Four Feathers by DJ666
We're on to the Merovingian's chateau! Wow . . . from a shanty to a chateau in one chapter flat. I am sooooo good! Perhaps we shall now get a new computer - LOTS of new computers, actually, as a certain foul-mouthed pilot shall finally make his appearance.
Content: Cid Highwind.
Disclaimer: I now own 50.1% of all Square stock. Therefore, expect to see FFVII-2 hitting shelves next month.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Chapter Five:
"Wait a minute," said Vincent. "We're in a bus right now. We found it when we came out of the shanty. But when we got out of the Northern Crater, weren't we in a diesel-powered jet? Our bus was destroyed in our escape attempt!"
"Oh yeah," Yuffie replied, realizing that her companion was right. "What is this thing?"
"I don't know." The vampire pulled the bus to a screeching halt and drew his weapon quickly. "Yuffie?"
"Yeah, Vinnie?"
"Get out your shuriken."
Suddenly, the leathery bat thing from Jeepers Creepers came flying out of nowhere and latched onto Vincent's arm, its claws tearing at his - uh . . . claw. A shuriken swiftly cut the air and lodged itself in the thing's flesh, digging nearly all the way into the body. The monster shrieked, and its vampiric prey took the moment of weakness to pry it off and shoot it in the eye. Now half-blind, the demon spun about wildly, banging its wings on the sides of the bus. Yuffie threw another shuriken at it, and Vincent shot it, point-blank, in the back of the neck. It slumped, motionless, to the floor.
"NOW he's dead," said Yuffie.
"Yeah," Vincent agreed, reloading Death Penalty. They both stared at each other for a second.
"Did you see the movie Scream?" the vampire asked.
They both shot it again. A lot.
Once they were confident that their attacker was dead, the odd couple left their bus by the side of the road. They were just about at their destination, anyway. After a few yards of walking, they found themselves in front of a massive building. The sign said, 'THE MEROVINGIAN'S MANSION. NO, I'M NOT EVIL. I JUST LIKE ORACLES' EYEBALLS.'
Vincent took point, kicking open the doors of the skyscraper and shooting the guards. When the maitre'd came over to ask what they wanted, Vincent shot him, too. Then he went on a few rampages. He cleaned each floor in turn, messily smiting everybody, impaling their corpses on stakes, then getting in the elevator, proceeding to the next floor, and repeating the process.
At floor 69, someone got in. Vincent eyed him warily. He was a slightly disheveled, forty-year-old guy with a bald head and that 'My mama lives with ME!' look about him. He cowered in the corner and cried until Vincent and Yuffie got off again.
"What was HIS problem?" asked the vampire.
"Maybe he knew this dude whose head you're carrying around a stick," suggested his companion.
"Good point."
Together, they entered the restaurant of the Frenchman. He was sitting at a table on a dais at the far side of the room, his steaming hot wife Persephone seated beside him, looking extremely bored. Her eyes lit up as she saw Vincent approaching them, head-stake in one hand and Death Penalty in the other, blood on his face and fire in his heart. She could see the seething rage and hatred within him. But she allowed her husband to speak first.
"Hello, Vincent. Yuffie."
"Hello, Merovingian," greeted the vampire. "Hiya, Merv!" ejaculated his companion.
"Welcome. Please, sit down." He gestured to the seats before him. "Have some wine, I beg of you."
"Please, excuse me for a moment," asked Vincent politely.
"But of course," the Frenchman replied.
Vincent spun about and sprayed the room with machine-gun fire, tearing people apart with the steady slew of bullets flying across the restaurant. Innocents ducked for cover, but the ex-Turk was a fantastic shot; he recalculated each bullet's trajectory and managed to bump off the fat dude crouching under the table with a ricochet that tore through his jugular, spraying his friend with blood. After a minute or so of firing, Vincent ran out of bullets and began beating the few survivors with the head-stake until all had been smited.
"Thank you," said Vincent with genuine gratitude. Sitting back down, he sipped the wine delicately. "Mmm, Chateau Au Bris, 1957, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Very good, sir," answered the Merovingian. "You are quite the wine connoisseur. However, this is not why you have come. You have come for something else."
"Yes," replied Vincent. "We are seeking a man. His name is Jim. He writes fan fictions to the effect that Yuffie and I are partners of a sexual nature. We have found this most displeasing. We understand that your wife has some business dealings with this person, and we'd like to get in touch for a little chat. A little, execution-style chat."
