Disclaimer: If you think we can't do worse than the last two chapters... oh do we have a long way to fall... and you a lot to learn. The masterpiece that is Neon Genesis Evangelion was created by Gainix, and shared with us unworthy Americans through ADV Films. Please keep in mind that we are in no way creative. Everything in here is stolen from other sources. Also, keep in mind that if you've read this far, statistics say you're sucked in forever. Well, we think that's a load of phoey, but you know how it is.
Neon Genesis Goonvangelion
Book 1: The Overdue Re-Write
Chapter 3: Who was that Masked Man? / Unfamiliar Everything
The hotel room was hardly the best Tokyo-3 had to offer, but if the occupants were asked if it was up to their standards, they would have stated that a lack of dead hooker hidden in the mattress was a big plus. Then they would ignore the weird stares and calls to the local police station, instead turning their attention to the vista of Tokyo-3's beautifully functional concrete buildings.
The city was a fortress, really. A trained eye could trace the notations on the buildings that listed the building's location in an arbitrary grid and directions to the nearest shelter. Buildings which retracted in the event of an Angel attack had large structures running up the sides to be gripped by the machinery below ground. Warnings a meter wide and a dozen stories tall were splattered across every building.
None of the three in this particular hotel room could read any of that, of course. They did spend almost forty minutes reveling in the fact that as a 'western' hotel, the information cards left in the room were printed in no less than five languages. The one in the bathroom had racked up seven.
Between rounds of a fighting game they had never seen before, they drew chopsticks from their takeout to pick sleeping spaces. Andy's repeated demands to be 'wrapped in thick furs in the only room with no windows' were ignored by Jared. John wasn't entirely present for the short chopstick picking due to be unconscious, due to thinking the walls were going to eat him and trying to dive, in his own words, 'through the floor.' He came to holding the short chopstick, and took the couch. Andy stripped one bed and climbed underneath it, dragging the blankets in after him like a prospector entering a familiar cave. Jared slept like a log in the remaining single bed, molesting the hotel-issue array of pillows.
Morning found John and Jared each on their sixth cup of coffee, and Andy semi-vertical and ready to complain. John had commandeered the desk for purposes Andy proclaimed were 'nefarious,' while Jared looked pensively at the vista of Tokyo-3, enough baggage under his eyes to keep the three Americans in novelty T-shirts for a decade.
"Oy, what is this strange plot you're concocting here, Genoni?" Andy barked.
Jared was so severely startled from his revere that he poked himself in the eye. "AAAH! God damn it! Can't you warm up to this insanity, Andy? "
Looking at his swearing friend, "Did someone poke you in the eye?"
An orb of burning madness pinned Andy to the carpet like a moth under a needle.
John didn't even look up from his work. "To answer your question, Andy, I'm drawing up a contract to ensure our 'Three Goons' isn't stolen by somebody."
Andy ignored the glaring American rubbing his bruised eye and immediately began to lord over Genoni, his voice thunderous. "What? You mean you're copyrighting 'Three Goons'?"
John spun the chair around to face Andy, a remarkable feat considering the chair did not swivel. His finger tips met in the classic Mr. Burns position. "Yesss."
"Why you? We're the other two thirds this Three Goons speaks of."
Jared got off the bed, a make-shift black patch over his injured eye. He tied his black hotel-issue robe shut and parked himself at Andy's shoulder. "Quit talking like you own the idea, Andy."
Andy looked at his friend. "You think you're Toshiro Mifune now?"
Jared looked at himself, then dropped into a kendo stance. "Release those media rights, you knave!"
Andy whipped out a 2x4. "Why should I?"
Jared drew a fine katana from... somewhere. Casually examining the blade, "No reason."
Meanwhile, across the street, encamped on another building, watching through binoculars, wearing uniforms, Japanese, soldiers, spoke.
The taller one lowered the binoculars. "I'm amazed they haven't killed off each other yet..."
The shorter man frowned, watching the building without optical aid. "How can they just pull out those kinds of weapons?"
The tall one rubbed at his eyes and raised the binoculars. "You probably don't want to know."
A chirp sounded from the short man's belt. "Lobby is getting paged."
* * *
The JSSDF officer charged with central lobby security was not in the habit of humoring fools unless they outranked him. Further, he was not nurturing a predilection for enduring salvos of American swagger and unreasonable, profanity-laced demands in a gaijin tongue. Thus, the time he spent in the verbal sights of Jared was, in his book, time that could have been better spent lubricating his eyeballs with shards of broken glass.
