Round 2
Entry 7:
You bastards are persuasive. I had every intention of taking this notebook and chucking it in a landfill, but two things stopped me:
1.) There are weirdos out there who make it a hobby to sift through other people's junk (one of the mysteries of the world…I mean, think about it. Say someone tossed out used boxers. Who in their right mind would want used boxers? Another dude's crotch rubbed all over them. So, if random person A puts them on in their used state, that's the equivalent of direct crotch to crotch contact. Nasty. Makes me feel dirty, and I'm not even the one doing it!) If one of these rogue garbage hunters happen to get their hands on this thing…well, those are the types of people whom I don't want to have access to my thoughts. Period.
2.) The notebook is red. I'm sure you're both sitting there all smug and proud of your ingenious plot, I can just see it. You knew I wouldn't be able to resist a red notebook, which is the reason why you made sure to give me one with a red cover. I can't help that red's my favorite color. It just is. And you took advantage of me. I don't particularly care for being taken advantage of. Not high on my list of my favorite things.
Look out. Mr. Chipmunk is now Mr. Irritated Chipmunk, and he's coming for you. Don't sleep tonight, or I'll sneak in while you're passed out and chomp you to death. With my chipmunk teeth. And my chipmunk cheeks. Though cheeks don't exactly chomp, do they? They're just…kind of there.
And I suppose chipmunks don't chomp, either. It's more like they nibble.
Hmm…
"I'LL NIBBLE YOU TO DEATH!"
That doesn't sound scary.
Sounds like a toddler who has more gums than teeth, and about all they can manage is to drool on you.
Gaara, the great and terrible drool machine! Lock your doors! Bar your windows! Retreat to the storm cellar!
Riiiight.
I'm not your average chipmunk, so if I want to chomp, then I'm gonna chomp!
Nyah!
"HAH! What did I tell you? I knew he'd write more."
"You didn't tell me anything. I knew he would, too."
"Don't be a smart ass."
"But I'm so good at being a smart ass. It's in my nature."
"It's also in your nature to carry around dolls and wear makeup."
"Karasu is not a doll! He's a puppet!"
"What's the difference? They're both inanimate objects commonly played with by children."
A spluttering noise. "You…I…this…"
"Go on. Spit it out."
"You're evil incarnate."
"Aww! How sweet."
Time for a change of topic. "You know, I think you started something with the chipmunks."
"It certainly seems that way, doesn't it?" A snort. "Nibble…" Giggles. "Gaara's definitely not a nibbler."
"He does drool from time to time, though."
Breathless laughter. "Only when he's possessed. He doesn't drool normally."
"And if he ever gets wind of this conversation, we're screwed."
"Up the ass."
"With a crowbar."
"…..."
"Maybe not a crowbar."
Entry 8:
Why is it that every time I decide to let loose and enjoy myself a little, someone inevitably walks in on me and makes me feel like a total douche bag?
Take last week.
So, there I was, being my Kazekage self, strolling through the house aimlessly, when I took a little detour to the foyer. The one with all those shiny marble tiles. That had just been polished.
A.k.a. ' hella good surface for sliding on.'
Now, since you know me, you know that I have never before indulged in such immature delights as sliding across a polished marble floor in my stocking feet (I actually put socks on for this very purpose), however there must have been some contagion in the air that results in an inclination to engage in juvenile behaviors when inhaled, because I was suddenly filled with the urge to just go.
And damn, did I go.
The floor was very slippery. More than I anticipated. I kind of lost control at one point.
I'll bet you can guess what happened next.
Just as I was getting ready to barrel into a wall, who walks in but a couple of my advisors, a.k.a. people who are NOT supposed to witness the Kazekage sliding down a hall, and of his own will, at that.
This is what they heard and saw:
'DAMN IT! AUGH!" –Insert redhead sans eyebrows windmilling his arms around in the air to keep his balance while his pretty Kazekage robes tangle around his feet—"SONOFABITCH! MOTHER EFFING SHIT!" –Redhead is saved from colliding with a decorative table by his defective sand and the tangling of the pretty Kazekage robes becomes steadily worse—"YEAAAAAAAAUGH! (and other assorted sounds)"—Redhead loses battle with robes and his feet go flying from under him, at which point his sand saves the day again and catches him before he can crack his head on the shiny polished marble tiles.
That is what happened, verbatim.
I kid you not.
My advisors did a bad job of concealing their amusement, and they didn't even stop after I glared at them—probably because I was still in a heap on the floor.
No more polished marble tile sliding for me.
Guh. My hand's cramping up. I'll continue later.
Temari had a stitch in her side, and tears rolled down her face as she howled with laughter. "Floors…" she wheezed, "Gaara…sliding…"
Kakuro found himself in a similar state.
He was smart, however, and did not try to say anything until he caught his breath.
"Oh lord…I'm so pissed we missed that!"
Temari still had not regained her composure.
"Sliding…Gaara…" She literally shook like a leaf with mirth.
