I own nothing.
Shinji vs the Cowboy Mummies
Gendo jerked awake and looked around his office in a panic for a few seconds before realizing what had awoken him. "Oh, God damn it." He wiped a bead of drool out of his beard and pushed the button to automatically unlock his office door. "What's wrong Chuck?"
"You look like hell," Chuck commented as he took in the NERV commander's disheveled appearance. "Did you challenge Old Man Fuyutsuki to another drinking contest?"
"Maybe," Gendo grunted.
"You're not going to wake up one of these days."
"Well, Shinji will enjoy that at least." Gendo rose to his feet and stretched. "Shit, what was I thinking?"
"That your time on Earth is over and you might as well go out with a bang?" Chuck suggested.
"Maybe. Was there something you needed?"
"Oh, right. We've lost communication with the Perfection dig sight," Chuck explained.
"Didn't they just uncover a new section of the Dead Sea Scrolls?" Gendo asked.
"Suspected," Chuck corrected. "Doc Akagi and her little friend flew out there a couple of days ago to confirm or deny it. Do you think it's SEELE?"
"You know, a few years ago, I would have said yes," Gendo said. "Now, what with all the weird shit going on, I'm not so sure."
"Weirder than a massive, planet-wide conspiracy to destroy the world?" Chuck asked.
"Last time I checked, SEELE had nothing to do with zombies, vampires, pirates, terrorists, Nazis, cyborgs or any combination of them," Gendo stated simply. "Or Shinji for that matter."
"What about Keele? Isn't he a cyborg or something?"
"Oh yeah; wait, how do you know about SEELE?"
"About what now?" Chuck asked. "So, I'll just go call Shinji. Sound good?" Gendo opened his mouth to demand answers, but his stomach chose that moment to rebel and he had to dive for the trashcan by his desk. "Right. Off I go." The man hesitated. "Gurgle if I get an expense account."
"Fuck y. . ." Gendo heaved and vomited again.
"Spectacular. You're the best boss I ever had!" Thus Chuck fled without ever mentioning that Gendo's revelries had left him with Sharpied on kitty whiskers and glasses. And a tasteful mirror image of the word "cunt" on his forehead.
(:ii:)
"I understand," Yuki stated as she finished copying down the details of the latest job. She ended the call and dialed Shinji's number from memory. Instead of anyone answering, her call went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, this is Shinji. I'm currently on a job. If you have C-cups or better, please leave your name and a number where you can be reached. If you don't and are legal, why not? Leave me a message! I am down to pound. Lady-enough guys included."
"A job?" Yuki parroted. She snatched up her schedule book and scanned through it. "Oh, you'd better not have gone rogue chasing some double ds again. . .without me."
(:ii:)
"How are we looking out there Asa?" Shinji demanded quietly as he lowered himself down towards his goal.
"We're clear for the moment, but I can't promise anything," Asa's voice hissed through Shinji's earpiece. "Finish the job now."
"This is kind of delicate," Shinji growled as he reached into the pouch on the back of his belt and rooted around for the metal cylinder inside.
"We're trying to avoid going hard out here, but we're kind of drawing attention," Asa growled.
"Ten seconds," Shinji returned. "Hold here." The rope lowering him froze and Shinji pulled out the metal cylinder and careful lowered it into place. "Alright, get me down." The rope began lowering again.
"Is it done?" Asa demanded.
"Yeah. Team two, condense back on my position." Shinji swung his feet down and touched down on the warehouse's cold concrete floor before unbuckling the rope from his harness. He took a few steps back and stared at his handiwork in wonderment. "My God. We've done it."
"It's beautiful," Reinhardt whispered. Asa and team two chose that moment to make an appearance.
"Oh, wow," the team leader stated in amazement. "We actually did it."
"This beats the thrill of my first-born son," Mao said.
"You have a first-born son?" Shinji asked without tearing his eyes away from the wonder they had created.
