Note: I had the idea for this chapter for long, just didn't have the courage to move my lazy a** and write it...
You'd better read previous chapter in case you forgot it, because it's related. And now, there's a bit of plot, who could have believe that? But it's still crack, this hasn't changed ^^ I just thought that just killing a person in each chapter wouldn't be fun after a few ones, and I didn't want to kill the good people (I mean, the ones I like or at least don't dislike *lol*)

About the fic I owe to the winners for last chapter's death, I didn't forgot! Since you were many to win and requested quite similar things for the oneshot I owe you, I decided to write a common fic, it's just taking longer since I still don't know if it will be a one shot or not, it seems to be on a way to a multichaptered fic (that would be fair since you were several to win!)

The man was driving, the traffic being light at the moment, while whistling along with the radio of his huge and classy black car. He had just concluded a big deal with one of the most important gun trafficants of the city, and he would celebrate that in his penthouse. He looked briefly at the passenger's seat: he had the expensive wine, the caviar, the cigars, and even some champagne. Should he have bought condoms? He wondered as he thought that celebrating alone wasn't an option.

"Matt, I have something to do, I won't be long." Mello said out of the blue as the redhead closed the black notebook and put it in his lap. The blond stood up from the bench where they both sat and left the park in a hurry.

The fat man suddenly turned left, then right, and parked in front of a cosy apartment complex. He didn't exactly know why he felt the urge to come here, but well, something told him he had to.
He left his car, making sure to lock it although the neighbourhood didn't seem really menacing, and entered the building.

He tapped his fingers on the glass as he looked at himself in the mirror of the elevator. He wasn't young, in his forties, but despite his fat belly, his double chin and his greasy skin where there had once been hair, he wasn't that bad looking, right? RIGHT?

He entered in an apartment, that wasn't even locked. He looked around, his mind telling him what to do although he didn't have a reason to do so.

"MATT!!!" a voice resounded, scolding and loud.
The redhead looked in the direction of the voice and, opening wide eyes while he tried to think of an excuse, he hid the death note behind his back.
"No need to hide it, I saw it, and I know what you did." the black haired young man stated blankly, his voice getting back to its usual emotionless tone, "Give it to me."
"But L! We're just having some fun! And it's not like we killed anyone nice!" Matt whined.
"I don't want to hear about that, give that death note to me, or you and Mello are going to be in trouble." L added, holding out his hand toward Matt.
"L, please, pleaaaase... Mello's going to be mad at me if I give it to you!" Matt tried to convince the detective, but it was no use. L took the black notebook by force and left, crossing the park with his usual hunched posture and slow pace.

A blond cutie was sat on the bed, all dressed in pink. Curious, he approached and noticed that there was blood all over the room, particularly on the broken mirror. He carefully avoided walking on the glass pieces scattered on the floor. This blond beauty was appealing, and he thought that despite all this blood, he could as well try to invite her to join him to his little celebration. Maybe she had just cut herself while shaving her legs?

The blond girl stood up from the bed, and even if she was still turning her back to him, Dwight Gordon, more commonly known as Rod, could appreciate the graceful curves of the young lady in front of him. Long legs caught in pink lace, delicate hips and round ass lightly covered by a tiny peach colored skirt, slender waist and petite back secured in a blossom corset... she had obviously just painted her nails and was blowing on them.

She was so yummy that Rod couldn't help it. He closed the distance between him and the pink lady, and grabbed her shoulder to make her turn around.

Icy blue eyes looked at him, irritated, as the face turned into a scowl, and Rod fell on the ground, his head pouring blood through a bullet hole.
Mello put back the gun in his garther, slid his feet in black stiletto boots, and grabbing a girly leather jacket in a closet, he left the apartment, uncaring for Rod and Misa's bodies lying on the carpet.

As he saw Mello approach in his girl attire, nails painted, lips covered with the cutest cherry red he had ever seen and hips swaying insanely as the blond catwalked on his stilettos to his boyfriend, he felt tight in his jeans, extremely tight.
He quickly threw the Wall-Mart paper bag behind his back and secured the freshly bought black notebook in his backpocket as he grabbed Mello's hand and pulled him to the nearest hotel...