\ Delta at your service because Tony has Sky Miles
The security guard stared at them as they walked in. Three kids, one with a pair of sleeping bags tied to his back, one carrying a backpack larger than him and with an umbrella tied to the top, and a girl. They were wearing an odd assortment of clothing- Sleeping bag boy had on a pair of much too long boxers, a Vans hat, a pair of socks, an over shirt, a red t-shirt that was tucked into the boxers and very, very baggy, and a pair of large flip- flops. The back pack boy was in a black shirt that was rolled up and held on by a belt at his waistline, a pair of black pants that were also rolled up and held on by a combination of belts and cross-strings, a yellow bandana and a pair of large flip-flops. The girl was in yellow, black, green and gray rags tied onto her with strings and a pair of large flip- flops.
Needless to say, the guard was quite confused.
"We got passed Security!" Carla said happily.
"Just the first round," Ryoga mumbled from experience.
"He was probably too startled to stop us anyway. That dude didn't have to turn us into children, y'know! I can't believe we stole three pairs of flip-flops!"
"'No shirt, no shoes, no service'," Ryoga quoted. "I'm just surprised you grabbed the wrong sizes."
"Forgive me if I'm used to 13 and a half, not 2!" Ryoga shrugged.
"Forget it. Our problem is explaining the ticket situation."
"Where's the problem in that? I did it over the phone. I'll call 'em up again and have them transfer it to two tickets for twelve year olds flying together. You go and get your free ride. First class. Bastid."
"Oh? And the fact that my passport says I'm 19? With my picture, at 19, back before you cut my hair and stuck this earring in me?"
"It looks cool, dude, don't knock it."
"That's not the point! The problem's that I have to be 19 to get a free ride, because they know when I was born and everything! That was part of the deal! See?" Ryoga held the papers out again. Indeed, he had to prove he who he was, and have his birth date double-checked so they could prove he was eligible for a free ticket.
"Shit, I gotta buy a third?"
"Yeah. Sorry. Unless Carla will stay here."
"Not until you change me back!"
"Settled then. Three tickets to Tokyo."
Tony flipped through the passport. "You're right, you do look rather different here. What was the point of wearing a headband if you just covered it up, man?" Ryoga snatched the passport away.
"I never have good photos!"
"Can I see your driver's license, then? I wanna see who's is worse."
"Argh!" Ryoga yelled at the stupidity of it all, banging his head against a wall and leaving a dent. Tony kept fishing through his backpack, because Tony liked to fish though his backpack. He pulled out a cell phone.
"Hey, why didn't you tell me you had this?" he called to Ryoga, who was banging his head again.
Ryoga looked up, saw the phone and replied, "It's only for emergencies."
Tony stared back at him. "And getting lost on the other side of the country's not an emergency?"
"Getting lost is never an emergency," Ryoga growled.
"Jesus fucking Christ, child." Tony turned it on, about to dial when he saw the number. "Ryo? Get over here."
Ryoga didn't listen. "Ryo!" he tried again, louder. "Ryoga! Oi, Hibiki! Ryoga Hibiki! Dammit, get over here and read this for me!" Tony threw the phone at him.
Ryoga caught it before it fell on the ground and shattered. "Phew."
"What's it say?" Tony asked as he walked over to him.
"I've had 19 calls since I last checked my messages," he translated. "Let's see." He pushed the check messages option.
"Mom," he explained as he listened. "She's saying she made me some dinner for when I come home. Sukiyaki."
"Ah. Is that good?"
"When it's fresh. Two months old, no."
"Eee."
"Yeah. Then this is. Oh shit, I gotta call back," he said quickly as he listened.
"What is it?"
"Ucchan. I asked about trying to start a restaurant chain, and this is the response."
"One of you friends in Japan?"
"Yeah. Owns an okonomiyaki place. We may go in business together. It's been decently effective every time we've teamed up before."
"You owning a restaurant? Could you find it?"
"Why do you think I begged for a job?" Ryoga scanned the other messages- Mostly just his parents checking up him. He speed dialed Ucchan's.
For the next two minutes, Tony wished he had subtitles. Carla came up mid-conversation. "Who's he talking to?"
"Some pal o' his back home."
"Oh? Is that Spanish or Chinese?"
"Huh?"
"He said he lived in Mexico and China."
"He's Japanese, girl! I mean, look at his passport, the boy lives in Tokyo!"
"He does not!" Ryoga sighed, holding the receiver of the phone so they wouldn't be sent over the line. "Guys, I have to finish this call. I may just get a partnership for a restaurant chain."
"What? You with a job?" Ryoga growled, fangs exposed.
"It says here he's American!" Carla laughed. "Not Japanese!"
"Child, read the fuckin' address forum!"
"He said he moved around a bit."
"Jesus fucking Christ, child."
"Could you both just SHUT UP?!" Ryoga yelled at them. "This is an important conversation!"
"Maybe your boy can have a little more patience, then. We gotta get to Japan when we're stuck as children. Without tickets."
"And it's all your fault, Dave!" Carla added. Ryoga sighed.
"Sorry."
"It's okay, I got sky miles. After all, Ryo-Chan, those clothes were pretty damn expensive." Tony smiled as he took the cell phone.
"Sayonara, Ucchan. Ryo-san has gotta go," he said into the receiver, hanging up before the other end could reply and dialing the Denver airport.
