Somewhere in a charming/foofy little teashop, Ani and Neo sit drinking coffee at a table. No one is certain as to why these two did not simply go to a coffee shop, but no one will ask because few people like to be Matrix'd and Force Chok'd. Right, so Ani and Neo are drinking coffee, and also deep in a discussion, or maybe an argument, about the best types of hairstyles to make the fangirls go wild.
"Honestly, Ani, every one knows that women like dark hair," Neo says, sounding just a bit condescending.
"No no no, Neo, I'm quite sure you're ever so wrong," Ani says, sounding more condescending, "Women are really quite fond of the long, ragged, and unkempt look. It's more suggestive, if you know what I mean," he continues, then leans back in his chair to take a pull on his Hot Cuppa Joe, confident that he's winning the argument.
"Tsk tsk, Ani, really now, the quote, ragged and unkempt look, unquote, just makes you look dirty and uncivilized," Neo says as he sips delicately at his Latte o' Matte.
"Actually, Neo, it gives a man a rugged and sexy look, which just drives the fangirls wild. They can't get enough of it. Plus, it's great to run the fingers through, which you hardly do with," he gives a contemptuous sniff, "gelled hair. That will just make your hands gooey."
"Actually, Ani, the gelled look gives a woman the impression that said gelled-haired man knows he is in fact a sexeh badass, and so is confident. Women love a confident man." He gives Ani a look over his cup as he takes another sip. "Perhaps maybe that would account for your poor communication skills with Padme, hm?"
"Oh, I have 'poor communication' skills now?" Ani is becoming annoyed. "What about you and Trinity?"
"What about us? We are quite happy together. And," here he pauses for greater effect, "we have great sex." He smirks triumphantly, enjoying his Latte o' Matte.
"But, but," Ani flounders, not knowing if Neo is lying, for he has never seen the Matrix trilogy, and it is clear to him by now that the other Chosen One has indeed seen at least the newer Star Wars trilogy. "Well, fine, whatever, but I still think that the ragged and unkempt look is better for one's hair."
"And what proof do you have of that?"
"This!" Ani waves his hand, and Aragorn, Faramir, and Boromir zoom over, by the power of the Force invested in Ani. "There! You see? These three men merely have to turn towards the audience, and fangirls will faint with pleasure. And why? Because of the hair! Nobody really cares what they look like, so long as they have great hair!" At last victorious, Ani can once again drink his coffee. Meanwhile, the rugged sexeh men from the Lord of the Rings trilogy stand uncomfortably, not sure whether they should run away yet.
"Hmm.." Neo says, as he gets up and slowly begins to walk around Gondor's Finest, inspecting them from every angle. He finally stops at Aragorn, who has neglected to bathe for the last few weeks. "Well, I must admit the other two are quite exceptional, but this one..." he pauses, as though lost in thought, "this one, honestly, do women really go for the 'unbathed' look?" his voice has become scornful, the knowledge that he himself is quite clean evident for all to see.
Aragorn is not really sure what to do. He opens his mouth to ask if he can go home now, when suddenly!
"AQUAMENTI!" someone squeals.
Water shoots out of Aragorn's mouth, spraying everyone, especially Neo, who had been right in front of him at the time. Neo screeches like a banshee with rage, and backhand-slaps Aragorn with his leathah glove.
"You imbecile! This water will totally ruin all my leathah! How dare you! Do you know how much this much black leathah costs! More than your little 'kingdom,' that's for damn sure!"
"Chosen, here, let me help get the water off!" Ani says, trying to calm Neo, and also to make him put down the table.
"Oh, it's all over..I'll never be able to fight again in these ruined rags!" Neo sinks to his knees, his face in his hands, crying piteously, like a man weeping like a whiny, annoying child. "And not only is my outfit ruined, but my hair is too!" he suddenly yells, feeling his sodden hair, now profusely slimy, as the gel has unhardened. His hair has become floppy as well.
"Come now, Neo, darling, it's not that bad, we'll sue these ugly men and make it all better, there there," Ani croons softly. The table now sits on its side on the floor, a leg broken off from when Neo dropped it.
Just then, in the midst of the grief, who should show up but Harry Potter, who had ducked under a conveniently placed table when Neo spazzed out.
"It is I, Harry Potter, the true Chosen One!" he yells, his voice like a poorly tuned radio. Everyone winces at the high-pitchedness. "I have come to liberate you all from these...these fakes!" he continues, gesticulating madly at Ani and Neo, the latter still sobbing, the former still attempting to make it all better. Harry continues talking, but no one really cares, and most people leave, due to his painfully crackling voice. Aragorn, Faramir, and Boromir take this opportunity to nance away, before they can be Force Grabbed again.
