Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or things related to Squaresoft. Nor
are any of the characters, 'my slaves.' I also don't own my own brand of
ice cream; don't own any cows, or British commentators. But I do own a
broom! It's a shiny broom O_o. I also don't own the CACTAWBGVO, sadly.
Anything else that seems questionable, trust me, I don't own it. I'm just a
deranged author, with a very, very silly sense of humor. Enjoy ^_^!
And now, for you're amusement!
Mmm Tasty
After a hard day of work, Squall collapsed exhausted onto his bed. The day had been grueling, but he'd made it through. Six hours of T-Rexuar stomping, filing paper, office inventory, and last, but oh hyne not least, cadet orientation. He'd faced a long hard day of whiny children wondering if they would get their favorite dessert come dinnertime. Squall sighed, letting a small grin grace his features. 'It was all worth it.' He thought to himself, slowly rising from his position. He deftly jumped off the bed and rushed to the side of his door. He waited, listening for the sounds of oncoming footsteps. Hearing none, he pulled himself in front of the door and threw the latch. Cackling to himself he sunk down against it.
Squall walked over to his fridge, hungrily eyeing the handle, the cool sheen of the exterior reflecting in his eyes. "FINALLY" Fuujin exclaimed, throwing open the door to the fridge and poking her face in. Oh gracious it was good, not only had she been able to penetrate his room, but now, here she stood, in front of a loaded fridge.
Now not many people know this, but I, as the author, deem it necessary to tell you this shocking, little known fact. Yes my friends, Squall is a dairy farmer. Every since he was a child, he had a strange, almost obsessive fetish surrounding cows, and their likes. So, upon being proclaimed world heroine, (Yes, heroine, he thought it sounded better than 'hero' and catered more to his feminine tastes) Squall had set out, secretly of course, so that he could fulfill his life long goal of becoming a dairy farmer. So that he could gaze lovingly at the cows, wondering what it would be like, to graze on the fresh green grass, fondly chewing his own cud. I mean, what? Squall doesn't think like that, and I as the author refuse to endorse such a fool-hearty explanation of Squall's inner desires. Oh he11 with it, we all know that Squall having a bovine fascination would be damn funny, we're keeping it! Done? Done. Ok, on with the story, sorry about that. Anyway, Squall continued going out on SeeD 'missions' after his famed defeat of Ultimecia. Of course, they weren't really missions; they were trips to his dairy farm out in the plains of Galbadia. Cid listened to Squall's dream, and, being all for dreams and such, gave him the go ahead, and the necessary cover up. If anyone asks, he's on a very important, commander-like mission, to investigate the inflation of, Marlbros after the Lunatic Pandora incident. Anyway, as it so happens, that very week, Squall was away on one of his, 'Marlbro clean up missions.' Now pause for a moment. Let's all take this well timed break in the story, to appreciate in our minds eye, that picture of Squall sitting on a fence post in dirty overalls with a far off look on his face. Gazing lovingly at the cows, while attempting to find a way to chew his own cud. Oh, and for another random tangent to this story, that isn't really a story, but will be soon, I promise, Squall is also a member of the CACTAWBGVO. Short for, 'Citizens Against Cow Tipping Association Who Bear Guns Very Often.' It's reported that few have seen Squall out in a lone field at night, lurking in the darkness, pointing his gunblade at anything that moves and crying out in defiance. Mmm, what a mind picture. Squall is also known to brand his cows with the slogan that's continually increasing in popularity, 'Squall's your Daddy, Bitch.' You also have to say that with a British accent, in fact, this story would be a whole lot funnier, if read, in a heavy British accent. I, as the author, am now speaking, in a heavy British accent. In fact, as your saying that slogan in a heavy British accent, visualize one of the old British comedians sitting at his desk with his fingers pressed together, looking into the camera inquisitively saying, "'Squall's your Daddy, Bitch' Indeed." Now that we've got the visual down, I might consider continuing with the plot, keywords, might consider. In fact, I'd like you all to be aware, well you probably already are, so, I'd like to reinstate the fact that most of this story has been about my analytical observations of Squall's bovine fascination. Again I'd also like to remind you, that I am narrating in, a heavy, British accent. All right, that thing called plot, continuation. NOW, (in that same British accent!).