"But I want some fresh air!" Jared exclaimed.
For the seventeenth time, the officer grit his teeth and replied, politely, "I'm sorry for causing you an inconvenience, but you cannot go outside without the Commander's permission and an escort."
The American's words ran through familiar arguments with the boundless energy of a bobcat on crystal meth. "Then get his permission. I don't mind an escort."
"I am sorry, but the Commander is unavailable."
The last seventeen times he said this, the American would make a ludicrous accusation about some entirely unrelated matter and restate the first question with more arm-waving. Yet this time he shrugged and looked wistfully through the lobby's armored glass doors. He mumbled something under his breath.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that," the officer said.
"Nothing," the American said quickly. "Look, I'm goin' outside with, or without your permission. You can deal with this the hard way or the easy way. What'll it be?"
The officer sighed. This hotel was locked up tighter than his aunt's purse strings. Unless Americans could turn invisible or phase through concrete like the super-powered 'heroes' from their endlessly dull comic book franchises, there more a chance of him dealing with a whiny American than an actual security threat. "Now look here..." The empty air waited patiently for him to continue.
The officer blinked at the air. "Where'd he--"
The quickest of glances at the rest of the lobby confirmed it was missing an insane American.
"Kuso!"
* * *
Phone calls were made. Alarms were sounded. People were roused from sleeping in.
Wait, I actually made that last one up. No-one in anime ever has to sleep in, since school doesn't start until half-past ten in the morning, and most office workers don't even have to think about their cubicle-encircled desks until around two in the afternoon. At least from looking at how the sun is positioned in…
What?
Okay, I'll stop nit-picking and get back to the story.
Prick.
Anyway, phone calls were—
What?
No, I didn't say anything insulting to the audience.
Nothing at all.
Assholes.
Anyway, NERV security was tying its collective panties in a knot while Jared wandered the streets of Tokyo-3. Any American loose on the streets is a bad thing. Worse if they're wanted by the military for knowing way too much about delicate operations taking place only in the highest of high security conditions. Infinitely worse still if said American wears a black robe, holding a scythe in one hand with much familiarity, and caressing a yellowed, wrinkled paper lists that stinks of something unspeakably ancient, like a list of mortal lives to be taken that was old when the world was born.
The mumbling in foreign tongues is what we call icing on the cake. He hemmed and hawed, and gawked and stared, as he strolled around the sights, taking in the essence of the city. The public scattered when he passed.
When he took note of a sale on CD's at a small shop, he gave pause. "Hmm… Kind sir, are these for sale?"
The elderly gentleman with white hair standing near the door replied in Japanese, confusing the young American. Unfortunately, confusion and common sense could not slow down Jared, let alone stop him. He swept up a handful of the brightly-colored merchandise. "How much for these?
Again, the man spoke in Japanese, pointing to a large sign, filled with kanji and some very large numbers.
Jared squints at the sign for a moment, then checks a wallet for some bills and thrusts them at the proprietor.
* * *
Back at a certain hotel, a certain JSSDF officer looked around in a panic for his wallet.
* * *
The goon dressed as death wandered away from the vendor, CD's tucked and ready for rapid deployment, machine-gun style, into a handy CD player.
If only he had one…
Realizing this terrible oversight, Jared was about to return to the CD shop when an old man bumped into him. For a moment, the goon thought he had bumped into a small pile of dirt, as the old man was bent low under the weight of his years and wore a worn cloak that hid every detail of the man but his travel-tattered boots and rickety voice.
"Mr. Foreigner?" A coarse greeting tore at the goon's ears.
Jared did a double-take at the dirt mound and properly computed he was looking at a person-ish thing. "Sorry dude, I can't speak Japanese yet--hey! You speak English!"
"Of course, I lived in America for several years."
The wind in Jared's sails flagged for a moment. "Oh, you learned the shitty English."
A dry chuckle prefaced the Old Man's words, "Ah, ahem. Yes, basically. I have something to tell you, and a gift... of sorts."
"How about an auto-translator?" Jared pressed.
The robes hesitated for a moment, a truly impressive feat, since they didn't move. "Maybe not, but I do have some special beans."
An eyebrow was speculatively raised. "Pinto or lima?"
"Magic."
"Riiiiight."
"And as for your advice. The mauve chair and the plate seagull fish Moscow at flute."
Jared's face lit up at once. "How much?"
"I have little need for money. But if you have something to bargain…"
A portable Nintendo gaming system flowed from Jared's voluminous robes as wishes from a Genie's fingers. "How about this?"
