Disclaimer: I, being Hyde, do not own anything contained in this chapter. Any and all material contained in this chapter is under the category 'Humor' and is not to be taken seriously. So do not take my work or characters to be racially discriminate or anything like that, which has happened before, for some reason known only to those who had objections to Taco Joe (For references, see Amon Has a Cold. I can't imagine you would want references, but in order to be orderly and thorough about this I shall give you. Here. Eat and be happy.)

Hyde A/N: I am starting this chapter the day after I posted the last one.

Impatient People: --Cheer—

So maybe it will not be a week between chapters as it has before.

Impatient People: Yay!

Oh, and now that they are posted I must tout the two fanfics authored by HydeandAis and actually written by Hyde and Ais. Some of you have probably read them already, but they are Amon and the Exploding Taco Salad and The Nonsense of the Cowpit. Now HydeandAis does not mean just Hyde.

People Who Think That is Wonderful: Yay!

Okay, so anyway, read and review please.

Alright, since this A/N is getting long, perhaps we should get on with the stuff you all love: the plot!

People Who Love The Plot: Yay!

Amon walked into The Appliance Store with a few misgivings. The Appliance store did not look like a place that normal ominous individuals frequented. There were bright, cheerful signs everywhere, promoting bright, shiny appliances. Everywhere he looked he saw bright, gleaming appliances.

He went to the desk with a large blue sign above it that said COSTOMER SERVICE and had a picture of a smiling employee to the left of the words.

He walked up to the desk (or perhaps one might call it a counter) but no one was there. There was, however, a small sign propped up in the center that said, 'How may I help you? Please ring bell for service.'

Amon glanced surreptitiously around for the bell, but there seemed to be no bell in sight. A few uncomfortable minutes later he realized that the bell was what was propping up the small sign.

"Muttermutterstupidmutter," Amon articulated. He rang the bell. Reluctantly. It just does not improve one's macho image to be ringing a bell in an appliance store.

Out of no where, a saleslady appeared. "How may I help you?"

"I need a breadmachine," Amon muttered.

"Let me show you where they are," she said, and walked off. Amon followed, trying to be inconspicuous.

Sixteen bells and alarms of various degrees of tone and timbre rang violently in Zaizen's head. (Hyde A/N: Bum bum bummmmmm! Zaizen returns! I was really only bringing him in that once time because I happened to have a random inspiration for him but now he has worked himself back in again.)

Why were they ringing? No, not a fire alarm. You see, Zaizen too was in The Appliance Store that morning. He was not there because of the inspiration of Linda the Crisis Expert, as was Amon, but he was there because he wanted a toaster that he could run on orbo, and this was where he got all of Touko's appliances.

Back to the bells and alarms. They were ringing because he happened to espy Amon there at the same time, following Judy (Yes, he was acquainted with the CUSTOMER SERVICE lady) back into the depths of the store. He was mortally afraid that Amon would see him in such an undignified place. No good for employees to see their boss in undignified positions, no sir.

Zaizen crouched behind a display of electric eggbeaters, watching Amon until he disappeared into the great gleaming aisles of appliances.

"Well, sir, here they are. We have three basic types of breadmachines: Japanese, American, and Luxembourgian."

"Um, Japanese."

"Okay, within the category 'Japanese' we have these basic models: A, B, C, D, E, X, J, and Lo."

"They all look the same."

"Well, there are a few seemingly minor differences that are actually quite crucial." From here 'Judy' launched into a technical description of each model individually, which Amon did not follow in the least. He was not familiar with the technical terms of the appliance world.

Suddenly, a sound was heard throughout the store. It sounded like a cross between a pig squealing and a lady shrieking. There was a muffled thump.

Amon went into panic mode. Well, you might not call it panic mode if you went into it, but for Amon, it was panic mode. He handed Judy some random amount of money close to the price tag, grabbed a model (I believe X was the one he grabbed), and ran from the store.