"Well, so the bitch says," the Chinaman answered. "I kind of doubt it what with the fact that I'm shooting blanks and she's refusing a paternity test." That was when the door to the warehouse exploded open and Yuki stormed in. She managed three steps before freezing, though whether it was the half dozen assault rifles, machineguns and shotguns pointed at her or the miracle Shinji and his team had created that caused it, no one knew.
"What?" she asked finally as Shinji gave his team the sign to lower their weapons. "You guys have way too much free time on your hands."
"Choose your next words carefully," Shinji growled, "because if you insult the pyramid, you might end up in a shallow grave."
"How many cans?" Yuki asked as she stared up at the massive beer can pyramid.
"Well, it's got one hundred cans on the base," Shinji stated. "Uh. . .it's. . .lots."
"Never mind," Yuki replied. "We have a job."
"Oh, where to?"
"Perfection, Nevada," Yuki stated. "The plane will be ready to depart in one hour."
"Alright, we've got an hour," Shinji stated. "Everybody, start packing."
"Uh. . .one thing," Yuki said. She couldn't meet Shinji's eye as he turned to look at her. "Could you take my picture with it?"
"Actually, we have a camera with a timer set up," Shinji answered proudly. "Form up folks, this one's for the company website!"
"Not in your wildest dreams," Yuki snapped back as she posed.
(:ii:)
"God that was a long flight," Shinji grumbled as he walked down the ramp of the C-130 and into the harsh Nevada sun. "Thanks for the ride Morgan!"
"Think nothing of it," Morgan called back. "As long as the check clears. If the check doesn't clear, you should think something of it. . .while I'm firebombing your house."
"And you wondered about me buying a MANPADS and keeping it in my apartment," Shinji commented to the nearest man, loud enough for Morgan to hear.
"Hey Boss," Paulsen called. "I think we turned Asa into a vegetable."
"What makes you say that?" Shinji asked as he turned back and had to dive to the side to avoid the object zipping at him. The wheeled pallet hit the loose gravel of the tarmac and went nose down, flinging Asa flipping through the air and onto his face. Shinji made his way over and flipped the man onto his back with the steel toe of his boot. Asa just kept staring straight ahead and drooling on himself.
"Well, we did have to knock him out a bunch of times on the way over. Maybe Yuki was onto something with the poisoning." Shinji knelt down and promptly bitch slapped the shit out of his team leader.
"Ah!" Shinji jerked back as Asa let out a shriek and shot upright into a sitting position. "What the fuck happened?"
"You fell down some stairs," Shinji stated.
"Then why does it feel like I just skidded across gravel on my face?"
"Because you fell down some stairs and then skidded across gravel on your face," Shinji explained. "It was very funny. We all laughed. I wish I had a video camera."
"I hate all of you," Asa said flatly. "Where are we?"
"CIA landing strip five miles out of Perfection, Nevada," Shinji explained. "Greaves set it up."
"Greaves, guy who can't tie his own shoes, Greaves?" Asa asked.
"I can too tie my shoes!" Greaves snapped, pointing at his feet.
"Those are cowboy boots," Asa replied, "and I think they're on the wrong feet."
"No they aren't. . .huh. Would you look at that?"
"You really let him set this up?" Asa asked.
"I may have been severely intoxicated at the time," Shinji stated. "It was a long flight." He turned to Greaves who was hopping up and down trying to pull off his boots.
"This is why I write left and right on my boots!" the man stated.
"Where do you write it?" Shinji asked.
"On the bottoms," Greaves said proudly. "That way it can't mess up the leatherwork." Shinji thought about that for a moment before shrugging.
"So, where's the ride you promised us?"
"Right there!" Shinji turned in the indicated direction and squinted into the distance.
"What the fuck are those things?"
"They're horses," Greaves explained.
"Horses are real?" Shinji demanded. "Huh. Who'd have thought it?"
"Uh. . .everyone?" Reinhardt offered. "They have horses in Japan, Shinji. I've seen them. . .in movies. Samurai ride on them all the time."
"Do I look like a samurai?"
"More than anyone else here. Well. . .maybe Mao."
"Racist," Shinji and Mao grumbled.