The gaming system appeared in a set of tiny gnarled hands that resembled nothing so much as old tree roots. "Holy cow! You can have 'em all!"
"Uh... sure," Jared said, now holding a tiny cloth bag. He turned to leave when the sound of metal sliding against metal sounded from the old man.
One of the tree-root hands was holding out a small tin filled with curious strong mints. "Altoid?"
Not wanting to be a rude, and also loving the strong mints, Jared took one. "Thanks, dude."
The freaky hands waved. "Sayonara!"
"Bye, Altoid man!" Jared peaked into the bag. "Hmm, hope John won't miss that. There's something on these. 'F.M.'?" Now confused, "Cool."
* * *
"I don't know what worries me more; that I traded your portable entertainment for a sack of freaking magical beans and life has been so weird for so long that this doesn't shock me, or that I can't count these beans and come up with the same number twice and this also doesn't shock me."
"Dude, we've been here for like, two days. And what's ever shocked you? And… YOU GAVE AWAY MY WHAT?!"
"It's not like you were actually going to use it... that much... while fighting in an Eva," Seeing John's anger near critical mass, he quickly pressed onward to diffuse the situation. "Well, it's not like you've had much of a chance to play it yet."
"Grrr..."
"I mean, with it still in the box, which meant it was... well, I'm sure there's a bright side to this, I mean… uh, you know, this made me sound a lot more innocent in my head. Can I try again, maybe with some props?"
"How about you quit giving all my electronic games to geriatric lunatics!"
"Now, let's not get crazy here. I'm no genie."
John simmered as the three continued walking down a massive generic hallway somewhere in NERV. The three were flanked on all sides by burly security guards that the trio had been pranking mercilessly since they'd all be rounded up and escorted into the most secure giant biomechanical war machine storage and operations center in the world.
After a moment of blissful silence, the group leaves the hallway, passes through a huge armored door, and crosses a catwalk over an apparently bottomless pit. Mid-way across the catwalk, John snatches the F.M. bag from Jared and throws it over the railing.
"Hey!" Jared protested.
"Quiet. When you find my game system, I'll go get your beans."
Jared attacked his 'friend.'
* * *
An hour later, the goons were locked in another observation room eerily similar to the place they were taken after their triumphant arr—er, after almost getting killed by Asuka two days previous.
Not to be confused with Asuka trying to kill them when they were in the room, and when Asuka tried repeatedly to kill them during the synch testing.
Finally, Misato walked in, trailed by Asuka. Asuka glared at Jared, who immediately ran up to her and bowed at her feet.
"Ugh," the Second Child said with feeling, then began translating Misato's brief speech, a thing she appeared to be afraid to make in front of the Americans.
"We've got your synch test results and... You three _can_ pilot Evangelions. Mind you, this doesn't mean you _will_..."
But the three weren't paying attention to her, caught up in their dance of joy.
"You know what this means?!" Jared exclaimed, jubilant.
"We may have Evas?!" John exclaimed, enraptured.
"We may have Evas?!" Andy exclaimed, gleeful.
"I already said that!" John exclaimed, estatic.
"No! We get to bug Misato and move in with her!" Jared exclaimed, a mile-wide smile on his face.
John and Andy stared at Jared. After a second, BIG grins formed on their faces.
As Asuka finishes translating their deranged screaming to Misato, the Major starts to turn beet-red.
"When will he learn?" Andy asked rhetorically.
* * *
Some time later, the three had been brought to a firing range. Heaven only knows what sort of nut case thinks bringing Americans to a firing range could be a good thing. And putting them in giant robots? Truly, the world is doomed.
Inside of a 'safe' bunker, Ritsuko was directing John. "Okay John, just line up the targets and squeeze the trigger."
John squeezed off five shots so fast the echoes overlapped into one big boom that made Ritsuko's hair stand straight up.
In a bored tone, "Anything else?"
The doctor looked at the perfect bullseye and shared a worried glance with Misato. "Uh... no."
* * *
Jared took his turn.
"Line up the targets and pull the trigger... why are you switching to manual?" Ritsuko tapped the controls. "Is this thing on? Jared? Jared, respond!"
But he wasn't listening, concentrating intently on the target in front of him. After a few seconds to line up, he fired off eight quick shots.
"Dammit, Jared! We--... Uh..." Ritsuko stared at the Lethal Weapon-esque smiley-face on the target. "Right."
* * *
Andy went last, on the account of a very... persuasive crowbar.
