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EVANGELION + UNPLUGGED
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By RENEGADE: renegade_y2j@hotmail.com
ACT 02: THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE FUGLY
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in his grave, but his soul goes marching on, just like this story.
Ritsuko Akagi was down in the secret, ominous lab deep below Central Dogma. It was the room with the dummy plug system. Rei Ayanami currently floated in the LCL-filled tube like a sleeping tablet in a beer, only she didn't dissolve. Ritsuko studied her, ticking things off on her clipboard, surrounded by a few of her favourite cats.
The elevator doors opened with a whoosh and Gendo Ikari materialized beside her. "Doctor," he greeted her formally, pushing his glasses up his nose. "What are you doing with Rei today?"
"Psychoanalysing," Ritsuko said absently, making another tick.
Gendo paused for a moment. "Psychoanalysing," he repeated uncertainly. "Psychoanalysing is good."
Ritsuko sighed. "It's when we see what's going on in her brain." She muttered under her breath, "cat boner."
Ikari brightened. "Oh... good."
He moved over and unscrewed the little bottle he had picked up from the nearby desk. Reaching up, he tipped a few of the flakes into the LCL and Rei happily swum up to the top of the tube and nibbled them.
"We should get her one of those little castles," Ikari commented.
"There'd be no room for it. The space is taken up by that stupid diver that blows bubbles."
"I suppose." Ikari booted away one of the cats that happened to be gazing at the girl with a rather hungry look on its face as she clambered out of the tube. "How are you, Rei?" he asked.
"Fine," she replied in her soft voice.
"Are you feeling well?"
"Yes."
"Do you need anything?"
"No."
"Have you been doing your schoolwork?"
"Yes."
"Do you need to take time off school?"
"No."
Gendo Ikari paused.
"Is there a rumour that Steven Spielberg has taken an interest in doing a Tintin film?"
"Yes."
"Was it ever proved that the US government was introducing strange chemicals into the water supply?"
"No."
"Is Rage Against the Machine's best album The Battle of Los Angeles?"
"Yes."
"Are Museli Bars actually good for you?"
"No."
"Was Xipototec worshipped by the Aztecs as the God of Pain?"
"Yes."
"Did England deserve to lose to Brazil last World Cup?"
"No."
"Are there no facts, only interpretation?"
"Yes."
"Was the X-Files season finale satisfying?"
"No."
"If a tree falls in the forest and there's no one around to hear it, does it still make a sound?"
"Yes."
Ikari leaned back, supremely satisfied. "Then you may have the rest of the day off, Rei. We will return here tomorrow. For now, you are free to go."
Rei nodded silently.
"Why don't you go see Shinji, Asuka and Misato at their new apartment?" asked Ritsuko brightly.
Rei blinked. She seemed to have about as much energy as anaesthetized sloth. Still, she thought, maybe she ought to go and see her comrades. After all, her apartment had been accidentally bulldozed the week before and she hadn't bothered to tell anyone yet. It wasn't as if she could go home.
"Yes," said Rei.
* * *
"What a dump," Shinji muttered.
"Aw, it's not that bad," Misato replied cheerily.
"What!?" screamed Asuka. "Not that bad!? Misato, watch this!" The volatile redhead quickly stormed into the kitchen and grabbed the rubbish bin. In one swift motion she upturned it and scattered filthy rubbish all over the floor.
"Wow," Shinji murmured. Pen-Pen blinked. The state of the floor had actually improved.
"Yeah, okay, so it's a cesspit," Misato admitted.
She wasn't wrong. The carpet was brown and stringy, the walls were painted a garish yellow and purple and there was dirt and grime on every surface. Litter permeated every single inch of the place and there was a rather unpleasant lingering odour of bodily fluids and rotting flesh.
"I'm sure we can get it cleaned up in no time!" Misato said brightly. "Let's look at our rooms!"
The three of them trudged to Misato's bedroom first, Shinji noticing twelve pairs of yellowed, highly-intelligent looking yet decidedly alien eyes peering at him from a large crack in the wall. He vaguely wondered if there was a ground floor in hell.
They arrived at the end of the wretched hallway and pushed - heaved - open the door to Misato's room.
"Looks fine to me!" their guardian said happily.
Asuka stared at her incredulously. "The gigantic cockroach lying on your bed and spanking the monkey over a pornographic magazine doesn't bother you?" she asked. The insect in question glanced up a little guiltily but did not cease its impure activities.
