Hello all of you forever cursed readers. It's me, Casamaw! I'm back. Not even the combined strength of the U.S. of A's justice system, an entire team of psychologists, a trip to the most secure prison in the world and the British Dental Association could stop me. I lie of course, the psychologists were just there for the free press. Here in which I now bring a new tale to drive you all insane. It was getting kinda lonely around here, so I decided to try and make a few new friends. *Warning* This story may contain spoilers for all those whose RPG is weak. I'd like to thank Diathorn for writing all of this down as I dictate. I don't own the rights to any characters from any of the Final Fantasy series, although I wish I did. I just got me. Anyway, depression and legal stuff besides, on with the story.
Final Fantasy Battle
Or
How To Annoy All Pro- (Insert Favorite Character's Name[s] Here) Fans
A not so long time ago, in a horribly conceived story all too close and available to literate eyes, a huge rift in the time-space continuum opened up. Check that. A minute thread-bare spot in existence. No, that's still not original. How about: Due to an influx from the cream and sugar mixing with the semi-hot tea poured by Mr. Fluffykins at his Museum of Cute Cuddly Stuffed Animals, all the main characters from Final Fantasy 7, 8, and 10 were ripped from their respective dimensions and taken to the Museum of Cute Cuddly Stuffed Animals? There I, the moderately okay Casamaw, came up with the idea of pitting these great heroes against each for my own twisted sense of amusement. But only after I finished my tea. Luckily, Mr. Fluffykins allowed me to use his own personal battle arena, called Mr. Fluffykins' Stadium of Death & Dismemberment and Ice Cream Parlor. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Fluffykins is a nice guy, once you get over the shrunken head necklace he always wears. So now the narrative ends and the dialogue begins.
Cas: Welcome y'all. It's so good to see you all here tonight. If we can all settle down we can start quickly.
Cid: What the @$&^!% are we doing here?
Zell: Uh, what he said.
Squall: Who are you?
Cas: I am the one and only (thankfully) Casamaw Nakam. You can call me Cas. Call me "Gooseberries Under A Skylight" and you'll get a world and a moon of pain. Now if everyone could... hey! Where is everyone?
Cloud: Aeris?
Squall: Rinoa?
Tidus: Yuna?
Mr. F: They all paid admission price.
Cas: They went inside?
Mr. F: Yup. They should be out in a couple of hours. Unless it's Thursday. Then you all had better get a hotel.
Cas: It is Thursday. How long is this going to take.
Mr. F: About three days. Every Thursday we give out full tours and provisions for the extent of it. Three days is about average for any large group of females to go through. Good business, great time for a date. Though most guys go insane by the first day. Wonder why?
Cas: On that happy note, let's decide on what to do. We can go after the girls, or wait for them here. Let's vote.
One vote later.
Cas: Okay, that's 7 votes for "go after them." 6 Votes for "Wait." and 1 vote for "Let's get some hot dogs." Someone hit Zell.
Zell: Owww! I voted to go!
Irvine: Ha! Sucker, I wrote that. Ha ha ha ha ha!
Cas: Zell, my apologies. Irvine gets a Fire spell on his lousy cowboy hat. Fire!
Irvine: Ouch.
Squall: I think he's out cold.
Cas: How could he be? I used a Fire spell. Get it? Ya' know, a Fire spell, out cold? Forget it. Well, since we can't really just go in. I mean, I don't have enough money. So I'll just teleport them from there, to here.
Red XIII: If you could do that in the first place, than why didn't you?
Cas: All questions must be submitted in the form of semaphore. Now let's get to the arena!
In case any of you don't know Cas, please read my bio. He'll also pop up in some of my other stories. Wish he'd stay out though, but he works as a plot device real cheap and it cost's a lot for plot devices. Read and review. Best read after my other story, Conforming To The Penalty. As soon as I finish it.
Cas: You're advertising your own story in my story.
Diathorn: I give you free reign, I want free press.
Final Fantasy Battle
Or
How To Annoy All Pro- (Insert Favorite Character's Name[s] Here) Fans
A not so long time ago, in a horribly conceived story all too close and available to literate eyes, a huge rift in the time-space continuum opened up. Check that. A minute thread-bare spot in existence. No, that's still not original. How about: Due to an influx from the cream and sugar mixing with the semi-hot tea poured by Mr. Fluffykins at his Museum of Cute Cuddly Stuffed Animals, all the main characters from Final Fantasy 7, 8, and 10 were ripped from their respective dimensions and taken to the Museum of Cute Cuddly Stuffed Animals? There I, the moderately okay Casamaw, came up with the idea of pitting these great heroes against each for my own twisted sense of amusement. But only after I finished my tea. Luckily, Mr. Fluffykins allowed me to use his own personal battle arena, called Mr. Fluffykins' Stadium of Death & Dismemberment and Ice Cream Parlor. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Fluffykins is a nice guy, once you get over the shrunken head necklace he always wears. So now the narrative ends and the dialogue begins.
Cas: Welcome y'all. It's so good to see you all here tonight. If we can all settle down we can start quickly.
Cid: What the @$&^!% are we doing here?
Zell: Uh, what he said.
Squall: Who are you?
Cas: I am the one and only (thankfully) Casamaw Nakam. You can call me Cas. Call me "Gooseberries Under A Skylight" and you'll get a world and a moon of pain. Now if everyone could... hey! Where is everyone?
Cloud: Aeris?
Squall: Rinoa?
Tidus: Yuna?
Mr. F: They all paid admission price.
Cas: They went inside?
Mr. F: Yup. They should be out in a couple of hours. Unless it's Thursday. Then you all had better get a hotel.
Cas: It is Thursday. How long is this going to take.
Mr. F: About three days. Every Thursday we give out full tours and provisions for the extent of it. Three days is about average for any large group of females to go through. Good business, great time for a date. Though most guys go insane by the first day. Wonder why?
Cas: On that happy note, let's decide on what to do. We can go after the girls, or wait for them here. Let's vote.
One vote later.
Cas: Okay, that's 7 votes for "go after them." 6 Votes for "Wait." and 1 vote for "Let's get some hot dogs." Someone hit Zell.
Zell: Owww! I voted to go!
Irvine: Ha! Sucker, I wrote that. Ha ha ha ha ha!
Cas: Zell, my apologies. Irvine gets a Fire spell on his lousy cowboy hat. Fire!
Irvine: Ouch.
Squall: I think he's out cold.
Cas: How could he be? I used a Fire spell. Get it? Ya' know, a Fire spell, out cold? Forget it. Well, since we can't really just go in. I mean, I don't have enough money. So I'll just teleport them from there, to here.
Red XIII: If you could do that in the first place, than why didn't you?
Cas: All questions must be submitted in the form of semaphore. Now let's get to the arena!
In case any of you don't know Cas, please read my bio. He'll also pop up in some of my other stories. Wish he'd stay out though, but he works as a plot device real cheap and it cost's a lot for plot devices. Read and review. Best read after my other story, Conforming To The Penalty. As soon as I finish it.
Cas: You're advertising your own story in my story.
Diathorn: I give you free reign, I want free press.