"Oh-kaaaaaaaaaaay," said Merv. "I know this man, and I see no reason why I should give him to you. Therefore, I'm going to go get a rimjob from whoever happens to be in the ladies' room. Good bye."
WHOOSH!
He was gone!
"God-fucking-DAMN IT!" shouted Vincent. "Oh well - come on, Yuffie, let's get out of here. Yuffie?" He spun about, scratching his head. She was nowhere to be seen. So was Persephone. The only people still there were Vincent and some tricked-out vampires in trenchcoats.
"Jesus Christ, why does this ALWAYS happen?"
"No idea," said the vampires.
(The story shall, for spacing purposes, now switch to script style.)
[The VAMPIRES attack VINCENT.]
VAMPIRES: *attack VINCENT*
[He fights them off with his SUPER-KEWL KUNG FU ACTION MOVES and his KICK- ASS UNDEAD REFLEXES.]
VINCENT: *KUNG FU, REFLEXES, ETC.*
[He says WITTY STUFF to them.]
VINCENT: *wittiness*
[They reply with DERISIVE VAMPIRE SNORTS. VINCENT smites them.]
VINCENT: *much wrathful smitage*
(We now return to novel format. Thank you for enjoying this preview of the upcoming film, Vincent vs. the Gang of Vampire Guards Who Were Stuck in the Story for No Particular Reason!)
"Only one vampire left!" said Vincent breathlessly. "Time to die, BITCH!" Then he stopped in his tracks. "Wait a minute - Mephistopheles?"
"Vinky?" asked the other.
In sudden realization that they were old friends, the two stood around silently, nodding slowly. Trust me, translated from Vincent to human, they may as well have been licking each other's faces right now. It was not overlong before Vincent asked, "So, you know Persephone?"
"Yeah."
"Can you get her to give me Jim's address?"
"Yeah."
Awkward silence.
"Uh, so you could, you like, do that now?"
"Yeah."
Vincent stroked his chin. "Uh, maybe you're not getting this: what I'm saying is, 'Get me Persephone'."
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH," said Mephistopheles. "Okay. Just let me take my key - zoop - there we go."
"Well, give me breast implants and call me Blowjob Betsy. A chateau?"
"No, it's a secret hideout in the woods where I come to masturbate to GQ magazine. YES, it's a chateau. Persephone's office is in there. Give her this and she'll give you Jim's address." Mephistopheles made out intensely with Vincent's face for three minutes or so, then began humping his leg. Breaking off the encounter, he said, "Good luck."
And WHOOSH! He was gone.
"Well, here I go . . ."
Vincent grabbed the doorknob and pulled. The slab of wood didn't budge. He grabbed and pushed. Still nothing. Pissed off, he reached into the door and ripped its heart out, putting it in a Chinese take-out box and throwing it on the floor, smashing it into oblivion with his foot.
"Did you even *try* twisting the knob instead of just grabbing on a tugging?"
The voice had come from beyond the door. Casting aside the portal cover, the vampire strode into the office with a purposeful gait. "I am sorry about your door. You are Persephone, the Merovingian's wife? I need your help."
"I know. But why should I give this thing that you desire to you?"
"Because if you don't, I'll rip out your spine and bend you backwards so I can shove your head up your own ass?"
"There is only one thing that will make me do you a favor. Because you made it past Mephistopheles, I assume you know what it is that I seek."
"Yes, I do," answered Vincent. He walked forward, ready to screw Persephone's brains out if he had to, but an outstretched hand stopped him dead in his tracks. "Is there a problem?"
"The secret handshake cannot be done to me. My husband would kill you."
"I can take your pansy-ass husband on anytime, any place. Idiot Frenchman. 'Oh, don't go into Iraq! Saddam is nice! Hole-dwelling bastard. We got his ass NOW!"
"Uh, yeah. That's great. I need you to do the secret handshake to the wall. Then I shall give you what you desire."
"Oh, Jesus. . ." Vincent slapped his forehead. You and your stupid lust for vengeance. Why does your sense of honor have to be as big as your ego? God DAMN it. Well, start doing it.
You hate me, don't you? Vincent asked me silently.
No, I just like watching you dance. Now dance, puppet! Dance! BWAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!
All RIGHT already!
Slowly, smoothly, seductively, Vincent kissed - the wall. He moaned a bit, gasped a bit, stroking its soft white surface and flicking his wet pink tongue across the stale paint. When he had done this for several minutes, he began to hump the doorknob, rolling his hard member across the resistant brass. Finally, Persephone snuck up behind him and pulled him away from the portal.