"Hey Timmy!"
"Hi Abby!" Shinji and his crew watched as the incredibly tall, busty, blond woman swung down from the lead horse and snatched Greaves up in a massive bear hug.
"Whoa."
"You see a six foot plus woman and you say 'whoa'?" Mao demanded.
"I want to conquer that mountain," Shinji stated as he cracked his knuckles and adjusted his boonie hat. He made his way over and gave her his best smile. "Hi, I'm. . ." he was rather rudely cut off as Greaves reminded him of their massive difference in mass by punching him into the ground. "The fuck?" Shinji demanded, cradling his newly shaped nose.
"This is my sister," Greaves stated happily. "Everyone, this is Abby. Abby, this is my team."
"Ah, sister," Asa said in understanding. "I probably would have done the same thing."
"I wouldn't even let Shinji within visual range of any of my female relatives," Reinhardt added.
"All your female relatives are ass ugly," Bowski commented.
"You can never tell when Shinji gets drunk," Reinhardt stated and everyone else nodded in agreement.
"True," Bowski allowed. "Should probably keep him away from any feminine men too."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Asa stated.
"Of course not," Bowski replied. "It's twenty-forty something and we're all hypermasculine, sociopaths who are very confident and comfortable in our masculinity and sexuality and therefore don't look down on anyone!"
"Yeah!" the men all grunted as they threw up fists in solidarity. Except Paulsen. He held up his hand and limp wristed it.
"I hate all of you," Shinji growled. "Equally," he added after a moment. Shinji was cut off from any other observations as the woman leaned down, grabbed him by the front of his plate carrier and easily pulled him to his feet with one hand. She grabbed him by the nose and reset it with two fingers and a squeak of pain from Shinji.
"You'll have to excuse Timmy," she drawled. "He can be a little over protective. Seems to think I can't handle myself."
"Well. . ." and then Abby punched Greaves into the ground.
"Love you too little brother."
"So, we're riding into battle?"
"High ho Silver, away!" Greaves cheered from the ground.
"Silver?" Shinji asked.
"Haven't you ever seen Buck Rogers?" Mao demanded.
"It's Roy Roger you Communist fuck," Reinhardt grumbled.
That's the Lone Ranger," Jalal corrected with a role of his eyes.
"What?" Shinji drawled. "You know what? Never mind. Everyone. . .uh. . ."
"Mount up?" Greaves ventured.
"Sure," Shinji drawled. "Everyone do that stupid thing Grieves said." Everyone immediately swung up onto a horse with professional ease, leaving Shinji staring at the last beast. "Why do I get the hillbilly horse?"
"That's a camel," Asa stated.
"Yeah, a special ed horse," Shinji agreed. The Israeli sighed and massaged his temples.
"Camels and horses are completely different animals," Greaves stated. "While both are ungulates, horses are actually more closely related to rhinoceros than camels. Camels are also much smarter than horses." Everyone stared at the giant, blond man.
"What?" Shinji glanced at the other mercenaries and they stared back at him blankly. Shinji dug out a notebook and flipped it open. "Okay, so, Americans understand bombs, guns and horses." He added this latest revelation to his book.
"You're forgetting bourbon," Abby pointed out.
"Ah, bourbon." Shinji added that before glancing at the woman. "Bourbon? Isn't that just sugared up whisky?"
"Awe, isn't that cute?" Abby asked. She grabbed Shinji by the front of his plate carrier and hauled him a good two feet off the ground. "But it's wrong! Bourbon is the true expression of whiskey with an e. Do you understand? Rye is for pretentious dickheads."
"Yes ma'am," Shinji agreed quickly, happy with his new position of being nose to nose with the Amazonian American. "I apologize for my ignorance and would love to be educated by you."
"Shinji?" Greaves asked from atop his mount.
"What?" Shinji growled through clenched teeth.
"I am an entire full-grown man heavier than you," Greaves stated. "I have crushed the skulls of my fellow man in one hand on multiple occasions." Shinji frowned and glanced up at the man. The American continued to smile blankly. "Many brag that the blood of their enemies is on their hands. I have the brains and shattered remnants of skulls engraved on my palms. Okay?" Shinji felt a chill go down his spine and quickly noted "beware sister" in his notebook.
