Title: As Wrong As It Gets

Author: Whyyy

Rating: R

Category: Crap

Summary: SpikexVicious, which is…as wrong as it gets, in my humble opinion. Hence the title.

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters. Or Gatorade. If this surprises you…that's ok. You still have my permission and blessing to read this fanfic.

Warning: Extreme hardcore…stupidity. Probably made even more unbearable since I decided to completely SHAME the art of writing in script format…thingy. Not sure there's a technical term for that. And since I take a strange pleasure in writing warnings, I will also add, as in all previous chapters, given that it's SPIKEXVICIOUS, that there is lots of OOC. Wow I used a fanfic abbreviation! I feel like some sort of…fanfic writing veteran!! Ooh, and this chapter is a little longer, I think, largely because of all the spacing, since it's in script format…thingy, so there's prolonged exposure here. Your brain just may rot, turning you into a ZOMBIE. Also, I'm not sure if this really counts as a warning, but I refer to Ed as a girl, although I know some people might not agree or something, so if you think Ed is something else, neato and have a great life.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: This chapter is a birthday-ish dedication to my friend Matt for liking my fanfic and putting it in his profile with a cool hyperlink thing that I have no idea how to do and thus am in great awe of. Happy Birthday Matt!

narcoleptic shishkabob – Glad you liked the lightsabers! :) Maybe more fun should be had with Star Wars in later chapters…

authenticpoppy – Hmm, I hadn't actually considered the legality of the matter. I think, if an angel wants some lovin', lawmakers certainly wouldn't want to deny him that. On the other hand, if it's rape, yeah, definitely illegal. For Mars, anyway. P

Nis-chan – Aww I hope I added this chapter soon enough, and if not, terribly sorry for the wait!

Tokyo Jazz – I'm honored to have the privilege of fking you up. And allow me to congratulate you on having a superb sense of humor!

Ami-kun22 – It sure is, and maybe a little roommate torture P.

Vegetasbride1669 – Thanks for the review! Here's your continuation!

g50 – I want you to know that nothing is as touching as the fact that you created an account solely to review this fic. As a writer, there is no greater or fulfilling reward as the knowledge of having touched another through his/her work…except for the GBA SP and Golden Sun. Or those Girl Scout cookies (Tagalongs, were they?). And your review, by the way, is a work of art in itself. I'm terribly sorry it got cut off, but maybe it's better that way; otherwise, it might just go all to my head, and then I'd be…a bad person. Again, if you did not read the additional note, this chapter is for YOU!

Dominic Shade – Weeelll, if you want to be technical about it, the category says Crap. And if you want to be more detailed about it, it's about Spike raping Vicious. Either way, it's good fun, eh?

Abunai – Wowee, thanks! I am most flattered. May you continue to enjoy my story, or at least not hate it!

tpp – Thank you, thank you, and thank you again! And pimp as much as you like!

anime animal – Thanks for the instant faving! And if I ever want babies, I'll be sure to let you know.

chibi legato – Heh, you're probably sick, but so am I, so it's all fine!

Chapter 6 – The Wrong-ness Tries Its Hand At Script Format…Thingy

Jet was aghast. Agape and agog. Dumbfounded and dumbstruck. Flabbergasted and flustered. And maybe even a little turned on, as his longtime compadre Spike paraded back onto the ship with an unconscious and naked Vicious slung over his shoulder like a bag of trash (nonrecyclables only; Jet was very conscious of how trees were used of course).

Faye looked like she too might have something annoying to say, but it was hard to tell since she was crouching on her hands and knees on the sofa, and she'd stuck her physical butt in the air (her cigarette butt was placed responsibly somewhere…like somewhere else on the sofa), and was currently wiggling it around. Not an uncommon action from Faye, although slightly rarer than her usual leggy poses and gratuitous booby shots and slightly more frequent than her random extraneous grunts and sighs in the dub. Still, it would have been nice to hear her opinion, since Jet was still too busy being stunned and oafish and competing with the dynamic duo, Ed and Ein, for comic relief. Ed generally dominated the competition, but she lost points now and then for starting wars and genocide over what her gender was when all she really has to do is say clearly just once, "I am a girl/boy/Oompa Loompa, damnit."

Speaking of genocide, the crew had reunited with Ed and Ein during the infamous…Jambalya Man and his Couscous gang incident. Don't remember such an incident? That's too bad and also normal. But it was quite the adventure. So yeah, Ed was currently singing and doing some physically crazy but uproariously funny antic. Braiding her tongue or something. Who knows? And Ein was doing what any super intelligent dog would be doing, licking his crotch. Ed grinned widely at Spike as he trundled over. "Hi, Spike."

"Hi, Ed."

"What's that you got over your shoulder?"

"Uhh, my shoulder, you say?" Insert nervous laughter and sweatdrops. Sweatdrops, by the way, are really sort of disturbing. Sure, sweat that trickles makes sense because there's gravity and a trickle-path and stuff. But beaded sweat…beaded sweat is one tricky bastard. It's as if, some of the sweat glands are all ready to go, and the others are just not up to the job or something. And Neon Gatorade sweat doesn't count because the people who sweat neon Gatorade sweat always look…angry, and no one cares about angry people sweat. But back to the nonexistent point, sweatdrops have no stream in between the drops. Sweatdrops sporadically burgeon out of nowhere. When one looks at someone's, say, bead-sweating cheek, they go, "Oh okay, here we have normal skin, skin, skin…OHMIGOD A GIANT PROTRUDING SWEATDROP…oh okay okay, here we go, skin, skin, more skin…HOLY CRAPOLA ANOTHER SWEATDROP…" and so on. Right? …right…but back to Ed.

