THE PINK SHIRT FILES
CHAPTER FOUR: PART ONE- BEWARE THE PURPLE BANANA
AN: Okay, so here's the deal- I haven't updated this story for soooooo long (gomen!), but it'll take me a bit longer to get this chapter done. So here's the first half! Also *waves her GW calendar about frantically, pointing to the date 1st of May* it's my birthday today! Suh-weet seventeen, peoples! Unfortunately I didn't get a naked Duo coming out of my birthday cake, but hey, better luck next year ^_~
Now, on with Chapter Four- part one!
Day 3
10:00 a.m.
The Dragon warrior stared at the obstacle course that lay ahead of him and shuddered. How could anything possibly survive in these conditions? Taking a deep breath (of somewhat stale air), he set foot inside the room right onto a rather sharp and pointy keyring of Deathscythe. Yelping, he made sure to take greater precautions as he continued through the cluttered room, sidestepping mangas, models, and unidentifiable pieces of unfinished lunches (among things) as he did so. He approached the bed in the corner.
"Alright Maxwell, get up!" Wufei (nursing a rather stiff jaw) ordered to the braided lump that was still curled up under the covers. His only reply was a pained groan. "Hurry up! It's your turn to deal with Quatre today."
"Fei-Fei? Is that you?" Duo moaned, snuggling further underneath his thick, woollen blanket.
"Of course it is, baka, and I order you to get up!" With those words, Wufei proceeded to pull the covers off the snoozing Shinigami, and attempted to pull him out of bed by the hair in the process.
"Hey! Leggo!" The Deathscythe pilot whined as he half-heartedly tried to free his braid from his opponent's firm grasp. "I can't help with Quatre today I feel sick."
"Yeah right." Wufei huffed. "Like that time you supposedly came down with pneumonia right before our last mission?"
"What about it?"
"Duo, we came home to find you having a pool party with the Maganacs."
Duo sweatdropped.
"Uh well that was different. This time I really am sick! It was the purple banana!"
Wufei raised an eyebrow, still gripping his friend's braid.
"What in Nataku's name are you talking about, Maxwell?"
"Well, it all happened last night when I was going for a midnight snack"
*flashback*
Duo crept into the kitchen and flicked the light on, automatically heading in the direction of the fridge. Still half asleep, he opened it, leaning on the door, and peered inside.
"Aw man, out of pocky." He grumbled, eyeing the contents of the fridge. He finally came upon a banana a somewhat fuzzy, odd coloured banana. Purple, actually. Duo pulled it out of the refrigerator and looked it over. "Ooo, freaky banana! It must be one of those genetically engineered ones that tastes like chocolate!" With that, he shoved the entire piece of fruit in his mouth and scoffed it down, smacking his lips. "Hm, not bad. Doesn't taste like chocolate though oh man, all of a sudden I don't feel so good." The 02 pilot headed back to his quarters, head swimming all the while, and passed out on his bed.
*end flashback*
"and now this morning I'm feeling even worse." Duo concluded.
"Did you ever consider that the banana was purple and fuzzy because it was mouldy?" Wufei asked, keeping his cool.
"MOULDY?!" The braided pilot grimaced. "I ate a mouldy banana? That's disgusting! That's gross! That's uh oh"
"Maxwell? You're not looking too well you're not gonna"
Trowa and Quatre were making their way to Duo's bedroom to see what was taking so long, when they heard a loud retching, followed by
"MAXWELL!!! I just washed this shirt!!"
"Sorry, Wu-Wu man, that banana tasted even worse second time round."
"Uh, maybe we should just wait for them in the living room." Quatre suggested.
"" his companion agreed, as they headed back the way they came.
10:45 a.m.
After a trip to the laundry, Wufei walked into the living room wearing a fresh singlet, and addressed the two pilots who were currently engaged in a riveting thumb-war.
"Alright, we have a bit of a setback." He informed them, as they each withdrew their thumbs. "Duo's not feeling well, as he made overly obvious to me, so we're going to have to make a few changes in today's classes'."
"Please, don't make me face the punching bag again!" Quatre pleaded, a cold chill running down his spine.
"No, I think you've had enough of that." Wufei replied, protectively raising a hand to his jaw. "Perhaps we should work on your mannerisms. What do you think, Trowa?"
""
"Good! Then we shall start right now."
11:09 a.m.
The three pilots walked down the corridors of Quatre's mansion to the dining room for morning tea.
"Uh, Wufei?" Quatre asked. "What exactly do you mean by working on my mannerisms'?"
"We need to devoid you of this somewhat pansy air about you." The Shenlong pilot replied, gesturing to the dining room they had just reached. "And we're going to start right here." Each pilot took a seat at the long, long, LONG table, with Wufei and Quatre at either end, and Trowa in the middle. At least that's what Wufei assumed the seating arrangements were- Quatre was just a mere spot on the horizon.
"Alright." He began, as everyone was served (the servants using a modified ride-on lawnmower to cover the vast distances between each person).
"WHAT?!" Quatre called, Wufei's voice too far away for him to hear.
"I SAID ALRIGHT'!" Came the frustrated reply.
"DID YOU SAY, ALL NIGHT?" The blonde called back. "WHAT HAPPENED ALL NIGHT? DID HEERO SLEEP WALK INTO WING ZERO AND GO ON A KILLING SPREE AGAIN?!"
" .!!!!!" (NO, LAST NIGHT HE WAS BUSY WITH HIS KARAOKE!) Trowa screeched as loud as he could.
Elsewhere
Heero stood in front of a full-length mirror, singing into his hairbrush.
