It was one month later, and FTEB was brooding in her evil room (Do we see an evil trend developing?). There wasn't enough--there wasn't enough evil. The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic had come out. . .not enough evil. That simply wouldn't do.
FTEB rose from her evil bed and sat in her evil chair at her evil computer. She knew what to do. She would make the world cower before her! BWAHAH--hm. Sorry (not really).
She would evilly fabricate something so evil that it would make the evil gods in the evil depths of the evil dimensions shrink away in fear. She would create. . .The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic.
Wait. Déjà vu. Already did that.
Very well then. She would create. . .The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic. . .
. . .II!
And now, like an evil sequel succeeding an originally bad evil movie, comes:
The Evil Ultimate Fake Fanfic II: The Sequel
by FTEB
Ryo and Dee sat at their desks, quickly finishing their paper work.
Why were they hurrying so?
Because the quicker they finished, the quicker they could go home. . . winkwink
Hey, hey, hey! Get your minds out of the gutter, you freaks, it's true! Geez. . . Can't I say anything without it being taken as some kind of degenerate innuendo?
Plus, a happy worker was a busy worker. And Ryo and Dee were happy.
Why?
Read the prequel. Or, if you're too lazy, I'll just tell you.
Dee was happy because: a) Ryo loved him. He had heard him with his own ears (mind you, Dee heard it with his own ears; that doesn't mean it came out of Ryo's own mouth). b) He now knew that Lieutenant Rose was no competition. Ryo had been there, tried that, and passed it over. And as gross as that image was, it had a kind of comfort to it. c) Dee had gotten some make-out time with Ryo (always a good thing). d) He had gotten to sound really romantic and give some seriously cool lines. And finally, e) (this one I'd have to tell you either way) Ryo's birthday was coming up, and wonderful images of presents and thank you cards were drifting through his head. winkwink
You can take that one which ever way you want.
As for Ryo, well, he's always happy. He's just a contented suck-up who goes through each day with a cherub-like smile on his face. Ryo's weird. And also, being courted with the aforementioned cool, poetic lines makes anyone feel good.
And thus, both guys were working away with goofy grins on their faces when Berkeley Rose walked in. He was wearing a silk Italian three-piece suit, leather loafers, a Rolex, and five gold rings. Two diamond, one sapphire, one ruby, one emerald. Berkeley Rose likes to dress up.
Now, people say that Berkeley threw his career out the window for Ryo just by transferring into the no-good 27th Precinct. They don't know the half of it. Can anyone really believe that Berkeley is just some lowly Commissioner? Right. He was probably trained to be some kind of government agent (think James Bond) who got paid a million bucks a day. I mean, really. We're talking about a police officer who comes dressed to work as if he just got back from a formal ball. Either he has some money stacked up from days of old, or he has another source of income. I think he robs banks.
And now, our expensively dressed, fashion-conscious Commissioner strode over to the two men. "Come on. There's a hostage situation on Jefferson Avenue. I'm giving you two the assignment. I'll also come along."
"Why do you think we need you?" Dee demanded.
"You need my superior calculating and speaking abilities." Arrogant as anything, but give credit where credit is due.
"Oh, yeah? Well, get a load of this." Dee took Berkeley's hands and got a soulful look in his eyes. "'You are the person I wake up in the morning to see, and the one I go to sleep at night to dream of. You are my one sun in a star-less universe. Without you. . .there would be no universe, for me. You are the sea, you are the earth, you are the sky. . . You are my everything. . .my--'"
"Ahem."
Dee stopped and turned to his partner. Ryo was standing with his arms crossed and something alike to daggers in his eyes.
"Ahem."
Dee turned back to his Commissioner. Berkeley was standing with his arms uncrossed, and with a patronizingly inquiring look on his face.
"Detective Latener, what was that supposed to be? And let go of my hands!"
Dee yanked back his hands in embarrassed disgust. "That was just a demonstration! Don't get any stupid ideas."
"Oh, but I do get ideas. Unlike you."
Man. Berkeley's harsh. What a cut. Almost as good as the disease scenario. My ears are burning. Ow.
Straightening his back, Berkeley walked over to Ryo. "Come. Detective McLane, I'm looking forward to working with you. Always a pleasure."
Subtle.
