DISCLAIMER: I do not own Animorphs. Blah blah blah.

Well, after a long time of no Visserly twisted sick humor, here's some more for you guys and gals in fanfic reader land!

Enjoy!

Entry It Really Doesn't Matter What Number Because I have a DATE!

GHA! No luck with the Andalite bandits. Took control of a hospital. Didn't work out though. On one of our meetings Andalites infiltrated as roaches.

Dammit!

I told them to keep some Raid handy, but do they listen? Nooooo!

Some got in our hospital too. Boiled a whole bunch of Yeerks! Stupid Bandits! Dammit!

Anyway, you can imagine how ticked off I was. I came back on the Blade in a rage and in my usual style, informally decapitated several of my least favorite subordinates.

Add that to those I'd knocked off last time, and the 'dangerously high- glaring red lights' Casualty Count was over the limit.

And so, it was another horrific trip to Sweeney...

Since I'd already been there numerous times before, and hadn't shown any "promise" of "changing my character", I would be having a longer time in Sweeney land. And this time, I would have little 'homework' exercises to "be completed outside of the class setting".

One such recent assignment was a poem expressing our feelings of inner rage.

Heh heh heh.

We all got to read ours aloud...

Visser One's went something along the line of this,

I, am Visser One. Not Visser Two or Three. And nobody else will ever, be Visser One like me,

So if they ever try to, They can rest assure, That their carcass will float, endlessly in space, forevermore.

A few Vissers clapped halfheartedly. Visser Two looked worried. I smirked.

BOOO! THAT SUCKED ROYAL ANDALITE-

"Now Visser Three." Sweeney said, smiling. "We want to, encourage, the...artistic creativity in ourselves, and others around us."

Yeah, yeah, whatever. I said, playing with my daily star sticker.

"We want to give critiques that are constructive, not desctructive."

Mine was constructive.

"No it wasn't!" Visser One snapped. "My feelings are hurt!" She added, looking at Sweeney with big, pitiful eyes.

WHATEVER! YOU ARE SO FULL OF BULL-

"Visser Three!" Sweeney, the Spawn of Satan said, pointing and shaking her finger in my face. "If I have to call you out again, I will take away your sticker!"

NOOOO! I whined, wiggling in my seat uncomfortably. Okay okay! I'll be good! I'll be good!

"There, now. I think Visser One's poem was very nice."

"Thank you!" Visser One gushed fakely. Then her regular scowl returned as she went to her seat, socking me with her rolled up poem.

Ooooh! I wanted to just jab my tail blade into her face and...

"Would anyone else like to read their poem?" Evil Sweeney said.

Everybody else looked uncomfortably at each other. With my eyestalks, I noticed one Hork-Bajir in the back quickly trying to scribble something in a notebook; obviously having not finished his homework the night before.

What an idiot! Didn't these people know the value of the 'last minute the night before'?!

I smiled confidently and got up and walked to the front of the class.

"Very good Visser Three!" Sweeney said, cooing like she was talking to a three year old who'd just learned how to use the can right.

Ahem. My poem is titled, "The Stabbing."

Visser One smirked.

Shut up! I snapped.

"Now now Vissers!" Sweeney the Queen of All that is Evil, and of Darkness and Decay said. "We're channeling our anger, remember?"

Yes, Ms. Sweeney! I said, playing the good little boy. I realize that I have done wrong by primitively and physically venting my anger on my subordinates.

Sweeney had an 'Aww' look on her face. "There! See class! Visser Three has done just that, channeling his anger, and he's going to move on from our class soon!"

Thank you Ms. Sweeney!

Visser One made a gag noise and muttered. "Brown noser!"

And you. I replied privately.

She scowled even more, and slouched lower in her seat. Such a little hypocrite!

"His poetry probably sucks crap!" She muttered.

"Now, Visser One!"

Visser One said nothing more.

Anyways. I said, smugly. My poem is titled. 'The Stabbing'

Ahem!

I feel my tail blade,

As it jabs into your eye,

like a plastic fork,

in an apple pie!

I feel my tail blade,

As it lops off your hand,

And makes you scream,

Like a boy band.

I feel my tail blade,

As if falls upon,

Your stupid face,

And soon it's gone.

I like to stab things,

Because it's fun

I have a feeling,

I'm not the only one.

I will stab you,

If you make me mad,

Tail blades rock,

And Drugs are Bad.

The End!

I finished proudly.

Tears were streaming down some Vissers' cheeks.

"OATMEAL ROCKS!" Some moron yelled in the back.

We all turned to stare for a few moments.

"Well. Yes...indeed." Sweeney woman said. "That was very nice! Everyone clap for Visser Three, now!"

Halfhearted claps ensued. Visser One stuck her thumbs up and cheered. "BOOOO!"

Some Hork-Bajir yelled in the back. "WHOOO! Stabbing is fun!"

"You're not the only one Visser Three!" A female Hork-Bajir Controller called.

