Another fix of spazziness, courtesy of me, your DOOOOoooM. Uhm 3

Xiaolin Showdown does not belong to me, if it did, no one would watch it /

MEDIOCRITY AT ITS HEIGHT

A tale of woe and misery by Death-by-Candy

Chapter Two: Repent, Emo Scum!

The room was… hang on… it should be illegal to call it a room… it was more of a stall... yes… a stall. Anyway, it was dark; pitch dark. Black as night. Um, I think the point I'm trying to get across was that it was dark. Yeah.

Ahem. The walls of the tiny stall were painted black, and hung with black velvet drapes. Tubes of black lipstick and eyeliner lined the shelf above the black mat that could only be a bed.

Huddled in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth was a pitiful excuse for a Xiaolin monk. It was Raimundo. Over the past few weeks he'd been descending slowly and painfully into emo-ness due to an insult from a tree.

The insult had taken place during Raimudos' first high. But that's beside the point. We're trying to describe the endless pain and hate and… un-joyness that Raimundo feels- like little un-joy filled spikes stuck in his black, black heart.

His hair was now black (courtesy of Kimiko the Wonder Dog) and eyeliner caked half his face. To play the part fully, he had also signed up with the local poetry club. The only one in China to be exact. Let us zoom in on the corner of Raimudos' mat. Ah yes, there it is: a scrap of paper with Rais' latest poem. Shall we scrutinize? Yes. Yes we shall.

To be? Or not to be? That is the question…

That last sentence was totally mine.

Douche bag.

Understand that:

I am alone

Falling free

Trying my best not to forget.

You know:

My hips… don't lie...

Rudebox, do the rudebox,

Cos you so nasty
Rudebox, shake your rudebox,

Why you so nasty.

I wish

I was.

A punk rocker.

With flowers in my hair…

…

Interesting.

On with the story: It was five o'clock in the morning when Omi trotted up to Raimundos stall and smashed through his stable door. Wood chips flew though the air and a particularly large one impaled Ninja Fred The Emo Bear With A Heart Full Of Sorrow.

"RAIMUNDO, YOU FUCKER!" The small boy shrieked, leaping onto pain personified.

"Whaaaaaaat did I do?" Raimundo moaned, running his black-fingernailed hands through his hair.

"You are aware of what you have done!" Omi growled, slapping Rai over the back of the head, "Now you are coming with me!"

Rai let himself be dragged by the ear through the Xiaolin Temple corridors until Omi stopped at the door to the entrance room.

"HOLY JESUS IN A STRIP CLUB!" Kimiko could be heard through the door.

"Well if I ain't a steaming bag of horse shit!" Clays voice joined in.

Omi set a Xiaolin record by smashing another door into splinters in one morning. Charging through the hole in the wall, Raimundo flopping on the floor behind him, Omi walked over to Clay and Kimiko.

"See what you have done, you bastard!" Omi yelled, spit spraying over his friends.

Raimundo lifted his woe-filled head and blinked at the room. There was nothing unusual about it. To him, anyway.

But the monks saw it another way. There was a dead cat nailed to the wall in the centre of an upside down pentagram that was painted in red.

"What the feck!" Kimiko growled at Omi, "First you're an emo and now you're a Satanist? What the hell wrong with you, Raimundo?"

Said emo/Satanist stared silently at the lil' dead kitty on the wall. His lip began to tremble and his eyes began to water. It wasn't a pretty sight; the eyeliner dripped in rivers down his face.

"It wasn't me, you guys!" he sobbed, hiding his head in his hands. The monks looked at each other, or what could only be called looking because their faces aren't very good canvasses for expression.

"What are you talking about? Of course you did! You're the most messed-up out of all of us!" Omi cried.

Kimiko raised an eyebrow. "Are you so sure about that, Omi?" She asked archly, gesturing towards Clay, who was wearing a flowery mumu.

Clay shrugged. "What? Can't a cowboy have a hobby?"

Everyone was quiet.

"… So who did it then?" Kimiko said quietly, not looking at the resident cowboy in drag.

Before anyone could reply, someone screamed from outside the temple.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

SOME SORT OF A PLOT IS SHINING THROUGH THE GRIME! I have no idea where I am going with this.

I'm not trying to make this a hate fic; I do actually really, really like the show. I just like munting the characters :) And i'm only doing this fic for fun.

P.S Family Guy references for president!

-Death-by-Candy