Ahh yes. ANOTHER EPISODE OF QUALITY TIME! I know you're all thrilled.
Jen and Shady- You two killed off characters! But I'm not mad *nods * I'm over it. Really * twitchie * its just a story-I must keep reminding myself of this. *Nods, sniffles-prepares to build paper mache memorials *
Special shout out goes to Jen and Shak and their sad lack of anime in…their little dimension. This one's for you guys.
WARNING: the surgeon general has placed warnings on this chapter. Much Character death, random acts of violence, nudity, swearing, and random fluff within. You have been warned.
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In the spirit of blessed randomness, in the theater of no return there was a room.
And in this room was the manager of the theater.
Now the theater manager has special powers. They can order food-remove people from the premises-and generally are aware of everything that goes on within the theater's four walls.
It also had the power to BANISH.
Yes indeed-the theater manager is an omnipotent being with the powers of banishment. Normally he just banished sad little thirteen year olds who attempted to sneak into rated R movies-but today he was feeling-EVIL.
He stood up, straightened his tie-and left the room locking the two terrified senior employees in behind him.
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"Look-The kids are lost-and William hasn't come out of the bathroom-" Annette sighed, "Lets just get somebody out here to take care of this?"
"What's the big deal about the children being lost?" Violet snickered, "I mean honestly-Sherry would be better off without knowing you were her mum-"
Silence. Albert Wesker snorted-dropping his coke on the floor. His wife bit back laughter as she tried to remain serious.
"Miss snowe-the-the situation-*snort * is-well perilous-"
"That's it!" Annette growled," BRING IT BITCH! I'm gonna open up a can o' whoop ass on your skinny English hide." Annette rolled up her sleeves, "bring it!"
Violet dropped open her mouth, "Um…um-uh-" she looked around frantically, "Anybody want to help with this?"
Patrons continued to go about their business. Wesker turned to a theater employee wheeling a large tray filled with ice into the snack bar.
"Aren't you going to stop them?"
"Stop what? A little action?" The theater employee shrugged, "This job does not pay well pal-I take pleasure where I can."
Wesker sighed, "Then-can I borrow your back room?"
The employee shrugged, "S'all good with me."
Now, a little known fact. Annette knew absolutely Jack-shit about fighting. The only tactic that the impressionable scientist had been able to glean-was left over from years of her brother being a rugby nut. She hit fast and hard-and she was prepared to do so.
"LADIES!"
The lights dimmed.
"Shit." A theater employee frowned, "I'll go check the breakers." He stood up from his seated position and picked up a gigantic axe from the counter.
"Um-Daniel-"
Daniel grinned, "rule one: Always go armed."
"I was going to suggest that you get something bigger." The girl said.
"What's bigger then a fucking axe?"
She reached under the counter and picked up a 357. Smith and Wesson.
"You should be able to find some clips scattered around."
Daniel nodded, "Right."
"Be back soon." He was obviously going to his death.
She watched Daniel go for a minute and turned up the music on their private radio. Normally theater regulations prohibited the use of personal music-but considering that two adults were about to go at it-the fact that Black Sabbath's Iron man was playing was pretty ace.
Annette frowned, "Where's the music coming from?"
Violet wrinkled her nose, "Why is that this is suddenly starting to sound like an American wrestling show?"
Annette raised her head, "You got a problem with the WWF?"
Violet's eyes narrowed, "Ah William, if you could only see your wife now-"
"Annette-before you kill her-" Wesker appeared at Annette's side, "Lets MAKE IT INTERESTING!"
"What the hell-are you wearing?" Clarice shrieked, "That looks like the outfit you put on that-"
Wesker drew his hand across his throat in a swift cutting motion. He wore an all black suit complete with bow tie.
"Ladies and gentlemen-boys and girls-you want it-you need it-LETS GIVE IT UP FOR VIOLET SNOWE!"
The snack bar's lighting suddenly illuminated violet alone-who looked positively paranoid and immediately curled up on the ground in a small ball.
"In this corner-weighing in at-"
"WESKER!"Annette growled, "tell them how much I weigh and you DIE!" She grabbed the man around the collar, "Remember-I used to be a veterinarian-"
Wesker gulped.
"UM…ANNETTE BIRKIN EVERYBODY!"
Violet curled tighter, "Can I send in a replacement?" she squeaked.
"Oh for the love of…" Clarice had wandered to the back of the lobby to where the back room was, "Wesker-you didn't."
Wesker grinned, "Its my curse baby." He smiled widely, "I always carry it around with me."
"I still wonder where you put it." She put her hands on her hips, "I mean-its so big!"
"You can always find room-in your pants!"