"Good, good," she said soothingly, massaging his neck. "Now that I know you were not sent to kill me, we can talk in a more comfortable setting. Let's go down to the Dungeons."
"Excuse me?" asked Vincent, shocked but not showing it.
"The Dungeon. It's where my husband keeps his prisoners. I mean, guests. D'OH!"
"Fine, whatever," was the simply reply.
Persephone strolled over to her bookcase and tugged a book, revealing that it was in fact a shoddily-made prop door. "Hurry," she said, before walking through the opening as slowly as she possibly could without falling down, tossing her hips from side-to-side as though she was trying to rip her guest's head of by snapping it sideways with each thrust of her sumptuous rump.
The Dungeon was, mercifully, not what Vincent expected. Or, if it was what he had thought, then Persephone had some serious fetish issues. And Vincent, coffin-dwelling vampire that he was, was definitely NOT the voyeuristic type. Especially not in front of the prisoner shouting "VINCE!! VINNIE, BABY!!! HEY, MOTHERFUCKER!!!" at him.
"Oh, save me, Jeebus. Cid, what the hell are you doing here?"
Indeed, it was none other than the foul-mouthed pilot that was stuck in a cell in the Merovingian's chateau Dungeon. "Hey, Vince. What the fuck am I doin' here? Well, I'll tell ya, fucker. Ya see, I was takin' Merv and Sephy here on their fuckin' honeymoon, all romantic and shit, and Seph was lookin' so fuckin' hot that I had just had to fuck her in her sweet little ass. Her ass is fuckin' nice, goddamnit. Check out that fuckin' ass, fucker."
"Actually, we imprisoned him here because my husband found his tongue so distasteful," explained Persephone.
"Well," explained Vincent, "I'm gonna need him, and Jim's address. And, presumably, his vehicle, if you have it."
"All right," said Persephone. "But first - "
"FOR SHIT'S SAKE, I ALREADY HAD TO FAKE-FUCK FOR YOU, WHAT THE HELL ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?"
"Fine, nothing. Jim's last name is McDonald. He lives in Upper Sector 5, that's all I know. You can scour the place for him, ask around, you know."
"Bu - wh - didn't the Turks say he lived in - "
"SILENCE!" shrieked Persephone. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE YOUR INSOLENCE! HUSBAND!"
"Oh, shit," said Vincent. Turning to Cid's cell, he ripped the door out and grabbed the pilot by the scruff of his neck. "Where's the Highwind, damn it!"
"Why the fuck would they tell me where they put it?" asked Cid. "However, despite the fact that I should have no knowledge whatsoever of this place, I do know that the hangar with the Highwind is the Hangar."
"Which hangar, numbnuts!"
"There's only one fuckin' hangar, dumbass."
Vincent groaned. "Fine, whatever. Now where is Yuffie? We have to go before the Merovingian gets here."
"Ooooh, REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY?" said a pissy French voice.
"Oh, Jesus CHRIST, would you shut UP?"
"Noooooooo," replied the Merovingian.
"Well, just for a second: I love the music in this 'Prince of Persia' commercial."
"Okay."
La la la la la . . .
"All right. Time to die, Merv." Vincent whipped out his twin pistols. "Say 'hi' to Ebony and Ivory!"
"Uh - isn't that Dante from Devil May Cry?"
"Oh yeah. Sorry." Whoosh! Death Penalty was aimed and cocked, an inch from Merv's forehead. "I need to leave. I'm grabbing the Highwind and jetting. See you." He squeezed the trigger. The Merovingian's face exploded into a puddle of - silvery goo.
"God DAMN it, he's a T-1000!"
"I con tik keer aff dees."
"Hey! It's Ah-nuld!"
"No. I om da T-one hondred. Com wit me if you vont to leef."
"Huh?"
"Nottink. I'll heendle da T-one towsand."
"Okay. That's great. Cid, let's jet."
"Sure, fucker." The pair set off at a run. The Terminator pulled a Gattling gun out of his butt and started letting loose. He had used up all his ammo and pulled out his blopper grenade launcher when KRISTANNA LOKEN appeared!
"Oh, no. Da macheens hoff becom smaht enough to sent TWO Teuh-mineetuhs. I om doomt." The trio of death danced the death dance of death. Ah-nuld was no more. But had served his purpose - Vincent and Cid were safe.
"Cid, get the Highwind booted up."
"No fuckin' problem, fucker. Just hold the fuck on and keep your fuckin' ass outta the way of the fuckin' engine blast when I start the bitch."
" . . .right." Vincent blinked. "I have to find Yuffie."
