WARNINGS

TITLE: One Pink Tutu

CHAPTER: Chapter Three - "This Pink Flamingo Place"

AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia

BETA: Maniacs Edge

RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)

DISCLAIMERS: The usual... we do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Anyone who has seen 'The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert' will find the title of what group is performing this week amusing. Those who have not -- see it.

It was Morpheus. This, again, was unusual. Though none of the crew knew why, he usually kept a good distance from the monitors. He would only say that the code made his head spin, but some of them secretly suspected it was a bad experience before their time, and the rest of them were afraid to speculate about him. Either way, there Morpheus was now, talking to Neo, and Neo had better listen when Morpheus spoke.
"We need you to go down to the theater on 46th street. There has been a considerable increase in Agent activity there, and it is crucial you discover what they are planning." That was typical Morpheus, being so serious. Yes, Neo did ponder many things about him, but the one question that came to mind the most was if he ever laughed. Not that there was much to laugh at, but the point was he never seemed to be happy. Maybe it was Niobe...maybe he was still emotional about what Cypher did...maybe the realization the war might not ever end disturbed him... Oh what did it matter? At least it gave him something to think about on those sleepless nights Trinity didn't sneak into his bed, even if he never would know the answer. He could always ask Morpheus himself, but when it came down to that he would rather have his plugs skewered out with flaming screwdrivers.
"Are you up to this Neo?" He would have to think about that for a minute. Why did they care what Agents were doing at a theater? No, it wasn't up to him to decide that. His job was to fight, and that didn't require much thinking. So he should get back to that right now and just say yes. If he could simply make his mouth work, that is. He felt as though someone had sealed it again. He mumbled a few times, and then finally the words came out. "Yeah. Yeah I'll handle it. Shouldn't take long, and that's not too far away."
He felt better already. Putting his life on the line again would be just dandy. He always got away, he was Neo, The One, Superman, he was invincible! At least if he pretended it was good for his ego. Link came back on the line and told him it was clear, he unbolted the door and started back the way he came.
When he reached the corner where the phone booth was he turned the corner and followed Dame down to 46th and looked up and down the block for the theater. Finally he laid eyes on it, but it wasn't much to gape at. Rusty letters across the top spelled out "F L A M I N G O". The doors were at one time bright pink, but had now faded to the color of Pepto Bismol vomited back up. Or at least what he thought Pepto Bismol looked like. Maybe that wasn't what it really looked like. Maybe the machines got it wrong. Maybe there wasn't even any such thing. Mouse had taught him to think like that, and it made him miss the little squeaker. Annoying as he was, he lightened the mood and he was good to have around.
He surveyed the rest of the building, but there wasn't much else to see. It was falling apart, even the ad "THIS WEEK: Priscilla & the Pussy Cats in Pink" that had just been hung. Nobody seemed to be around, so he headed to the entrance, checked one more time, and went through the doors like a queen making her royal arrival. And on the other side of the door, he saw there was a queen.