The Headless Aftermath and Other Rats in the Sun
From the author of, "An Autobiography of Vincent Valentine,"
And, "Phantom Wall Devils: An Interview with Sephiroth."
Written by: Phoenix Down and three hundred and forty seven monkeys chained to type-writers in a orange colored room.
"Happiness is a warm gun." (John Lennon.)
Dante always knew that he was a talented boy; he grew up a very talented man. If the streak of yearning for power didn't exist in him- he would have perused acting instead of politics.
But, look at him.
He perused politics, and won the gold metal. You couldn't DO any better than he did. There isn't a seat more powerful than his own. He IS the president of Shin-Ra, the king of the world.
Dante twisted, turned, and swung his hips. He was also a beautiful dancer. He would have been the star of the screen of he wanted to act. He would have smoked the competition in anything he wanted to do.
He danced in front of the huge window in his office.
Eighteen years of tap.
His body was graceful, beautiful, and only a hint of peppery jazz. He smiled with dead, bone, white teeth.
There was a heavy knock on the polished door of his office.
"Come." Dante Julius spun around on his heel as the man entered his office.
It was the huge, sweaty man in the gray felt cowboy hat.
"I need t' talk t' yer." The huge man spoke with a crusty voice. He dragged a rag over his red, fat face.
"Then, talk." Dante said as he sat down behind his desk.
"We need t' tare down the mansion, THIS WEEK, Julius. I'm done playin' games. We had a deal- and I paid you yer money."
Please, patience, my old friend." Dante stood and faced the huge window of his office. It was once Rufus' office- until that one blew up but was shortly repaired.
The fat man in the cowboy hat looked displeased.
"No patience! I am DONE bein' patient! We tare dat buildin' down, NOW! We tare it down To-DAY, or I ring your skinny lil' neck with my BARE HANDS!"
Dante turned around, and ran his pale fingers through his newly bleached hair.
"Just tell me what is down there, and we will tare it down this very minute. I promise." Julius flashed the fat man a sleek, smooth, smile.
The fat man grunted. He was not a stupid man by any means.
"It ain't none of your business, kid. But, I see no harm in tellin' ya now. Now, dat there isn't anyone else listening. Fine. I'll tell ya- it don't matter anyway because I OWN what's down there. Two things. One, dat's where they moved the headless Jenova project after Sephiroth was killed, and two, they moved that down there because no one would have taken it because of what else is down der with it. Protectin' it."
"Go on." Julius coaxed.
"Monster's lair. Dat's where... they all... meet, sort to speak. Day meet down der, you know." The fat man's voice softened, and he lowered his rose colored face.
"Monster's... meet down there?"
"Sort of like a monster U.N. They hold meetin's. Smart monsters, though. Actually, dey not like monsters at all. They organize things. Plan them. Against us- dey have been down there much longer than we have been up here."
"I see. Who else knows about this?" Dante asked interestedly. He placed his hands upon his hips.
"Not many folk. Most think it's only a legend. Written in books by the Cetra. There are records." Replied the fat man. He removed his cowboy hat from his greasy, balding head.
"And the monster's are holding Jenova now?"
"Stupid kid." The fat man said as he placed a cigar into his mouth. "The monsters know what Jenova really is. She is a dead Cetra goddess. An ancient one. She's been around as long as they have. Dey respect her- worship her for what she really is. Monsters, in a way, are wiser dan us. I didn' think you'd understand. And, it's mine now, so, keep yer nose t' your own from now on." The fat man patted his sides for a lighter.
Ideas were folding behind Dante's eyes and in his head. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden lighter. He handed it to the fat man.
"It's a fascinating story, anyway, I just don't know how much merit or truth it holds." Julius sat back down in his red leather chair behind his desk, and folded his legs together at the knee. "Fine, go ahead, use our bulldozers and equipment and knock down the mansion tomorrow."
"TO-DAY." The fat man corrected him as he lit his cigar.
Julius smiled like a serpent swallowing a white rat. He wasn't sure HOW yet- but he was certainly planning on manipulating the manipulator.
Like the way a cat bites the fingers of the human that feeds it- or the way the fox out runs the hare.
"Fine. Right, TO-DAY. We will tare it down today." Julius padded his words thickly.
"You mean, I WILL tare it down today." The fat man corrected him with a pleased smile.
Dante Julius nodded.
He smiled exactly like a fox.
~
"Sorry the house is such a damn mess. We weren't expectin'..." Cid began. Vincent shook his head as Sheila returned with a tray full of tea. She set it gently upon the table.
