Author's Notes

Disclaimer: …screw you and everyone who looks like you.

End Author's Notes

Somehow, Zidane and Amarant met back up with each other, and as Amarant tried to kill Zidane, Zidane tried to reason with Amarant. "Look! The odds are unfair! I have Snot on my side! He can turn into your mom and tell you not to hit me! It's that unfair!" Amarant glared at him. "Screw your excuses. I'm $#$$ing you up here and now." He cracked his knuckles. "Which part of you should I break first?"

FWEE!

They found themselves in the Old Folks Home in Kalm. An old man saw them, had a heart attack and died. A small child behind them broke out into a chant. "Yessss! I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it!"

Amarant looked around. "Well, while we're here…" he pulled out his Tiger Claws…

"Let's have some fun." He grinned wickedly.

Zidane had walked out before this endeavor. 'How'd I get here?' He thought to himself. He continued down the streets of Kalm. "This doesn't look like Alexandria…"

"Huh, you're tellin' me?" a forty-year-old Vivi said, drunk next to the fountain. "Buddy, got any spare change?" he held out a tin can. Zidane looked at Vivi closely… "You look awful familiar…"

Vivi stifled a scream. "Wha-? N-no! Never seen you in my damn life!" He started backing slowly away from Zidane, then quickly turned around and ran.

Remember what happened to Palmer? Vivi got the same treatment. "Chirst. Poor guy." Zidane muttered. He continued down the streets of Kalm (which was much bigger back then. It even had a whore house! …not that I would know, though… a-a-a…friend of mine went there. Not me. Nope. Too respectable.) looking at the many sights it had to offer. Then he came upon Cid's booth…'s line. It was extremely long. Why, you ask? Cid's sign, of course.

You probably thought it would say: "Face almost certain doom in a task that will inevitably have the credit handed to a well renowned hero that will eventually die in a horrible skiing accident involving pink slippers, Oscar the Grouch, Big Bird, and Elmo with shotguns. Oh, and you get to save the world. No cookies."

No, instead, the sign read: "Free cookie with application to save the world." And below that, in veeeeery fine print, it read "If you are accepted, you will be considered expendable, and your life will not be put ahead of others. If you decline the offer once you have been accepted, i.e. just wanted the cookie, then we will sick rabid purple bunny rabbits upon you, your family, friends, and Shirley Temple." But no one reads fine print anymore without their lawyers, right?

Earlier that year, Patrick McGoye had gone on a noble quest to kill every lawyer known to the human race, calling them impure forms of the Cetra.

So people were pretty much, in general, screwed when it came to fine print.

Cid's first "Wanna-be Hero of Good" stepped up. It was none other than…

Peter Jackson.

Cid didn't even look up from his Etch-A-Sketch. "So what are your previous accomplishments?"

"Well," Peter began, clearing his throat. "I made Legolas a hottie known by teenage heartaches all around the world, gave Gollum a freaky voice, and proved to the world that Frodo is a sissy. And I'm rich."

Cid grunted. "I'll think about it. NEXT!"

Cloud stepped up (people, don't ask how he's there, or I will kill you. "Domo… Domo… Domo Origato-" ooo-kay, I'll stop now). Cid had written a crude message on his Etch-A-Sketch in case he saw someone he didn't like in the line. "What are your previous accomplishments?" He asked in an extremely bored tone.

"Well," Cloud began in a nasally tone, "I defeated Ultima twice, killed a physco with a really long butter knife, and watched my girlfriend die by the hands of a monkey, all on my PSP. It's reeeeeally cool with all sortsa buttons and thingi-"

"Any weapon specifications?"

"I like swords."

"Got one on you?"

Cloud attempted to raise his huge sword, but could do no such thing. "Just a second…" he said, and tried lifting it again, leaning back, but fell to the ground. "NEXT!" Cid called…

The line went oooon, and oooon, and ooon, until Zidane finally reached the booth.

"Pr-" Cid began, but Zidane already knew the question.

"I've-" Zidane began, but an airship flew in low overhead, and no one but Cid could hear what he said.

A lone Etch-A-Sketch clattered to the cobblestone square.

"You're serious?"

"Yup." Zidane replied proudly.

"You're hired then!" Cid said, wide-eyed. He shook Zidane's hand. "Anyone who can do that is definitely on the team!"

Zidane smiled widely. "Soooo… when do I get my cookie?"

"It's mail order, son."