"No shit."
"Do you have any idea where she is?"
"Just follow the fucking screams, fucker."
The vampire sighed. "Must you describe them as 'fucking screams'? Why not just 'screams'?"
"'Cause they are fucking screams, fucker. Yuffie is fucking and screaming. You can hear it."
Vincent's ears perked up.
'Oooooh, HORSERADISH!'
"Wow. You're more useful than I thought."
"No shit, fucker."
"Okay. Stay here and get ready to take off."
"No fuckin' problem. Go find the little fucker and bring her the fuck back before this place fucking explodes, got it, fucker?"
"Who said this place is going to explode?"
"In a vain attempt to create fucking tension and anxiety and shit, the fuckin' author made the place explode on a fuckin' timer. You got ten fuckin' minutes. GO, FUCKER!"
"The Merovingian's chateau will self-destruct in ten fuckin' minutes," said a voice on the PA.
"Shit."
"No shit, fucker."
Vincent turned and ran, following the echoes of Yuffie's ecstasy. The thin walls made it easy for the sound to travel. Although he could block out most comments, the vampire was still struck by a few utterances (most notably, 'Use the cat again - OH, GOD, that's good, God, God, meee-OW!'). Before long, he found her, and in the most obvious place possible - the bathroom.
He broke the door down and barged in. "Yuffie!"
"Vincent!"
"Vincent?"
"Mephistopheles!"
"YOU brought him here? BITCH!" *slap*
"You betrayed me for YUFFIE? BITCH!" *slap*
"You did VINCENT? WOW!"
*blink*
"I mean, BITCH!" *slap*
"What were you two doing?" asked Vincent.
"Making out," explained Yuffie.
"Chestnuts?" asked Mephistopheles.
"Listen, Muffin - we need to go."
The vampire grasped his prey with his legs. "Why?"
"The Merovingian's chateau will self-destruct in five fuckin' minutes," said the PA system.
"Ah. We'd best go."
"Indeed."
All three raced from the room, Yuffie still struggling back into her clothing. In three minutes, they were back at the Highwind. It was powered down.
"CID!" yelled Vincent.
"What, fucker?"
"WHY DIDN'T YOU POWER UP THE SHIP?"
"I did, dumbass. The fuckin' author wanted more suspense and shit, so the fuckin' engines won't start."
"FUCK YOU, AUTHOR!"
Vincent shook a fi
HEY! THAT'S NOT NICE!
Vincent shook a fist at the sky, defying the gods themselves. A lightning bolt erupted from the sky and set him on fire.
"Wow," remarked Yuffie. "He's so hot, he's on fire."
"The Merovingian's chateau will self-destruct in one fuckin' minute. The ship will now start."
"Thanks, fucker!" Cid punched a few buttons and the engines erupted into flame, burning Mephistopheles to a cinder.
"Whoops." A beat passed. "I mean, Whoops, fucker! Jump in, fuckers, the fuckin' ship is leaving the fuckin' chateau!"
"The Merovingian's chateau is self-destructing. Thank you for using AirHighwind. We hope you fly again soon in the event of your survival of the gargantuan scripted explosion. Please remain seated for the duration of the takeoff; please observe that the captain has turned on the 'fasten seatbelt' sign and broken the 'no smoking' decree. Watch the fuck out and enjoy your flight."
"So, where the fuck we goin'?"
"Let's concentrate on surviving, huh?"
"Good idea, fuckers. Upper Sector Five it is."
"Hey, we never told you - "
"Or did you, fuckers?"
Vincent and Yuffie stroked their chins, pondering.
"It's no, fuckers. You didn't tell me, dumbanuses."
"Oh. Then how - "
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!! THE HUGE PRE-SCRIPTED EXPLOSION IS CATCHING UP TO US!!!!! IS THIS THE END???!!!"
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Wow. That has to be the longest posting gap EVER. For me at least.
Frankly, I don't know how the Terminators ended up in the Matrix, or how Cid knows where Jim lives. I don't even know if the trio survives the gargantuan scripted explosion. Merry Christmas, though. I hope I get Knights of the Old Republic. That's a kick-ass game. (read: The next chapter will be full of crap from Knights of the Old Republic.)
Anyway, I'm glad some people read the story and enjoy it. I enjoy it, at least. I don't know if anybody got the FLCL reference up there, but read it again if you want. And in the meantime, get the FLCL series on DVD. It's only six episodes, but it's funny as hell.
Hmm . . . FLCL + KOTOR = next chappie? We'll find out soon enough!