Misato frowned. "Oi!" she yelled. "Get out!"
The cockroach blatantly flipped her off with one of its free hands.
"Right, that does it." The Major drew her NERV-issue handgun but before she could do anything, the cockroach let out a shrill shriek and scuttled over to the wall where it squeezed into a crack. Another burly-looking thug of a cockroach appeared from within the crack and began to advance smugly towards them.
As Misato raised her gun, the cockroach catapulted itself into the air and did a somersault towards the woman, knocking her gun away before landing and assuming a fighting stance.
Misato cracked her knuckles grimly as Shinji and Asuka looked on, fascinated. The insect charged with a blood-curdling war cry but Misato was too quick. Months of hand-to-hand combat training at NERV paid off and she smoothly spun about, flipped the bug over her shoulder and out through the window in an explosion of glass. It plummeted wailing to the street below, where it impaled itself on the spiked iron fence.
Shinji blinked. He could see several groups of cockroach eyes glaring hatefully at his guardian from various dingy cracks in the walls.
"Cockroach HQ is now under the control of the Katsuragi Empire!" bellowed Misato triumphantly, gazing back into the insects' baleful stares. "And this is no democracy! There will be tribute and sacrifice demanded!"
"My room next," said Asuka.
When they opened the door to the redhead's bedroom, it was strangely bare and plain apart from a faint smell of rodent. Wandering in, Asuka's eyes bugged as she took in the vile yellowed plaster and creaking floorboards.
"Oh man, this really sucks!" she moaned.
"Come on, Asuka," Shinji smiled weakly. "As long as we can stick together, we can overcome any obstacle, right?"
"Hey, this is real life, not some cheesy Emilio Estevez ice hockey movie..."
Pen-Pen began squawking rhythmically. "Waark, waark, waark, waark, waark, waaaaark..."
"Go Ducks!" cheered Misato.
"Exactly!" gasped Asuka, diving to the floor just before a missile streaked over their heads and blasted through the living room window.
Advancing was a huge rat in some kind of heavy-duty battlesuit. Chittering, it narrowed its eyes and flipped a few levers, levelling its laser cannons at the intruders.
"Scatter!" shouted Misato. They dashed off in different directions and the cannons were unable to follow their movements. The rodent squeaked in frustration and focused on Asuka, who was closer than the others.
"Scheiss," the redhead muttered, diving into a roll as machinegun fire peppered the walls around her, blasting chunks from the yellowing plaster. Suddenly, she tripped and fell flat on her face in front of the walking mechanical nightmare.
The vermin leered victoriously and punched down the button labelled HEAT SEEKER. With a rumble, the rocket launched and bore straight down on a wide-eyed Asuka.
"Oh no you don't," she snapped. Leaping to her feet, she dived under the rocket and scrambled between the legs of the battlesuit. The rocket spun on its axis and locked onto the new heat source while Asuka pressed herself into the floorboards, covering her head with her hands. The rat squeaked in dismay as the rocket streaked towards it.
All that was left afterwards was a few mechanical parts, some charred spots on the floor and a faint smell of overcooked rodent. Asuka rose to her feet and glared victoriously when she heard the gradually retreating sound of sulky chittering from beyond the walls. She turned.
"I hate this place, Misato!" she howled angrily.
"Oh, come on," her guardian admonished her, shaking a finger. Shinji stood behind her, dusting himself off. "I don't have it any worse."
"Are you kidding!?" the redhead snarled. "You only have to deal with a pervert cockroach crime boss, but I have a twisted race of superhumanly genius vermin sharing my room!"
"Let's have a look at your bedroom, Shinji," Misato said, patting him on the shoulder and ignoring Asuka.
"Nothing?" frowned Asuka.
"Nothing!" replied Misato cheerfully.
"Nothing," confirmed Shinji, checking the corners.
"Well, that's fair enough," Misato reasoned. "After all, this was the room used by the late Boris Saronovich before his, er, accident."
Shinji perked up. "Oh, good!"
Misato smiled at him while Asuka sulked. "Now," the Major said in a businesslike tone. "Both of you are to go out and find jobs as soon as possible. I want to hear of your proceedings tonight, all right?"
"But I was going out with Touji and Kensuke later," whined Shinji.
"Well, whatever you want, but you still have to get a job," Misato warned. "Remember that we have to go see Ritsuko tomorrow for a progress update."