Fuujin's eyes glazed over as she looked at the large store of ice cream, butter, milk, curds, cream, and other, related dairy products stocked in Squall's food receptacle. "TASTY" she declared, unzipping the clever, full Squall body suit that she had crafted out of linked gum wrappers, that had still amazingly managed to fool everyone. Go figure. She quickly went for the closest thing to her, which happened to be a container of, 'Squall's Fantasy' ice cream. Ripping the top off, she promptly stuffed her face into the container and started eating. Snorting gracefully she took in ice cream from her mouth, nose, ears, and any other orifice she may have had.on her face. Now at this point she started spluttering, realizing that her ears, did not connect directly to her esophagus, and that her nose was not a very comfortable route down it either. After making these new discoveries about the way her body worked, she drew back a little bit, and settled for shoveling it into her mouth with her hands. Fuujin was so caught up in her triumphant food fest, that she didn't notice Squall come into his room, hang up his overalls and head towards his fridge with another gallon of, 'Squall's Fantasy'. Of course, being Squall, he didn't notice Fuujin until he walked into her. "MINE, STAY AWAY" Fuujin defended clutching the ice cream like she would a small child. "NOOOO MY PRIDE AND JOY! I'll save you my baby!" Squall lunged for the ice cream. HOLD IT! Now wait a minute, Squall, you just waltz in here, and start yelling at Fuujin for coveting your ice cream? Aren't you even the least bit deterred by the fact that one, Fuujin is in your dorm, and two, she's in a suit of you crafted out of gum wrappers? And Fuujin, aren't you the least but miffed that Squall discovered you in this embarrassing situation?! The two look at the ceiling and blink. Fuujin leans towards Squall, and whispers in the best way that Fuujin can whisper, "SQUALL, THE CELING SPEAKS TO US" "I know Fuujin, I'm scared too." Squall, being the pre-determined brave one, decides to speak up. "Umm, Mr. Ceiling, why are you in my room? I mean, I know why you're in my room, but, why are you talking to us? It's scaring us. Can you please stop and go back to being a regular ceiling?" Squall said submissively in a child like voice. FOOLS, I command you! You are my pawns! AND I'M NOT THE FRICKIN' CEILING! I'm The Author! At any rate, that's MS. CEILING to you! "Um, author of our lives, can we please have them back?" Squall chided hopefully. Pitiful video game characters! You exist solely for my amusement, now sit your asses back down and continue arguing humorously over ice cream for my amusement. That will be all.
Squall and Fuujin both stare dumfounded at the ceiling. "Fuujin, do you think it's gone?" Squall whispers tentatively, poking Fuujin. "UNCERTAIN" "Should we, check?" "AFFIRMITAVE"
Squall runs off, several moments later, he returns with a broom. "You do it Fuujin, I don't wanna touch it! It's icky!" "SIGH, FINE, I WILL POKE"
Fuujin climbs on top of Squall's bed and carefully pokes the ceiling. AHAHAHAHA! You think you can harm me with such weak fictional tools!? HA! I laugh at your confusedness! But you amuse, continue my slaves. "Excuse me, um, almighty author lady, but what'll you do to us if we're um.bad?" I shall smite you.and take away your cows AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! "NOOOO Not my cows!" Squall cried, dropping to the floor and writhing. "Wait, how do you know about my cows, and, and, all that other stuff you know?!" What? How do I know all this stuff about Squall when few members of the public know about it themselves? I'M THE AUTHOR! If I want Squall to put on a chicken suit and dance around, then he will! Do it Squall! "But laaaaady, I don't wanna, it itches." NOW BITCH, or no more ice cream will be had! "Eeep! My ice cream! Right away oh great goddess of my being." That's better.
Fuujin glanced on with a bemused expression. "LOOK, YOU ARE SLAVE NOW, HA HA HA." Seizing her opportunity, Fuujin shoveled the last bits of ice cream into her mouth, tucked a few extra gallons into her Squall suit, and skipped off down the hall way. Fuujin patted herself on the back for a job well done. She passed Irvine in the hall, while she was in the midst of her celebratory triumph. "Hey Squall, ooooh ice cream! Can I have some?" "RAGE, DESTORY" Fuujin pummeled Irvine and left him in time out to think about what he had done. Needless to say, Irvine was a very confused cowboy. "Squall-Fuujin? Oww my brain hurts." Irvine said to himself clutching his hat. AHAHAHAHA brain hurt-age for you my pawn! I mean, what? I'm just a widdle innocent author-lady, I don't control any of these, wonderful.things. I swear.
