The Boring Pre-story Crap: Greetings, I am Phobos-Hell, the one who will be presenting this fanfic unto you - the populous of aspiring writers of this site. It's a MGS2 fic, you know. Kick ass game, too. But I'm lazy, so in case you notice some missing things or false facts, uh, get over it? JK I haven't played it in a while, and it uh…it takes place in an alternate universe. Second of all, Kojima Hideo Sama, I am sorry for butchering your script and degrading your characters in such ways that would bring a man to tears ( or at least say ew really loud).
(Bows to Kojima Shrine) Of course, I do not own any of the plot, script (except the parts that are supposed to be funny but will have people saying What the Fuck?), characters, or tampons. Nor do I own the skill of crafting a complex tapestry of plot twists and mind-bending, mind numbing, pants-soiling storylines - that belongs to the master himself - Hideo, Hideo, Hideo…
Setting: Some big ass building over some big ass sea. The marine water treatment plant: the 'Big Shell'. (Big 'Shell'? Hmm…sign of things to come, maybe?)
From the briny deep, a slim man in a skull suit ascends into the 'Shell's bay. Even though a kinky-looking mask covers his face, his silky blonde hair flows free and unfettered - ah, fuck this guy's description, he's a fag. You get the picture, don't ya?
Believe it or not, folks, this guy - Raiden - is the hero of the story. The main honcho, and the big shit himself - Colonel Campbell - calls this dude up.
Campbell: Raiden, do you copy?
Raiden's Codec ringtone pops up: Mail, mothafucka! Mail, mothafucka!
Raiden: (voice sounds all weird - kinda like he's about to molest somebody) Yes, I'm here. I rode some kick-ass waves on the way, too. Wicked A!
Campbell: What the hell is wrong with your voice? You sound like Micheal Jackson on crack.
Raiden: (Pouts like a punk-ass bitch) Are you gonna poking fun at me the whole mission?
Cambell: Hmm, probably. Can't say it doesn't sound promising. Anyway, we need code names - cause people who don't are just gay.
Raiden: But, Raiden is my code name. You know my real name is -
Campbell: No, no, no. (holds up finger) NEVER interrupt the colonel while he's talking. It gets him very…flustered. As I was saying before somebody started bitching, you will be Agent Dipshit. As for me, call me…(puts on cape and toots kazoo) GW!
(To all MGS2 players: we all know who that is, don't we?)
Raiden: (Pondering) Dipshit…sounds familiar. That's what Rose called me when I used this kid's birthday balloon as a condom. (Realizes something) Hey, that's an insult! I don't like that name! Where is Rose anyway, isn't she supposed to be on this mission, too? It says so in the Sons of Liberty manual…
(Muffling noises in the background) Campbell: Uh…she's sick. Screw the code names, then. Just take off the mask.
Raiden: (sounding nervous) I…I…I cant! If I do, something bad will happen!
Campbell: Ah, quit your whining. I'm a colonel, and you're a lowly fag - do what I say!
Raiden takes off mask, revealing his faggish good looks. Campbell thinks otherwise, though.
Campbell: Good God, man! Put that thing back on! That's gotta be illegal!
Raiden: Told you, Colonel. (Tries to put it on, but it wont fit) Aww, shit….
Raiden notices little floating boxes containing a SOCOM, a P90, and other dangerous shit. ( I know the P90 isn't at the 'Shell, but who cares? It's my fic!)
Campbell: (gasps) How'd you get that? You're not supposed to get the item 'dangerous shit' until you get to the armory!
Raiden: (holds up Action Replay MAX) Cheat codes, mothafucka!
Campbell: (scoffs) What a pussy…
Raiden: No thanks, I prefer men.
Getting closer to the door, Raiden stumbles upon a box of tampons.
Raiden: Is this some kind of sick joke! Who left these here? Colonel?
Campbell: Wasn't me. Some bitch must have left them. What would a girl be doing in a place like this, though? Well Raiden don't let 'em go to waste, though! (laughs wildly at Raiden)
Raiden: I hate my life - I'm gonna kill myself!
Colonel: No, don't do that! You can't die until MGS4 comes out. Besides, don't be offended by my words. I'm just a extremely deceptive, adaptive artificial intelligence program formulated by the world-moving, underground organization called the PATRIOTS. I am only a malevolent figment of your pedophilic imagination, created to lead you into a virtual, matrix-esque trap for fools based on Metal Gear Solid. Your entire mission will be nothing more than a complex web of half-truths and whole-lies - lies carefully woven from and into the dangerous essence that is: Metal Gear Solid. You are in a maze of conspiracies - playing a degrading, pitiful role as a rat looking for cheese. What is the cheese? TRUTH! Who is that rat? YOU!
Raiden: (sniffing tampons) No shit? Hey, this one's been used already!
Campbell: God, I can't wait till this is over…