We're on to the Merovingian's chateau! Wow . . . from a shanty to a chateau in one chapter flat. I am sooooo good! Perhaps we shall now get a new computer - LOTS of new computers, actually, as a certain foul-mouthed pilot shall finally make his appearance.
Content: Cid Highwind.
Disclaimer: I now own 50.1% of all Square stock. Therefore, expect to see FFVII-2 hitting shelves next month.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Chapter Five:
"Wait a minute," said Vincent. "We're in a bus right now. We found it when we came out of the shanty. But when we got out of the Northern Crater, weren't we in a diesel-powered jet? Our bus was destroyed in our escape attempt!"
"Oh yeah," Yuffie replied, realizing that her companion was right. "What is this thing?"
"I don't know." The vampire pulled the bus to a screeching halt and drew his weapon quickly. "Yuffie?"
"Yeah, Vinnie?"
"Get out your shuriken."
Suddenly, the leathery bat thing from Jeepers Creepers came flying out of nowhere and latched onto Vincent's arm, its claws tearing at his - uh . . . claw. A shuriken swiftly cut the air and lodged itself in the thing's flesh, digging nearly all the way into the body. The monster shrieked, and its vampiric prey took the moment of weakness to pry it off and shoot it in the eye. Now half-blind, the demon spun about wildly, banging its wings on the sides of the bus. Yuffie threw another shuriken at it, and Vincent shot it, point-blank, in the back of the neck. It slumped, motionless, to the floor.
"NOW he's dead," said Yuffie.
"Yeah," Vincent agreed, reloading Death Penalty. They both stared at each other for a second.
"Did you see the movie Scream?" the vampire asked.
They both shot it again. A lot.
Once they were confident that their attacker was dead, the odd couple left their bus by the side of the road. They were just about at their destination, anyway. After a few yards of walking, they found themselves in front of a massive building. The sign said, 'THE MEROVINGIAN'S MANSION. NO, I'M NOT EVIL. I JUST LIKE ORACLES' EYEBALLS.'
Vincent took point, kicking open the doors of the skyscraper and shooting the guards. When the maitre'd came over to ask what they wanted, Vincent shot him, too. Then he went on a few rampages. He cleaned each floor in turn, messily smiting everybody, impaling their corpses on stakes, then getting in the elevator, proceeding to the next floor, and repeating the process.
At floor 69, someone got in. Vincent eyed him warily. He was a slightly disheveled, forty-year-old guy with a bald head and that 'My mama lives with ME!' look about him. He cowered in the corner and cried until Vincent and Yuffie got off again.
"What was HIS problem?" asked the vampire.
"Maybe he knew this dude whose head you're carrying around a stick," suggested his companion.
"Good point."
Together, they entered the restaurant of the Frenchman. He was sitting at a table on a dais at the far side of the room, his steaming hot wife Persephone seated beside him, looking extremely bored. Her eyes lit up as she saw Vincent approaching them, head-stake in one hand and Death Penalty in the other, blood on his face and fire in his heart. She could see the seething rage and hatred within him. But she allowed her husband to speak first.
"Hello, Vincent. Yuffie."
"Hello, Merovingian," greeted the vampire. "Hiya, Merv!" ejaculated his companion.
"Welcome. Please, sit down." He gestured to the seats before him. "Have some wine, I beg of you."
"Please, excuse me for a moment," asked Vincent politely.
"But of course," the Frenchman replied.
Vincent spun about and sprayed the room with machine-gun fire, tearing people apart with the steady slew of bullets flying across the restaurant. Innocents ducked for cover, but the ex-Turk was a fantastic shot; he recalculated each bullet's trajectory and managed to bump off the fat dude crouching under the table with a ricochet that tore through his jugular, spraying his friend with blood. After a minute or so of firing, Vincent ran out of bullets and began beating the few survivors with the head-stake until all had been smited.
"Thank you," said Vincent with genuine gratitude. Sitting back down, he sipped the wine delicately. "Mmm, Chateau Au Bris, 1957, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Very good, sir," answered the Merovingian. "You are quite the wine connoisseur. However, this is not why you have come. You have come for something else."
"Yes," replied Vincent. "We are seeking a man. His name is Jim. He writes fan fictions to the effect that Yuffie and I are partners of a sexual nature. We have found this most displeasing. We understand that your wife has some business dealings with this person, and we'd like to get in touch for a little chat. A little, execution-style chat."
