odor, they'd continue walking on Davis' side of the street until they
were about three feet away, at which point they would either faint or run away screaming.

Anyway, Davis didn't notice the stench of melancholy, or perhaps he was just used to it now. He
just continued to walk along, thinking his sorry thoughts. Our friend Davis was having love
troubles. For years, he'd secretly desired the same person. Kari. This was no small crush, for
Davis was now 17, and their history went back quite far, from when they were preteens going
back and forth from Earth to that world they never spoke of.

People had changed quite a bit since their romps through that other world. All the children were
older now, though they weren't really that much more mature. Ken went to a high school for
those who scored very high on entrance exams; somehow, Yolei scraped through so she could go
to the same school. Cody had moved away; he now lived in the middle of nowhere with his
grandfather, practicing kendo, going to kendo competitions and winning, and drinking prune juice.
He wrote many letters to the others and sent cases of prune juice. Unfortunately, no one had the
heart to ask Cody to stop sending the prune juice. All of it now resided in the Odaiba community
landfill.

Kari, TK, or rather Keru, as he was now called, and Davis went to the same school. The school
was pretty good, not the most challenging there was. School gossip nearly always revolved around
the Sickenly Cute Couple (Or SCC, as it was known as on bathroom walls and in hushed voices),
Kari and Keru. The two had known each other since they were eight and were expected to grow
up, marry each other, and have twelve kids. Davis couldn't stand talking about them; he still called
Keru TK (Or as close as he could get; Davis still hadn't mastered the concept of "K after T").

Moving back to our tale, Davis continued to walk, leaving several women and a couple men layin
unconscious in his wake. He was feeling rather crushed, for his latest "Let's try to get Kari to go
out with me" plot had failed miserably and made him the laughingstock of his school. "Maybe I
should give up on Kari. She's stuck like glue to T.Whatever." Davis thought. After pondering
this thought a bit, he shook his head. "But I CAN'T! There must be some way for me to get a
date with her! I know it. But how am I gonna find it? I'm the school idiot. Why would Kari
give up a blonde bimbo of a jock for me?"

In his misery, Davis didn't pay much attention at all. With a crash, he walked straight into an open
door.

Rubbing his head, Davis looked at the brightly painted sign hanging on the door.
"Madame....Mattalyn's......Love..... Potions?" he slowly read. Hittng his head had rattled his
brains quite a bit, but not so much as to miss the fact that there was an opportunity right in front of
him. "A love potion! Sure, it's a superstition, but you never know, right?"

Davis' face was brighter as he walked inside, eager to help his love life out a bit. The melancholy
politely waited outside, realizing that on the sign, in smaller print, it read "Melancholy not
welcome".

Inside, it was very dark, with only a few fat white candles lighting the room. The air stank of
incense, an oddly fruity scent like pineapples mixed with cough syrup. Along every wall there
were shelves holding all sorts of bottles: some tall, some short, some thin, some fat, all in a variety
of colours. At the far end of the little room, in front of the shelves, there was a desk covered in an
inch-thick layer of dust. Davis walked over and made the fatal mistake of setting his arm on the
surface, sending a thick cloud of dust and dirt in the air. He coughed and sneezed, and when the
haze cleared, Davis noticed a bell sitting on the desk. Next to the bell was a small sign which read
"Ding me!". Davis, seeing no other choice if he was going to get his love potion, began to ding.

Upstairs, Madame Mattalyn fiddled with her love potions. She opened an empty bottle and began
to pour a rather nasty-looking combination of ingredients inside of it. Ink was sloppily poured in,
some of it landing on the table rather than in the bottle, along with root beer, chopped parsnips,
some ground-up leaves of lemon basil, and a pinch of salt to taste.

"Hmm..." Madame Mattalyn muttered in a low voice. "Something must be added for luck."

She turned around three times and spit in the bottle.

With a smile, she declared, "Perfect!"

The faint sound of a dinging bell reached Mattalyn's ears. "Damn," she cursed, then called down
in a high-pitched squeek, "'Ooever eet ees, I'll be down een a moment!" She hurried down,
carrying the little bottle.

Davis stood by the desk, continually dinging the bell and tapping his foot rather impatiently.
Madame Mattalyn strode down the stairs while Davis dinged. She was an odd-looking lady,
wearing an ugly, frumpy powder-blue dress. Her hair was covered by a loud pink paisley scarf,
though such a headscarf was rather useless. The Madame's hair was very short, and every blonde
lock could be could be seen hanging around her shoulders.

"'Alloo, young boy!" she said in her high little voice, but Davis didn't hear her over the dinging of
the bell. "Weel you be needing anyzing today, child?" she tried again, but Davis ignored her, all of
his concentration bent on dinging the little call-bell.

Madame Mattalyn was getting sick of being ignored. This was, after all, her shop, and no one
would ignore her in it! Mattalyn's steely grey eyes glittered with anger. Her voice dropped to a
very low, quite unfeminine pitch as she yelled, "STOP RINGING THE BLOODY BELL!"

Davis looked up, shocked, his hand frozen above the bell. "Hello, Madame Mattalyn," he said
nervously. "I've been having some trouble wi--"

Madame Mattalyn cut Davis off, saying, "Davis?"

"Yeah, Davis...Wait a second. How do you know my name?" Davis asked her. He peered closer
at the Madame. "...Matt?"

"'Oo ees Matt? I ahm Mattalyn," Madame Mattalyn replied, reverting to her screechy voice.

"No!" Davis cried out, excited. "You're Matt, aren't you? Nice accent, by the way," he said
sarcastically.

Mattalyn's voice dropped again as "she" spoke. "Fine, fine, it's Matt. Are you in here to get a
love potion, or were you hired to come here and annoy me?"

"Love potion," Davis said quickly. "But why are you dressed like a girl? And what's up with your
eyes?"

"The band needs new equipment," Matt answered. "They decided that selling love potions would
make money quickly and unanimously voted me to be the seller of potions. And I'm wearing
contacts." He paused a moment. "If you tell ANYONE about this, and I will tell Kari that you've
decided to stop pursuing her in favour of Cody. Understand?"

Davis nodded, and started talking again. "You know, Matt, this is a cool idea. The location's all
wrong, though! There's a building for rent down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine. You'd get a lot
more customers there, I bet. It's got big windows and--"

"Davis? Do the world a favour and shut up a while." Matt started speaking again in his
fake-French-accent voice. "Sooo, child, you are een need of a love potion! For you, I
reecommend Love Potion Noombair Nine! It's the strongest we have ozzer zahn Love Potion
Noombair Ten, wheech ees so strong that I haven't created eet yet. Conseedering the trouble
you're een, you certainly need it."
~*~

And that's where we'll end for today. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think. Should
I continue? Was it funny? Did you catch the refrences to the original song? I'll probably
continue no matter what, but it'd be nice to know that you all cared, ne?

And of course, I must add this: I don't own Digimon. I don't own the song "Love Potion #9". I
do, however, own this story. Plagerize and die. Thanks a bunch.