The two pilots sighed. "Yes, ma'am."
Misato and Asuka retreated, leaving Shinji alone with Pen-Pen in his new room. He stood in the center and took in the squeaky mattress on the floor (stained with... well, he didn't want to know), the melancholy 20-watt light bulb swinging forlornly in the breeze that floated through the cracked glass window and the tattered posters of naked ladies in interesting poses that lined the walls.
Shinji Ikari sighed at his bad luck, watching idly as a robin fluttered to the windowsill and began chirping happily, only to be reduced to a gore-streaked skeleton in a matter of moments when the miniscule bacterial inhabitants of the room swarmed over it like a cancer.
Suddenly, a loose floorboard caught his eye.
Curiously, the Third Child moved over to examine it, and found that the board was in fact designed to be removed. Heaving slightly, he pulled up the rotted timber and discovered three interesting things.
One was a leather jacket, another was a Russian-made Kalashnikov AK-47 and the third was several bags of mysterious white powder. Frowning, Shinji pulled them out as Pen-Pen peered curiously over his shoulder. Possessions of the late Mr Boris Saronovich of the Russian Mafia, it seemed.
He nodded approvingly at the leather jacket and slipped it on. Almost the right size.
Shinji then picked up the rifle. "I can't kill another human being," he announced, and handed it to the penguin beside him, who squawked his gratitude and slung it on his back.
Blinking, Shinji then withdrew the white powder. "Weird," he muttered as he saw the label, which said COLOMBIAN A-GRADE. He was about to sniff it when Pen-Pen snatched it away and shook his head warningly. "Hey!" Shinji yelled crossly, yanking it back. "I found it - oh, damn," he started as he saw his watch. "I'm supposed to meet Touji and Kensuke. I'll see you later!"
Shinji sprinted out the door, the packet of contraband still tucked under his arm. He left behind a penguin with a very devilish look on its face.
* * *
Asuka refused to spend one more minute in that house than she had to, and so had decided to pick up the day's paper in hopes of finding a job. The sooner they had the money, she reasoned, the sooner they could burn this place to the ground and go home.
So, here she was in a downtown ice-cream parlour, her favourite chocolate dessert before her (it was Death By Chocolate, but Asuka's carelessly spent NERV credit had convinced the store owner to upgrade it to a veritable Racial Cleansing By Chocolate), leaning over the Tokyo-3 news. Today's headline was: George W. Bush Junior gets head stuck in White House gate while in Detroit, swimming. Al-Quaeda involvement suspected.
Flipping to the classifieds, she briefly scanned down the columns.
"Let's see..." Asuka mused thoughtfully. "Not a lot here... wait, what's this? Escorts required. Hmm... I guess that's like a bodyguard. Nah, that's Shinji's thing," she snickered. "What else... council worker? Pay too low. Plumber's apprentice? Too many hair-filled butt-cracks involved. Government assassin? Too high profile for someone with my modesty."
Asuka sighed. "This is getting nowhere. Oh... wait." She frowned and leaned over. "Highly talented, highly skilled upstanding person with boundless zeal and enthusiasm required for elitist position at one of Tokyo-3's most highly-regarded restaurants. Well!" smiled Asuka with satisfaction. "I think I've just found myself a job. I'll go right down there now. Hmm... what's the address, here..."
* * *
Misato was left alone in their wonderful new home. This did not really trouble her; while it was more fun with several companions, drinking was satisfying on its own as well.
She stalked towards the fridge and pressed up against its side, narrowing her eyes. Patiently she waited… until, at exactly the right moment, she spun on her heel, threw open the door and pointed her gun inside, yelling, "Freeze, Yebisu!"
She warily watched the contents of her beer fridge, gun barrel never straying a hairline away from its target. "I have you now," the Major said smugly, then frowned. "What's that? I'm not good enough to fight you on equal terms? Well, all right then!" she yelled, tossing her gun away. "It's just you and me, Yebisu!"
Grabbing the beer can fiercely, Misato struggled to subdue it. Together, Misato and the Yebisu wrestled desperately on the filthy kitchen floor.
"You… cannot… win!" Misato yelled victoriously, finally pinning the beer to the ground. "Ha!"
She cracked the top off and tilted the can back, gulping the contents down with bloodthirsty fervor.
Misato wins, came the booming voice. Fatality.
* * *
"So, Kensuke, exactly what are you going to do with this cannon?" demanded Touji.