"Oh-kaaaaaaaaaaay," said Merv. "I know this man, and I see no reason why I should give him to you. Therefore, I'm going to go get a rimjob from whoever happens to be in the ladies' room. Good bye."
WHOOSH!
He was gone!
"God-fucking-DAMN IT!" shouted Vincent. "Oh well - come on, Yuffie, let's get out of here. Yuffie?" He spun about, scratching his head. She was nowhere to be seen. So was Persephone. The only people still there were Vincent and some tricked-out vampires in trenchcoats.
"Jesus Christ, why does this ALWAYS happen?"
"No idea," said the vampires.
(The story shall, for spacing purposes, now switch to script style.)
[The VAMPIRES attack VINCENT.]
VAMPIRES: *attack VINCENT*
[He fights them off with his SUPER-KEWL KUNG FU ACTION MOVES and his KICK- ASS UNDEAD REFLEXES.]
VINCENT: *KUNG FU, REFLEXES, ETC.*
[He says WITTY STUFF to them.]
VINCENT: *wittiness*
[They reply with DERISIVE VAMPIRE SNORTS. VINCENT smites them.]
VINCENT: *much wrathful smitage*
(We now return to novel format. Thank you for enjoying this preview of the upcoming film, Vincent vs. the Gang of Vampire Guards Who Were Stuck in the Story for No Particular Reason!)
"Only one vampire left!" said Vincent breathlessly. "Time to die, BITCH!" Then he stopped in his tracks. "Wait a minute - Mephistopheles?"
"Vinky?" asked the other.
In sudden realization that they were old friends, the two stood around silently, nodding slowly. Trust me, translated from Vincent to human, they may as well have been licking each other's faces right now. It was not overlong before Vincent asked, "So, you know Persephone?"
"Yeah."
"Can you get her to give me Jim's address?"
"Yeah."
Awkward silence.
"Uh, so you could, you like, do that now?"
"Yeah."
Vincent stroked his chin. "Uh, maybe you're not getting this: what I'm saying is, 'Get me Persephone'."
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH," said Mephistopheles. "Okay. Just let me take my key - zoop - there we go."
"Well, give me breast implants and call me Blowjob Betsy. A chateau?"
"No, it's a secret hideout in the woods where I come to masturbate to GQ magazine. YES, it's a chateau. Persephone's office is in there. Give her this and she'll give you Jim's address." Mephistopheles made out intensely with Vincent's face for three minutes or so, then began humping his leg. Breaking off the encounter, he said, "Good luck."
And WHOOSH! He was gone.
"Well, here I go . . ."
Vincent grabbed the doorknob and pulled. The slab of wood didn't budge. He grabbed and pushed. Still nothing. Pissed off, he reached into the door and ripped its heart out, putting it in a Chinese take-out box and throwing it on the floor, smashing it into oblivion with his foot.
"Did you even *try* twisting the knob instead of just grabbing on a tugging?"
The voice had come from beyond the door. Casting aside the portal cover, the vampire strode into the office with a purposeful gait. "I am sorry about your door. You are Persephone, the Merovingian's wife? I need your help."
"I know. But why should I give this thing that you desire to you?"
"Because if you don't, I'll rip out your spine and bend you backwards so I can shove your head up your own ass?"
"There is only one thing that will make me do you a favor. Because you made it past Mephistopheles, I assume you know what it is that I seek."
"Yes, I do," answered Vincent. He walked forward, ready to screw Persephone's brains out if he had to, but an outstretched hand stopped him dead in his tracks. "Is there a problem?"
"The secret handshake cannot be done to me. My husband would kill you."
"I can take your pansy-ass husband on anytime, any place. Idiot Frenchman. 'Oh, don't go into Iraq! Saddam is nice! Hole-dwelling bastard. We got his ass NOW!"
"Uh, yeah. That's great. I need you to do the secret handshake to the wall. Then I shall give you what you desire."
"Oh, Jesus. . ." Vincent slapped his forehead. You and your stupid lust for vengeance. Why does your sense of honor have to be as big as your ego? God DAMN it. Well, start doing it.
You hate me, don't you? Vincent asked me silently.
No, I just like watching you dance. Now dance, puppet! Dance! BWAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!
All RIGHT already!
Slowly, smoothly, seductively, Vincent kissed - the wall. He moaned a bit, gasped a bit, stroking its soft white surface and flicking his wet pink tongue across the stale paint. When he had done this for several minutes, he began to hump the doorknob, rolling his hard member across the resistant brass. Finally, Persephone snuck up behind him and pulled him away from the portal.