"Now, just--" A sudden salvo of gunfire, emptying an entire clip, interrupts the doctor, who watched as everything but the target was destroyed.
"Why did you do that?" She demanded angrily.
Andy scoffed. "Well, the target obviously wasn't going to hurt me."
"And those hills were?!"
Andy performed a dramatic hair-toss, but whatever effect it might have had was lost due to the LCL and lack of video communications. "Details, details, details..."
* * *
After a good day's 'work,' the Americans were getting changed in the pilot's locker room, admiring how much the place looked just like in the anime. Though one crucial fixture was missing…
"Why did Shinji leave so quickly? I only gave him a few rat tails."
John ordered up his best disgusted face and showed it to Jared. "You gave him a few red marks on the ass."
Smiling evilly, Jared replied, "Now guys, there's no reason to cower on the other side of the room, is there?"
"You tell us. And I'm not cowering," Andy said while cowering.
"That's it, you have to do the paperwork," John said, pulling the last of his meager belongings from his locker.
Jared stamped his foot like an angry five-year-old. "Aw... guys!"
"Well, after we take care of some… pressing business." John said.
"You mean…" Jared's tongue was already hanging out.
A wicked grin split John's face. "Yes."
The same grin was promptly mirrored on Jared's mug.
"Guys?" Andy asked, looking worriedly at the other Americans. "Guys?"
The grins grew wider.
"GUYS?!"
* * *
An unknown amount of time later, in an unknown location, there is a very dark room with a bright spotlight trained on a single exam table. Strapped to said table is one Dr. Ritsuko Akagi. Naked.
With Jared leering at her.
"You'll never get anything out of me."
"But I don't want anything out of you..." Jared said, leering even more, then suddenly pulling back after a dull 'thud' noise, his eyes rolling up into his head.
John put his tack hammer away, then leaned over the doctor a shook a small bottle in front of her face. "These are smelling salts. Read the label."
"There's an aphrodisiac in that!" The doctor began pulling at her bonds.
"Now, give us our own Evas or I leave you in the room with him, or... Plan B."
The struggling intensified. "What's Plan B?"
John dipped his fingers in a glass of water and flicked a few drops on the Doctor's forehead. "This."
Ritsuko's reply was frames with a growl. "Bastard."
"Evangelions."
"Never, you'll destroy the world!"
"Before you and Gendo can?"
Ritsuko began to move her eyebrows; trying to stop the itching. "I don't know what you're talking about."
John smiled. "Oh, but you do. Don't be coy. Evas, good ones. American Evas, designed to our specifications."
"Suppose we did request that kind of Eva. What makes you think they would even build them?"
Still smiling. "We're Americans. We know our own. We just say that we'll destroy Tokyo-3 every time we go out and they'll gift-wrap them with a giant red bow."
Ritsuko finally screams in frustration.
"Is that itching, Doctor? I still have Plan A." He shook the bottle again, then quickly dodged a wad of phlegm.
"You'll never break me."
"This can go on as long it has to, but remember Jared will wake up soon regardless."
Finally defiance gives way to complete desperation. "I did the tests myself, you're not crazy, you're sanest person in this damned city! Why are you doing this?!"
"Andy would say, 'we need Mecha.' That's not the case. Jared would say, 'because it's fun.' That's not it either. I guess, that... doing this asserts my sanity, I know I'm sane, because I know exactly what I'm doing."
And then he smiled the smile he used in his drugged interrogation.
Ritsuko cracked. She promised Evas, weapons, their own offices, an apartment next to Misato's, a paycheck by the hour, and anything else they wanted if he'd just let her loose. Then she confessed her soul on everything she'd ever done, some of it John knew. But other stuff, like the seven times she and Maya had stayed for a few extra hours of... training, and the time she got drunk with Misato and they got down on each other, and a bunch of other names and deeds the ranged from mega-hentai to super-evil. Needless to say, John felt very dirty as Ritsuko cleaned her soul on him like a towel. It ended unmercifully hours later, Jared still wasn't even stirring. But the look on his face told John he was wide awake and listening in awe.
As Ritsuko finished, John removed the straps. The doctor finally went silent. "Anything else you'd like to add?" He asked.
Rubbing her forehead to drive away the unbearable itch. "Get out of my face."
John gave Jared a few hard slaps to 'wake' him. "In due time, just sign this." He held up a clipboard. "It's an agreement that you hold your end of the bargain, and we don't ever use the water torture again."
Wordlessly, the paperwork is signed.
"Plan A is still viable though."
Jared winked, and with an evil smirk said, "Tah! NINJA VANISH!!!"