"I specifically wanted you,"--Berkeley coughed-- "on this case."
What? The flu is going around.
"I'm sure you'll be of great help," he continued. "Just keep your defenses up." Suddenly, Berkeley punched Ryo in the stomach. As Ryo gasped and crouched forward, the Commissioner stepped up to him, caught him at the waist, and kissed him.
Don't get mad at me. This isn't my fault. Berkeley Rose is desperate and hungry for affection. You want to fix the situation, give him a hug, but I'm staying out of it.
Dee's reflexes swung into action. He quickly jumped to Ryo's rescue and began pulling Berkeley off by his shiny hair. When Ryo had finally gotten free, Dee (our hero!) let go of Berkeley and stepped back, angrily. "What the hell was that supposed to be?!"
Berkeley immediately smoothed his hair and regained his composure. "That was a demonstration. Just like yours."
Good point.
"Detective McLane," he continued, "you should work on your reflexes. We'll try this again sometime. Latener--good work. Now get your coats and meet me downstairs. I'll get a vehicle ready."
That's right. We forgot about the hostage. Oh, well.
Berkeley left.
"Are you all right?" Dee asked Ryo.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
Is he ever!
"Okay, then let's go. And be careful around Rose. I'll get that guy. . ."
Unfortunately, though, he won't. Beating up your employer is just not a good idea in the modern-day workplace.
Thus, Dee and Ryo left, and the matter of the kiss was forever abandoned.
Which simply doesn't work. Now then, let's start off by saying that Fake is a wonderfully researched series. But there are two things that Matoh Sanami has not accounted for. One of them, we'll save for later. The other, we'll deal with now. Fake takes place in America--in money loving, blame-pinning America. And America is the land of law-suits. Realistically, half the characters in Fake would be out of a job and faced with large fines (possibly even jail time). Can we say 'sexual harassment'?
Ryo, in a believable world, would have pressed charges against Berkeley ages ago. Seriously. Berkeley, who is Ryo's superior, aside from the rare physical attacks, as 'demonstrated' in the story, "pays extra attention to Ryo, making him feel uncomfortable." That's the verbatim definition of sexual harassment in the workplace. Get a Webster's and look it up. (And if that's not it, go ahead and sue me, but you'd only be proving my earlier point.)
However, both Ryo and Matoh Sanami are too nice for anything like that, and so nothing is done. I don't buy it, but I guess it's not my call.
Actually, it is my call. Everything is within my power. I can. . .
I think we're getting a bit off topic. Indeed. By this time, the three cops had pulled over by a worn down apartment building. It wasn't the hostage site; it was JJ's home. They had decided they needed a fourth person to handle the situation, and so decided to pick up JJ, who had already finished his shift. And, if the situation was so desperate, why they decided to make this delaying stop on the way, I don't know. No one in Fake is very efficient. (Unless you put Dee in a room alone with Ryo, and then, man oh man, does he make good use of his time.) Dee had volunteered to get JJ; he knew the junior officer would be more willing to come along after his shift was over if he asked. Ryo volunteered to go with Dee; he didn't trust what JJ would do to Dee on his own home turf.
And so, the two beautiful (sorry, I had to put that in somewhere) cops rode up in the elevator and found JJ's apartment, #666. Dee knocked, and saw that the door was unlocked. With a shrug, he pushed it open and looked inside.
And, by God, what a sight it was.
Most busy young men with horrible taste live in messy mud holes that resemble pig sties more than they do human residencies. One would expect to find the floor strewn with banana peels, dirty clothes, dirty napkins, dirty dishes, and dirty magazines.
JJ's was nothing like that. His looked more like a room of a crazed Satanist ('course, who knows). The living room had no lamps, and the only light came from the hundreds of candles placed throughout. The room was otherwise entirely bare, save for a single wooden table in the center, where a thick, decorated candle was slowly burning. The walls were covered with pictures of Dee: Dee's office, Dee's apartment, Dee walking home, Dee at the grocery store, Dee at the mall, Dee sleeping at his desk, Dee in the shower (how'd that get there?), Dee eating. . . The very top of the walls was bordered by a line of script reading, "DeeDeeDeeDeeDee. . ." It wound through the room and continued into the halls and doors.