"Good, good," she said soothingly, massaging his neck. "Now that I know you were not sent to kill me, we can talk in a more comfortable setting. Let's go down to the Dungeons."
"Excuse me?" asked Vincent, shocked but not showing it.
"The Dungeon. It's where my husband keeps his prisoners. I mean, guests. D'OH!"
"Fine, whatever," was the simply reply.
Persephone strolled over to her bookcase and tugged a book, revealing that it was in fact a shoddily-made prop door. "Hurry," she said, before walking through the opening as slowly as she possibly could without falling down, tossing her hips from side-to-side as though she was trying to rip her guest's head of by snapping it sideways with each thrust of her sumptuous rump.
The Dungeon was, mercifully, not what Vincent expected. Or, if it was what he had thought, then Persephone had some serious fetish issues. And Vincent, coffin-dwelling vampire that he was, was definitely NOT the voyeuristic type. Especially not in front of the prisoner shouting "VINCE!! VINNIE, BABY!!! HEY, MOTHERFUCKER!!!" at him.
"Oh, save me, Jeebus. Cid, what the hell are you doing here?"
Indeed, it was none other than the foul-mouthed pilot that was stuck in a cell in the Merovingian's chateau Dungeon. "Hey, Vince. What the fuck am I doin' here? Well, I'll tell ya, fucker. Ya see, I was takin' Merv and Sephy here on their fuckin' honeymoon, all romantic and shit, and Seph was lookin' so fuckin' hot that I had just had to fuck her in her sweet little ass. Her ass is fuckin' nice, goddamnit. Check out that fuckin' ass, fucker."
"Actually, we imprisoned him here because my husband found his tongue so distasteful," explained Persephone.
"Well," explained Vincent, "I'm gonna need him, and Jim's address. And, presumably, his vehicle, if you have it."
"All right," said Persephone. "But first - "
"FOR SHIT'S SAKE, I ALREADY HAD TO FAKE-FUCK FOR YOU, WHAT THE HELL ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?"
"Fine, nothing. Jim's last name is McDonald. He lives in Upper Sector 5, that's all I know. You can scour the place for him, ask around, you know."
"Bu - wh - didn't the Turks say he lived in - "
"SILENCE!" shrieked Persephone. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE YOUR INSOLENCE! HUSBAND!"
"Oh, shit," said Vincent. Turning to Cid's cell, he ripped the door out and grabbed the pilot by the scruff of his neck. "Where's the Highwind, damn it!"
"Why the fuck would they tell me where they put it?" asked Cid. "However, despite the fact that I should have no knowledge whatsoever of this place, I do know that the hangar with the Highwind is the Hangar."
"Which hangar, numbnuts!"
"There's only one fuckin' hangar, dumbass."
Vincent groaned. "Fine, whatever. Now where is Yuffie? We have to go before the Merovingian gets here."
"Ooooh, REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY?" said a pissy French voice.
"Oh, Jesus CHRIST, would you shut UP?"
"Noooooooo," replied the Merovingian.
"Well, just for a second: I love the music in this 'Prince of Persia' commercial."
"Okay."
La la la la la . . .
"All right. Time to die, Merv." Vincent whipped out his twin pistols. "Say 'hi' to Ebony and Ivory!"
"Uh - isn't that Dante from Devil May Cry?"
"Oh yeah. Sorry." Whoosh! Death Penalty was aimed and cocked, an inch from Merv's forehead. "I need to leave. I'm grabbing the Highwind and jetting. See you." He squeezed the trigger. The Merovingian's face exploded into a puddle of - silvery goo.
"God DAMN it, he's a T-1000!"
"I con tik keer aff dees."
"Hey! It's Ah-nuld!"
"No. I om da T-one hondred. Com wit me if you vont to leef."
"Huh?"
"Nottink. I'll heendle da T-one towsand."
"Okay. That's great. Cid, let's jet."
"Sure, fucker." The pair set off at a run. The Terminator pulled a Gattling gun out of his butt and started letting loose. He had used up all his ammo and pulled out his blopper grenade launcher when KRISTANNA LOKEN appeared!
"Oh, no. Da macheens hoff becom smaht enough to sent TWO Teuh-mineetuhs. I om doomt." The trio of death danced the death dance of death. Ah-nuld was no more. But had served his purpose - Vincent and Cid were safe.
"Cid, get the Highwind booted up."
"No fuckin' problem, fucker. Just hold the fuck on and keep your fuckin' ass outta the way of the fuckin' engine blast when I start the bitch."
" . . .right." Vincent blinked. "I have to find Yuffie."