* * *
It wasn't much later when Jared strolled into Gendo's office unannounced.
"Gendo, you seen Ritsuko? She has to sign this thing for Maya."
Gendo refolded his hands in front of his mouth, presumably because his gloves smell of lilacs. "No."
Jared 'accidentally' dropped the clipboard and 'accidentally' kicked it under Gendo's desk. A few seconds later it slid back.
Smiling evilly, the American picked up the clipboard. "Nice kick." Glancing at the paperwork, "Hey cool, you can write in Ritsuko's handwriting with your feet!" He tossed the clipboard at Gendo. "It needs your signature too, dude."
Gendo scribbled his name and threw the board back at Jared violently.
"Well, I gotta get this back to Maya, you two play nice."
Jared left, whistling.
Gendo sighed and refolded his hands. Switching to Japanese, "Idiot."
From under the desk, "I'm going to kill that boy."
"Did I order you to stop?"
* * *
Much, much later, the Americans stand before Hallowed Ground… er, flooring. One could almost hear 'Also Spratch Zarathustra' playing as the Americans worshiped the door to… Misato's apartment!
I'll give you a moment.
Anyway, the Goons finally doing… whatever, and Pose Dramatically.
"Finally…" John said.
"We WILL move in with Misato!" Jared shouted to the heavens.
The two displayed their matching smirks. "You got the paperwork signed, right?" John asked his partner in crime.
"Of course!"
"Eeexcellent," John said, craftily imitating a certain well-known character created by Matt Groeing.
Jared stepped to one side, revealing a stack of papers that came up to his shoulders. Andy and John promptly grabbed huge chunks of it and began to read intently.
"Our own Ferraris?" John said, nearly drooling.
"Yeah, if they ever get here."
"YES!" Andy shouted, dancing with joy. "Custom Evas! Any of you have the specs on Wing Zero from Gundam Wing?"
"Oh please, we don't need to--"
"Nani?" Asked Misato, leaning out of her open apartment door to read the bilingual contract over John's shoulder.
Immediately the goons deposit the papers back into the master pile and try to look innocent. John checks his nails while Andy whistles some SF theme.
"Nice to see you're home, ma'am." Jared said.
Asuka appeared in the door, snorting in disgust as Jared instantly dropped into a properly worshipful stance. Misato exchanged some words with the redhead, who made a face and addressed John. "Misato-san wants to know what the paperwork is for."
John didn't blink. "What paperwork?"
Asuka tightly shut her eyes and counted to ten, but glanced at Jared when she got to three and had to start over. After that was done, she turned to Andy. "Same question."
Nonplussed, "I have no idea paperwork you are talking about. We were going to get some help to pick out our furniture."
"Help… picking out… furniture?" Asuka boggled.
"How can they afford furniture?" Shinji asked, now peeking through the door.
"How would I know? I speak English, not 'moron'."
Shinji decided to spend a minute processing that one.
"Actually, we got credit cards," Jared offered.
Asuka's face was slightly pale. "You can speak… Japanese?"
"I can understand a bit of it. Too much subtitled Anime." He went back to bowing.
"Credit cards? How can you three rejects from a bad horror movie have credit cards?!" Asuka shouted.
"All Americans come with credit cards, part of being born American and all that," John said, as if he answered this question every day.
"Boy, am I sorry I asked. Waddell, get off the goddamn ground and tell me what's in that paperwork."
Standing, Jared looked nervously at the paperwork, and fidgeted like an eleven-year-old girl that had just accidentally killed her cat. "Um…" John and Andy stood silently by while Jared waffled for a solid minute, speaking only when Misato pulled out her service pistol and checked on the clip. "What, er… paperwork?"
Then a huge gust of wind attacked the balcony, and the paper column exploded into individual sheets, coating the goons, Misato, Asuka, the door, the entire balcony, and indeed, most of the building in paper.
Jared, with two sheets of paper stuck to his lips, spoke apologetically. "Okay, I lied. We were going to leave out contracts here while we go shopping for some essentials."
Misato pulled several sheets of paper from her face. She muttered to herself in Japanese, "Shopping? Leaving something here…" Then he eyes fell on the paper in her hand.
APARTMENT ASSIGNMENT:
KAIJUUKURI BLDG. #724
"What the…"
"We've got to learn Japanese," John said to Andy, as Misato and Asuka swore, exchanged foreign epithets, and peeled as much of the rogue paper from their clothes as possible. Shinji jumped into the conversation, and quickly the two women simmered down.
