4.Every Dog Has His Day
In the Castle garage, Cid was working on a new machine. Unlike everyone else in the Castle, Cid was usually up dark and early before dawn. He was using his alone time today in an effort to create a robotic bodyguard. Since he had no prior plans as to the weapons it would carry, he simply tried out random objects until he found the right ones.
"Yeah, that shotgun fits perfectly right… here. Dante'll never miss it. Oh, and this tank of compressed air, when combined with some of Tidus' knobby Blitzballs, will make a perfect addition to my precious baby. Yes, yes… one of Tifa's boxing gloves, when a spring is added, will be extremely helpful…"
Of course, Cid would not merely limit himself to using the contraption only in self-defense. Why, the possibilities for mischief and mayhem were simply too great to let go. Besides, some people he could name deserved a little rough treatment.
"Ah… now she is complete. All that is left to do now is find the damn power switch…"
As Cid fumbled with the machine, he did not notice a dark shape stalking him through the early morning darkness.
"God dammit all! Is it too much to ask that the damn power switch be within easier reach?" Cid did not stop to remember that he had put the power switch on himself.
The figure drew ever closer. A dagger glinted faintly in the gloom. Closer… closer…
"Of all the frikkin'…! Oh, here it is."
One flick later, the machine hummed to life. After a moment spent booting up and checking for errors, it scanned the surrounding area for its creator. It found him dancing around in little circles just in front of it. It also found an intruder creeping up on the creator with some form of weapon in hand.
Immediately a huge spotlight lit the attacker up, revealing it to be Zidane, who blinked owlishly in the bright light, trying desperately to regain his sight. Almost before Cid could turn around to see who was trying to rob him, a shotgun blast rang out. Zidane barely managed to dodge it, and was still a little off-balance when a large knobby Blitzball caught him squarely in the stomach, doubling him over. Before Zidane could even crawl away or Cid could applause, Tifa's boxing glove shot out and hit Zidane a resounding uppercut to the chin. The force of this last blow was sufficient to send him flying out the window. That the window was closed and barred with titanium rods was irrelevant. That Zidane went out it was what mattered. After this favorable display of ability, the robot proceeded to go into standby mode, which could last anywhere from five minutes to forever. Time has no meaning to a machine.
"Son of a bitch! It works! I never dreamed it would be so fast! But of course, it is understandable, seeing as I am the best mechanic in the world. I'm so damn bad it hurts." Cid resumed his little victory dance.
"Ahem."
Cid turned around to see Dante, Tidus, and Tifa standing in the doorway, with generally angry faces all around. "Oh shit! I mean, uh… Hi guys, erm, what's up?" he stuttered.
"You know good and damn well what's up." Dante said, "I distinctly heard my shotgun go off in here. And, seeing that… thing in the corner, I can't help but think that you just might've put my shotgun somewhere within."
"I second that," Tidus seconded, "as I heard a Blitzball strike someone with considerable force in this room. Judging by the sound of the hit and the average Blitzball bounce physics when out of the water, I'd say that the unfortunate person on the receiving end of the ball was small of frame and lightweight, most probably Zidane."
"I third that," Tifa thirded, "as I too heard one of my possessions sound off in this room. Namely a heavy-duty steel-reinforced boxing glove that, judging by the size of the hole in yonder window, probably was the last blow to the victim – who is, like Tidus said, most likely Zidane – that sent him out of the aforementioned window."
"And you can both tell all that just by the sounds you heard and the shattered window? Tell me, how do you do it?" Cid asked.
"Don't try to change the subject, you old fart," Dante grated, "As I said before, you know what we're here for." Cid, grumbling to himself darkly about how all these lower life forms were going to pay for this insult, proceeded to detach the, ah, "acquired" articles of property from his machine and return them to their rightful owners.
"Thanks a lot," Tidus said flatly.
"Yeah yeah, go on, git outta here afore I put this lance to its intended use," Cid snarled. When they failed to acknowledge his order and move, he tried again. "Scram! Beat it! I have other things to do besides look at your ugly mugs all day."
"Well, you see, Cid, we've been waiting for you to move out of the way so that we can get at your newest creation," Tifa explained.
"And just why in the hell should I let you fools anywhere near my precious?"
"You're going to have to do a whole lot of seeing to understand this one, Cid, but whether you understand it or not, we are going to destroy your machine," Tidus clarified.