"Loud and clear."
"Good." Greaves tilted his head while continuing to grin off into the distance before leading his horse away. Shinji turned back to the camel.
"I shall call you. . .Cletus."
"His name is Lawrence," Abby stated. The camel looked Shinji up and down, seemed to pause for a moment of contemplation and then spat on him. Shinji took a deep breath and wiped at the mass of brown. . .something stuck to the front of his plate carrier. Then he hauled off and punched the camel as hard as he could. It's legs buckled and it sat down. Shinji grabbed it by either side of its face and hauled it around to look into his eyes.
"Do that again and you're going to the glue factory."
"That's horses Shinji," Asa grumbled.
"Actually, the collagen in all animals would make them appropriate for glue," Greaves stated. "For instance, if Shinji hits on my sister any more, I would be able to make glue out of him."
"Loud and clear Greaves," Shinji growled.
(:ii:)
"So," Asa commented as they trotted through the desert. "What are we even doing here?"
"Investigating an archeological dig," Shinji stated. "Weren't you paying attention during the inflight briefing?" He paused at his own words. "Oh, right."
"Oh, right what?" Asa demanded suspiciously.
"Oh, right nothing," Shinji stated. "You're an idiot who doesn't pay attention to mission briefings. I'm shocked that you've lived this long."
"I never had trouble with mission briefings before I started working with you!" Asa snapped. "It's not my fault my memory isn't that good after all those explosions and those plane crashes!"
"Maybe you should retire," Reinhardt grunted. Shinji threw a canteen at the man. "Hey!"
"Asa is my XO!" Shinji snapped. "He's not going anywhere."
"Really?" Asa asked, sounding actually touched. "Uh, thanks Shinji."
"No problem," Shinji replied. With a team consisting of an American idiot, a Chinese timebomb, a German whacko, a British asshole, an alcoholic Jordanian, an Eastern European and Kenny; Asa was the closest one to being a well-adjusted normal person that Shinji had. He couldn't let his one hyper-competent island of semi sanity get away. He would kneecap the man if necessary.
At the head of their formation Grieves' horse froze and he help up his hand. They all froze and Asa leaned over.
"Why is he on point again?"
"Again, who would you rather trip an ambush?" Shinji replied. "Plus, I don't think he's smart enough to die and I know he's not smart enough to be scared."
"Good point." Greaves gestured to his collar and Shinji urged Cletus forward. The two-thousand-pound critter remained stationary until Shinji muzzle thumped it on its head with his rifle.
"What have you got Greaves?" Shinji asked as Cletus pulled up alongside the American.
"Some kind of research station up ahead," Greaves reported. Shinji followed the man's finger and pulled out his binoculars.
"Yeah, I got it." Shinji spotted the blood splattered building in the distance. "Well, that's probably not good."
"Could be worse," Greaves stated. Shinji sighed. He took his rifle in a two-handed grip by the buttstock and brought the rest of it, grenade launcher, suppressor, bipod and all, down on the other man's head. "My hat!" Greaves managed to snatch his fourteen and a half gallon out of the wind and began quickly trying to reshape it. "That was mean Shinji!"
"Putting up with you is mean!" Shinji snapped. "Who says, "could be worse"? How stupid are you?"
"What?" Greaves asked. He giggled. "Sorry, I just thought of something funny." Shinji stared at the man for a long moment. He honestly had no idea if a 6.5mm round to the head would kill the American or if the increased airflow would make him smarter and possibly vengeful.
"You're thinking of something bad, aren't you?" Asa asked.
"What do you think would happen if I shot Greaves in the head?" Shinji asked.
"Depending on the angle, I think you might catch a ricochet."
"Probably," Shinji agreed with a sigh. He shouldered his rifle and thumbed the MAWL laser mounted on his SCAR. "Hey Greaves, what's that?"