"Yes. It's been rare since we have entertained real people. The only folk that come around now-a-days are the media. They keep following Cid's battles in court with the landlords. He still wants to build a small airport here in Rocket Town." Sheila added as she sat down.
Yuffie took her tea and filled it with sugar lumps.
Vincent didn't touch any of the cups and saucers.
"So, well, first question: Why are you two travelin' together, anyway?" Cid asked. He rested his foot upon the chair, and leaned in on his knee.
He eyed them both suspiciously.
Vincent looked to Yuffie.
"I-uh... was looking for materia. And uh- found him."
"She came down to my basement and told me that the new Shin-Ra president was looking to tare down the mansion." Vincent cut her short and said flatly.
Sheila glanced at Vincent.
He spoke stoically, and gently took a steaming cup of black tea in-between his fingers.
"Yeah, that's true." Cid answered as he stroked his grizzly face.
"I can't let him do that." Vincent sighed as let the misty streamers from the hot tea caress his pale face.
"Let me get your cape, Mr. Valentine." Sheila offered. Cid glanced at her.
"Why not?" Asked Cid, "Because of your- ah, coffi-"
"No." Vincent stopped him. "It has nothing to do with my resting place." He answered as he placed his tea down and unfastened his red cape that was badly torn.
He struggled with the buttons- as he only has one good hand.
Sheila gently helped him.
Yuffie glanced at them, and sipped her sugary tea.
"Then what is it, if you pardon me for asking?" Sheila asked as she slung Vincent's cape over her arm.
Vincent paused, and looked to Cid. "Behind the laboratory, there is a uhm. ... Well, I learned this from my past experience at Shin-Ra." He closed his eyes and took a heavy, dark breath. "They never tore down the mansion because of what's down there. Besides me. There are... creatures. They make horrible... horrible sounds at night. That's why so many think it's haunted."
"Funny, I thought they thought it was haunted because of you..." Yuffie muttered sarcastically.
Both Cid and Vincent ignored her. Sheila listened for a moment, but turned away and left to mend Vincent's cape.
"Suffice it to say, we- or I- must stop the demolition. Either way, it must be done. If they open that room down there, it would be a declaration of war against the ... creatures. Demons. Ancient, demons. There are millions of them. The Shin-Ra, or whomever, don't know what they are getting themselves into. It's a foolish thing, Cid." Vincent said as he sipped his tea.
Cid lowered his head in thought, and stroked his sandy chin.
"I frankly don't want nothing to do with it. I'm done bein' a hero. I just want to build my airport. I KNEW that Julius kid was trouble. I was actually done bein' hero before "The Incident." I was done after I came home from the war way back so many $#%$@ years ago, Vincent. Grant it, if ya don't mind me sayin' so, I respect ya and all, but, $#%$ this ain't my battle." Cid removed his foot from the chair, and folded his arms.
"Cid, please, don't make me beg you. You don't know what your saying. This could be another-"
"No, Vincent. I @^%$# said NO! The mansion is your deal. I just don't get why your goin' about this whole thing with a kid." Cid glanced at Yuffie coldly and then turned away to follow Sheila into the wash room.
"Cid!" Vincent stood abruptly and placed his tea down. "Please!" He called as he followed Cid. "At least let me..." Vincent's voice trailed off as both he and Cid vanished into the wash room.
Yuffie heard faint a muffling of Sheila's, Vincent's, and Cid's voices arguing at the other side of the house.
She finished her tea, and looked around.
She wondered to herself. She didn't even know why she was traveling with Vincent; he was right- she didn't like him one bit. Why did he care so much if the mansion was getting torn down? Who cares if more monsters were released, anyway? He probably only cared about his creepy coffin being disturbed.
She didn't know shy she was sticking around here. Both Cid and Vincent hated her. Yuffie stood, and looked around the house once more. She headed toward the desk in the far corner. It was a opened roll-top desk, with strewn papers of all shapes, sizes, and colors upon it. Beside them were dozens of coffee rings stains.
She glanced up, and listened to the arguing a moment. Satisfied, she started to go through Cid's things until she found something worth taking. She found a 50$ gil hiding in one of the drawers.
Then, she turned to leave without another thought. She closed the door silently behind her.
~
"Well, this is it. My pad." Cloud said with a slight smile.
"It's... nice?" Tifa looked around with a crooked smile.
Cloud shrugged.
"I hope you don't mind. There is only one bed, so, I thought I'd let you have it. I'd be sleeping downstairs."
"Cloud?"
"Yeah?" Cloud looked up as he grabbed her bags.
"It's ok." She said gently.
He didn't reply, only continued lifting her bags all at once. He took them to his bedroom.
"Is it ok if I go and shower?" She yelled to him from the other room.