Her brother examined her with a somewhat concerned look on his face.
"Are you having a hernia?"
"Huh?" She calmed a bit. "A hernia?"
"Yeah. I heard people double over and clutch their sides like that when they get one."
"Where the hell did you hear that?"
"Somewhere."
"Gee whiz, Kankuro, that's helpful."
A pause.
"Did you just say gee whiz?"
"………."
"HAHAHA! YOU DID!"
"Shut up!"
"Well, shucks, I don't know if I can." Snicker, snicker.
Once again, crashing noises could be heard.
"DIE!"
Entry 9: (I need to come up with a more creative title for these…)
Where was I? Oh, right, today's little misadventure.
So I had my headphones on in the council room (I spend my life in there anymore, it seems…), waiting for the rabble I was supposed to meet with to arrive, and reading over some stupid report on burnooses (don't ask…I have no control over the crap that reaches my desk…).
Kankuro has made this observation once before—and I thwacked you good afterward, didn't I?—but I sort of…selectively chose to forget about it until now. Whenever I read with my headphones on, I tend to zone out and…and…
And I sing.
The horror.
OH THE HORROR!
Remember, folks, I'm Gaara. One-time murderer extraordinaire. Possessed of Shukaku, all-time psychotic, irrational, used-to-dance-the-polka beastie. (He really told me that he danced the polka. He may have been tripped out on something in my bloodstream, but that's what he said, I swear).
Shukaku cannot sing.
Neither can Gaara.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
Another bad situation.
While I was reading and waiting,a really catchy song came on, and I couldn't help myself. I started singing. Loudly. I'm sure I was off key, too.
In marches the predictable outcome……wait for it…
…wait for it…
I was caught.
Fate must be getting back at me for the atrocities I've committed in my not-so-distant past. Between that and the floor tile incident, I don't know if I've ever been so embarrassed…and I'll bet I just cursed myself for making that claim. Damn.
Ah, good times in Kazekage-land.
Snorts. "He really can't sing. The sounds that come out of his mouth call to mind a dying moose."
"I could've sworn I shut you up."
"I told you. I'm durable."
A pause.
"Moose? Why a moose?"
"Because. Have you ever heard a moose? They make this goofy 'MOOOOK!' noise. So a dying moose would be…like…'MWAWOOKAAAaaaaaaaa!' or something of the sort."
Another, much lengthier pause.
"That…was…disturbing. Please, for the love of all things holy, don't do that again. Ever."
"Mook."
"Kankuro."
"Moo-ook!"
"Kankuro."
"MOOOOOOK!"
"DAMN IT, KANKURO!"
"Meow."
The longest pause yet.
"I loathe you utterly."
"Point for me."
Stream-of-Consciousness 10: (That's dumb…gah…)
All right, hold the presses, BIG BREAKING NEWS!
I have recently acquired a copy of the infamous reading material commonly seen in the hands of one Hatake Kakashi, masked pervert and former sensei to one Uzumaki Naruto (twit), entitled (and justly, I might add) Icha Icha Paradise.
Holy. Frigging. Crap.
There is a reason for that 'restricted' symbol on the back cover, make no mistake.
I mean, this is some pretty heavy stuff, man.
Enough to put hair on the chest of a two-year-old.
Would it be bad if I admitted that I liked it?
Seriously, I'm a teenage MALE, for cripes sake. My raging hormones have not been allowed to rage…ever…so the only alternative they had was to simmer impatiently under my skin for a few ice ages while I went on crack-induced killing frenzies and listened to Shukaku bitch at me about going to sleep so he could wreak havoc using my body.
Oh, and did I mention my sand? Yeah, it talks too. In Mom's voice. She's an annoying old bag, and she needs to die already and leave me the hell alone so I can get new sand that actually works.
My point is, I'm a teenager, I'm a guy, and I'm horny.
Is that blunt enough?
I think it's absolutely hilarious that everyone has this preconceived notion that I'm androgynous in practice. And don't even try to deny it, my dearest siblings, because I'd know you're lying.
'He's Gaara. He's not interested in all that.'
My name has become associated with a way of life, I've noticed.
Here's another secret for you.
I am interested.
I like girls. (I just don't understand them).
I do appreciate a nice ass.
And…as evidenced from my Sexy no Jutsu delirium…chests are good. Very good.
GASP! SHOCK!
Now we will await the end of the world…the sky is falling…pigs are flying…
Gaara is a boy. Gaara is not an it.
Gaara is talking about himself in third person. Gaara needs to stop, or he'll make Gaara mad.
You notice how my entries are getting longer? Maybe the apocalypse really is coming…
But, oh, Icha Icha Paradise.
For as much as Kakashi's a moron lacking taste (ahem, HAIR?), he knows how to pick books.
Mmmm…Icha Icha…
And, f.y.i., if either of you flap your jaws about this, I'll personally lop off your heads and roast 'em over a cooking fire. Make s'mores.
Yum.
"Well that was rude."