This took a moment to sink in. "Excuse me, could you speak into my good ear, please? I thought I just heard you say that you were going to destroy my little girl," Cid said disbelievingly, "Because if you are actually entertaining the notion of committing such an atrocity, I would have to kick all your pansy asses into next week."
"Out of my way, geezer!" Dante shouted.
"Get bent!" came the cheerful response.
And so, in a battle that woke up the entire Castle, Cid valiantly attempted to defend his latest work from the ravages of the three avengers, who, unwittingly, were doing the entire community a favor. In the end, all that was left of the "little girl" were a few pieces of scrap metal, while Cid was laid out wounded on the floor.
"I hereby damn you all to the deepest, darkest hells imaginable…" he coughed.
"Ah, you'll get over it," Dante said carelessly, uncaring as to Cid's feelings.
And so Cid was left to sob his eyes out on the floor. But, true to Dante's prediction, he was over the loss of his best work by midday. That's not to say he wasn't still sore about it though. Unlike certain other Castle inhabitants, Cid had a long memory.
Later, at midday…
Cid shuffled on down the hall, his hands buried in his pockets and his shoulders hunched sullenly. Those stupid fools just didn't realize the joy it gave him to create machines sprung from his own imagination. They were so jealous of him and his creativity that they would rather he not make anything at all than have his masterpieces scattered about the Castle as testament to their mechanical ignorance. Yes, that must be it.
A low growl dragged Cid forcibly from his thoughts. He stopped and stared at a Blade in the middle of the hall. The Blade itself was unremarkable, but the fact that it was out in the open and so brazenly threatening Cid was certainly unusual.
"And just what the hell do you want, freak?" Cid demanded in his gruffest voice. Maybe he could scare it into leaving. However, this particular Blade was not so easily frightened, making it even more of an anomaly. As Cid wondered what this creature had eaten to make it so brave – or stupid – a Marionette clattered up behind it and brandished its crescent blade.
"You both lookin' for a beat-down?" Cid asked, "Cause I got plenty of pain to share!" As another puppet approached, Cid was reminded of the last time such an event had occurred. Abnormally brave monsters had begun molesting the Castle inhabitants just before a monster revolt had exploded.
The slavering Blade leapt at Cid. He parried its lunge easily with his lance, and countered with an upward thrust. The unfortunate monster slumped to the ground, gurgling, in a pool of its own blood. Cid quickly whirled to block a Marionette from disemboweling him. He speared his latest contender where its heart would have been if it were alive, and, while keeping the body skewered on his lance, used it as a shield.
Yep, another monster uprising was in full swing, and this one was a nasty one in that caught almost everyone in the Castle separated from the others. This translated, for all the loners in the Castle, into an opportunity to go back to the "good ol' days" of battling alone, with only their wits and skill keeping their hides in one piece.
But things were steadily going downhill for Cid, as he seemed to be the closest to the source of the revolt. If he didn't find help soon, his chances at living to a ripe old age were pretty grim. But Cid lived for moments like this, and chomped down resolutely on his cigarette as he fought doggedly on. His shield was finally torn away, and he was forced to go on the offensive to stay alive. The world became cut, slash, dodge, thrust, whirl, guard, kick, and punch for Cid. His cigarette was clipped out of his mouth by a Marionette's blade. That the puppet got close enough to take a swipe at him was a sure sign that Cid was tiring. Finally, just as a shotgun-toting marionette was about to give him a few new holes to sport in front of the others, a long burst of fully automatic gunfire sprayed down the hall, mowing down enemies left, right, and center. Despite his fatigue, Cid still had the presence of mind to hit the dirt. When the firing ceased, Cid chanced a look around and saw Barret marching down the hall, with his gun arm smoking almost as much as Cid himself. This reminded Cid of his lost cigarette, and he lit up a new one.
"Took your time getting here," Cid complained.
"Yeah, yeah. Jus' be grateful I even bothered to save yer old, wrinkly ass," Barret retorted.
"I'll let that remark slide this time, you young whipper-snapper, but only because I am weary due to the fact that I was actually fighting for my life, unlike you with your sissy gun arm."
"It saved yo ass, didden it? Anyway, do ya still have yo communicator?"
"Nah, it was smashed when a stupid Blade decided it would make a good snack. I convinced him that my lance would be a much tastier treat."
Barret winced slightly at the rather disturbing mental image this statement put in his mind. "Damn. Well, we'd betta get movin' and find someone who does have one. We need to regroup."
"You're telling me. Have you seen anyone else?"
"If I had, I wouldn't be here wastin' my time on you. Lets go."
