An: Update! Um, part of this is supposed to have alot of typos.

"Hiiiiii Numbuh 4," some ten year old KND agent smiled at me.

"Hi," I replied.

She flipped her brown hair from her face. "So, can I get you something to drink?"

"No," I answered.

"Its my jooooob."

God, her voice was annoying. All drawed out and whiny. "No thaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks," I imitated.

"Oh, one drink won't hurt. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese?"

"Fine, whatever. Just, can you go away? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese?" I asked.

"Okay! I'll get you a soda. I know it's your favorite."

"How do you . . . " but she was already gone, shaking her hips like she's all that. Then she tripped over her heels. I nearly died laughing.

I couldn't believe it. I was at the party! The lighting was dim so it was pretty hard to see anything, and the music was blasting some crappy techno music, but it was still awesome! Only a couple people were

dancing . . .

Is that Kuki dancing with some guy?

Okay, I better cool down . . . Oh no, he did NOT just put his arm around her!

What's she laughing so hard about?

That's it, I'm going over ther-

"Here's your sooooooooooooooda!" The girl came back, cradling a glass filled with the amber liquid. "I'm Numbuh 769, by the way. I just graduated and . . ."

"That's nice," I took the glass away, glaring at Kuki and that guy, who was now slow dancing with her. Did they have to stand that close together?

Numbuh seven hundred whatever followed my gaze. "Is that Kuki Sanban?" Her voice sounded bitter.

I nodded, sipping the pop. Something was wrong. Maybe it was just flat.

"I thought she was supposed to be the cute one!"

"She is!" I answered, before realizing what I was doing. "I mean, that's what they say. everyone, anyway. I haven't ever, er, noticed or um looked at her. I mean, she's definitly, er. . ."

She interupted. "How's the soda?"

"Flat," I answered.

"Well, um, yeah. I, uh, didn't want the carbonation to, er, eat your stomach lining out. You know what they say about carbonation."

"Whatever," I finished the glass. After all, no need to waste soda. Even if it tasted horrible.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kuki and dat loosher haff been danshing for hours now. It's time I kick that guysh ash!

"Hey you!" I aproached the guy angrily, a hard thing to do shince . . . since, I mean . . . my legs were rubber and my shkin wash . . . skin was . . . crawling off my bones. I put my finger in the guy's face. "Leave her alone."

"dude, what's your deal?" The guy stared at me incredilously.

"Wally!" Kuki shed . . . said . . . angrily.

"Do you haff a problem?" I asked.

"You came over here." He pointed out.

"Shut up! If you shtay quiet I might go eazy on je-you."

"What . . ."

He didn't finish. I teached that guy a leshion. He'll shtay away from my woman for a while now.

Blood dripped all over the place from his noshe. . . nose. I bet I broke it!

I laughed. The shound . . . sound . . . echoed in my body, like something that lived and breathed.

"Oh my god! My nose! MY NOSE!" He shrieked, drawing everyone'sh attention in our direction.

"Are you alright Danny?" Kuki bent over him, as he was on the ground. She looked up to glare at me. "You jerk! What do you think you're doing? You could've seriously hurt him!"

"I am seriously hurt!" He whined.

"Shut up, Kuki's talking," I told him, grinning at my love.

She gave me a look that could freeze lava. "Sometimes you're a real dick, did you know that?"

"Did you just say . . .?" I laughed, having never heard Numbuh 3 say anything like that.

"You're really something, you know that?" By now someone had taken whatshisname to the hospital or something. The mushic was dancing and I felt like joining in. "Wanna dansh?" I asked.

"No, I do not want to dance." Kuki replied.

I grabbed her arm and tried dragging her to the dance floor. "Letsh go!"

"You let go of me right now, Wallabee Beatles!" She slapped my arm away.

I shuddenly remembered the promise I'd made to myself. "Kuki, there's something I have to tell you."

She stepped back. "What?"

"There's something I have to tell you."

"You just said that," She shed, annoyed.

"I did? Well, there's something I have to tell you. I. . . I . . ."

"Yes?"

"I lo- I have to puke!" sickness washed over me and chunks of regurgitated hot dogs painted the dance floor and the front of Kuki's brand new white dress.

AN: Ew! Sick enough for you? Now you must ask yourself the question of the century: If a guy loved you, but he puked on you, would you still have feelings for him? ponder this as you wait for the next chapter. Chao!