"What's what?" Greaves asked. He looked at the buildings in the distance and twitched. "Hey. Hey. You guys see that?"
"See what?" Asa asked.
"There's a green dot on that building," Greaves stated, looking around eagerly. "You can't see that?"
"That building is half a mile away," Asa stated as he squinted into the distance.
"There's a dot!" Greaves insisted, his horse prancing agitatedly beneath him. "You can't see it? It's there!"
"Greaves," Shinji stated. The massive man and his horse froze as they both looked at him. "Sic 'em."
"Tally ho!" They all watched as Greaves raised his sword and charged off towards the facility.
"Where'd he get a sword?" Mao asked.
"Do you really want to know?" Shinji asked as he used Cletus's head to steady his rifle. "Hey, you guys go on ahead, I'll keep Greaves entertained."
(:ii:)
Asa sighed in disgust as they arrived at the research station. Greaves was pawing at the side of a building, desperately trying to catch the green dot dancing just above his fingertips. "See?" Paulsen asked. "This is what happens when the Empire lets one of the colonies run itself."
"How's your cricket team doing against the Indians?" Asa asked. Paulsen began sputtering and clucking as he tried to string enough words together to express his anger.
"I still think he's a special case." Jalal countered. "I went through SFARTAETC in this country when I was with the Red Berets and all of those guys could add two and two." They were all silent for a moment.
"What the fuck is that gibberish you just said?" Mao asked.
"S farts tacs?" Paulsen sounded out.
"Special Forces Advanced Reconnaissance, Target Analysis and Exploitation Techniques Course," Greaves stated as he jumped to try and get the green dot. "I went through that! It was fun."
"I refuse to believe that's an actual thing," Reinhardt said blankly.
"Weren't you part of something called the Einsatzfuhrungskommando der Bundeswehr?" Paulsen asked.
"Yes, the Army Joint Operations Command," Reinhardt stated. "That's an actual thing."
"That's not what I said," Paulsen said.
"Yes, it is, in German!" Reinhardt insisted.
"German's not a real language, it's a bunch of angry sounds that a bunch of angry people living in one area make at each other," Jalal commented, "angrily." Reinhardt began sputtering angrily in German.
"The dot!" Greaves howled. "It's gone." They turned to see Shinji saunter up on his camel.
"So," Asa began as he swung down from his horse. "The place is abandoned and blood is splashed everywhere. I'm sensing a certain S-word."
"I don't know," Shinji replied as he tried to climb down from his camel and fell flat on his back. He quickly shot to his feet and glared at all present. After a moment to make sure everyone remembered who the boss was and how much violence he could commit if properly provoked, he made his way over to the wall Greaves had been scratching at. "Shenanigans don't usually involve buildings riddled with bullet holes. . .and this is America."
"Huh," Asa grunted as he moved to stand next to his team leader. "True."
"Greaves!"
"What?" Shinji turned and nearly fell over as he found the massive man looming over him.
"Need to put a bell on you," he grumbled. He pointed at the wall. "Greaves, investigate." The large man immediately began pawing at the wall again.
"What?" Asa asked.
"Guns," Shinji said with a shrug. "Now shut up. Greaves is actually thinking. You might scare the thoughts off."
"Unjacketed, low velocity fifty caliber," Greaves mumbled. He pulled out a short sword or a long Bowie knife and began scratching at one of the holes in the wall. He dug something out and weighed it in his hand. "Lead. Round nose. Approximately four-hundred and twenty-five grains, but most likely more due to fragmentation." The man spun around. ".50-70. Popular with hunters."
"I've never heard of it," Shinji stated.
"Popular circa late eighteen hundreds," Greaves corrected. "It was one of the mostly widely used buffalo rifle calibers."
"What's a buffalo?" Shinji asked.
"It's a really big, hairy, pissed off cow," Asa answered.
"Do they taste good?" Shinji, asking the real questions.
"Marvelous." And then a man in a trench coat wearing a bandanna over his face stepped out from behind a building.
