AN: Wow...I never actually expected to get reviews. Thanks to:
RenagadePineapple: here is the update!
EgYpTiAnAnUbI: I'm writing...I have a short attention span (think five minutes...) but I really did try to make this chapter longer than the last
NalaravatheRed: You think I have potential to be funny? Oh thank you supreme being!
Anyway, here's the much-awaited (yeah right) 2nd chapter! By the way, from here on out, you'll hear Aerin and Sabra be referred to as "The Psychopath Two". This derives from my own life- my band of friends and I are known as the Psychopath Three. I'm Sabra, and my two best friends are Aerin and Talat.
"Talking normally"
"Thinking"
-Talking telepathically-
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, Mission Impossible, Krazy-Glue, Silly String, The Phantom of the Opera, or anything else appearing in this random fic. I do own Aerin, Sabra, and Talat though- you must talk to ME if you wish to use them! (No animals were hurt in the making of this fic...well maybe one of the rats...but who's counting? ..)
Sabra sat up and stretched, the dawn just poking itself through the mental curtain she'd put up on the window. Time to get up! She was about to step out of bed, when something sped by her. Sabra sighed. "Yes, Aerin?"
"Look what I brought!"
"Oooh!"
"Want some?"
"Yeah..." The two psychos giggled insanely as they studied the green stuff in front of them.
A Few Hours Later
The two girls snuck back into their rooms, having slipped past Walter (with much difficulty) and unloaded the things they had bought at random stores. With a giggle that was closer to hysteria than merriment, Aerin slipped a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket and began to hum the "Mission Impossible" theme song. Sabra divided the stuff on the bed into two piles, then turned to Aerin and made a series of hand signals that looked like sign language. Aerin nodded, looking as though she knew exactly what Sabra was saying.
"Wait, don't tell me you understand what I just signed!"
"Yes. Yes I do."
"But...but I was making it up."
"Who cares!" Aerin stood up, gathering the junk into a black bag. "We attack at... noon. Yes...noon!"
The girls sneaked into Alucard's room first, pulling a can of spray paint from the
bag.
That night, the place was in an uproar. Everything of Alucard's had been spray painted florescent pink. Integra's desk drawers had somehow been booby-trapped to release starved, crazed squirrels whenever anyone entered the room. Seras's coffin resembled nothing so much as a flower-covered parade float, and Walter had an origami frog Krazy-Glued to his head (only God knows how they managed that prank). The floors had been covered in dead leaves and anything else (bookshelves, picture frames, etc.) had been coated in Silly String. And Aerin and Sabra weren't done. All of the troops had had vegetables loaded into their weapons, several sculptures of random cartoon characters had appeared in odd places, and a few plastic flamingos were floating near the ceiling, waiting for someone to walk under them. Integra looked around at the insanity of everything and nearly gave the order for Alucard to kill the girls.
-Methinks we pulled this off marvelously, don't you think?-
-Agreed. What's our next target?-
-Um. . . what do we have left?-
-Pancakes, a Phantom of the Opera soundtrack CD, some paper masks, a corset, two live starved rats, a basket of stale biscuits, several fake slugs, a bottle of syrup, and a feather pillow. Not to mention...the STUFF-
-Commence Operation Fob!-
-Operation Fob? But...but...that's cruel!... Let's do it!- While everyone was debating whether to kill them or not, the Psychopath Two had been floating over everyone's head, counting the remnants of the objects in the bag. Sabra pulled a rat out of the bag, carefully dropping the creature onto Integra's head. Integra yelped in shock, and that was Aerin's cue to pour biscuit crumbs down the front of Seras's shirt. The rat, hungry after the long trip in the bag, leapt straight for the morsels of food. After that, it was complete pandemonium. Integra had dropped her cigar and accidentally ignited some dry leaves. Seras, naturally, was screaming, and Walter and Alucard were busily stomping on the flames. Aerin and Sabra giggled insanely, jumping down from the rafters after putting on the masks and pressing the "play" button on the CD player. The loud opening notes from the Overture on the Phantom soundtrack filtered through the turmoil below.
"The Psy--cho--path- Two are there- inside your mind!" (AN: Listen to the Phantom of the Opera song, then you'll know why they're screaming this). Aerin and Sabra howled, enjoying the look of surprise on their victim's faces. This feeling of glee was quickly replaced by fear, when it was apparent that each and every person was intent on opening a can of pain on the two girls. Sabra began flinging pancakes back, hoping that they would be as effective as calming angry mobs as they were at supplying her with breakfast. Unfortunately, Aerin had accidentally dropped the lid to the syrup, which led their pursuers to believe that this was another practical joke, and continue their chasing with renewed fervor.
-They're gaining!-
-Sabra, I am fully aware of the situation!-
- What are we gonna do what are we gonna do we're gonna die that's what we'll do! We're gonna die that's it for us!-
-Kindly shut up! You were the one flinging pancakes!-
-You dropped the syrup!-
-Uh-oh.-
-What's "uh-oh"? Uh-oh is bad!-
-I'm...losing...energy...becoming...like...William Shatner!-
-Aaahhh! Coming...off...of...high...- Both of them tumbled to the floor (they had been flying) and immediately fell asleep. Walter bent over Sabra and pulled a can of green icing out of her hand. "It would appear they were on a sugar high..." he commented, shaking his head.
AN: Ok, I know EVERYBODY does the William Shatner thing, but I couldn't resist. And as to the "Operation Fob" and the pancakes, these are not mine. I thank you Silvermasque! If you get a chance and you're a Phantom of the Opera phan, I advise reading some of her work, which is much better than this pitiful piece of unfunny writing. The icing incident was something I have really done (minus the levitation.) Ciao!