"No shit."
"Do you have any idea where she is?"
"Just follow the fucking screams, fucker."
The vampire sighed. "Must you describe them as 'fucking screams'? Why not just 'screams'?"
"'Cause they are fucking screams, fucker. Yuffie is fucking and screaming. You can hear it."
Vincent's ears perked up.
'Oooooh, HORSERADISH!'
"Wow. You're more useful than I thought."
"No shit, fucker."
"Okay. Stay here and get ready to take off."
"No fuckin' problem. Go find the little fucker and bring her the fuck back before this place fucking explodes, got it, fucker?"
"Who said this place is going to explode?"
"In a vain attempt to create fucking tension and anxiety and shit, the fuckin' author made the place explode on a fuckin' timer. You got ten fuckin' minutes. GO, FUCKER!"
"The Merovingian's chateau will self-destruct in ten fuckin' minutes," said a voice on the PA.
"Shit."
"No shit, fucker."
Vincent turned and ran, following the echoes of Yuffie's ecstasy. The thin walls made it easy for the sound to travel. Although he could block out most comments, the vampire was still struck by a few utterances (most notably, 'Use the cat again - OH, GOD, that's good, God, God, meee-OW!'). Before long, he found her, and in the most obvious place possible - the bathroom.
He broke the door down and barged in. "Yuffie!"
"Vincent!"
"Vincent?"
"Mephistopheles!"
"YOU brought him here? BITCH!" *slap*
"You betrayed me for YUFFIE? BITCH!" *slap*
"You did VINCENT? WOW!"
*blink*
"I mean, BITCH!" *slap*
"What were you two doing?" asked Vincent.
"Making out," explained Yuffie.
"Chestnuts?" asked Mephistopheles.
"Listen, Muffin - we need to go."
The vampire grasped his prey with his legs. "Why?"
"The Merovingian's chateau will self-destruct in five fuckin' minutes," said the PA system.
"Ah. We'd best go."
"Indeed."
All three raced from the room, Yuffie still struggling back into her clothing. In three minutes, they were back at the Highwind. It was powered down.
"CID!" yelled Vincent.
"What, fucker?"
"WHY DIDN'T YOU POWER UP THE SHIP?"
"I did, dumbass. The fuckin' author wanted more suspense and shit, so the fuckin' engines won't start."
"FUCK YOU, AUTHOR!"
Vincent shook a fi
HEY! THAT'S NOT NICE!
Vincent shook a fist at the sky, defying the gods themselves. A lightning bolt erupted from the sky and set him on fire.
"Wow," remarked Yuffie. "He's so hot, he's on fire."
"The Merovingian's chateau will self-destruct in one fuckin' minute. The ship will now start."
"Thanks, fucker!" Cid punched a few buttons and the engines erupted into flame, burning Mephistopheles to a cinder.
"Whoops." A beat passed. "I mean, Whoops, fucker! Jump in, fuckers, the fuckin' ship is leaving the fuckin' chateau!"
"The Merovingian's chateau is self-destructing. Thank you for using AirHighwind. We hope you fly again soon in the event of your survival of the gargantuan scripted explosion. Please remain seated for the duration of the takeoff; please observe that the captain has turned on the 'fasten seatbelt' sign and broken the 'no smoking' decree. Watch the fuck out and enjoy your flight."
"So, where the fuck we goin'?"
"Let's concentrate on surviving, huh?"
"Good idea, fuckers. Upper Sector Five it is."
"Hey, we never told you - "
"Or did you, fuckers?"
Vincent and Yuffie stroked their chins, pondering.
"It's no, fuckers. You didn't tell me, dumbanuses."
"Oh. Then how - "
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!! THE HUGE PRE-SCRIPTED EXPLOSION IS CATCHING UP TO US!!!!! IS THIS THE END???!!!"
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Wow. That has to be the longest posting gap EVER. For me at least.
Frankly, I don't know how the Terminators ended up in the Matrix, or how Cid knows where Jim lives. I don't even know if the trio survives the gargantuan scripted explosion. Merry Christmas, though. I hope I get Knights of the Old Republic. That's a kick-ass game. (read: The next chapter will be full of crap from Knights of the Old Republic.)
Anyway, I'm glad some people read the story and enjoy it. I enjoy it, at least. I don't know if anybody got the FLCL reference up there, but read it again if you want. And in the meantime, get the FLCL series on DVD. It's only six episodes, but it's funny as hell.
Hmm . . . FLCL + KOTOR = next chappie? We'll find out soon enough!