The smaller boy peered over the top of his glasses as he lovingly stroked the weapon. "What am I going to do with it?" he repeated haughtily. "My dear Mr Suzahara... what aren't I going to do with it?"
"I would imagine that there are only so many uses you could find for an eight-meter long cannon from a UN battleship, Kensuke," Shinji ventured, running his fingers along the cold metal barrel.
"Well, yes, all right," Kensuke admitted, jamming his little finger in his ear and wiggling it. "Look, I called you out here so that we can shoot it! You know, baptism of fire and all that."
They were on Kensuke's roof. The massive cannon pointed defiantly into the sky as if it were the apartment block's middle finger. Shinji and Touji listened faithfully as Kensuke delivered a sermon plugging the unlimited 'good points' of this particular cannon, which he had bought at an auction during the military's Open Day.
"And did you know, when this cannon was on the battleship, it was trained directly on St. Petersburg for three years?" the otaku said excitedly.
"Wow," Shinji commented, sticking his hands in the pockets of his new leather jacket. "Imagine that. St. Petersburg."
There was an ominous squeal as Touji's brain shifted into overdrive. This was not always a good sign as it often meant he lost the ability to concentrate on weighty matters such as breathing, but this time he seemed all right.
The jock's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Isn't that when they cut off your wedding tackle with a pair of nail clippers?"
There was a deathly silence.
"St. Petersburg is a city in Russia that was formerly known as Leningrad," Shinji said carefully. "What are you talking about?"
"You know," Touji snapped, annoyed. "That thing when they hold your old fella real tight in one hand. And slice it off with the other."
"When they..." Shinji began, hopelessly lost.
"Behead the soldier."
"Er..." Kensuke started hesitantly. "I think you might be thinking of circumcision, a custom performed by the Jewish community which involves the painless removal of a male's foreskin at birth..."
During the ensuing pause, Shinji desperately tried to recognise any possible connection Touji might have made between St. Petersburg and circumcision, and failed.
Miserably.
"What's it called again?" Touji rumbled when he had digested this new information.
"Circumcision."
"Wasn't he the guy in E.T.?"
"Look," Kensuke said, surrendering. "Do you want to help me fire this thing, or do you just want to stand there being a cat boner?"
"Okay, okay," his fellow Stooge grumbled. "Shinji?"
"Yeah, I'll help. What do we do?"
"All you have to do is don'tdothat!" Kensuke yelled, making Shinji jump back in alarm. "If you press that, it'll getawayfromthere!" Touji guiltily stumbled backwards, a sheepish look on his face. "All right then," Kensuke growled. "Just stand over there and do nothing at all. Okay?"
"Right," his friends acknowledged.
"Absolutely nothing. No matter what."
"Right."
"Right. Um. Well, here we go." Kensuke pressed the trigger and held his ears.
Nothing happened.
"Oh. Er... hang on just one second." The otaku scurried and climbed over and about his new toy, frantically searching for the fault in his glorious plan. "Um... the barrel, maybe?"
Lightning flashed in the sky...
Kensuke peered into the barrel of the cannon. "Can't see," he commented, and leaned in further. "Oh... hang on... what's thiwhoooah!" Kensuke slid fully into the barrel, where he lay squawking indignantly.
"Well, who didn't see that coming?" Shinji muttered. Touji nodded sagely.
And then, of course, it went off.
With a thunderous crack, the cannon fired its geeky, bespectacled, hunchbacked missile. Kensuke was blasted high into the air in a puff of smoke.
"AAAAAAAAAaaaaaahhh....!" The shriek faded as Kensuke became a tiny spot in the distance, soaring over buildings and leaving a trail of ballpoint pens and Magic: The Gathering cards in his wake.
Shinji blinked in bemusement. Touji sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"Weird."
"Yeah."
They strolled over to the edge of the building. They could just see the tiny shape dropping. "Looks like he's headed for the government building," commented Touji.
Shinji squinted. "Nah... that's the mall, isn't it?"
"I dunno. I guess we should look for him."
Shinji sighed. "I suppose. You go to the government building and I'll check out the mall, then."
They turned back to the stairs. "Always the same." Touji shook his head. "It starts in games and ends in tears."
* * *
Kensuke flailed his arms and screamed wildly as the grey-brick building loomed closer. "Oh, sh-"
He hit. Luckily, it was the glass window of Tokyo-3's People's Choice Film Studio that received the impact. Kensuke exploded onto the set in a storm of broken glass. Fortunately, his landing was strangely soft and without pain.
