Chapter 2

Walking down the hiking trail, Tidus felt a sense of foreboding, as if he were being watched . . . nay, observed. He spun dramatically on his heel, twigs flying beneath his overly-advertised Converse shoes. At the end of his 180-degree turn, he found himself face-to-face with the hideous likes of a chipmunk, cheeks bursting with ill-fated acorns. Groaning, Tidus swatted the pesky critter away, embarrassed at his fear of the small rodent.

Despite the termination of the acorn-eating animal, Tidus felt the feeling he was being watched lurking behind still, hiding like a shadow in the forest . . . Or perhaps the shadow in the forest was not a feeling, but a stalking noun. What is a noun, Tidus was often asked because of his odd, queer, crazy, weird, stupid vocabulary? Always, he gave the same answer.

'Well, a noun is a person, a place or A..thing.' Shivering in fear at the thought of a lurking noun, Tidus scrambled to catch up with the others, glancing askance at the sinister forest branches, hanging over the trail, brushing their leaves on the ground.

Suddenly an acorn, thrown at high velocities by the athletic Wakka, hit him in the head, knocking him to the ground, causing a soft thud to echo around them. Tidus knew that if this were his favourite game, Final Fantasy VII, his HP would be quickly deteriorating, leaving him vulnerable to a game over.

But Tidus was not going to lose. Not after moving this far along the trail.

Tidus scrambled to his feet, pulling a stick up with him, for use as a weapon. Strategically placing his feet squarely apart, he assumed a position of defence, bobbing along to the music playing in his head.

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala

After narrowing his eyes, and sifting through the game menus, fumbling with the controllers of his mind, Tidus prepared his Overdrive. Abruptly, he heard a familiar voice calling to him.

"Tidus, man! This isn't Final Fantasy, ya? You don't do that in real life!"

Tidus blinked, and saw that Wakka was not the only who appeared to think he was being foolish. His father hung his head in shame as Auron, beside him, laughed uncontrollably. From behind him, yet another person was shunning his actions.

"Son of Jecht," a soft voice said, "I would appreciate it if you would move yourself, and please, stop flailing that... weapon of yours about; it's dangerous."

At Seymour's voice, Tidus began to fume and quickly dropped the stick, moving to walk past the others. He really didn't like Seymour all that much, because his hair was funny. As Tidus contemplated many ways to get revenge, a thought hit him with such force, he fell over again.

If Seymour could have crazy anime hair in real life, why couldn't he use a crappy, turn-based battle system?

"Tidus, you retard!" This time, it was his father's voice. "Get your ass up off the ground!"

Tidus got up slowly, brushing his pants off and vowing to get a new Buster Sword, so he could fight back against his father. He was pushed roughly ahead, and soon everyone was carrying on with their uneventful hike as it had been before.

Within the next two hours, the only thing exciting that actually happened involved a plate of noodles, a donkey, and some palm trees. Nooj didn't make it.

Other than that, Tidus' walk included a lot of attempts to get O'aka to shut up, but other than that it was all just really, really annoying trips, falls, and accusations of idiocy.

"Look!" Braska said after several hours of nothing, "A water-hole! You know, boys, the water cycle is very interesting."

"No, it's not," Gippal complained, "Let's go."

And received a nicely placed smack in the head from Jecht.

"First, the water evaporates," Braska continued, "Then, it gathers in the clouds an-"

RANDOM ENCOUNTER!

Tidus was already used to the unpredictable appearances that occurred when walking, due to his 500+ hours spent on Final Fantasy VII, so he immediately assumed a fighting position.

He was horrified to find himself face-to-face with Sephiroth himself. Of course, Tidus knew that noone around him could tell it was Sephiroth because he was in disguise. He had cleverly taken the shape of a tree.

"Tidus," someone said, "What the hell is up with you? It's a tree."

Tidus narrowed his eyes. 'That's what you think.' Tidus knew better, and, so, he lunged forward and began to slash wildly at thevertical log(?)Sephiroth was hiding in.

Flailing his arms about, Tidus pwned the tree. When he was positive Sephiroth was dead, or at least gone until the next boss battle, where there were NO IDEAS for a new boss, and so brought back the old, boring one.