Clarice frowned, "Yes-about that-where did you learn that trick?"
Wesker sighed, "A young Lt. I knew back when I was in the army-"
Clarice pointed a finger at Wesker's chest, "wait-wait-you told me you joined umbrella at age eighteen-"
"Army academy Sweets." Wesker sighed, "Named Coen or something. He was my senior. He could fit a whole grenade launcher into his pants without hurting his-"
"HOLD IT!" Clarice frowned and grabbed two children, looking imploringly at the reader, "THIS IS G-RATED!"
"Not anymore!" Wesker grinned jovially, "because now its Annette vs. Violet in the match of the century-MUD WRESTLING!"
Violet's eyes widened, "Really?" she squeaked, "MUD?"
Annette whimpered, then bit her tongue tight enough to draw blood, "LETS GO BIEEATCH!"
Violet smiled. She uncurled herself from the fetal position she'd been in and smiled again.
"You do know that I grew up in the country…right?"
She flung herself at Annette.
The sheer force of her movement carried Annette across the room and smack into the cage.
American patrons-being American and being generally stupid-gathered like crows upon roasting flesh.
American one: ALL RIGHT! Two chicks going at it!
American two: IN MUD TOO! FUCKIN' A!
American three: LETS CHANT ANNOYING THINGS ATTEMPTING TO GET THEM TO LOOK AT US AND BE SEXY!
American one: OKAY!
The three Americans began to chant obscene things they mainly learned from Austin Powers's movies. Sadly all three of these Americans were women. God bless America.
Meanwhile!
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The manager loomed.
A man and a
woman were deep in discussion at a theater entrance. The man was focusing intently on something that the woman was
saying.
"So anyway." She continued, "-That's what the hokey pokey's all about."
He nodded, "Of course."
The manager loomed over them.
"Oh-my…" the woman looked up in terror, "Is anything wrong?"
The manager said nothing.
"It um-am I doing something wrong?"
The manager remained silent.
"Okay…" she looked up, "Never mind then. I'll see you later Brian."
The man nodded and looked up at the manager in fear, "Are you…okay?"
The man swallowed and nodded, "Sorry-I can't talk when I'm eating. It just ruins the food."
"Its also-uh-rude."
The manager nodded, "Of course."
"Any reason why you're here?"
The manager reached out with a ghostly hand and TOUCHED him.
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Somewhere in Oklahoma City.
A young man typed on his computer. He frowned-looking up in terror at the sky for a moment before settling in and staring at his computer screen.
"What was I doing?"
The young man smiled to himself, brightly, "Ah yes! I was just about to kill off Brian Jackson-"
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Returning to the RE universe…
Brian Jackson froze-his skin pale-his eyes glassy.
"Pretend I have a dark master to appease or something." The manager said to him, "Nice little trick hmm?"
The petrified body said nothing. The manager looked sad for a moment. The bad thing about the situation was that it didn't actually KILL off a person until his or her creator actually posted it and someone read it. HE smiled. He and his compatriots made quite a killing off of randomly assaulting fanfiction characters and placing in the heads of their creators to kill them. It was a good job. Then they collected the souls of the characters….
He checked his list.
"Ah! Three more in the premises." He smiled, "Wonderful! And the author's not around to prevent me!"
He folded his hands behind his back and moved toward the lobby.
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What is there to write about a fight scene?
Someone's going to hit something-someone's going to punch someone. Something may explode-someone may say something. Violence is fun-really-REALLY fun to watch-but difficult to imagine without some sort of images. The Quality time Characters had been studying their scripts for the past several minutes attempting to locate fight scene blocking and failed.
"Umm…" Violet bit her lip, "Random punch?"
Annette sighed, "Crying out now."
Wesker frowned and re-read his lines, "there's no way I'm saying that."
Clarice frowned, "What line?"
"Never mind." He sighed, "Um-"some witty saying or other that would make me seem really badass."
Clarice frowned, "I'll go with…a random remark about how Sherry and Natalie are still on the loose?"
Violet frowned, "This is difficult to follow-is this word, "Is" or "Was"
"Was." Annette nodded, "Um-I'll random punch now."
Wesker nodded, "Violet-you take 2+ damage."
The Americans frowned, "BOO! We want to see some blood you weenies!"
"Don't blame me!" Violet frowned, "There's no bloody fight blocking for this scene! Its like the entire page was torn out!"
"That would be my FAULT!"
The RE characters froze.
"Who-" Wesker coughed
"Said-" Clarice frowned
"That?" William Birkin looked up from his card game and wrinkled his brow, "That's not a legal hand."