Via Asuka's translation, Misato asked, "How did you get assigned to the apartment next to mine?!"
Before John could stop him, Jared answered, glowing with pride, "We kidnapped Dr. Akagi and wore down her will until she would have signed away her own mother… which is actually not accurate because she would sign away her own mother for a nickel, bitch that she was—but anyway, after a long and arduous interrogation with a lot of… persuasion on our part, John and I managed to get NERV to agree to sign these contracts."
Deadpan, Asuka said, "You kidnapped and tortured a NERV employee in order to extort cash and valuables on the government dime?"
"You know, my version makes us sound less…" Jared searched for the right word in vain, John's hands slowly easing into place around his neck.
"Criminal?" Asuka offered.
Jared might have said something, but it's kind of hard to talk when a homicidal maniac has a death-grip on your trachea and is trying to make an omelet out of your brains.
"Are they going to kill each other?" Shinji asked. "Dinner's getting cold, and this could take a while."
"It'd be worth it," Asuka said, Misato nodding emphatically.
"You've got a point, there," Shinji agreed. "Anyone want popcorn?"
"I do," said Misato.
"I'm fine," said Asuka. "Hey, Shinji, before you get that, do you still have that webcam?"
"I think so, I'll go check."
Andy sensed a need to fill the air with sounds other than struggling and muted curses. "Um, we didn't get keys. Do you guys know how to get inside?"
From the ground, "MEDIC!"
"DIE!!!"
* * *
The sun was a blazing ball of fire, setting the horizon alight in iridescent orange.
And the goons were missing it, sitting in a room in NERV's infirmary. Jared had bandages from shoulder to fingernails on one arm, one leg in a splint, a brace across his nose, and several patches on his bare arm. This is all to say nothing of the wrappings around his head.
John had one arm in a sling, one foot in a cast, some wrapped around his upper arm, and curiously, a bandage running around his head and over one eye. His glasses were still in place, right over the bandage as if nothing were amiss, though one couldn't check for bleed-through since they were catching so much glare from the infirmary lights they could have… been something that… glared. A lot. Like… chrome?
It's Monday as I write this, okay. Cut me some slack.
A doctor came back into the room, a heavy stack of folders in hand, Andy following like a bear searching for food. Pushing his glasses up, the doctor took in the pair with a critical eye. "I know what you're thinking, but no…"
Aghast, Jared stood and stamped his foot. "OW!" Shaking off the pain, "Damn it, how could I not be pregnant?!"
"Do I… do I have the right room?" The doc fumbled with the folders for a moment.
John, who had just removed the bandage from his eye… without removing or disturbing his glasses, stood. "Yes. He's just being… normal."
The doc turned to Jared with a questioning look. By way of reply, Jared rapidly stripped off his bandages and performed a back flip in place, followed by a short bow. "Ta-da!"
John was out of his bandages in one second, and cracked his knuckles in the second.
The doctor took in the bloodstained bandages and the completely unmarred skin of the two Americans, and did the professional thing; he fainted.
Then Jared also collapsed. "Trick knee!" he cried from the floor. "Gets me every time!"
"Can it do Around the World?" Andy asked eagerly.
From the floor, "Fuck. You."
"Well, can you walk?" Andy persisted.
"Of course," Jared said.
A moment passed.
"I'm waiting," Andy chimed, watching his watch as a cat would a mouse.
"Just give me a minute."
"I already did. And, I'm getting hungry." Andy whined.
"Okay," John grabbed one leg. "You get the other one. On three…"
Andy quickly got into position. "Two…"
The door opened, admitting Ritsuko. "What's taking Dr. Barnsbury…" she trailed off as she spied the two figures on the floor. In English, "If you three can move, get out of here. Now."
"It was like this--" Jared started, then squawked as John and Andy dragged him from the room at around eighty miles per hour. "Hey, what gives?!"
"Did you see the size of that fuckin' cannon she had holstered?!" Andy said, pale as a new moon.
"That gun was bigger than her!" John exclaimed, fear giving his feet wings.
"What kind of psycho runs this place?!" Andy exclaimed, then stopped as John dropped his half of Jared.
John boggled.
Jared untangled himself from the floor, made to yell at John, then stopped, and turned to boggle at Andy as well.
"Andy," John deadpanned in a saccharine voice, "Where are we?"
"In a hallway," Andy said, clearly puzzled.
"In what building?"
"The second infirmary, east wing."
"Of…"
"NERV."
"And who runs NERV?"
