People, try not to decipher the hidden message of this story. Truth is, you will only be hurting yourselves.

Intelligence Is A Luxury
Chapter one
A New Evil

Sephiroth was dead to begin with. As dead as a doorknob. Or as dead as something dead could possibly be. In fact, he was so dead that he magically came back to life. Sephiroth soon discovered, after coming magically back to life, that Hojo was not his father, but that Vincent was. Shut up. That is too what he discovered. After this discovery, Vincent and Sephiroth decided to make up for lost time. Yes, I know, terrible idea on Vincent and Sephiroth's part.

Oh my God, like, Sephy is, like, sooo cool. I'm gonna, like, marry him! And, like, have his kids! ...Sorry, little outburst there. Ignore that, it has nothing to do with the plotlessness of the story. Good day to you, sir! Now while I compose myself, enjoy some dialogue.

::In Tifa's Seventh Heaven::

Tifa's bar, or pub, or tavern, or whatever you wish to call it, was packed. So packed that there were people enjoying her world famous drinks from outside of the tavern, bar and/or pub. That sentenced confused me so much so that I'm just going to move on.

Anyway, Tifa poured out another drink for another customer. "Ah, I miss Cloud." But then again, Tifa always missed Cloud. Even when Cloud went to the can, Tifa missed him. When Cloud went across the room and was still in her line of vision, Tifa missed him. Even when Cloud was standing right next to her, Tifa missed him.

Tifa sighed, disheartened. "Damn, I need a life."

Just then, at exactly that moment, a man walked into the bar. He wasn't just any man, he was.......................................................(take a breath, people)........Vincent Valentine (V.V. Strange initials, eh?). Vincent wandered over to Tifa, who was behind her counter and sulking over the fact that she missed Cloud since he wasn't there at the present moment.

"I'll have an alcoholic beverage that is usually made from malted cereal grain (as barley), flavored with hops, and brewed by slow fermentation served inside a piece of ordnance usually with high muzzle velocity and comparatively flat trajectory." Vincent so happily ordered. Wait. Something is odd with this whole paragraph. ...Vincent is never happy.

Allow me to redo it:

"I'll have an alcoholic beverage that is usually made from malted cereal grain (as barley), flavored with hops, and brewed by slow fermentation served inside a piece of ordnance usually with high muzzle velocity and comparatively flat trajectory." Vincent so miserably ordered.

Better? Gloomily, depressively and sulkily also would have been acceptable.

Tifa raised a brow. "You'll have who served in a what now?"

Vincent sighed. How hard was it just to serve an order? Damn, the girl obviously must be simple. "NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME!"

Everyone in the bar turned to stare at the man. I love Vincent, but that has nothing to do with anything. After a few moments of regarding each and every individual with blinking, both Vincent and the customers in the bar turned back around.

"Dammit all to hell. Just give me a beer in a gun." Vincent through some gil on the countertop. He then shifted in his seat. Those barstools aren't comfortable, you know.

Tifa shrugged. After all, she had had stranger orders. Just to be sure her ears hadn't deceived her, she repeated, "You want beer in a gun?"

"Yes."

"Beer...in a gun?"

"Yes..."

"If you don't mind me asking, Vincent, how are you going to drink that?"

Vincent blinked. Then he blinked some more. He, in fact, blinked so many times that his eyes dried out and he had to leave shortly to go to the "lavatory" to through water in his eyes. Upon coming back in, delayed only by a conversation with some spiky-haired guy about shower curtains, Vincent answered her queries. "I'm going to suck it out of the barrel. You see, I have a very strange and perverted obsession with guns. So, can I have my order now?"

"Dad! Order something for me, too!" Sephiroth ran in through the bar doors and threw all the customers out of his way (hey, he's a strong guy) and ran up to Vincent.

"Daddaddaddaddaddad!" Sephiroth whined, tugging on his father's sleeve.

"Damnation." Vincent mumbled. "Son, you are too insane and mad with insaneness to have anything alcoholic."

Sephiroth then composed himself. "Very well, father. Tifa, I will have the fermented juice of fresh grapes used as a beverage to which alcohol, usually in the form of grape brandy, has been added during or after fermentation, served in a crystalline glass."

Tifa tilted her head to the side slightly, mouth agape. It must run in the family. "You want what?" She was sure she understood the crystal glass part.

"Doth my ears deceive me, boy, or did you just ask for wine?" Vincent stood up hastily and pointed his rather nice looking pointer finger at Sephiroth. "Wine is ALCOHOLIC!"