"Da fuq?" Shinji asked. The man unbuttoned his coat and tucked the right side back behind his hip to reveal a pistol. "Who is this dipshit? What is he doing? Why is he wearing a trench coat? It's over one hundred degrees out here."
"That's a duster and he's challenging you to a show down," Reinhardt answered.
"A what?"
"Haven't you ever seen a John Wayne movie?" Jalal asked.
"Who?"
"Your very existence depresses me," Greaves stated.
"Okay, fuck this," Shinji growled as he raised his rifle. Shoot testicles first, beat questions out of assholes later. At least he tried, but Greaves stopped him.
"No, this must be done the right way."
"What?" Shinji demanded. Greaves stepped in front of him and unsnapped the thumb break on his pistol's holster. The two men stood across from each other and Shinji peaked out from behind the mountain of man that was his subordinate. "What the fuck is happening?" A ball of vines bounced by between them. "What the fuck was that? Who the fuck is this clown? What the fuck even is this?" A bell toned from somewhere out in the desert and the man's hand grabbed for his pistol. Unfortunately, Greaves' revolver had already cleared his holster and he fanned the firearm empty from the hip. They all watched the man's torso dissolve into a puff of dust as five rounds of three hundred and twenty-five grain solid-copper bullets collided with flesh.
"Huh," the giant American grunted as he twirled his cartoonishly large .45-70 revolver back into its holster. "Usually it's a pink mist." He awkwardly pulled his pistol back out and began reloading it.
"I am an island of sanity!" Shinji announced after looking around and seeing only acceptance on the faces of his men.
"Shinji?"
"What?" Shinji spun on his heel and found himself looking up. There was a short haired woman standing on top of one of the buildings.
"Shinji!"
"Maya!"
"Catch me!" Shinji snatched the NERV technician out of the air and hugged her tightly. "I knew I heard somebody out here!" Maya squealed.
"You're Japanese!" Shinji shouted as he swung the woman around. "You can't leave me with them. They're all insane!"
"One moment," Maya stated. She pulled a bottle out of the pouch on her hip and lit the rag hanging from the top with a lighter. "Have a drink, asshole!" She pitched the bottle at the dead man and smiled as what was left of him burst into flame. "Sorry. What?"
"You're the only other sane person here," Shinji stated. "Wait, where is here?"
"Oh, this is the NERV research station I was telling you about a couple weeks ago," Maya stated. "You can come out Sempai, it's Shinji!" The building's door opened and a twitchy looking blond stepped out into the harsh sunlight.
"Doctor Akagi?" Shinji asked.
"Is it dead?" the woman whispered.
"It's dead," Maya stated, patting the woman's head comfortingly. "Again." That caused the blond to twitch violently.
"So, NERV tricked us into coming out here to save their shit again?" Mao asked. "So, who's attacking, what are they and which one of you is Shinji going to end up balls deep in?"
"While we were excavating, we may have disturbed an old Boot Hill," Maya said cheerfully, eagerly ignoring the third part of that question. "Our theory is that it was built on an Indian burial ground."
"I didn't know," Ritsuko whispered. "How could I have known?"
"Please, use real words," Shinji whimpered. "These idiots are fraying my nerves enough."
"An old west gunfighters' graveyard," Maya stated, "built on top of a much older Native American gravesite."
"Why would they do that?" Shinji asked in confusion. "That's just such a dick thing to do."
"Mostly to fuck with the Natives," Maya answered. "That's the answer to why they did most things around here. Kind of still is."
"Okay," Shinji said gratefully. "An old gunfighter graveyard." He paused. "Wait. So, zombies?"
"Well, considering the natural conditions in this area basically mummified them, we've been calling them Cowboy Mummies," Maya admitted.
"Shenanigans!" Greaves cheered. There was a loud hiss and the man's hat blew off. Shinji caught it and stared down at the smoldering hole in the front of it. He contemplated it for a long moment.
"Take cover!"
-End
(:ii:)
SNACKS AND CARBONATED BEVERAGES! HAPPY ST. PATTY'S! Love to my fellow diaspora, the largest in the world.