Sighing, Braska said, "Let's go home, everybody."

"Yeah," Jecht muttered under his breath, "Before I'm forced to kill him."

Back at the camp, at nighttime, they were all seated, once again, around the campfire, devouring s'mores. Although tonight they were better, because Braska had, as a treat, produced 10 lbs of grease for seasoning, and out-of-date chocolate replacement.

"Hey!" Yaibal suddenly exclaimed. "Look guys!"

Everyone looked up to see a giant meteor, blazing brightly in the sky, falling closer, and closer to the earth. They watched in shock as it crashed in a BURNING BLAZING INFERNO OF LIGHT.

Not ten miles away from their campsite.

"Well," Seymour said absent-mindedly, in his usual uninterested voice. "That was fun while it lasted."

He then proceeded to stuff another s'more in his mouth.

"Oh, kids!" Braska said loudly (and over-happily) "LET'S CHECK IT OUT."

"What?" Gippal asked. "Are you serious? We just got back from one of your hikes!"

"Well, obviously, I meant tomorrow, Gippal." Braska narrowed his eyes, and hunched his shoulders. "We can't go out at night. Oh, no. It's FAR too dangerous out there." Everyone blinked. "An elephant's graveyard is no place for a young prince."

"Braska," Jecht said slowly, scratching his head, "Have you taken your medication?"

Braska glared at Jecht, and dived into his tent with a screech, not unlike that of a monkey.

"Well... I'm not sittin' out here just 'cause you little bastards wanna eat some greased up brownies," Auron said in a 'gruff' voice.

"Actually, sir," Yaibal said, hitting his forehead with side of his hand in salute, "They're s'mores, sir, s'mores!"

Jecht laughed, finally realizing how to handle the over-eager Yaibal.

"At ease, soldier," he said, before getting up himself to move to the Leaders' tent. He turned back to the scouts, sitting around the fire, and pointed to the boys' tents. "Now, move out!"

Yaibal jumped up, happy with the counsellor's newly found enthusiasm.

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

Jecht entered his tent, where Braska was sitting huddled in a corner, his arms wrapped around his knees in a defensive position.

"You know," he chuckled, talking to the disoriented Braska, "It kind of brings me back to my days with the army. Good times, good times. You know, I once killed a man with only a banana peel, a plate of noodles, a LaserJet printer, a softcover copy of Sense and Sensibility, the first issue of The Amazing Spider-Man, a handful of shaving cream, some cuticle oil, a stick of Bazooka Joe Bubblegum, Margaret Atwood's 'Blind Assassin,' a transformer Energon, some lego, a Ra CD, the hair off my back-" Braska stared, amazed at Jecht's creativity and bravery. "-a roller skate, some elastic bands, a straight iron, some POGS, a curling broom, cold Starbuck's coffee, a file of Pokemon Red- there was a level 83 Pikachu on that game, if I recall correctly- some seeds to grow sunflowers with, a 6 inch cold cut from Subway, a cordless mouse, a yoyo, 3 bouncy balls, the fluffing from a pillow, a Wal-Mart coupon- It's a pity; I could've gotten 35 percent off any women's lingerie, you know- a zip disk with a 21356516879563749 word essay on the history of history, an I-pod mp3 player, and a plastic screwdriver... Oh, I think a M-16 assault rifle with attached grenade launcher played a role in it, somehow, although I really can't remember that part."

"...Bullshit," someone, who sounded really gruff, said from behind Jecht. Jecht spun around and came face to face with Auron.

"If I recall correctly, it was me who killed that man, not you; you were off cowering in a corner somewhere. The only way we could ever find you was by following the trail of urine. And there was no shaving cream involved- that was whipped cream obviously. Honestly, Jecht, how do you intend to kill a man with shaving cream? Shave him to death?"

Jecht blushed even deeper.

"IT COULD HAPPEN!"

Braska shook his head, finally coming out of his reverie.

"Come on, you two, that's enough war stories. We'll need lots of energy to get to that meteor. I reckon it's about 8115304 miles from here. That's a long way to walk!"

Soon the leaders were settled in their beds, sleeping peacefully.

la fin.

...Or is it?