Griever with a kitty litter… I wonder if I'm the first person to ever think of that? Oh, well. This is fanfiction.

Disclaimer: I don't own Griever, Biggs, Wedge, or anything FF8 related. I did not invent the kitty litter and will not be held responsible for chunks of sandy cat poo around the house.

o—o

Chapter Thirteen: …

Griever sat in a little corner in the apartment's modestly sized bathroom. This was humiliating! A guardian force, using a kitty litter! A GF as great as he, Griever, reduced to feline excretory facilities! An absolute outrage! If he ever finds out whoever made this stupid law about only humans being allowed to use toilets, he's going to bury him in a kitty litter! Damn the refreshing scent crystals! They mock him…

o—o

"Zell, I'm going to the training center to get ready to arrest those two idiots, alone. If Rinoa comes looking for me, distract her," said Squall.

"You can count on me!"

As Squall walked down the hall to the training center, he set his mind for the task ahead. If he finds those two… When he finds those two idiots there is going to be trouble, lots and lots of trouble. As he stalked through the artificial jungle he felt the Grats avoiding him. They could sense his hostility. He'll have to seek out a T-Rexaur, then.

Meanwhile, outside Squall's dorm, Rinoa knocked.

"Squall? Squallie? Zell told me you were in there. Can I come in?"

"Whatever."

"That's not very nice, Squall. Come on, open up!"

"…"

"Squall!"

"Whatever."

"Grr! I hate it when you're like this!"

"Whatever."

"What is wrong with you, Squall! Are you mad at me or something? What's with you today!"

"…"

"Squall! You're hurting my feelings!"

"Whatever."

"You big meanie! I'm going to cry!"

"…"

"That's it! Flare!"

As the door melted explosively, Rinoa looked into Squall's room through the red haze of anger. There, on his bed was a tape recorder. "Whatever… … Whatever. Whetever… Whatever…"

"ZELL!"

o—o

Stupid kitty litter.

o—o

"We're approaching Esthar now, Squall," said Nida.

"Good. All hail Xenu!"

"What?"

"What?"

"Um…nothing."

Good, thought Squall, Now we can settle this once and for all. If I don't kill them first, I'm going to make them work so hard that they cry for mercy! Mwahahahaha!

o—o

I am going to kill someone if I have to keep on using this stupid sand pit for a restroom.

o—o

"Sir, we're supposed to be hiding out, which means we shouldn't be shopping around for china."

"Yeah, yeah. Holy crap! That's a genuine mid-Centran ceramic urn! And it's only 5000 gil!"

"Why does it look like that?"

"It's genius! Those are faces! Each stylized face makes up a half of the next face to form a ring of faces. Do you know how rare these are? Wow! It's a Marcatello!"

"If you ask me, sir, those mustaches look like ridiculous smudges of poo."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"It makes the faces look so angry, like a genocidal fascist dictator. I keep getting the feeling it should be called… Heisler?"

"…Look. It's a work of genius. I don't care what you say, 'cause it's-Ooh! Trabian chocolates!"

o—o

Stupid… This sucks!

o—o

"I brought the two of you along because you all want vengeance, except that Quistis was busy teaching today. Still, be on the lookout for the fugitives."

"Um, Squall. I don't really see why we need to take revenge on them. They seemed like pretty nice people," said Selphie, walking through the busy streets with her party.

"You kiddin' me? They put you in a wheelchair!" said Zell.

"That doesn't mean we have to blow them to smithereens, teehee!"

"We shall see about that. Keep looking. They could be anywhere."

The three SeeDs continued along the market street, looking for any signs of the escapees. Selphie took the chance to look around at the fascinating items on display. They'd never been to this part of Esthar before. Apparently it was a flea market of sorts.

"Ooh! Trabian chocolates!" shouted a voice.