"Yeah, go ahead!" He called back.
She went into the bathroom, and proceeded to undress and start the water- forgetting to shut the door.
Her mind was swarming with things she wanted to talk about- things she needed to say- but had no idea how to go about saying them.
~
Tseng dragged the body into the bathtub hours ago. He was still tearing apart the apartment in search for some gasoline, or fail that- some turpentine.
Reeve's body was beginning to smell.
"GOD-damnit, Reeve, you good-for-nothing sod! Don't you keep anything USEFUL in here!?"
Cans of cleaner, soap, toilet paper, towels, sponges, and plastic sporks littered the kitchen floor. (Along with blood, wine, broken glass, and a tipped-over-table.) He already ravaged the pantry and the storage room. He found nothing. The closest thing he could find was a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
He needed something more flammable.
He sighed with boiling frustration.
"Don't make me go and BUY some gasoline just to get rid of you. God. You fucking asshole. Even after your dead you still continue being an asshole." Tseng yelled to the corpse in the bathroom as he rinsed his hands off in the kitchen sink.
Tseng kicked the tipped over kitchen table, shattering it just for fun. Then, after a moment of satisfaction passed, he picked up a chair and smashed it into the wall.
That felt good, too.
He continued wrecking Reeve's perfectly clean, perfectly tasteful apartment until he was exhausted.
Then, he pissed on the white carpet- spelling out in urine, "Reeve is an asshole."
After he was satisfied befouling everything, he found an ancient can of gasoline hidden behind the furnace in the storage room. He must have over looked the dusty, cobweb covered can.
As he dumped the old brown contents all over Reeve's bloody, dead body in the bathroom, he whistled, "Earth Angel."
Then, he went back into the kitchen. As he wiped his sleeve across his forehead, sweat and blood fused together. He finished whistling 'Earth Angel.' He paused, and tried to remember the words to, 'Yakety Yak.' He shrugged, and searched for a match.
He found a box of them in the top cupboard.
He went back into the bathroom with the box. "See ya in hell, Reeve. You know how long I've wanted to say that?" He chuckled, then, the words came to him as he struck the match,
"Take out the papers and the trash, or you don't get no spendin' cash, if you don't scrub that floor, you don't get to rock n' roll no more. Hear that, Reeve?"
He smirked, and dropped the match.
"Yakety yak, don't... talk... back."
From the author of, "An Autobiography of Vincent Valentine,"
And, "Phantom Wall Devils: An Interview with Sephiroth."
Written by: Phoenix Down and three hundred and forty seven monkeys chained to type-writers in a orange colored room.
"Happiness is a warm gun." (John Lennon.)
Dante always knew that he was a talented boy; he grew up a very talented man. If the streak of yearning for power didn't exist in him- he would have perused acting instead of politics.
But, look at him.
He perused politics, and won the gold metal. You couldn't DO any better than he did. There isn't a seat more powerful than his own. He IS the president of Shin-Ra, the king of the world.
Dante twisted, turned, and swung his hips. He was also a beautiful dancer. He would have been the star of the screen of he wanted to act. He would have smoked the competition in anything he wanted to do.
He danced in front of the huge window in his office.
Eighteen years of tap.
His body was graceful, beautiful, and only a hint of peppery jazz. He smiled with dead, bone, white teeth.
There was a heavy knock on the polished door of his office.
"Come." Dante Julius spun around on his heel as the man entered his office.
It was the huge, sweaty man in the gray felt cowboy hat.
"I need t' talk t' yer." The huge man spoke with a crusty voice. He dragged a rag over his red, fat face.
"Then, talk." Dante said as he sat down behind his desk.
"We need t' tare down the mansion, THIS WEEK, Julius. I'm done playin' games. We had a deal- and I paid you yer money."
Please, patience, my old friend." Dante stood and faced the huge window of his office. It was once Rufus' office- until that one blew up but was shortly repaired.
The fat man in the cowboy hat looked displeased.
"No patience! I am DONE bein' patient! We tare dat buildin' down, NOW! We tare it down To-DAY, or I ring your skinny lil' neck with my BARE HANDS!"
Dante turned around, and ran his pale fingers through his newly bleached hair.
"Just tell me what is down there, and we will tare it down this very minute. I promise." Julius flashed the fat man a sleek, smooth, smile.
The fat man grunted. He was not a stupid man by any means.
"It ain't none of your business, kid. But, I see no harm in tellin' ya now. Now, dat there isn't anyone else listening. Fine. I'll tell ya- it don't matter anyway because I OWN what's down there. Two things. One, dat's where they moved the headless Jenova project after Sephiroth was killed, and two, they moved that down there because no one would have taken it because of what else is down der with it. Protectin' it."