~Kyrii
And now, for you're amusement!
Mmm Tasty
After a hard day of work, Squall collapsed exhausted onto his bed. The day had been grueling, but he'd made it through. Six hours of T-Rexuar stomping, filing paper, office inventory, and last, but oh hyne not least, cadet orientation. He'd faced a long hard day of whiny children wondering if they would get their favorite dessert come dinnertime. Squall sighed, letting a small grin grace his features. 'It was all worth it.' He thought to himself, slowly rising from his position. He deftly jumped off the bed and rushed to the side of his door. He waited, listening for the sounds of oncoming footsteps. Hearing none, he pulled himself in front of the door and threw the latch. Cackling to himself he sunk down against it.
Squall walked over to his fridge, hungrily eyeing the handle, the cool sheen of the exterior reflecting in his eyes. "FINALLY" Fuujin exclaimed, throwing open the door to the fridge and poking her face in. Oh gracious it was good, not only had she been able to penetrate his room, but now, here she stood, in front of a loaded fridge.
Now not many people know this, but I, as the author, deem it necessary to tell you this shocking, little known fact. Yes my friends, Squall is a dairy farmer. Every since he was a child, he had a strange, almost obsessive fetish surrounding cows, and their likes. So, upon being proclaimed world heroine, (Yes, heroine, he thought it sounded better than 'hero' and catered more to his feminine tastes) Squall had set out, secretly of course, so that he could fulfill his life long goal of becoming a dairy farmer. So that he could gaze lovingly at the cows, wondering what it would be like, to graze on the fresh green grass, fondly chewing his own cud. I mean, what? Squall doesn't think like that, and I as the author refuse to endorse such a fool-hearty explanation of Squall's inner desires. Oh he11 with it, we all know that Squall having a bovine fascination would be damn funny, we're keeping it! Done? Done. Ok, on with the story, sorry about that. Anyway, Squall continued going out on SeeD 'missions' after his famed defeat of Ultimecia. Of course, they weren't really missions; they were trips to his dairy farm out in the plains of Galbadia. Cid listened to Squall's dream, and, being all for dreams and such, gave him the go ahead, and the necessary cover up. If anyone asks, he's on a very important, commander-like mission, to investigate the inflation of, Marlbros after the Lunatic Pandora incident. Anyway, as it so happens, that very week, Squall was away on one of his, 'Marlbro clean up missions.' Now pause for a moment. Let's all take this well timed break in the story, to appreciate in our minds eye, that picture of Squall sitting on a fence post in dirty overalls with a far off look on his face. Gazing lovingly at the cows, while attempting to find a way to chew his own cud. Oh, and for another random tangent to this story, that isn't really a story, but will be soon, I promise, Squall is also a member of the CACTAWBGVO. Short for, 'Citizens Against Cow Tipping Association Who Bear Guns Very Often.' It's reported that few have seen Squall out in a lone field at night, lurking in the darkness, pointing his gunblade at anything that moves and crying out in defiance. Mmm, what a mind picture. Squall is also known to brand his cows with the slogan that's continually increasing in popularity, 'Squall's your Daddy, Bitch.' You also have to say that with a British accent, in fact, this story would be a whole lot funnier, if read, in a heavy British accent. I, as the author, am now speaking, in a heavy British accent. In fact, as your saying that slogan in a heavy British accent, visualize one of the old British comedians sitting at his desk with his fingers pressed together, looking into the camera inquisitively saying, "'Squall's your Daddy, Bitch' Indeed." Now that we've got the visual down, I might consider continuing with the plot, keywords, might consider. In fact, I'd like you all to be aware, well you probably already are, so, I'd like to reinstate the fact that most of this story has been about my analytical observations of Squall's bovine fascination. Again I'd also like to remind you, that I am narrating in, a heavy, British accent. All right, that thing called plot, continuation. NOW, (in that same British accent!).