"What? Where!" said Selphie. Then she spotted it. A stall full of the highest quality Trabian chocolates beckoned her with its delicious charm, it's beauty in red, gold, and brown and its scent seductive to the palate. She ran to it.

"Oh, truffles! And raspberry! And orange! And the famous Hundehaufen delights!" squeaked Selphie.

"They even have the Highlander green tea chocolate!" said the man next to her.

"Oh, I've never tried those before! Hey! You're-"

"Oh, crap!"

"Sir, what's going… oh."

"Guys! I found the-Mmf!"

"Shut up! You wanna get us killed? Ow!"

Cliff, er, Biggs let go of her and looked at the teeth marks on his hand.

"You mean you're gonna get killed," said Selphie.

"Hey good job Selphie, you found them!" said Zell.

"Um, no she didn't! You've got the wrong people! We're just decent, average Estharians participating in the great tradition of a free market!" said Garrett, I mean Wedge desperately.

"I hereby arrest you in the name of Balamb Garden!" said Squall, approaching rapidly.

"Run, Wedge!"

"Blizzaga!"

A wall of solid ice shot out of the ground and blocked the way of the two men. The market-goers cleared a wide circle. They knew a show when they saw one.

"Where's Griever!" said Biggs.

"Still at the apartment, sir!"

"Still on the kitty litter? We need him!"

"You had him pretty upset, sir."

"Resisting arrest is a serious offence, gentlemen," said Squall, walking towards them with menace unchecked.

"Hey, no hard feelings right?" said Biggs. He grinned nervously.

"None whatsoever… as soon as I kill the two of you."

Biggs and Wedge cowered in fear against the ice wall as Squall approached them, eyes burning with malice and a Flare spell in hand.

"This is it, Wedge. This time we're really gonna die!"

"Well don't use me as a shield!"

"Aaah, we're gonna die!"

As Squall prepared to release the spell a shadow passed overhead. Griever landed behind Squall.

"You! Fat man!" shouted Griever.

"I'm not fat!"

"I asked Ward and he told me there is no Racial Plumbing Amendment of 5608! You lied to me! You made me use a goddam kitty litter!"

"You wasted my money!"

"I don't think this is a good time to argue, sir," said Wedge, still serving as a human shield for Biggs.

"Ah, Griever. Return to your rightful master and help me detain these two miscreants," said Squall.

"Excuse me? My rightful master? My rightful master? My rightful master? For the past few months I've been used for pony rides, weapons of mass destruction, immigrant smuggling vehicles, and I've been forced to eat fake wildebeest and use a kitty litter and you claim to be my rightful master? I don't think so!"

A small but concentrated tornado appeared, lifted Squall and Zell up and blew them away and out from the city and tossed them onto a balcony on Balamb Garden.

"You ungrateful cat!" shouted Squall as he was gone with the wind.

"I'll talk to you when you get home," said Griever to Biggs and flew away.

Biggs took a look around himself. The spectators were staring at him, wondering what happens next.

"Uh… Well that was the most specific tornado I've ever seen, heheh… Um, does this mean you won't try to kill us?" said Biggs to Selphie.

"Hmmm… It's a deal!"

Biggs and Wedge sighed with relief.

"As long as you by me a bunch of chocolates!"

"What! You-"

"Of course, my lady," said Wedge. Considering what they just avoided, he was glad to spend any amount of money to make sure it doesn't almost happen again.

And so Selphie went home happily humming her favorite tune (the one about trains), arms loaded to the brim with highly expensive and fattening chocolate. And Biggs went home appalled, complaining that the amount of money he had had been reduced by half.

o—o

Sorry if Squall sounded a little bit out of character. He was the semi-villain, after all. Also, "Hundehaufen" means, er, dog poo. I just had to get a little tasteless joke in here somewhere, sorry. Also, if you want to see a picture of the urn Biggs was talking about, e-mail me and I'll send it to you. Idrew the urn in Sunday school and decided that it is my greatest invention ever. Please review!