"All righty, then."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"You've just gotta have the last word, doncha?"
"Yup."
Cid and Barret moved off down the corridor, alert for an attack or a call for help. After passing through several empty rooms, the delightful melody of combat at its peak reached their ears. In the next room, they found Zidane, with at least thirty enemy corpses packing the immediate vicinity around him.
"Ah, how I love the occasional fight," Zidane wheezed, "This one, however, will probably go down as one of the most infamous in my book. I was actually surprised. Now… I think I need a nap…" He then fell out full-length (such as it is) on the floor.
Barret looked him over. "Well, blow me down. The little thief took a pretty good bit o' punishment here. Might actually need medical attention." He shook his head. "We'd better bring him 'round."
"I'll take care of that," Cid said helpfully. He grabbed Zidane by the collar and shook him roughly. When Zidane continued to snore, Cid took out a small bottle of smelling salts from a pocket in his vest. "I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use this…" he sighed regretfully, and shoved the bottle, uncorked, up Zidane's nose.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHCHOOOOOOOO!!!" Zidane's sneeze rattled the windows. "You fool!" he coughed, "Do you have any… any… aaaAAAHHHHCHOOOOO!" After a few sniffles, Zidane continued, "Do you have… any idea how strong… that stuff is? There's enough in that one bottle to make even Ganondorf allergic to it!"
"Really? I thought it was just some kind of extremely strong whiskey," Cid replied innocently. Barret snickered. Oh all right, Barret outright guffawed.
When he finally was able to bring himself under control, Barret said: "Ahem… Zidane, do ya still have yo' communicator?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"We need it to get in touch with the others. Hand it over."
Zidane didn't like the tone in Barret's voice, nor did he like being ordered around. "What if I don't want to?"
"I'll bludgeon yo head in with my gun arm. Then Cid will have a go at ya."
Zidane recalled a saying that a wise man had once told him. 'The willowy weed bends to escape destruction, while the proud oak is toppled by the storm.' "Okay, okay. Jeez, don't get your knickers in a knot."
Cid relieved Zidane of his comm. unit and dialed up the emergency frequency, which overrode all other frequencies currently being used. "Hey, fools! If anyone's still got a comm., respond within the next five minutes or I'll fart over the air!"
The first voice to come back was Fox's. "Good God, Cid! Don't even joke about something like that!"
"I'll joke about whatever I damn well please. Speaking of Bill Gate's spawning grounds, where in it are you?"
Static. Just as Cid was going to carry out his threat, Fox replied, "Floor 6, Room 8. If you feel like a fight, you'd better get here quick!" In the background, Cid could hear fighting and much cursing. It sounded like world-class devil hunter Dante was in his element.
Barret had a map. "Floor 6, hmmm… 3,4,5, ah here it is. Now for Room 8…" In times of crisis, rooms like the kitchen lost their names and were called by number so as to prevent screw-ups. "Shit on it! Where's Room 8? Damn *BLEEPED*ed up numbering system…"
Cid snatched the map from Barret's grasp. "Look here, idiot! It's right there, and we're right there. Now, if your limited intelligence will permit it, tell me the quickest way up there."
Barret studied the map carefully a moment, then stated with much aplomb, "Straight up!"
Cid and Zidane stared for a minute. "Pardon?" Cid asked.
"Yeah! See, if we're where you say we are on dis map, Fox is in the room right over us!"
"Hot damn! So he is! But, Barret, did you think far enough into your brilliant plan to figure out how we get through at least three feet of solid stone?"
Now only Zidane stared from one to the other disbelievingly. "Don't tell me you guys are actually planning on blasting through that ceiling?"
"Our esteemed colleague Zidane has jus' supplied us with an solution," Barret answered Cid, "I'll just put ol' Betsy into overdrive here…" His gun arm began revving up.
In the room above, Fox and Dante were mopping up when a large crack appeared in the floor under them.
"What the hell do you think that is?" Dante asked.
"I ain't got a clue. But it would seem that someone wants up," Fox replied, "Perhaps we'd better move."
And move they did. About fifteen seconds later a large hole was blown in the floor. Barret, Cid, and Zidane climbed up through.
"See? Told ya they'd be here," Barret crowed.
"Um, Barret? You realize that you are going to pay for that hole in the floor, don't you?" Dante inquired pleasantly, "It'll be about $1,500 for damages and $2,500 for the labor I'll have to go through watching you fix it."
