Thousand Cliché Death

By Hounds of War

Chapter 6

(Authors Note: Let it be noted that I DID NOT WRITE THE FOLLOWING STORY. It was written by a fanfic writer named Hounds of War. About four or five years ago, there was a comedy writer on who was known as Hounds of War. Now, Hounds of War wasn't well known by everyone, but he was always one of my favorite comedic fanfiction writers, and because I liked his works so much, I printed them off and showed them to my other Final Fantasy VII lovin' friends, who also laughed along.

But after a while, Hounds of War's account was deleted from I guess from inactivity. I loved his stories, and thought others would love them to, and because I missed his stories and the ability of sharing them, I wanted to share them with all the other people who never had a chance to have a good laugh at his stories. Enjoy!)

(Hounds of War Author's Note (of death!): For the three Nebraskans who don't know, a WAFFy fic is defined as: Warm and Fuzzy Feelings…meaning that the fic in general leaves one with a fresh aftertaste much like that of a York Peppermint Patty, but in an almost sexual way (for some people, anyway). In any case, though I'm not sure if WAFFy counts as a cliché, someone has requested…nay, DEMANDED that I write one. So, enjoy…or else.)

Everyone falls out of the vortex and into a boot camp

Drill Sergeant Think 'Full Metal Jacket': YOU SCUM SUCKING EGG-LINKIN' BALL HUGGING PIECES OF SHIT ON MY SHOE!

Aeris (hugging a ball): What?

Tifa (licking an egg): Who?

Cloud (sucking scum): Huh?

Shit on Shoe: Fuck you, man.

Drill Sergeant: YOU ARE THE LOWEST FORMS OF LIFE ON THIS FUCKING PLANET! THIS IS THE GODDAMN FUCKING SHIT I HAVE TO FUCKING PUT UP WITH! OVER THE NEXT FEW FUCKING WEEKS I WILL MOLD YOU UNTIL YOU ARE THE PERFECT MODEL OF THE MODERN GENTLEMAN AND LADY! YOU WILL TREAT EACH OTHER WITH FUCKING RESPECT DUE TO EACH FUCKING OTHER! AM I UNDERSTOOD!

Cid (lights a cigarette): Shaddup.

Drill Sergeant: GRRR! DON'T YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT SMOKING WILL GIVE YOU FUCKING CANCER! YOU HAD BEST UNFUCK YOURSELF BEFORE I UNSCREW YOUR HEAD AND SHIT DOWN YOUR NECK!

Cid: Blow me.

Drill Sergeant (under breath): Maybe later.

Day 13: Tea Party

Drill Sergeant: YOU ARE ONLY GOOD AS THE RUDEST MEMBER OF YOUR FUCKING TEAM!

Cid: We have successfully navigated the hallway, entered the patio…now we're gonna practice sipping techniques. We've been drilling for weeks, doing finger-lifting exercises…God, who knew it would be this hard.

Narrator: Watch his story and many others at Learn the real stories, the real people.

Day 20: Tie Exercises

Barret: Fuck this shit foo', I'm getting outta here.

Vincent: Goddamit, we're gonna pull through, you here me? We've lost too much to just give up now!

Barret: No! I can't take this shit anymore! (starts to run)

Vincent: Tackle him!

Day 60: Graduation

Aeris: More chaufe-de-lounge, Tifa?

Tifa: Why, thank you, Aeris, I will have some.

Cid: Sir, your coarse remark is offensive to me.

Vincent: I had naught the notion of that, please forgive my rude and unmediated outburst.

Cid: That is quite all right. I forgive you.

Vincent: You are a true friend.

Cid (thinking to himself): My name is Cid Highwind. Tactical Shinra Combat Pilot Class 1. Though there are 7,323,987 (minus the first six digits) others like me, I am an Army of One.

Narrator: find out more at Oh, there you are Charles! Tea? Crumpets?

Giant portal sucks everyone up

TO BE CONTINUED