"-it," he finished, and glanced around. He seemed to be lying on a large, heart-shaped bed, and there was a fat, balding man with a hairy chest staring directly at him, not to mention the numerous cameramen and other various onlookers.
Most notable of all, however, was the scantily clad human female lying beside him, looking more than a little surprised.
"Um, hi," Kensuke said nervously to the room in general, pushing his glasses up his nose.
The fat man, obviously the director, blinked and pointed a suspicious finger at Kensuke. "I'll get to you in a second." He then turned to a muscle-bound yet obviously dejected 'actor'. "What was I saying... oh yeah. Look, Butch, you just can't hack it in this industry. You got no stamina, no control... and frankly, three inches is quite unimpressive, even for a cat boner like you."
"But Bobby..." the muscly actor whined, wringing his hands. The director held up his hands.
"No buts, Butch. To be perfectly blunt, your bone needs more meat. Connoisseurs of the adult entertainment industry want to be impressed, not embarrassed. Look, I bet even this kid is better endowed than you. Hey, kid!"
"Wha...?" Kensuke stammered in confusion.
"How big is the barrel of your cannon, kid?"
"Er..." Kensuke thought back. "About eight meters."
The director blinked in astonishment. "Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ-bananas."
"That must be useful for changing the channel without getting off the couch," commented a cameraman mildly.
"Or opening a door from across the room," added the guy holding the boom mike.
The director began rubbing his hands eagerly. "You got any training?"
"Um... yes, it was trained on... er... St. Petersburg... for three years..." Kensuke replied hesitantly as he saw the man's satisfied expression, unsure of his intentions. "But don't worry, it's a registered weapon with the Japanese government," he added hastily.
The director nodded with a Cheshire-cat grin. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." He thrust out his filth-encrusted hand. "Bobby LeMora, greatest director of skin flicks on the whole damn planet. Welcome to People's Choice Film Studios, kid."
Kensuke carefully shook the man's hand. "Film studios?"
LeMora draped a blubbery arm around Kensuke's shoulder. "Correct. And we are going to make you a star." He gestured to the miserable actor with the muscles. "Get that bum out of here."
"A star?" Kensuke said in disbelief.
"I know talent when I see it," LeMora stated. "If you'd just step this way, we'll have a look at your talents..."
* * *
Asuka swore so brutally that a nearby statue of the Virgin Mary began to cry.
She had just arrived at 'Tokyo-3's most highly-regarded restaurant' and fought the urge to transform it into a stain on Unit-02's gigantic mechanical boot. A very familiar logo loomed up in front of her like a prophet's portent of doom.
"Burger King," snarled Asuka. "You must be joking."
She glanced down at the ad she had snipped out of the newspaper. No... it was definitely the right address.
Forcing herself to remember that she had to get a job if she ever wanted her old room back, Asuka raised her head and screamed a hundred violent curses to the heavens before narrowing her eyes, taking a deep breath and stalking into the building.
* * *
Shinji sighed.
He was lingering in the mall, unsure of what to do. He'd wandered up and down its sizeable length for a while now but there was no sign of Kensuke. Idly, he wondered if he should just give up, considering Kensuke might be dead or something.
Sticking his hands gloomily into the pockets of his new leather jacket, he felt something: the packet of white powder that he had forgotten about until now. Frowning, he withdrew it and examined it again. This action caught the attention of two young men who looked about twenty-odd, and they began looking interestedly in Shinji's direction.
Casually - too casually, Shinji noted warily - they wandered up to him and leaned against the wall he stood beside. Neither of them looked at him.
"I'll take three hundred grams of the white lady, kid," one of them said in a low voice, staring directly ahead.
Shinji blinked.
"I'll take one hundred," the other man stated in an equally soft voice. "If it's good stuff, I'll come back for more. Deal?"
Glancing between them, Shinji's mind was a whirl of confusion, but amidst it all, he blurted, "Sure."
He tipped what he hoped was three hundred grams into the little plastic bag the first man offered and then one hundred into the bag the other was holding out. Much to his surprise, he was handed a wad of notes.
"Heeey, this is good, man," one of the young men smirked, and winked at Shinji. "I think some of my friends are gonna want to meet you, kid. Now just hang on..."
A few minutes later, Shinji was being swamped by customers.