Now to explain the strange noises Amon heard. The shrieky sort of noise was an old lady with an umbrella who had decided that Zaizen was a stalker since he was hiding behind electric eggbeaters. She thus let out a sort of shrieky noise of triumph and whacked Zaizen soundly over the head with her umbrella (the beige one she kept for just such an occasion). The muffled thump, as you have no doubt surmised, was Zaizen being whacked by said beige umbrella.

Zaizen lay on the floor for a moment, groaning.

"I got you, you stalker," screeched the old lady, brandishing her beige umbrella threateningly.

"Umph, no…mistake…" Zaizen muttered.

"Stay on the floor! No false moves, or you get it, mister!"

The truth is, Zaizen couldn't have gotten up anyway. "No, mistake, lemme go…"

"Somebody call the police! Somebody call the secret service! Somebody call the CIA! Somebody call the FBI! I've captured a stalker!" the old lady yelled. Judy came over to see what all the ruckus was.

"What's all the ruckus?" she asked.

"This man's a stalker! Don't worry, I walloped him good."

"I see. Was he stalking you, ma'am?"

"No, I don't know who he was stalking, but he sure was stalking. The way he was sneaking around behind those eggbeaters…" The old lady trailed off and shook her umbrella threateningly in her anger against those who would dare to commit a crime. She herself would never have thought of committing a crime, thus she thought it all the worse when someone else did.

"Alright ma'am, calm down. I'll call the police and we'll straighten things out."

"No…not police…" Zaizen groaned from his position on the floor.

"Shut up, you menace to society, you!" the old lady threatened.

Suddenly, through his pain there came to Zaizen a wonderful idea. Through his pain he smiled in a way that might almost be called evil.

"Over there…" he groaned to the old lady, "Someone's stealing a toaster…"

"Where?" she snapped, and headed in the direction Zaizen had indicated.

The moment her back was turned Zaizen got up and ran.

"Amon?" Doujima said into her communicator, "I completed the mission."

"Good."

"Uh, Amon, could you tell me why I'm doing this?"

"No."

"Not even a hint?"

"No."

"Vague reference?"

"No."

"Come on, Amon. I won't do it if you don't tell me."

"Yes, you will."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't I'll send all the STN-J members an anonymous email exposing a few things you don't want exposed."

"Amon! I can't believe you would resort to blackmail to get me to do something. Amon, you aren't drunk, are you?"

"No."

"You aren't taking any medication?"

"No."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Amon, tired of continuing the argument, which was getting nowhere, hung up.

Well, it isn't a particularly long chapter but it has been long enough and I really should get this posted so I shall continue in the next chapter.

HunterRobin: Thank you! I shall try to update as soon as possible. This chapter would have been in earlier but I was really busy this week. I shall try to get the next one in earlier, I promise.

Smeagol: We promisesssss too, doesssn't we preciousssssssss!

Smeagol! You are not going to write anything, I told you already! You put in too many s's, and besides, the stuff you write makes no sense.

Smeagol: It makesss sssense to usssssss!

But not to anyone else!

Smeagol: Sssso?

Aisling Niamh: Well, I'd like an Aisate (short for Ais update). Thanks for the tip. BTW, they are called asterisks, not stars.

May patchouli never soak up your carpet and fly it to Mars,

Hyde

St Earns: One question: Why did she save every ink pen she used in law school? What's the point?

Everyone, did you hear that? I'm unique! –does sixteen cartwheels, then collapses—

CrazyTomboy: The voices in my head tell you thank you! They are glad to have an adoring fan. lol

Ein: I pity him too. The poor guy has no end of tortures devised for him. But if we didn't torture him, there would be no story!

Miuixtli: I do not believe I have ever seen that show. You should ask Ais. She's the one who started all the Touko naming stuff with Chad the dryer. Or was he a washing machine? That's stupid, I should remember that. I think he's a dryer.