The Ansatsuken Kid Chapter 3: The Fiasco at Church's Chicken, a street fighter fanfic

"My stomach still hurts, you ass!" Buletta managed to yell while still coughing up sand. Akuma could only be heard grunting. "None of this would've happened if you stopped talking like a cryptic, homicidal maniac! If you made just one bit of sense, I would've been satisfied! But noooo!" She was perched on her camel again, but braced it after noticing a strange shape in the horizon. "Is that...a building?" Indeed, it was a small building, peculiar in its loneliness . A figure, vaguely reminiscent of a man, appeared and walked into it. Civilization was within eye's sight. "Hey, Aku, it's a BUILDING!" She pushed her camel on, to reach the seemingly oblivious Akuma. "Buildings usually have PEOPLE! We're saved and shit!"

The only thing of concern to Akuma was replaying his last match with Sagat. Sagat used his fierce punch to knock Akuma off-guard, an unexpectedly pulled out a Tiger Uppercut, and a couple Tiger Shots. Sagat began to enjoy juggling Akuma with the Tiger Shots until he was dealt a final blow with the Tiger Genocide, and one more crouching fierce punch to the stomach, for bravado's sake.

"I am so honorable and shit," Sagat said, believing that Akuma was actually his equal in this fight. "Can I shake your hand, or give you a high five?" Sagat was oblivious to his own god-like powers; every time Sagat used his crouching fierce, a first born child died, and a far off galaxy was obliterated by the mathematical chaos which resulted from Sagat's priority. Akuma stood up, kicked Sagat in his balls, and left.

"Fuck honor," Akuma coldly chanted. That is when Akuma left to meditate in the desert, where he would later run into Buletta. While they were still waiting for their camels to reach the now slightly more visible structure, Buletta decided to pass the time by asking her bounty head a few questions.

"Akuma? What do you think that building is, hmm? A bar? A pawn shop? A Church's Chicken? Come on, take a guess!" After getting tired of the silent treatment, Buletta got off of her camel yet again, and dashed. She so slid on the now smoother sands that she almost missed the empty expression on Akuma's face. "Uh, Akuma?" No response, not for a while. The man who entered the building before had finally walked out of it, carrying an unlabeled plastic bag.

"It's a Church's Chicken."

"Uh, how are you so sure about that?" asked the puzzled Buletta.

"That fool walked into it, and just got his order twenty minutes after." Akuma said, assuredly.

"But what makes that exclusive to Church's Chicken?" Buletta was puzzled.

"It's a long story. But let's just say I'm the owner of the franchise."

"Oh...well, I'm PARCHED and shit! Get me a biscuit and a drumstick or something!" Buletta cheered, and made "w00ting" noises.

"...uh, I don't got African money," Akuma said solemnly.

"Wait a second...don't you own that shit?! Can't you just MAKE them at least give us a meal?!"

"Nope." Upon hearing that, Buletta shrugged, and went off into the now visible Church's Chicken. "But at least we have a joint in Africa. It means we're...BLOWIN' UP."

"Blowin' up...can't even get a meal in your own gotdamn restaurant..." Buletta muttered.

"Why are you going there? This is not on our stop," boomed Akuma.

"Hey, Aku...can you let me have my guns back?" Buletta had asked the question out of the blue.

"Impossible, even if I wanted to. ... I ate them."

"Oh. ... That's retarded. Okay then." She walked at a slightly faster pace, and right into the chicken restaurant. "If we're not going to buy a meal, I'm gonna slaughter everyone in it and take a couple biscuits, maybe a soda and some mac & cheese. That's okay with you?" Buletta walked up to the entrance, cocked her head, and pulled out a bowie knife.

"Please don't tell me you're not going to even consider this blood spree devoid of purpose. The killing intent is only a philosophy on the battleground, for the strong; to kill for there mere sake of killing is a waste of time, and talent! ... And it's bad for business."

"Boo. No biscuit for you then." Buletta threw open the doors, and, a second later, tossed her knife at an employee, barely resembling a man, who ducked in order to avoid a nasty head wound. "Damn, am I getting sloppy?" She saw a terrified little girl with a dog, both trembling underneath a table. Interested in the dog, Buletta ducked underneath the table herself. "What's your name? Hmm?"

"Mi...Mi...Mic..." the girl stammered. She was met with a slap to the face.

"Not you, the dog." Realizing she'd get no answer from the child's pet, she wasted no time harassing the employee who just narrowly avoided her tossed knife. Buletta ran to the counter, and pulled the man by his shoulders, who started speaking in some sort of gibberish Buletta didn't make out. "Let me guess. You're chanting out the name of your random African deity, right? That one's always the best part...It's the 'oh God, please spare my life!' bit that makes this the GREATEST. JOB. EVER!"

"Impudent." Akuma meandered into the Church's, jerked Buletta, and tossed her outside the entrance. He gestured to the employee before he left.

"Sorry about that Blanka. Why'd they transfer you to this Calamari outskirt?"

"MARGH! MMUMB!"

"Oh yeah, there're no anacondas here. Right."

***