And on the far wall, obscured almost beyond recognition by dart holes, was an enlarged photograph of Ryo, with horns, a pitchfork, broken teeth, and a mustache scribbled on with magic marker.
"What in the name of. . .?" Dee began.
At that point, JJ popped into the room. "Dee-Sempai!" Then he saw the horrified expressions of the two men. Slowly, he turned and looked around.
Heheh. This is going to be interesting.
"What is this, JJ?" Ryo asked.
JJ smiled. "Oh, is this what you're worried about? Don't be silly. This is just left over from Halloween."
Good save.
"Why did you build a shrine devoted to me for Halloween?!" Dee demanded.
"To scare off the Trick-or-Treaters."
Touché.
"And why is it still up?"
"I don't have time to get it down."
"And where is the furniture?"
"Furniture? What do you think they pay me?"
"And what's with the candles?"
"Power outage."
Dee considered. "Oh. Okay."
Dee never was the brightest.
Ryo pondered for a second, then dropped the problem. "Well, weren't you going to do something?"
"Yes," JJ said. "DEE-SEMPAI!" Blindly, JJ lurched forth and launched himself at Dee, enveloping him in a death grip.
"Get off me, JJ!" Dee screamed angrily, shoving and finally kicking the love-struck fanatic away.
"I was talking to Dee," Ryo clarified as soon as JJ was a safe three centimeters away.
"No," Dee said. "No, I've changed my mind. I don't think it's such a good idea after all. Just. . .run!"
Quickly, the two cops bolted out of the room, down the emergency staircase, and rode off in the car before JJ knew what was happening.
"What about JJ?" Berkeley inquired as he drove.
"Change of plans," Dee muttered.
"Oh, well. Anyway, I just received word that the hostage crisis has been resolved. The suspect passed out because of the hostage's perfume, and some officers have already taken him into custody."
"What? Then why did we come out here?"
"I don't know. I didn't plan this."
Yup. That would be my fault. Sweatdrop
"Don't be upset," Ryo said to Dee. "At least you learned something about JJ that might prove useful."
Dee grimaced. "JJ? That guy's cr--" Suddenly, an idea struck Dee. "Of course!"
Dee and Ryo were sitting in Ryo's living room with a bottle of wine.
"To you," Dee toasted. "Enjoy your birthday, and have many more."
Great toast. Oh, well. Kumpai!
Setting down his glass, Dee smiled. "And now, my present to you."
Ryo blushed. "You didn't have to get me anything, Dee."
"Of course I did. Everyone knows that if you wanna get some, you have to buy flowers and pre. . ." Dee stopped. "If you want to get some respect, that is. Respect, Ryo! Get back over here and quit flashing me that funny look. Anyway, I had some trouble deciding what to get you. I mean, what do you do in your spare time? Cook? I certainly couldn't get you a cookbook. I don't really know what you read; your books never have titles on them--what are they, anyway? At any rate, I couldn't get you a certificate; that doesn't stack up too many points on the. . .Er, I mean, you're worth more thought than that. And as for clothing, well, I doubt you'd be willing to put on anything I bought for you."
Ryo's blush deepened. He doubted it as well.
I sure wouldn't mind it, though.
Heheheh. . .
Um.
"And so," Dee concluded, "I finally decided on this."
"On what?"
"Follow me. I know you'll love it." Dee stood, led Ryo to his room, and opened the door.
The walls were plastered with candid (not that kind of candid, you hentais!) pictures of Dee.
"Now I can be with you twenty-four seven!"
Ryo paused. Ryo blinked. Ryo screamed. "Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!"
Dee leaned back and gazed perplexedly at Ryo's quickly retreating form.
Damn.
It would take a bit more than the respect line to get Ryo to come near him again this time.
Based on this reaction, he just hoped Ryo didn't chance to see his room.
That would be a doozy.
Yet another evil chapter of our evil story draws to an end. This one came closer to an evil plot, but alas, procrastination let the evil problem resolve itself.
To note, FTEB was in this fic parodying the actual Fake series. After careful deliberation, she decided that bringing an already evil institution such as Fake fanfiction to a new low ultimately accomplished less evil than taking a thing originally good and turning it into an evil product. Think of it as an evil math problem; you waste too much of your time finding an answer you never really wanted to know.
Until we meet again, then, FTEB bids you an evil adieu.