Sarah: Yes, this is my one shot ideas fic, O.o ph334 !T'$ L337-3$$

Alucard: ..do I get to kill things?

Sarah: ..maaaaaaaaybe

Andersong: Do I get to slice unholy demons?

Sarah:.....perrrhaaps

Maxwell: do I get to be in it?

Sarah:...probably I am an enrico/integra supporter after all..

Maxwell:

Alucard:...that's..just wrong....

Andersong:..o.o

Sarah: yeah well so is Andersong-sama/Alucard..

Both: OO Run to washroom to vomit

Sarah: That's what I thought. anyway, o.o bewear...first chappy!

Andersong and the metal detector...

Father Andersong looked at his passport and sighed. The seal of Iscariot clearly stamped on, there was no way that he should have to go through hell itself...customs. He felt several sets of eyes on him, he looked around and noticed several heads return to their bored gaze at the front. He muttered angrily and placed a hand on his forehead. "Canadians..'' he muttered. He was eventually, after about what felt like a week, out of customs, and soooo close to boarding his transfer flight to England. 'stupid cheep Maxwell with his bloody 'saving' plans. I could have been killing that hell damned demon by now..' he mused angrily and gripped his cross, trying to remember no outbursts until the undead 'son of a bitch' was in sight. He grinned evily to himself at the plans he had in store for our infamous Nosferatu.

"Father, could you... please step through?" a flight attendant asked.

Andersong snorted in slight anger that someone had disturbed his sick twisted gorey fanticy of maiming Alucard. He opened his eyes slightly and forced a slight smile, he wandered through the door like frame, unfortunately having to duck in the process (apparently it wasn't tall enough). A loud electric beep sounded and Father Andersong grumbled, he had forgotten about one aspect of the flight, the metal detectors. He sighed a heavy, angry sigh and walked back through it. The people behind the father moaned, figuring they were going to be late for their flight, little did they know how right they were.

"Do you have any car keys...loose change on you father?" the small flight attendent (at least compaired to our priest) asked.

Andersong fumbled through his pockets, mentally muttering curses towards Maxwell, ' ' they know all about the vatican's section thirteen,' he says... 'no customs' he says....i'll 'say' a thing or two when I get out of this..' he mused angrily and put a small silver rosary, and about ten dollars of change into the small tray and walked through again.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Andersong moaned and walked back through. "Is that cross metal sir?" the flight attendent asked, pointing at the cross around Father Andersong's neck.

Andersong rolled his eyes, obviously loosing patience and removed the cross we never see him without. He walked through for the third time....

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Andersong sighed as one of the flight attendants picked up a hand held metal detector. "Father do you have any metal implants?....belt buckles.." the flight attendent asked before turning it on.

The priest mentally twitched, it was a sin to lie so, "No...children, I don't.." he muttered, forcing himself to sound decently innocent.

"Okay then.." the flight attendent waved the detector up and down the priest, and for the entire time.........

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Andersong twitched, that sound was getting annoying, and his urge to slice the things into pieces. The flight attendent scratched the back of his head in total confusion. "do you have any other parts...of metal on, or in you sir?"

Andersong shut his eyes for a moment and grinned maniacly. '...time to speed things up a bit..' he mused and opened his eyes, and said as sweetly as he could muster, "what, like these?" He grabbed the edges of his trench coat and pulled them open quickly. A brilliant flash shone off his glasses as he looked into the light, and a maniacal grin spread across his unshaved face. The attendants stared at the possibly hundreds of knives hanging within his coat. Each one of them hit the floor, thud, thud,....thud..thudthud....thudity thud....

Andersong closed his trench coat and smiled, like a normal person, "They're registered with the Vatican, now. I shall be on my way, go with god my children.." he said, retrieving his cross, rosary and change from the table and walking calmly towards his flight.

The passangers behind Andersong stared in disbelief. A young girl spoke up, ".......mommy, I wanna be a priest.."

"No you don't dear.."

[{fin}]
(I NO OWNIE HELLSING! NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WANNA! )