Fuujin's eyes glazed over as she looked at the large store of ice cream, butter, milk, curds, cream, and other, related dairy products stocked in Squall's food receptacle. "TASTY" she declared, unzipping the clever, full Squall body suit that she had crafted out of linked gum wrappers, that had still amazingly managed to fool everyone. Go figure. She quickly went for the closest thing to her, which happened to be a container of, 'Squall's Fantasy' ice cream. Ripping the top off, she promptly stuffed her face into the container and started eating. Snorting gracefully she took in ice cream from her mouth, nose, ears, and any other orifice she may have had.on her face. Now at this point she started spluttering, realizing that her ears, did not connect directly to her esophagus, and that her nose was not a very comfortable route down it either. After making these new discoveries about the way her body worked, she drew back a little bit, and settled for shoveling it into her mouth with her hands. Fuujin was so caught up in her triumphant food fest, that she didn't notice Squall come into his room, hang up his overalls and head towards his fridge with another gallon of, 'Squall's Fantasy'. Of course, being Squall, he didn't notice Fuujin until he walked into her. "MINE, STAY AWAY" Fuujin defended clutching the ice cream like she would a small child. "NOOOO MY PRIDE AND JOY! I'll save you my baby!" Squall lunged for the ice cream. HOLD IT! Now wait a minute, Squall, you just waltz in here, and start yelling at Fuujin for coveting your ice cream? Aren't you even the least bit deterred by the fact that one, Fuujin is in your dorm, and two, she's in a suit of you crafted out of gum wrappers? And Fuujin, aren't you the least but miffed that Squall discovered you in this embarrassing situation?! The two look at the ceiling and blink. Fuujin leans towards Squall, and whispers in the best way that Fuujin can whisper, "SQUALL, THE CELING SPEAKS TO US" "I know Fuujin, I'm scared too." Squall, being the pre-determined brave one, decides to speak up. "Umm, Mr. Ceiling, why are you in my room? I mean, I know why you're in my room, but, why are you talking to us? It's scaring us. Can you please stop and go back to being a regular ceiling?" Squall said submissively in a child like voice. FOOLS, I command you! You are my pawns! AND I'M NOT THE FRICKIN' CEILING! I'm The Author! At any rate, that's MS. CEILING to you! "Um, author of our lives, can we please have them back?" Squall chided hopefully. Pitiful video game characters! You exist solely for my amusement, now sit your asses back down and continue arguing humorously over ice cream for my amusement. That will be all.
Squall and Fuujin both stare dumfounded at the ceiling. "Fuujin, do you think it's gone?" Squall whispers tentatively, poking Fuujin. "UNCERTAIN" "Should we, check?" "AFFIRMITAVE"
Squall runs off, several moments later, he returns with a broom. "You do it Fuujin, I don't wanna touch it! It's icky!" "SIGH, FINE, I WILL POKE"
Fuujin climbs on top of Squall's bed and carefully pokes the ceiling. AHAHAHAHA! You think you can harm me with such weak fictional tools!? HA! I laugh at your confusedness! But you amuse, continue my slaves. "Excuse me, um, almighty author lady, but what'll you do to us if we're um.bad?" I shall smite you.and take away your cows AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! "NOOOO Not my cows!" Squall cried, dropping to the floor and writhing. "Wait, how do you know about my cows, and, and, all that other stuff you know?!" What? How do I know all this stuff about Squall when few members of the public know about it themselves? I'M THE AUTHOR! If I want Squall to put on a chicken suit and dance around, then he will! Do it Squall! "But laaaaady, I don't wanna, it itches." NOW BITCH, or no more ice cream will be had! "Eeep! My ice cream! Right away oh great goddess of my being." That's better.
Fuujin glanced on with a bemused expression. "LOOK, YOU ARE SLAVE NOW, HA HA HA." Seizing her opportunity, Fuujin shoveled the last bits of ice cream into her mouth, tucked a few extra gallons into her Squall suit, and skipped off down the hall way. Fuujin patted herself on the back for a job well done. She passed Irvine in the hall, while she was in the midst of her celebratory triumph. "Hey Squall, ooooh ice cream! Can I have some?" "RAGE, DESTORY" Fuujin pummeled Irvine and left him in time out to think about what he had done. Needless to say, Irvine was a very confused cowboy. "Squall-Fuujin? Oww my brain hurts." Irvine said to himself clutching his hat. AHAHAHAHA brain hurt-age for you my pawn! I mean, what? I'm just a widdle innocent author-lady, I don't control any of these, wonderful.things. I swear.
~Kyrii