It's a good thing Ed was not someone easily taken aback by disturbing things, being one herself. She was probably on very good terms with sweatdrops, come to think of it. So, she just continued to smile at Spike. "Yeah, you're carrying something over your shoulder. It kind of looks like a naked man." She thought for a very fleeting second. "Or maybe that giant awesome sombrero and poncho you had for maybe two hours tops during that one bounty hunt for no reason, and then lost, also for no reason."

Vicious chose this moment to wake up, naturally; how could he not, after hearing Ed disparage his nude form? "I most certainly do not look like a sombrero and poncho! Especially not Spike's sombrero and poncho!" And, then, everyone decided to start talking. And now, since dialogue in paragraph form takes longer to write out with who said "ewerjakdfjaw" and who said "lskdjfoiweaj" and time is money…

The Script Format…Thingy Section

(complete with stage directions so you can reenact it with your friends!)

Spike: (to Vicious) How would you know? You weren't there when I was wearing them. (to Ed) I did not lost the sombrero or poncho. I brought them back on the ship, and after a few weeks, they disappeared.

Jet: (finally finding his voice) Well, I didn't take them.

Faye or Faye's Ass (FoFA): Me neither.

Vicious: One doesn't have to see the sombrero or poncho to know I do not look like either!

Ein: (exits the room because he's smarter than the rest of them put together)

Spike: (to FoFA): What are you doing over there anyway with your butt in the air?

FoFA: Do I really need a reason to have my butt in the air? What else am I supposed to do if not act as blatant fanservice?

Spike: I dunno, but I want a reason.

FoFA: Fine. I lost a quarter. Fell down between the cracks, you know?

Spike: Oh ok, I hate it when that happens.

Vicious: …are you people listening to me?

Spike: Yeah, sure. You don't like sombreros or ponchos because they're Mexican.

Vicious: I—what?? That's not what I said at all!

Spike: It was implied.

Vicious: That's a filthy lie!

Ed: (sings) Filthy, filthy, filthy… (skips out of the room because the conversation is demented enough without her in it)

Spike: Oh, so you think Mexicans are filthy now, do you? Really, Vicious, I thought you were more open-minded than that.

Jet: Yeah, we don't condone racism on this ship.

Vicious: I'm not being racist! Not that I care about being condoned on this ship.

Jet: By the way, Spike, what is he doing here?

Spike: He's my rapee.

Faye: (standing up from the sofa) Your what?

Spike: My rapee. I'm the raper, he's the rapee.

Jet: You mean, 'rapist'?

Spike: Oh yeah, that's it.

Vicious: Uhh, your sofa is on fire from Faye's cigarette. (is not really heard)

Spike: (to Jet and Faye) Sorry, I was thinking of an 'employer' and 'employee'.

Jet: Quite alright. But since it's not 'raper', 'rapee' probably isn't the right term for Vicious.

Faye: True dat. So what would that make him?

Spike, Jet, Faye: (silence as they ponder, deep in thought)

Vicious: Excuse me, but your sofa is being ravaged by flames!

Spike: Oh, ravage is a good word. Could he be my 'ravagee'?

Jet: Hey, you might have something there.

Faye: Eh, it sounds too much like 'refugee' or something.

Vicious: Need…fire extinguisher!!!

Jet: Okay, we're getting carried away. None of this is urgent right now. We should really discuss—

Vicious: How to put the damn fire out?!?

Jet: (to Vicious) No, shut up you tit. (to Spike) I want to know why you raped him.

Faye: Oh yeah, I was sort of wondering that myself.

Spike: Well, it all happened was a bright, sunny day on, let's say, Mars, and I was sauntering along on a bustling city street dressed in his weird blue suit, just looking cool and all that. And smoking, of course, because I liked smoking a lot. I also liked being emotionally-repressed. It made me feel macho or cool or something. Why? Because guys are stupid. It's a universal fact—

Jet: This sounds strangely familiar.

Faye: Spike, if you don't mind, could we have the short version? I need to get back to wiggling my ass.

Vicious: (passed out from smoke intake)

Spike: Oh ok, lemme put Vicious down, he's getting kind of heavy.

(Vicious's head slams into the metal flooring of the ship and regains consciousness, albeit groggily)

Vicious: (weakly) …nnngghh…

Faye: Actually, I really need to do some sexy posing on the couch, maybe expose my breasts a little. (looks over at giant living room fire) Or I'll go do an unnecessary scene where I stand and let the water drip slowly down my wet skin, instead of scrubbing and splashing myself.

Jet: Sounds like a plan.

Spike: Yep, can't argue with that. But I need the bathroom afterwards to…clean up.

Faye: Sure, sure. (saunters off skankily)

Jet: I think I'll go…water my bonsais.

Spike: (snickers)

Jet: What?

Spike: …nothing.

Jet: (leaves the room to…water his bonsais)

Spike: (to nobody) I guess I'll just…go…to…my room… (goes to his room)

Vicious: …ohhh my head… (wakes up to find himself surrounded by fire and screams like a little girl) AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!

End of the Script Format…Thingy Section (congratulations on making it this far)

Fear not. The Bebop and its crew did not go down in flames, although that would have been something to see. But after all, how could Vicious just die after one sexual harassment incident? That's hardly climatic. So as it turned out, Vicious used his great resourcefulness and, uhhh, stamped out the fire with his bare feet. Which is as likely weird bulletproof clown killer who can fly and that happened! So way to go, Vicious!