Title: Road Trip
Author: Ionia Metallium-Greywers
Chapter: 2
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Gomen, I haven't gotten to write much in a while. Busy with school and all that, you all understand right? Plus, I'm busy with about 10-12 MLs, 2 of which I'm moderating, so...well, that's how it goes. ^^;; But since school's out for two-and-a-half to three months, all of that should change. ^^ Yay! Go me! *waves uncharacteristic pom-poms* Oh, and by the way, this fic is now officially a joint-author fic by me and NagiLite! (Who wrote the majority of this chapter. ) ^^ Yay!
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiß Kreuz, or any characters in the anime/manga/radio drama, or King's Island.
I was instructed to put this in. ^^
Warning: May induce stress-relieving/fatal laughter. Take in small doses once every few hours.
OK! On with the fic! ^^
-----
Crawford beeped the horn on the car. "Damnit, Schuldich, hurry up! I've already filled up the gas tank and paid!"
Schuldich snorted and leaned against the wall of the food-drink-and cigs building of the gas station. "I WOULD hurry, mein liebchen, but we're waiting on Farf."
Crawford twitched. "How long does it TAKE to go to the bathroom, anyway?!"
Schuldich was about to answer when there was a shrill shriek from said restroom, followed by Farfie's trademark Giggle of Insanity and a gleeful "This hurts God."
"What NOW?" Crawford asked--well, he would have asked, but before he could, Nagi was already staggering out of the bathroom, Farfarello floating along behind him. To the questioning glances from the older assassins, he answered, "Farfie and the toilet paper didn't like each other."
"Didn't they?" Crawford hissed, at his wit's end.
Nagi was staring at one of the drink machines thoughtfully and he ignored that last comment. He pointed to the large picture on the side of the machine and said, "Ko-kou-ko-ra. Otherwise known as Coca-Cola, or simply Coke. In Chinese, it means 'bite the waxed tadpole'. Did you guys know that?" Crawford spared a glance at the large Coca-Cola image, then rolled his eyes in exasperation. It seemed EVERYONE had heard of the English-Chinese Coca-Cola conflict.
Schuldich only grinned cheekily at Crawford as the three of them joined the precog in the car, Nagi reluctantly sitting in the back this time. "Yeah. Those damned Americans. Can't get anything right. What about the Japanese Coke slogan, eh? 'I feel Coke and sound special.' Heh."
The only resident American glowered. Farfarello was now ranting about "stupid Americans" and their affiliation with God.
He should have predicted something like this would happen. He really
should have.
Schu straightened the road map importantly as soon as they were back on the highway. "All right, take that road...blah blah blah...bypass such and such...blah blah blah..."
Not really. But that's what it sounded like to poor Farf's ears. The dear psychopath was bored out of his mind--again, I might add. He was looking forward to this "Beast" that Schuldich spoke of--maybe his safety restraints would malfunction...he drooled at the thought. Sweet bliss.
But for the moment, there was no Beast, and nothing else remotely dangerous.
He occupied himself for a few minutes by abusing the back of Schuldich's seat with his foot, and when the German finally told him to stop (threatening not to buy him any cotton candy, and, mind you, that was the only reason Farfie complied), he resorted to seeing how hard he had to bite his fingers before they came off.
Days...no, hours...or minutes...? Sometime later, long after Farfarello had lost track of time, Nagi leaned around Crawford's seat to point and stare and murmur with utmost politeness, "Is that it?"
Crawford pushed his glasses up on his nose and almost smiled in relief. Almost.
Schuldich folded up the map roughly and shouted, "WE'RE HERE!"
The psycho in the backseat crooned his approval. Finally, he would come face to face with almost certain pain and/or death! (After all, he planned to ride all of the dangerous rides, and the probability that he would escape unscathed was, in his eyes, very slim. Hopefully.)
-TBC-
Author: Ionia Metallium-Greywers
Chapter: 2
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Gomen, I haven't gotten to write much in a while. Busy with school and all that, you all understand right? Plus, I'm busy with about 10-12 MLs, 2 of which I'm moderating, so...well, that's how it goes. ^^;; But since school's out for two-and-a-half to three months, all of that should change. ^^ Yay! Go me! *waves uncharacteristic pom-poms* Oh, and by the way, this fic is now officially a joint-author fic by me and NagiLite! (Who wrote the majority of this chapter. ) ^^ Yay!
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiß Kreuz, or any characters in the anime/manga/radio drama, or King's Island.
I was instructed to put this in. ^^
Warning: May induce stress-relieving/fatal laughter. Take in small doses once every few hours.
OK! On with the fic! ^^
-----
Crawford beeped the horn on the car. "Damnit, Schuldich, hurry up! I've already filled up the gas tank and paid!"
Schuldich snorted and leaned against the wall of the food-drink-and cigs building of the gas station. "I WOULD hurry, mein liebchen, but we're waiting on Farf."
Crawford twitched. "How long does it TAKE to go to the bathroom, anyway?!"
Schuldich was about to answer when there was a shrill shriek from said restroom, followed by Farfie's trademark Giggle of Insanity and a gleeful "This hurts God."
"What NOW?" Crawford asked--well, he would have asked, but before he could, Nagi was already staggering out of the bathroom, Farfarello floating along behind him. To the questioning glances from the older assassins, he answered, "Farfie and the toilet paper didn't like each other."
"Didn't they?" Crawford hissed, at his wit's end.
Nagi was staring at one of the drink machines thoughtfully and he ignored that last comment. He pointed to the large picture on the side of the machine and said, "Ko-kou-ko-ra. Otherwise known as Coca-Cola, or simply Coke. In Chinese, it means 'bite the waxed tadpole'. Did you guys know that?" Crawford spared a glance at the large Coca-Cola image, then rolled his eyes in exasperation. It seemed EVERYONE had heard of the English-Chinese Coca-Cola conflict.
Schuldich only grinned cheekily at Crawford as the three of them joined the precog in the car, Nagi reluctantly sitting in the back this time. "Yeah. Those damned Americans. Can't get anything right. What about the Japanese Coke slogan, eh? 'I feel Coke and sound special.' Heh."
The only resident American glowered. Farfarello was now ranting about "stupid Americans" and their affiliation with God.
He should have predicted something like this would happen. He really
should have.
Schu straightened the road map importantly as soon as they were back on the highway. "All right, take that road...blah blah blah...bypass such and such...blah blah blah..."
Not really. But that's what it sounded like to poor Farf's ears. The dear psychopath was bored out of his mind--again, I might add. He was looking forward to this "Beast" that Schuldich spoke of--maybe his safety restraints would malfunction...he drooled at the thought. Sweet bliss.
But for the moment, there was no Beast, and nothing else remotely dangerous.
He occupied himself for a few minutes by abusing the back of Schuldich's seat with his foot, and when the German finally told him to stop (threatening not to buy him any cotton candy, and, mind you, that was the only reason Farfie complied), he resorted to seeing how hard he had to bite his fingers before they came off.
Days...no, hours...or minutes...? Sometime later, long after Farfarello had lost track of time, Nagi leaned around Crawford's seat to point and stare and murmur with utmost politeness, "Is that it?"
Crawford pushed his glasses up on his nose and almost smiled in relief. Almost.
Schuldich folded up the map roughly and shouted, "WE'RE HERE!"
The psycho in the backseat crooned his approval. Finally, he would come face to face with almost certain pain and/or death! (After all, he planned to ride all of the dangerous rides, and the probability that he would escape unscathed was, in his eyes, very slim. Hopefully.)
-TBC-