A/N: Told ya guys, it'd be quick, didn't I? Believe me, I didn't think it'd be this quick either; my muse just kinda bitch slapped me this morning and this little brainchild was the result. Hope you all enjoy reading this one as much as I didwriting it!

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is property of Square-Enix, which brings me to break the Ten Commandments. (Though I suppose it's okay to "covet thy neighbors goods" because I don't live in Japan!)

Note: This piece is a companion to Ticket, which was Entry #14- Radio Cassette Player. I'd suggest you go check that one out (it's a very quick read) or you won't understand the premise of this one.

Entry #20: The Road Home - Payback

"Hey, Joe, slide a couple of shot glasses down here!"

The balding bartender grinned and nodded, wiping off a few glasses near him with his cleaning rag. He obliged the rousing drunks, watching as they emptied bottle after bottle and wallet after wallet.

Tonight's going to be a good night…

"Hey gramps," an annoying voice pressed, "you got any karaoke?"

Maybe not.

"Sure we do, ma'am," he replied politely, the vein near his temple pulsing ever so slightly.

The young woman, clad in green and accessorized by what appeared to be a sullen Turk, grinned and place 50 gil on the counter.

"Well, turn it on!" the redhead growled after a short silence, "We ain't got all night…"

The barkeeper blinked and nodded, hitting a button under the bar that lit up the karaoke button. He would have instructed the odd looking couple to press the power button, but by the time he looked up, the raven-haired youth was practically shoving a microphone down her counterpart's throat.

After they had selected a sappy song that made all the males in the room wince in sympathetic pain, the woman sashayed her way over to the bar, ordering a gin tonic.

The bartender couldn't resist.

"Why?" he croaked, the pain of the redhead on stage emanating throughout the whole room.

"Because he needs to know how embarrassing it is to have people hear you sing." Yuffie replied simply.

"My heaaart will go on and ooooooonnnnnn!"

The man winced.

"Isn't he a Turk?" the barkeep inquired, eyes running up and down the length of her partner's suit.

"Yup." She answered quickly, eyes gleeful.

The man sputtered.

"How did you get one of the most feared-?"

"I'm his girlfriend." She cut off, her hands rubbing themselves in maniacal delight.

Needless to say, the barkeeper grabbed a tall glass, the three bottles of most hard-hitting liquors he had, and a bowl of peanuts. He had almost hesitated pouring all three liquors into one glass, worried that the man might try to drive home and get himself killed. At the very least, he would have a major hangover the next morning.

So, naturally, he dumped all three into the glass: most males would gladly accept a hangover if it made them forget, if only for a few hours, that their girlfriends had made them sing Celine Dion.

And hell, if he did kill himself on the road home, he should count it among his blessings.

- End -

A/N: As always and yet again, review!