Gears turned. "Well, SEELE does in the conspiratorial sense, but Gendo's basically in charge for… OH! So the psycho is Gendo! Hah!" Andy snapped his fingers and pointed at John with a knowing wink. "I see what you did there."
"Do you?" John continued, still deadpan.
"I don't," Jared put in, like a neglected step-child.
* * *
"This sucks," Jared said, looking over the empty apartment.
"It's pretty nice, by Tokyo-3 standards," John commented. "But we do need furniture."
"Television. We need a television," Andy insisted. "What do you think we can fit in here?"
"About twenty people nominally, maybe thirty at beer-distance." Jared commented, then collapsed. "Damn trick knee!"
"Does it beg?" Andy asked.
John sighed. "We need help."
"That's true," Asuka said from behind the trio.
The two parties turned to face one another. Asuka had brought Shinji along as a kind of human shield. He was keeping his distance from the goons, but didn't look bothered by their presence.
John was watching the pair like a mad scientist overseeing an experiment. Andy gave them a quick glance, mentally calculated a few firing angles, and took to poking Jared's knee. The smallest goons rolled over on the floor to face the Eva pilots.
"Hey, dude," he said to Shinji with a wave.
"Um, could we ask a bit of a favor?" John asked, once the light over his head went on. He blinked, and looked up. Apparently Jared's trick knee could turn on the living room lights.
Asuka pulled her hand back from the light switch. "You're welcome, and try to keep it down, or I'm calling security."
"Wait!" Andy shouted as she turned to leave, "You're a girl!"
"You figure that out all by yourself, psycho-boy?"
Andy ignored the dig, pointing at Asuka as he 'explained' his 'thoughts' to John. "She can help us pick out furniture. She's got, taste and stuff."
"It's nice to hear you compliment someone for a change, but that's awfully sexist." John said dryly.
Jared came off the floor and hurled himself at Andy like a wrecking ball. "FOR THE GODDESS!!!"
Asuka watched with some degree of amusement until Misato burst into the apartment, gun drawn.
"What's going on here?" She asked Asuka.
"Americans," Asuka supplied automatically.
"Yeah, Americans," Shinji quickly agreed. "Is it all right for them to be our neighbors? I mean, is security going to be down here all the time?"
Misato holstered her piece. "Well, they aren't hurting anyone but each other, so probably not until--"
A particularly bone-jarring impact with the concrete frame around the sliding glass doors finally knocks out Andy. Jared, bleeding in several places, backs away slowly.
"--One of them gets knocked out. And then security will put them on ice."
One cue, dozens of armor-wearing, black-clad spec-ops types rush the room, subduing a grumbling John and Jared.
Misato dusted her hands off. "Well, that's that. Why'd you guys come over here, anyway?"
"Bored," Asuka answered.
* * *
Before long, the goons were seated in the waiting are back in the infirmary. This time Ritsuko came to them directly, clearly nowhere near pleased with their arrival.
"Twice in one day would be impressive. Twice within a few hours is getting crazy. Twice within a few hours because of each other is totally fucking insane."
"Thanks!" Jared said brightly, then Andy decked him.
"Okay, I hate to question fools, but do you guys ever actually hurt one another?"
"Sometimes," John said, thoughtful. "I mean, I just put together a little special effects after we arrived, but our recent injuries have been… genuine."
Ritsuko did not look amused. "And your bones knit together in a matter of minutes."
Jared disentangled himself from Andy and stood before the doctor. He gestured to his wounds. "Oh, we're still injured, we just look all better. Observe." He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket and put them on. Suddenly he looked completely health—err, uninjured.
Ritsuko was still not amused.
Jared grabbed a cream pie from somewhere and smashed it in his own face, then did a quick tap-dance routine.
Ritsuko was still not amused.
Wiping the pie from his face, "Well, I'm out of ideas." He collapsed. "Trick knee!"
"Can it recite the presidents of the United States in order of age at time of inauguration?" Andy asked eagerly.
"Actually, I think it's broken," John ventured.
"Seen enough. Get out of here and get yourselves situated in your apartment. That's an order!"
"You need a whip with that vitrol, babe?" Jared said, offering a coiled bullwhip.
Eyeing the leather implement, "What's that for?"
"For whipping."
"Leave."
The three human-shape dust clouds made no argument, and quickly dissipated to the winds… err, the air conditioning.
Ritsuko picked up the whip laying on the floor and returned to her office.