A couple of minutes after that, his head was spinning wildly and he had to lean up against the brick wall for support, a maniacal grin on his face. Unconsciously he yanked his trousers up a few inches - they kept being pulled down by the weight of the notes in his pockets.
"Well," he said. "Well, well, well."
* * *
After her two teenage housemates had left the building, Misato had decided to take a nap. Nothing much to do in this neighbourhood, she mused to herself. A little earlier, she had seen Pen-Pen leading a group of rather shady-looking penguins into Shinji's room, but she thought little of it. Hell, she was no expert on warm water penguins. For all she knew, that was a natural thing for them to do.
And so she had entered her bedroom – three cockroaches had looked up in alarm and fled when she entered, dropping the crudely drawn apartment map they had been scribbling on – and flopped down on her creaking mattress.
After just fifteen minutes of sweet repose, however, a snarling rat hurled a Molotov cocktail in through the door of her room, rudely awakening her. Blinking sleepily when the heat from the roaring blast awoke her, she blearily gazed around.
It seemed the homemade incendiary had detonated in the midst of a group of cockroaches, which were now little more than burned-out husks. Before she could so much as think on this, however, another posse of cockroaches wearing gold chains and sporting arcane tattoos exploded from the wall in a small car.
As Misato watched in surprise, the car roared around her bed on two wheels and thundered out into the hallway towards Asuka's room.
There was the sound of automatic gunfire and agonized squeaking, and the Major swore she heard someone shout, "Blood for our fallen brothers! Vamos, compadres!" before the cockroach hombres screeched back into the room, slapping one another high-fives. They collected their dead and retreated into the walls, without giving her so much as a glance.
Misato yawned, stretched and vaguely wondered if that happened often. She had asserted her dominance over the cockroaches, but the rats seemed to want to take advantage of Asuka's current absence to expand their turf.
She was actually a little relieved when there was a soft rapping at the door. Finally, someone to relieve the tedium, she thought to herself.
Unfortunately, her hopes would go unrealised as her visitor turned out to be the First Child. Misato sighed. Well, there goes that idea. "What's up, Rei?" she said in a tired voice. "Have you lost your sense of self identity again?"
"No," said Rei softly.
Misato sighed heavily once again. "So, I suppose you're not here to alleviate my boredom either?" she asked rather snappily.
"No."
Misato rolled her eyes. "They don't call you Rei-o de Janeiro for nothing, I see."
There was a blank look on Ayanami's face.
"You know... Rio? The party capital of the world...? Rio, Rei-o, I was being... oh, never mind," she said grumpily. "What do you want?"
"If I may, I wish to ask you a question."
"What's that?"
"It is an interrogative form of sentence that is used to seek information," Rei answered smoothly.
"Yes, I know that," Misato grated. "What is the question?"
"Where is Ikari? I want to see him."
"He called me a little while ago. He said he's down at the mall, earning some money. I'm very proud of him," Misato beamed. "He's so responsible, making an honest yen like that. Unlike Pen-Pen. He's been doing something sneaky, that penguin..."
"What is that?"
"It's a small, domesticated flightless bird that has been genetically adapted to survive in a warm water environment," replied Misato, a little nastily.
Rei blinked slowly, like an iguana in the sunlight. Then she turned away. "Thank you, Major Katsuragi."
"Sure, Rei. I'm happy to help you anytime," Misato lied. Then, she switched to the truth. "See you later."
"Yes."
Misato closed the door quickly after the First Child had left. Ayanami seemed to drain the energy out of a room simply by being there. After talking to Rei Misato always felt like sticking her hand in the blender, just to liven things up.
______________________________________
Gracias for all comments, good and bad and whatever came in between.
I'll say right now, though, that I'm not really taking any of them all that seriously. Please don't think this is an insult or criticism, it's just that I only posted it because I thought some people might like it, not because I was desperately after comments. Comedy is hard to write and I fully understand it's utterly hit and miss.
So by all means I appreciate comments or suggestions but I'm not demanding you surrender them to me. If you like the story, you're my new best friend, if not, well, no offence taken. I know it's not for everybody.
Oh, and thanks, Autophage. And you got it right. A slacker's work is never done.
Take it easy,
RENEGADE
=The Underground Empire= May Odd Grant Us StrengthDisclaimer: To put it bluntly, if you think GAINAX would ever give Neon Genesis: Evangelion this kind of treatment, you need your head examined. In other words, I don't own it.