"Why don't you kiss my-" But Barret was cut off when the floor started to shake violently.
"What in God's name…?!" Cid asked of God, for lack of anyone else better to ask.
"That, oh smoking one, is the sound of a rather large boss type creature coming 'round the mountain," the Head Man answered.
"What mountain?" asked Zidane.
"It was a figure of speech, you brainless dolt," the Smiting One replied.
"Oh."
"Here it comes!" Dante called.
And come it did, with dramatic smoke, lights, and explosions to boot. It had huge horns, lots of teeth, glaring red eyes, hooves for feet, hooks for hands, a tail with a spiked ball on the end, coarse bristles covering its body, and… "Here I am!" it squeaked.
… A hilariously high, squeaky voice. Fox was the first to snicker. Then Cid, then Dante, then Barret and Zidane.
"Stop laughing! It's not funny! My voice only sounds like this because some worthless underling of mine decided it would be great fun to have me breathe helium in my sleep right before the big attack!" it squealed.
Hearty bellows of laughter followed this statement, which infuriated the boss to no end.
"Bastards! Take this!"
And so the fight began. Despite it's laughably shrill voice, the boss proved a worthy opponent. It started off with a lunge at Dante, who knew from painful experience that one does not stand in the way of large monsters moving rapidly in one's direction. He sidestepped, and when the boss ploughed into the wall behind him, proceeded to take advantage of Boss Boy's undignified position by slashing its vulnerable backside repeatedly, leaving many bright red marks, but no real harm to it on the whole.
"Son of a BITCH!" Bossy's voice rose a couple of octaves, "You'll pay for that!" it pulled its head from the wall and whirled, only to be met by a barrage of bullets and lasers, courtesy of Barret and Fox. Most bounced harmlessly off his thick head, but one laser put out an eye. "Damn you!"
Zidane leapt on Bossy's back like some kind of wild monkey and yelled right down its rather sensitive ear, "Guess WHO!" He then went on to cause a much pain as possible to the boss by slicing at its throat as often and deeply as he could. He managed a few good gashes, but was finally forced off the thing's back when it smashed into a wall and scraped him off on a window ledge.
"All right, that's it! I've had enough of you cretins!" Bossy shrilled. When Dante charged, it picked him up and used his momentum to heave him onto a table, which immediately collapsed and left Dante winded. Zidane got a running start and threw himself at Bossy again, but was clipped out of the air by one of its hooks. "HA! Take that, losers!"
"Hey, Lucy Belle!" Cid shouted, "You forgot me!" As the newly provoked monster turned around, Cid flipped him the bird. "You couldn't take me if I had one hand tied behind my back, bitch!"
"Bitch" roared, (well, squawked) and charged Cid, arms flailing. The two dueled fiercely for a moment, pausing only when Cid speared the boss's ankle something nasty. "Owowowowowowwww!" exclaimed the monster, "Damn! Shit! That hurts to all hell and back! Owowowow!" It was now hopping around on one foot.
Cid decided it was time to bust out his ace in the hole. "Up!" he shouted as he leapt at Bitch the Boss's head. "Over!" as he sailed over the boss and kicked off the wall behind it. "And GONE!" when he back- flipped and drove his spear into the back of Bitch Boy's skull. Blood spurted, brains splattered, and bone crunched as Cid's lance drove its way through the head and jutted out of the good eye. The monstrosity crumpled in a heap, with Cid still dangling from the shaft of his lance.
Cid jerked his bloodied weapon out of the monster. "Damn, I'm good!" he said as he strutted all around the room, posing ridiculously all the while. "Yeah! YEAH, all you worthless pukes! Who's the man? Huh? HUH? I smoked his ass so hard and fast he was still on fire when he got to hell! Oh yeah! Dante is still squatting against the wall out of breath, Zidane is incapacitated in one blow, and Fox and Barret's sissy little guns were no use because I was in the way! But I, Cid Highwind, took that mother to SCHOOL! That's another point for old age! Down twenty points for young jackasses everywhere! Do you hear me world? I AM CID HIGHWIND! HEAR ME ROAR!"
The scene zoomed out to show the whole world"RRRROOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHH- ack!" Cid's mighty roar was interrupted by a fit of coughing. "God damn dust…"
And so it was that Cid proved his worth to the entire Castle. His ability was never in doubt again. At least, not to those who were in the room when Cid went downtown on the boss. This included Dante, Zidane, Fox, and Barret. The other men and women were never quite sure whether to believe them or not, somewhat lessening his victory.