"Go on." Julius coaxed.
"Monster's lair. Dat's where... they all... meet, sort to speak. Day meet down der, you know." The fat man's voice softened, and he lowered his rose colored face.
"Monster's... meet down there?"
"Sort of like a monster U.N. They hold meetin's. Smart monsters, though. Actually, dey not like monsters at all. They organize things. Plan them. Against us- dey have been down there much longer than we have been up here."
"I see. Who else knows about this?" Dante asked interestedly. He placed his hands upon his hips.
"Not many folk. Most think it's only a legend. Written in books by the Cetra. There are records." Replied the fat man. He removed his cowboy hat from his greasy, balding head.
"And the monster's are holding Jenova now?"
"Stupid kid." The fat man said as he placed a cigar into his mouth. "The monsters know what Jenova really is. She is a dead Cetra goddess. An ancient one. She's been around as long as they have. Dey respect her- worship her for what she really is. Monsters, in a way, are wiser dan us. I didn' think you'd understand. And, it's mine now, so, keep yer nose t' your own from now on." The fat man patted his sides for a lighter.
Ideas were folding behind Dante's eyes and in his head. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden lighter. He handed it to the fat man.
"It's a fascinating story, anyway, I just don't know how much merit or truth it holds." Julius sat back down in his red leather chair behind his desk, and folded his legs together at the knee. "Fine, go ahead, use our bulldozers and equipment and knock down the mansion tomorrow."
"TO-DAY." The fat man corrected him as he lit his cigar.
Julius smiled like a serpent swallowing a white rat. He wasn't sure HOW yet- but he was certainly planning on manipulating the manipulator.
Like the way a cat bites the fingers of the human that feeds it- or the way the fox out runs the hare.
"Fine. Right, TO-DAY. We will tare it down today." Julius padded his words thickly.
"You mean, I WILL tare it down today." The fat man corrected him with a pleased smile.
Dante Julius nodded.
He smiled exactly like a fox.
~
"Sorry the house is such a damn mess. We weren't expectin'..." Cid began. Vincent shook his head as Sheila returned with a tray full of tea. She set it gently upon the table.
"Yes. It's been rare since we have entertained real people. The only folk that come around now-a-days are the media. They keep following Cid's battles in court with the landlords. He still wants to build a small airport here in Rocket Town." Sheila added as she sat down.
Yuffie took her tea and filled it with sugar lumps.
Vincent didn't touch any of the cups and saucers.
"So, well, first question: Why are you two travelin' together, anyway?" Cid asked. He rested his foot upon the chair, and leaned in on his knee.
He eyed them both suspiciously.
Vincent looked to Yuffie.
"I-uh... was looking for materia. And uh- found him."
"She came down to my basement and told me that the new Shin-Ra president was looking to tare down the mansion." Vincent cut her short and said flatly.
Sheila glanced at Vincent.
He spoke stoically, and gently took a steaming cup of black tea in-between his fingers.
"Yeah, that's true." Cid answered as he stroked his grizzly face.
"I can't let him do that." Vincent sighed as let the misty streamers from the hot tea caress his pale face.
"Let me get your cape, Mr. Valentine." Sheila offered. Cid glanced at her.
"Why not?" Asked Cid, "Because of your- ah, coffi-"
"No." Vincent stopped him. "It has nothing to do with my resting place." He answered as he placed his tea down and unfastened his red cape that was badly torn.
He struggled with the buttons- as he only has one good hand.
Sheila gently helped him.
Yuffie glanced at them, and sipped her sugary tea.
"Then what is it, if you pardon me for asking?" Sheila asked as she slung Vincent's cape over her arm.
Vincent paused, and looked to Cid. "Behind the laboratory, there is a uhm. ... Well, I learned this from my past experience at Shin-Ra." He closed his eyes and took a heavy, dark breath. "They never tore down the mansion because of what's down there. Besides me. There are... creatures. They make horrible... horrible sounds at night. That's why so many think it's haunted."
"Funny, I thought they thought it was haunted because of you..." Yuffie muttered sarcastically.
Both Cid and Vincent ignored her. Sheila listened for a moment, but turned away and left to mend Vincent's cape.
"Suffice it to say, we- or I- must stop the demolition. Either way, it must be done. If they open that room down there, it would be a declaration of war against the ... creatures. Demons. Ancient, demons. There are millions of them. The Shin-Ra, or whomever, don't know what they are getting themselves into. It's a foolish thing, Cid." Vincent said as he sipped his tea.
Cid lowered his head in thought, and stroked his sandy chin.
