"We completed our mission successfully and within parameters. The target is dead." Itachi reported with sociopathic calm.
"Diedara?" Pien asked.
"Art was a boom, hn."
"That leaves only the matter of...What are you doing here?"
"Oh, hi, don't mind me. Just taking notes." The blond kid in an orange jumpsuit nibbled on his pencil, before scribbling something down.
The elite criminal organization, Akatsuki, composed entirely of S-class renegade ninja...Gaped like a bunch of fish. For about half a second.
After which the body was punctured, poisoned, burnt and exploded...More than once.
The result poofed into smoke.
Another clone, carrying pencil and paper, wandered into the chamber. "Right, then, where did we leave off?" He nibbled on the erasor. "Oh yeah..." *Stab*Poison*Burnt*Ka-Boom*
Twenty-eight clones later, even Itachi was developing a twitch in his left eye. Especially since they couldn't find the original.
...Probably because he was peacefully lying on the roof of his Konoha apartment. It's hard not to live for a few million years (Relatively) without picking up a *little* experience, after all.
Nodding his head, he picked up the pencil he'd been chewing on and crossed 'Prank Akatsuki until Itachi develops a twitch in his left eye' off of his list of things to do in the near future, in this lifetime.
Being immortal meant you needed a hobby, after all.