"Wine...? Who said anything about wine...?" Sephiroth's eyes shifted back and forth. "I could have been just ordering grape juice with alcohol in it..." Sephiroth made an innocent, cute face. How can you resist that? HOW!?

Vincent sighed yet again. "Clever boy." He scratched the stubble on his beard. "Wait... How can I have stubble on my beard? And since when do I have a beard?" Vincent ripped off his fake beard. "A pox on thee and your grape juice!" He said, throwing down the fake beard.

"I'll take that!" Cid popped out from behind Vincent and placed upon his face the fake beard, but since the beard was of the color of coals, it stood out noticeably. "Tifa, I'll have some goddamn tea."

Finally, a normal order... "What a minute. That order isn't normal!" Tifa so carefully observed. "Who orders tea in a bar?"

Cid's eyes flashed. At first, people thought it was simply Cid having some sort of aneurysm. But then people realized that you can't see an aneurysm actually "flash" in someone's eye. "I...want...some...TEA!" Cid flailed his arms in the air and punched a random person in the face. But he didn't actually kill the random person, for Cid is very kindhearted...on the inside.

"All right, you can have some tea!" Tifa backed away slightly from Cid. "What do you want it served in?"

"What the hell kinda question is that? Just give me the friggin' TEA!"

"Yes, but what do you want it in?"

Cid rolled his eyes. After an hour of careful contemplation, Cid figured out that he wouldn't get anywhere by not telling Tifa how to serve his tea. At that moment, graced by the powers above, Cid finally realized just what he wanted his tea served in. "I'll have my tea in any kind of amorphous material formed from a melt by cooling to rigidity without crystallization, usually transparent or translucent, consisting especially of a mixture of silicates." Ouch. Thinking hurt Cid. His cigarette fell from out his mouth.

Tifa frowned. "I'll give it to you in a damn wooden cup."

Cid had no objections seeing as he was still rubbing his aching head. "That's the last friggin' time I say something remotely intelligent!"

"Don't quit now, Cid! I thought you sounded almost as smart as Red IX!" Cloud came out of the bathroom, wiping his wet hands on his pants. No, they were wet because he washed them. Don't get any ideas.

"It's Red XIII, dumbass!" Cid smacked Cloud upside his head. "And where's my TEA?!"

Cloud rubbed his head, sat down next to Cid, glanced over to the other side of Cid where Vincent and Sephiroth were enjoying their alcoholic beverages served in various objects, rose up from out his seat again and pointed at Sephiroth. "IT'S SEPHY--I mean--SEPHIROTH! HE LIVES!"

Cid smacked Cloud again.

"Thank you!" Vincent toasted Cid, who finally got his TEA. Hey, tea takes a long time to prepare.

"Ow." Quoth the Cloud.

Suddenly, from the back of the bar, a tiny, faint voice could be heard: "EVIL!" The voice sounded old, like it belonged to that of an older person, particularly an old, old, old man. "AND I'M OLD!"

Vincent, Sephiroth, Tifa and Cid looked all around the people-packed bar for the owner of the old, old, old voice. Cloud, on the other hand, was looking upwards for some reason. They saw nothing but younger people and pimply teenagers.

"Remember," Vincent advised, "the man is old."

"How's that, Cid?" Cloud asked, still with his head craned upward.

"Because that old, old, old man distinctly said he was old. And I'm Vincent, not Cid."

"Vincent? VINCENT! Where did you go? I can't see you!" Cloud waved his arms about, as if trying to feel for Vincent, and ended up smacking Cid upside the head.

Cid picked up his wooden cup, full of minty tasting tea, and bashed Cloud over the head with it. "Tilt your head back down, jackass!"

Cloud did just that. "Oh... I mean, whatever." Cloud folded his arms before his chest and tried to keep intact whatever was left of his dignity.

"Ha, ha." Sephiroth laughed. Everyone then looked at him. He simply shrugged. "I haven't said anything in a while."

"EVIL!" The old, old, old man cried once more.

Everyone looked again at Sephiroth.

"It wasn't me! I'm not evil! Er, anymore."

Cloud stood up, wielding his too-damn-big-for-him sword. "We must track this new evil, if it truly isn't Sephiroth, and try to patch up my broken dignity! I will destroy this evil because for some unknown reason this will avenge Aeris' death...again. Evil will perish as sure as my name is Zack!"

Tifa tapped Cloud's shoulder from behind, interrupting his well thought out speech. "Your name is Cloud, Cloud."