* * *
Some time later, as night was fully gripping the city, the goons arrived, again, at Misato's. A detour through a local store yielded a dress shirt for Jared, who opted to keep his slacks and kung-fu slippers, insisting against all common sense that they went fine with his pants. John had secured a nice polo shirt, khaki pants and some proper Italian dress shoes.
Andy had, sadly, found a supplier of garish Hawaiian shirts, Bermuda shorts, and sturdy sandals, and was… 'dressed' in new patterns.
"Well, it's now or never," John said in a voice so grave it almost drew its own handguns and made religious invocations in Latin. He knocked on the door.
This time Rei and Asuka answered. Asuka had changed into some shorts and a pink T-shirt with a slogan across the front in German, while the albino was in her usual school uniform. "We're out of popcorn," Asuka announced with a smirk.
"Damn," Andy said.
John attempted to sound formal, "Look, we need to get some basics for our place. Beds, couch, food, that kind of thing. We already got some clothes, but couldn't get directions to the other store and wound up here instead. Could one of you perhaps spend a minute guiding us to the right place?"
"Americans asking for help, this is rich." The smirk grew.
"We're not normal Americans," John said with an evil smirk.
"I can see that. Misato!" She yelled into the apartment. "The dorks want a chaperone for their shopping!"
The Major was at the door in seconds. "You aren't worried about attacking Angels and Evangelions stepping on you, but you freak out at psychological tests and shopping?"
"Something like that," John said. Jared and Andy contributed nothing.
Misato seemed to think this over, making her decision as soon as she saw Asuka 'innocently' polishing a massive wooden mallet. "Well, I've got some reports to finish up, but since security is still around--" A JSSDF hovergunship obligingly flew overhead. "--I don't see why the Children can't come with you."
"Thanks."
"I mean, since you can't even function in public without help."
"Hey, now."
Asuka disappeared for a moment, returning with Shinji in tow. "We'll be back shortly."
The instant she stepped outside, Jared was attached to her like a leech.
After a second, Asuka put her mallet away.
John squinted at Jared's airborne form as it cleared the next block of apartment buildings. "Nice hang time, Ms. Sohryu."
"Thanks.... um... Worm."
"Excuse me?"
Asuka was already walking towards the elevator. "Worm. That's what I'll call you."
John was in hot pursuit. "No fair! I want to be Psycho!"
"No. But Andy can be the Maniac."
"Thanks," Andy said with a graceful bow. "Um, is anyone going to collect Waddell?"
"No, we've got shopping to do."
Andy's face lit up. "I have an idea."
"You're not going to hunt down and kill Jared like wild game."
The light in the Maniac's dimmed, then burned brightly again. "I have another idea!"
"You aren't going to hunt down and kill Ayanami-san like wild game."
And did his flickering light bulb face again. "Okay, I have another idea!"
"Andy…" John started.
"Just have the Faceless Minions go shopping. They're here to do our bidding, aren't they?"
"…What the fuck are you on about?" John demanded.
"Didn't Jared show you his seeds?" Andy pleaded.
John looked at his friend, thinking. Finally, he spoke as if trying to calm a mad dog, "Andy, did you get hit in the head?"
"They came in a bag, remember?" Andy prompted, annoyed.
"Those were beans."
"You planted them in NERV," the Maniac persisted.
"…" John eloquently surmised. Then he shrugged. "We all did want this world to be less… dark."
"Man, and I don't even have a video camera on hand."
"Can it, Sohryu."
A raspberry was the reply.
Completely fed up with the lack of help, Andy bellowed, "FACELESS MINIONS! ARISE!!!"
It's not everyday that one sees hundreds of anonymous uniformed men pop out of the ground like daisies. "Holy shit!" Asuka swore, "It's not everyday that I see hundreds of anonymous uniformed men pop out of the ground like daisies!"
John blinked. "Uh, Minions! Furnish our apartment!" The minions disappeared. "How the hell does that work?" He wondered out loud.
"Don't know, don't care. Let's go home; I'm tired," Jared rambled, standing next to John, covered in bandages.
"Weren't you…" John started.
"Hm?" Jared perked up.
"Didn't you…" John tried again.
"Hm?" Jared motioned for the goon to continue.
"Never mind," John sighed. "What else was I going to do?"
"Say hi to Ayanami-chan?" Jared prompted.
"Oh yeah," John said. "Hi, Rei-chan."
"hello," the albino replied.
"Done?" Asuka asked.
"Yes," said Andy.
The door closed.
The goons went to their apartment.
End Chapter 3
Author's Note: Episode 3 of the original was a weak one, heavy on filler. I'm cutting boring clutter here. Also, no promises on a quick update.