"What was?"
"He still doesn't trust us! I mean, this is the type of information that we should feel special about knowing, so we can assume a mysterious physique in the presence of other, less fortunate individuals who are out of the loop, you know? Like, 'Ha, ha! We know the Kazekage better than you ever will! Suckers!' Get it?"
"No."
"You're just cheesed off because I trumped your ass twice now."
"Kankuro—"
"La, la, la, laaa!"
"YOU'RE IMPOSSIBLE!"
"And Gaara likes a good rack. There's a surprise." A devious cackle. "Poor Temari. Even if you weren't his sister, Gaara wouldn't give you a second glance. You've got anthills for bo—"
The puppet-wielding young man was unable to complete his statement due to the fan that whacked him in the mouth, rendering him, for the moment, speechless.
"Bastard!"
The peanut gallery remained silent.
"Anthills…humph! I do not have anthills! What the hell were you doing looking at my boobs anyway, you sick perv? I'm your sister!"
Comment from Kankuro?
"Mmphh." Rough translation: You psycho bitch! My teeth are broken!
"ARGH!"
"Mrrrph!" Kankuro speechifier: Damn it! I can't feel my mouth! There's blood gushing everywhere!
"HOLD UP!" Temari's eyes gleamed. "How did Gaara get a copy of Icha Icha Paradise?"
"….." –What? I'm psychic? How the hell should I know?
"Dude…someone must've bought it for him, because he's not eighteen yet. But who, though?" She held her chin, completely ignoring Kankuro, who continued to empty out his veins through the gash in his mouth.
"……" –I'm gonna to bleed to death. This sucks.
Random Crap 11: (That one's not good, either).
Well damn, I believe admitting that I am not an asexual lump has opened up the floodgates for all sorts of unsettling visions…
I had another daydream. About myself. In Sexy no Jutsu form. And—this is where it gets completely effed up—I was there, too. Hot chica me and…normal me.
Would I make this up?
I am telling you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Oh, Shukaku was there, also. Drunk as a skunk on acid. Dancing polka.
I'm rather troubled about the state of my mental processes, I must admit. They are completely jacked up…more so than usual.
I can't take it anymore! I have to get this out.
I MADE OUT WITH MYSELF!
Yes, you read that correctly.
I.
MADE.
OUT.
WITH.
MYSELF.
—Dramatic pause here—
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Wrong. So…wrong…
But I was hot! I couldn't help it! I had this little red dress on, and my hair was all…mussed…and those lips…and that chest…
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Lips…chest…
GAH!
I've decided that Naruto is going to die. It's his fault. If he hadn't invented that ridiculous jutsu, I wouldn't be having issues right now. DAMN IT! NARUTO, YOU'RE DRAGGING ME DOWN THE ROAD OF DEPRAVITY!
Gaara is in the middle of a crisis. Gaara must attend counseling. Shukaku needs to SHUT UP…laughing bastard…
Isn't this fun?
This is what I put up with every single day.
Insomnia is a bitch.
The end.
—CHOMP—
Made out with myself…lord help me…I'm a modern-day Narcissus…
Kankuro still had not regained the use of his voice, however he did manage to get the bleeding under control by stuffing a towel in his mouth. Quite an intelligent decision, because he would have started gushing all over again from laughing had he not.
Temari developed an intimate relationship with the carpet. She made a series of squeaking noises as she tried to draw breath around her chortles, quite unconcerned about how this scene may appear to bystanders.
Given the Kazekage's incredible streak of good fortune, he happened to be one of those lucky bystanders. Huzzah!
"I don't know whether or not to be mortified, or hack you both to pieces instead."
"Mrrph!" –You're the one who wrote the stuff, fartface. It's your own damn fault you're in this position!
"Gaara," Temari wheezed, "you are…possibly…the funniest…person…I have...ever...met."
"My, how wonderful," the redhead deadpanned, rolling his eyes skyward. "Had your fill now? Can I carry on with my life?"
"Where did you get Icha Icha Paradise?"
The room went so quiet, one could hear a pin drop.
"I'm Kazekage," Gaara finally replied. "I have access to everything."
His sister could not help but feel a tad disappointed. "That's not a suitable answer! Who gave it to you?"
"My aunt Bertha."
Kankuro snorted into his towel.
Temari turned an interesting shade of purple.
"WE DON'T HAVE AN AUNT BERTHA!"
"Oh?" Gaara said nonchalantly. "Bummer."
With that, he turned on his heel and left, whistling a strange little tune and smirking as Temari's anguished wail provided accompaniment.
When he said the Kazekage had access to everything, he meant it.
Time to do a little reading of my own…
HEHEHEHEHEHE.
Wheee!
So, I have two more chapters planned after this, one for Temari, and one for Kankuro :smirks: That should be fun, ne? I'm also thinking of making a 'Confessions of' for Sasuke and Orochimaru. Sound good? XD
Thanks for the reviews, guys! They made my day! I'm glad you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!