The security guard stared at them as they walked in. Three kids, one with a pair of sleeping bags tied to his back, one carrying a backpack larger than him and with an umbrella tied to the top, and a girl. They were wearing an odd assortment of clothing- Sleeping bag boy had on a pair of much too long boxers, a Vans hat, a pair of socks, an over shirt, a red t-shirt that was tucked into the boxers and very, very baggy, and a pair of large flip- flops. The back pack boy was in a black shirt that was rolled up and held on by a belt at his waistline, a pair of black pants that were also rolled up and held on by a combination of belts and cross-strings, a yellow bandana and a pair of large flip-flops. The girl was in yellow, black, green and gray rags tied onto her with strings and a pair of large flip- flops.
Needless to say, the guard was quite confused.
"We got passed Security!" Carla said happily.
"Just the first round," Ryoga mumbled from experience.
"He was probably too startled to stop us anyway. That dude didn't have to turn us into children, y'know! I can't believe we stole three pairs of flip-flops!"
"'No shirt, no shoes, no service'," Ryoga quoted. "I'm just surprised you grabbed the wrong sizes."
"Forgive me if I'm used to 13 and a half, not 2!" Ryoga shrugged.
"Forget it. Our problem is explaining the ticket situation."
"Where's the problem in that? I did it over the phone. I'll call 'em up again and have them transfer it to two tickets for twelve year olds flying together. You go and get your free ride. First class. Bastid."
"Oh? And the fact that my passport says I'm 19? With my picture, at 19, back before you cut my hair and stuck this earring in me?"
"It looks cool, dude, don't knock it."
"That's not the point! The problem's that I have to be 19 to get a free ride, because they know when I was born and everything! That was part of the deal! See?" Ryoga held the papers out again. Indeed, he had to prove he who he was, and have his birth date double-checked so they could prove he was eligible for a free ticket.
"Shit, I gotta buy a third?"
"Yeah. Sorry. Unless Carla will stay here."
"Not until you change me back!"
"Settled then. Three tickets to Tokyo."
Tony flipped through the passport. "You're right, you do look rather different here. What was the point of wearing a headband if you just covered it up, man?" Ryoga snatched the passport away.
"I never have good photos!"
"Can I see your driver's license, then? I wanna see who's is worse."
"Argh!" Ryoga yelled at the stupidity of it all, banging his head against a wall and leaving a dent. Tony kept fishing through his backpack, because Tony liked to fish though his backpack. He pulled out a cell phone.
"Hey, why didn't you tell me you had this?" he called to Ryoga, who was banging his head again.
Ryoga looked up, saw the phone and replied, "It's only for emergencies."
Tony stared back at him. "And getting lost on the other side of the country's not an emergency?"
"Getting lost is never an emergency," Ryoga growled.
"Jesus fucking Christ, child." Tony turned it on, about to dial when he saw the number. "Ryo? Get over here."
Ryoga didn't listen. "Ryo!" he tried again, louder. "Ryoga! Oi, Hibiki! Ryoga Hibiki! Dammit, get over here and read this for me!" Tony threw the phone at him.
Ryoga caught it before it fell on the ground and shattered. "Phew."
"What's it say?" Tony asked as he walked over to him.
"I've had 19 calls since I last checked my messages," he translated. "Let's see." He pushed the check messages option.
"Mom," he explained as he listened. "She's saying she made me some dinner for when I come home. Sukiyaki."
"Ah. Is that good?"
"When it's fresh. Two months old, no."
"Eee."
"Yeah. Then this is. Oh shit, I gotta call back," he said quickly as he listened.
"What is it?"
"Ucchan. I asked about trying to start a restaurant chain, and this is the response."
"One of you friends in Japan?"
"Yeah. Owns an okonomiyaki place. We may go in business together. It's been decently effective every time we've teamed up before."
"You owning a restaurant? Could you find it?"
"Why do you think I begged for a job?" Ryoga scanned the other messages- Mostly just his parents checking up him. He speed dialed Ucchan's.
For the next two minutes, Tony wished he had subtitles. Carla came up mid-conversation. "Who's he talking to?"
"Some pal o' his back home."
"Oh? Is that Spanish or Chinese?"
"Huh?"
"He said he lived in Mexico and China."
"He's Japanese, girl! I mean, look at his passport, the boy lives in Tokyo!"
"He does not!" Ryoga sighed, holding the receiver of the phone so they wouldn't be sent over the line. "Guys, I have to finish this call. I may just get a partnership for a restaurant chain."
"What? You with a job?" Ryoga growled, fangs exposed.
"It says here he's American!" Carla laughed. "Not Japanese!"
"Child, read the fuckin' address forum!"
"He said he moved around a bit."
"Jesus fucking Christ, child."
"Could you both just SHUT UP?!" Ryoga yelled at them. "This is an important conversation!"
"Maybe your boy can have a little more patience, then. We gotta get to Japan when we're stuck as children. Without tickets."
"And it's all your fault, Dave!" Carla added. Ryoga sighed.
"Sorry."
"It's okay, I got sky miles. After all, Ryo-Chan, those clothes were pretty damn expensive." Tony smiled as he took the cell phone.
"Sayonara, Ucchan. Ryo-san has gotta go," he said into the receiver, hanging up before the other end could reply and dialing the Denver airport.