"I frankly don't want nothing to do with it. I'm done bein' a hero. I just want to build my airport. I KNEW that Julius kid was trouble. I was actually done bein' hero before "The Incident." I was done after I came home from the war way back so many $#%$@ years ago, Vincent. Grant it, if ya don't mind me sayin' so, I respect ya and all, but, $#%$ this ain't my battle." Cid removed his foot from the chair, and folded his arms.
"Cid, please, don't make me beg you. You don't know what your saying. This could be another-"
"No, Vincent. I @^%$# said NO! The mansion is your deal. I just don't get why your goin' about this whole thing with a kid." Cid glanced at Yuffie coldly and then turned away to follow Sheila into the wash room.
"Cid!" Vincent stood abruptly and placed his tea down. "Please!" He called as he followed Cid. "At least let me..." Vincent's voice trailed off as both he and Cid vanished into the wash room.
Yuffie heard faint a muffling of Sheila's, Vincent's, and Cid's voices arguing at the other side of the house.
She finished her tea, and looked around.
She wondered to herself. She didn't even know why she was traveling with Vincent; he was right- she didn't like him one bit. Why did he care so much if the mansion was getting torn down? Who cares if more monsters were released, anyway? He probably only cared about his creepy coffin being disturbed.
She didn't know shy she was sticking around here. Both Cid and Vincent hated her. Yuffie stood, and looked around the house once more. She headed toward the desk in the far corner. It was a opened roll-top desk, with strewn papers of all shapes, sizes, and colors upon it. Beside them were dozens of coffee rings stains.
She glanced up, and listened to the arguing a moment. Satisfied, she started to go through Cid's things until she found something worth taking. She found a 50$ gil hiding in one of the drawers.
Then, she turned to leave without another thought. She closed the door silently behind her.
~
"Well, this is it. My pad." Cloud said with a slight smile.
"It's... nice?" Tifa looked around with a crooked smile.
Cloud shrugged.
"I hope you don't mind. There is only one bed, so, I thought I'd let you have it. I'd be sleeping downstairs."
"Cloud?"
"Yeah?" Cloud looked up as he grabbed her bags.
"It's ok." She said gently.
He didn't reply, only continued lifting her bags all at once. He took them to his bedroom.
"Is it ok if I go and shower?" She yelled to him from the other room.
"Yeah, go ahead!" He called back.
She went into the bathroom, and proceeded to undress and start the water- forgetting to shut the door.
Her mind was swarming with things she wanted to talk about- things she needed to say- but had no idea how to go about saying them.
~
Tseng dragged the body into the bathtub hours ago. He was still tearing apart the apartment in search for some gasoline, or fail that- some turpentine.
Reeve's body was beginning to smell.
"GOD-damnit, Reeve, you good-for-nothing sod! Don't you keep anything USEFUL in here!?"
Cans of cleaner, soap, toilet paper, towels, sponges, and plastic sporks littered the kitchen floor. (Along with blood, wine, broken glass, and a tipped-over-table.) He already ravaged the pantry and the storage room. He found nothing. The closest thing he could find was a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
He needed something more flammable.
He sighed with boiling frustration.
"Don't make me go and BUY some gasoline just to get rid of you. God. You fucking asshole. Even after your dead you still continue being an asshole." Tseng yelled to the corpse in the bathroom as he rinsed his hands off in the kitchen sink.
Tseng kicked the tipped over kitchen table, shattering it just for fun. Then, after a moment of satisfaction passed, he picked up a chair and smashed it into the wall.
That felt good, too.
He continued wrecking Reeve's perfectly clean, perfectly tasteful apartment until he was exhausted.
Then, he pissed on the white carpet- spelling out in urine, "Reeve is an asshole."
After he was satisfied befouling everything, he found an ancient can of gasoline hidden behind the furnace in the storage room. He must have over looked the dusty, cobweb covered can.
As he dumped the old brown contents all over Reeve's bloody, dead body in the bathroom, he whistled, "Earth Angel."
Then, he went back into the kitchen. As he wiped his sleeve across his forehead, sweat and blood fused together. He finished whistling 'Earth Angel.' He paused, and tried to remember the words to, 'Yakety Yak.' He shrugged, and searched for a match.
He found a box of them in the top cupboard.
He went back into the bathroom with the box. "See ya in hell, Reeve. You know how long I've wanted to say that?" He chuckled, then, the words came to him as he struck the match,
"Take out the papers and the trash, or you don't get no spendin' cash, if you don't scrub that floor, you don't get to rock n' roll no more. Hear that, Reeve?"
He smirked, and dropped the match.
"Yakety yak, don't... talk... back."