"Stop! That's enough!" Ani suddenly shrieks. "Can't you see what you've done! You've made him cry with your stupid spell!" Harry is suddenly 'forced' snerk to turn around, where he is confronted by the older and sexier man. "Look!" Harry looks. "You've ruined his outfit! You wretched child, you are truly undeserving!"
"Undeserving of what?" Harry asks, and is promptly bitch-slapped for his insensitiveness.
"EVERYTHING!" and with that, Ani, like, backhands the Boy Who Lived, and ka-ra-tay Force -chops him, doing a knick-knack on his spine-o(WTF?). The blue-eyed child is floor'd. Ani laughs maniacally for a bit, then remembers Neo, who is still sobbing at his feet. As Ani looks down at the tousled, brackishly-black head, his heart does a little skippy thing. He shakes his head furiously, smacks himself a bit, runs his fingers through his lusciously rugged hair, thumps his chest, fixes his wedgie, clears his throat, and crouches down to comfort Neo.
"There there, love, I've done away with the pest, it's all better now," Ani coos, stroking the leathah meystah's back, hardly aware of what he is saying, or how it could be entirely misconstrued by innocent bystanders only just now tuning in. Ani does not notice the others, for he can only see Neo.
Neo, for his part, is slowly, ever so slowly, recovering, and, though his face is in his hands, he's not really crying anymore, but, rather, looking surreptitiously at Anakin's crotch, which is mere inches away, as the attractive Jedi is still in a crouching position. Finally, he gains some semblance of control over himself and slowly raises himself up. Ani rises with him, his hand still on his back.
"Are...are you going to be okay? Neo?" the blondish Chosen One asks tentatively.
"I-I think so," says the brunet Chosen One, trying to sound manly and sexeh, never mind that he was just sobbing over the ruination of his favourite leathah trenchcoat, the designer of which may very well be forever unknown to the rest of us lowly earth-dwellers.
Despite Neo's tragedy, his angsty bitching is nothing to that of Kurt Cobain, who, being somehow miraculously brought to life through like, a miracle of science and stuff, walks in. He's not sure how he got to this obscure little tea shop, and God forbid he should actually know why he's there, except that the author is currently reading his biography, Heavier Than Heaven, and feels no small amount of pity and love for this blue-eyed beauty of all that is angsty and woeful, and, well, beautiful. That being said, Jimi Hendrix jaunts in, as the author has read his biography, Room Full Of Mirrors, and loves Jimi, too. Jimi's neither confused, nor particularly concerned with the psychodelic's authors whims and fancies, though no allusions will be made to drug-induced euphoria or stuff like that as a cause for his non-caringness. No, really, I swear.
Kurt finally decides that as long as he's here, he'll have some tea, and pretend to be some obscure British wanker. Jimi, toting his quirky guitar that he personally restrung for his left-handedness, sits down and starts to play the opening notes to "Voodoo Chile," then begins to murmur the words softly under his breath.
Ani and Neo turn their heads away from such sights, and concentrate on the matter at hand. That annoying Potter boi is still out cold, and they need to figure out what to do with the body, since leaving it there might scare away the tea shop's potential customers. Besides, it's an eyesore, nobody wants to look at that thing. So, with "Voodoo Chile" as their 'mood' music(which freaks both of them out to no end; not that they'll admit it or anything), they each grab an end of the body and drag it('cause it's so damn heavy) out from under the table. Anakin then uses the power of the Force to pry up the floorboards as quietly as possible. Oddly, but conveniently enough, there is but empty space below, and so they drag Harry's limp carcass over to the hole, where they promptly shove it in. They wait for a splash, or at least some indication that the kid actually lands and doesn't end up falling through some infinite abyss for all of eternity. I mean, that would suck, right?
Jimi, sensing a need for the change of 'mood' music, starts playing "All Along The Watchtower," which is apparently a Bob Dylan song, redone by Jimi to honor his hero. It is, in all affairs, a totally phunkadelic remake, but it only serves to give Neo and Ani the heebie-jeebies, because they suddenly get the impression that they are the guards on the watchtower, and, erm, Harry's going to kill them or something. Maybe. Well, anywayz, they cover up the hole real quick-like, and prepare to haul ass. Jimi hails them off with his whacked-out, totally trippy, kick-ass version of The Star-Spangled Banner that he once played at a little show called Woodstock. Kurt, looking up from his tea, decides to sing to the song, even though, with Jimi's version, you're not really supposed to. Thus, Jimi plays louder('cause he had an amp up his sleeve XD), trying to drown out the blue-eyed blond. Kurt sings louder, Jimi plays louder, and so on. Meanwhile, the Chosen Two have already hauled ass outta there, and disappear into a wrinkle in the space-time continuum. Or it could just be a glitch in the Matrix. Or the Force. Or...something, if anything at all. 8D
THE END