"Oooooore dake no kooooootoba de"
"Heero sama!" One of the Maganacs complained, sticking his head in the door. "Can you please keep it down? We can hear you out in the garage and it's really quite distracting!"
" hn. Mission accepted." Disgruntled, the Wing Zero pilot left his room to go into the lounge room and watch the How To Put A Bullet In Your Enemy's Head Without Splattering Blood On Your Spandex And Other Helpful Hints' on cable.
Whilst all this was going on, a certain 02 pilot was confronted with the most horrific feeling known to hyperactive teenagers everywhere...
"I'm bored." Duo muttered to himself, flipping over in bed. As he did, he just happened to catch a glimpse of a brightly coloured package underneath the pile of old mangas next to his bed (not to mention several layers of dust).
"What's this?" He picked it up, and started unwrapping it (not noticing the attached card that said Happy 13th Birthday Duo, From Prof. G'), and discovered an interesting little mechanism inside: it was a sort of car, with all sorts of different attachments- kind of like a Swiss army knife on wheels. It looked as though it was controlled by the remote that was included in the parcel. Curious, Duo, played around with the buttons on the remote control, succeeding in making the little vehicle go backwards, forwards, and into a few walls, leaving a rather obvious dent.
Unfazed, Duo pushed a different button, which activated a claw-like grabbing mechanism.
"Ah, so the little guy's got hands, huh?" It was then that an idea hit him. Grinning, the Shinigami manoeuvred the mechanism out of his room and down the hall, headed for Heero's bedroom
11:35 a.m.
After relocating themselves so that they were all sitting next to each other (it had taken them quite a while just to walk to the middle of he table), Trowa, Quatre and Wufei, in that order, began to dine. Well, Quatre did- the other two stared at him like hungry ferrets, just waiting to pick his mannerisms to pieces. Nervously, Quatre picked up his teacup, and was about to take a sip when
"Tea?!" Wufei gaped. "A real man does NOT drink tea, especially out of little floral teacups like that!"
"Well, what do you suggest?" Quatre asked.
"" Trowa replied, pulling a flask out of his pocket.
"Since when do you carry booze around, Trowa?" The Shenlong pilot questioned.
"" (Since Cathy started using me in her knife-throwing act.)
"Oh."
"Hey!" The Arab interrupted. "I am NOT drinking that stuff! You know how I feel about alcohol!"
"Oh, come on!" Wufei said, tolling his eyes. "If you want to be a real man you have to learn how to hold your liquor!"
"But-"
"DRINK IT!!"
Nervously, the blonde took the chrome silver canister from his unibanged friend, and unscrewed the cap. The strong scent of alcohol permeated from it, and he scrunched his nose up at the scent. Closing his eyes, Quatre lifted the flask to his lips and took a swig, coughing violently as it burned his throat.
"?" (Good, ne?) Trowa commented.
"Have some more!" Urged Wufei , despite his student's pained looks. Reluctantly, Quatre took another swig and another, and another
"" (Wow, lookit him go!) The 03 pilot gaped, his visible eye widened. It wasn't long before a psychotic giggling (think Zero System) emitted from the liquor-laden boy.
"Trowa, how much alcohol is in that?" The 05 pilot asked.
"" (98%)
" We're in trouble."
_~*~_
"Heeeeeeeerooooooo!" Duo called from his bed. When he received to reply, he called out again. "HEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOO!!!!" He then heard footsteps hurriedly approaching, before his bedroom door was opened, revealing an action-ready Heero with his gun drawn.
"What is it? Has OZ tracked us down?" He asked, scanning the room for intruders.
"No," came the ill-sounding reply, "I was just wondering if you could get me an aspirin."
Heero glared.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Pleeeeeease, Hee-chan? I feel too sick to get it myself."
"Why don't you get one of the servants to get it?"
" Cos you're more fun to mess with." The braided boy replied, grinning. With a disgruntled sigh, Heero walked into the ensuit (which would have taken Duo a whole five second), and returned with the requested medication.
"Consider yourself lucky." He said, handing it to his comrade, before turning to leave and get back to his (rather sadistic) television programmes.
"Oh, and Heero?"
"What?"
"Can you bring one of the TV's up from downstairs? I'm bored."
"No way! I'm not your slave, Duo!"
"Oh, really?" The sickly Shinigami snickered, as he reached under his bed and
"How in the Hell did you get that?!!" The perfect soldier gaped as his friend' gleefully produced the laptop! (Dun dun DUUUUN!)
"I got Claws here to retrieve it from your room."
"Who's this Claws'?"
Duo gestured to the little remote controlled car thing that he had manoeuvred to steal Heero's laptop.
"I see. Give it back. NOW."
"Oh, I'll give it back," came the bubbly reply, "right after you do a few chores for me, the first of which involves bringing the TV up here!"
Heero looked at Duo, to his laptop, to Duo, to his laptop, to Duo, to his laptop, to Duo, to his laptop, to-
"Hm, I wonder what kind of websites you've been visiting lately? I mean, Trowa mentioned he saw you surfing porno sites, but I'm not sure I believe him maybe I should check your history-"
"Alright, I'll get your goddamned television!" With that, Heero was gone. Duo giggled to himself, stretching out in bed and putting his hands behind his head.
"I could get used to this"
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
~What's going to happen to Heero now that Duo is holding his laptop hostage? What kind of effects will all that alcohol have on a boy who is plastered after a single rum ball? Will Heero actually be IN CHARACTER next time around? Stay tuned for chapter 4.2 of 'The Pink Shirt Files'!~