Can I have your number?! I called back in reply, hopefully.

"TAIL BLADES DO ROCK! GO ANDALITES!"

It was the same Oatmeal Moron. We all stared again.

I got the chick's number! WHOO! GO ME!

She's Visser 27.

Feeling sexy, I called her Blade ship right after Sweeney Time.

Uh, hi, Visser 27?

"IS THIS VISSER THREE?" A very, very nasal voice boomed.

I winced. Ugh. Serious mood killer...

Um, yeah.

"VISSER 27 HAS BEEN WAITING FOR YOU. PLEASE WAIT WHILE I PUT YOU THROUGH! HANG ON ONE MOMENT PLEASE!" the nose declared, nearly deafening me.

She came on. "Uh, Visser Three?"

Yyyyyeah! Still here.

"Oh, great. So...um..."

Um... I said too.

"You're poem was like...deep."

Really? I felt fartled.

"Yeah, I mean, I was like, moved and junk..."

Stop fartling me!

Silence.

"What?"

You're fartling me!

"Um, I think the term is 'flattered'. As in, I'm 'flattering' you."

Whatever! Don't flatten me! Don't correct me either! I'm higher in rank than you are! Don't forget that!

"Okaaay...sorry...sheesh..."

So...uh. Do you want to watch a movie and all?

"What, like, together?"

No. APART. What the crap do you think?! Of course 'together'! Are you retarded or something?

"Uh no...or...like...not to my knowledge or whatever...like...yeah..."

I nearly groaned.

Look, how old are you?

Uh...three cycles. I just got promoted to this...

I thought. She's about half my age!

Probably fresh out of the pool.

Sigh. Oh well. At least she wasn't still in school!

Hey, I'm not a pedophile! Just because I'm a psychotic, deranged, mass murdering, Pervy-Luke-Skywalker-fancying Visser, doesn't mean I don't have my limits!

So...what do you want to see?

"Hmm...I don't know. How about 'Troy'?"

I began to feel slightly suicidal.

"Oooh! Or, I know, we could go retro and watch that old Yeerk cult classic! 'Attack of the Killer Zombie Vampire Andalite Babe Surfers that Happen to Also be Robotic!'"

Uh, you know what? How about we don't watch a movie? Let's uh...well...I could...Oh! I could give you a tour of my ship...

"Oh, okay...sure."

My Blade ship was bound to be nicer than hers anyway so...

"So...when?"

Uh-uh. I don't know. How about next week?

"Mmm...can't. Council summoned me."

Damn! Well...maybe...the week after?

"Sure! Maybe...let's see... I'm open Friday."

Cool. Friday it is!

We talked a little while longer. You know, the usual stuff you talk over with a total babe slug you like. Gossip about Council members and other Vissers. Pool gossip. The Kandrona emergency. Whether Bush would be reelected. (AS IF! Though humans are very strange...) Andalite bandits. That sort of thing. Then she had to go.

Well, I'll see you next...or...no...next next Friday. She said.

Awesome. I replied.

I turned off the communication feeling pretty 'winner'.

HOO yeah! I. Have. A. GIRLFRIEND!

OOOh! AH! UH! Pelvic thrust.

Gonna get laid, gonna get laid, gonna get laid, gonna get laid! Shooby dooby dooby doowap doowah!

GO ME!

Chapman came in. He looked concerned.

"Visser, I just got your report card!"

Uh oh...

"And I'm very concerned-"

Chapman! I must say, I don't care right now! As of next next Friday, I am fully dateling!

"You have a date?" He looked surprised.

Yes, I do. I said smoothly, admiring my reflection. Soooo pretty...

"No, I mean, you have a date?"

I actually turned my head to look at him with my main eyes.

What does THAT mean?

"Oh...uh...n-nothing. Anyway. About your report card. Visser, you, ah, don't seem to be doing very well."

What do you mean? My poem was fantastic!

Oh, well you see, this isn't just from Anger Management. This is your Overall Visserly Assessment.

I gasped. I ran over to him and snatched the paper. I quickly scanned it with all four eyes.

It read...

GENERAL PERFORMANCE FOR VISSERS ASSESMENT

SUBORDINATE DEATH COUNT FOR ASSESMENT PERIOD- 5,679 (BY EXECUTION)

(IN BATTLE)- 234

OVERALL ANDALITE BANDIT CAPTURE/KILL RATIO- O/O

I do capture them! I exclaimed. I just don't...keep them...

"Well, they are a sneaky bunch. Those dastardly Andalite bandits." Chapman said soothingly patting my shoulder.

Shut up.

"Yes Visser."

Stop touching me.

"Ahem. Sorry Visser..."

I read on...

OFFENSES TO OTHER VISSERS, AND HIGHER EMPIRE PERSONNEL:

1)-

I did not call Visser One THAT!

"Ah, yes you did actually Visser."

I turned to him. Really?

"Y-y-yes...I think so...last...Thursday it was..."