"Fuck you nerd boy." A Mexican woman wearing a black UBCS uniform said. She tossed the cards on the table, "Remind me again why you dragged me into the guy's bathroom salven?"
Ruben Salven smiled, "Well-I was thinking, Ruben, I said-"
"Finish that sentence." Cora pulled out a cell phone, "And I swear to god I'll wake up the author in Canada and have her kick your ass."
Ruben whimpered, "I'll be good."
"Don't call me Nerd boy." William's eyes narrowed, "My intelligence is far greater then yours you…you-cretin!"
"Cretin?" Salven's eyes narrowed, "That's an interesting word."
"That sounds like a Captain word."
William frowned, "Who's that? Sounds interesting."
"Friend of my author's. She's alright." Cora nodded, "Albeit slightly strange. But then again my author's no picnic either."
"Right." Salven said, "Remember that time she threatened to castrate me if I didn't get into the scene and be normal?"
"You were normal." Cora's eyes narrowed, "Normal for you is weird for the rest of the world."
MEANWHILE!
The three characters looked up and muttered in SIM like voices about interruptions.
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The lighting illuminated him alone.
" I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the writer's block that hinders the creative process! I am the broken pencil stub-the lost pen-the computer with a virus-"
"GET TO THE POINT!" the RE characters yelled.
"I…Am…THE MANAGER!"
Crickets perforated the theater-filled the theaters themselves-and caused all the movies to stop.
The manager sighed, "Oh for the love of-"
He held up something that looked like a ballpoint pen.
"Is he going to do what I think he's going to do?" Violet raised her eyes in terror, "No-no-please-"
Annette frowned, "Wait just a second-what's he doing? What's he going to do-"
"Noooo! No! Not here! Please!" Violet scrambled back, "Shak! William! Shinji Mikami! Save us!"
"Now hold up just a damn minute." Wesker growled, "What's he going to-"
"MANAGER-CORPORATE POWER-MAAAAKEEE UP!"
The room filled with bright lights and special effects. The manager twirled around and flipped and did all sorts of pretty things-carefully hiding the wires that helped him transform behind the blue smoke.
When he emerged-it was a thirty-year-old man-
"IN A SAILOR SUIT!" Wesker raised his eyes, "OH MY GOD! MY EYES! THEY BURN!"
Clarice screamed, "Albert!" her eyes cast upon the unshaved man legs and she fainted.
"HOLY JESUS SWEET MARY!" Annette screamed, "Help me!"
Violet whimpered and curled herself into a fetal position.
"CORPORATE-REMOVAL-POWER-SCEME-ACTIVATE!"
Violet raised her head, "What?"
"CORPORATE-REMOVAL-"
" I heard you." She frowned, "you call that a sailor power? I mean come on! That's just sad. Like-majorly." She pulled herself into a sitting position, "I mean-please. At least include an element if you're going to dress like a puff and such you cretinous mass."
Somewhere, William Birkin added a new line to his list of insults.
"Oookay." The manager sighed, "Fine, how's this?"
"CORPORATE WATER-POWER SCEME ACTIVATE!"
"Somewhat better!" Violet said, "But what does it-"
She froze.
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Somewhere in Scotland.
A woman looked up from her textbook. The computer was just sitting there-idle-doing nothing.
"I think I'll kill off somebody today…" she put down the textbook in a trance, "Yes. Violet. Violet is interfering with study. Study is good…study is good…"
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"Oh dear god!" Clarice pointed, "You-you-YOU TURNED HER INTO A STUDY ZOMBIE!"
Wesker frowned, "what? I must have missed the memo for that development meeting-"
Violet remained curled into a fetal position-froze.
"Now you." The Manager smiled.
"SUPER FIRE DEATH BANISHMENT PUNISHMENT!" A BIG RED BEAM OF SCARY LIGHT bounced out and hit Clarice.
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Alan froze.
Kyle turned around, "What's the matter kid?"
"I just felt a tremor in the force," he said, "as if millions of written voices cried out in terror-then were suddenly slapped with a lawsuit…"
Kyle frowned, "Well fuck that. Lets go find them before Claire leaves."
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Somewhere in The United States.
A young girl looked up from the fridge.
"Honey?" her mom frowned, "Hey- are you okay?"
She reached her computer just in time. She had to kill off someone. Someone important. Something…something…
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A/N: AHAH! The manager is loose! And he's a thirty-year-old man in a sailor suit! Mothers lock up your children!
The characters are in-DANGER!
The plot devices are WREAKING HAVOC in our favorite universe!
And the author's in hospital!
What will we do?
Also. If you think I've been mean I'm sorry. Trust me-retribution is in order.
