Note: I never though someone would actually read chapter 1, and I'm not even ashamed to provide chapter 2... There won't be lemons in this fic, but a handful of nuts!
I so hate Takada...
Who's gonna be killed next? The reviewer who guesses gets a MattxMello one shot on the topic of his choice!
Kiyomi Takada always thought she was beautiful. Well, considering the amount of make up (animal tested, of course) and various creams she put on her face, anyone would look good with the colored mask she wears.
And she's the type to wear real fur, too. Unacceptable.
That only proved she was an ugly bitch inside, so she could make herself as pretty as she wanted on the outside, no guy would want to date her and risk to be obliged to put his dick in the insides of such a rotten filth.
Except Light of course. Which could add proof to the fact that he has a plastic bulge where his 'Shangri-la' resides, indeed. No man caring for his jewels would approach Takada, I'm pretty sure that dipping your tralala in Takada makes it fall instantly, dry and out of vitality. Like tigers penises used as aphrodisiac in China. Blah. Disgusting.
Kiyomi Takada was shopping in her local cruelty-filled cosmetics aisle mall. She was scrutinizing ingredients lists and filling her basket feverishly. Face cream, body lotion, hair treatment, lipstick, foundation... enough to supply all Tokyo bitches for a month.
She got home, and filled her bathtub. It took her long minutes to pour some of this bubble bath liquid, some of these bath salts, some of that anti-whatever milk, but it was finally filled. She undressed, letting her Prada skirt, shirt and real fur vest fall on the tiled floor (because the devil wears Prada, of course), and walked to the tub, hurrying to preserve her fragile and oh-so-pretty US size 11 feet from the cold, and, sadly, slipped on that cute little tube of strawberry scented gloss that she, not knowing why actually, had put on the floor.
Her head hit the floor, staining her expensive fur outfit, that was spread not far away, with her blood, but sadly not close enough to absorb the shock with the soft mink fur, and she died after a long agony, her face turned in a way that forced her to look at the tiny gloss tube that was a few inches from her eyes, as they closed irremediably and forever: "tested on animals". All minks in minks heaven hailed to whoever avenged them (and I think I heard champagne caps pop).
"That was a good idea, but I would really have loved her to hang herself with her bra, that bitch!" spat Mello at the memory of how Takada had tricked him in the truck.
"Yeah, but she was the Kira of animals, she deserved to die like this!" replied Matt, his big puppy eyes looking at Mello, who patted him on the head.
"Mmh, now who? Oh, I know!" Mello exclaimed, grabbing the Death Note from Matt's lap, making sure to grope him in the process.
"Mello! We're on a public bench!" Matt complained, blushing.
Mello pecked him on the cheek and grinned at the thought that crossed his mind, the pen scritching on the paper.
"Who?" Matt asked, a bit scared by Mello's sadistic expression.
"You're going to see it yourself, Mattie dear!" Mello smirked.