Oh. Well, she shouldn't take things so seriously...

2)-

Okay, now that is an absolute dirty, filthy, stinking lie! I never said Council Member Seven was a two-hundred-fifty-pound-child-molester!

"Actually-"

Okay! Okay! So maybe I did! But I told her that in confidence! She wasn't supposed to go spouting off!

"Visser, what I'm concerned about is your grades in Sweeney's class."

But I wrote a pretty poem.

He shook his finger at me. "Pretty poems don't make up for the fact that you urinated your name on the restroom wall."

They don't?

"No."

Oh...

"They had to scrub it all off, and nobody could use it for a few days, because the smell was too intense."

Hee hee hee...

"No no. That's not funny. It was naughty."

Sowwy.

"But that's not even all there is! Look here at Ms. Sweeney's comments.

I quickly read them.

I DO NOT 'REPEATEDLY DISRUPT THE ANGER DISSIPATING ENVIRONMENT!' I AM NOT 'CHILDISH!'

"Visser-"

WHAT? SHE SAID... I stared in shock at the last comment. She...she...she said I was an 'expendable class member'...

"Visser. There, there. I'm sure she didn't mean it to hurt you. It's just constructive."

NO! SHE HATES ME! SHE HATES ME BECAUSE I'M BLUE!

I ran to my quarters.

"Visser! Come back here!"

NO! I'M NEVER GOING BACK TO SCHOOL AGAIN!

"But-"

NEVER!

I slammed the door.

Then I slammed it again. Whee! So much fun!

Then I went to fake cry on my bed. Hurrah pity parties! Hurrah for self- pity!

Chapman came in.

"Now you listen here, these grades need to be lifted, and the Council says until you pass Anger Management, you will have extra homework assignments!"

THAT'S NOT FAIR! I screamed and threw my Luke Skywalker plushie at him.

"That means this 'date' is a questionable spending of your time. I don't think you should have it!"

WHAT?

"You heard!"

BUT I WUV VISSER 27! SHE'S PRETTY!

"Pretty doesn't make her good enough for you, dear!" He said, and began to fold my jumpers straight from the dryer.

SHE LIKED MY PRETTY POEM!

"Never marry an artist..." He clucked in a motherly fashion.

I HATE YOU! YOU DON'T LOVE ME! YOU DON'T WANT ME TO HAVE GIRLFRIENDS!

"Now that is quite enough young man!"

IT'S TRUE! IT'S TRUE! YOU WANT ME TO HAVE BOYFRIENDS! YOU WANT ME TO BE GAY!

I sobbed broken-heartedly into my Death Star pillow. I don't want to be gay!

He came over and patted my back. "There, there. I love you no matter what Esplin."

I looked up at him and smiled. Weally?

"Yes."

Even though I'm straight?

"Of course!" Chapman said, and smoothed his yellow, flower patterned skirt.

YAY! YOU'RE THE BEST SUBORDINATE/ADOPTED AUNTIE EVER!

We hugged.

Now get out. I ordered.

"Yes Visser." He replied promptly and hurried out.

Oh, and tell no one to disturb me. I...need...private time...to...think about Visser 27 and I...oooh!

"You do that."

I got bored thinking of Visser 27 though. Maybe he's right. Maybe she's too artsy for me...

Bah, no reason to cancel a good date though.

With nothing else to do, and no homework yet, I turned on my DVD player, and popped in the collectors edition of 'Attack of the Killer Zombie Vampire Andalite Babe Surfers that Just Happen to Also be Robotic!'

I skipped ahead to the part where the hot looking Yeerk babe and her hot looking Andalite host are trapped in the dark cellar and all the dead Republican American presidents start coming out and grabbing at her and she's all screaming and stuff. (So funny...) And then, just as it's about to turn into this pervy scene where the Republicans are going to offer her as a virgin sacrifice to this tree's roots deep in the cellar and the tree's going to rape her, the young good looking Yeerk guy and his good looking Andalite host come in and start chopping heads off with a shovel, (because he doesn't have a tail because he was in some Soviet Russian war that he landed in the middle of), and he rescues the hot babe, and in the next scene they escape to this moonlit old gothic house that's all spooky and they make love. So awesome. It's hilarious because it's one of those really old movies that everything's all fake and plastic and the Republican blood is actually probably just some kind of sauce, and the tree makes roaring noises and stuff...

I got bored of it though, and I've seen it about five thousand times, and decided to go online and mooch around.

It has a sequel.

'Revenge of the Republican Mummies Who Also Just Happen to be Part of Scotland Yard Somehow but It Isn't Really Relevant How They Are, Because All Of the Characters Are so Really, Really Good Looking.'

Must get a hold of it. Maybe Auntie Chappie could get it for me...

Must...obey...Sweenie...for...sake...of...hot...Yeerk...babe...movie...fight ing...will...to...rebel!

Well hope you guys liked that. And no offense to anybody is meant by this. (Republicans included.)