Christian Jaw and Crane Yank, your humble authors, apologize profusely from the lack of updates.

This originally was a very long chapter, but we cut it in half.

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"Argh," arghed Matsuda as he lay prostrate on his apartment floor. He could still feel his head throbbing from the effects of perfect, perfect Rosalyn.

He gazed at his Lucky Star posters, which covered nearly every inch of his small apartment building room. There were no signs of the beige wall that he could see, and every day and every night he would gaze ever so restfully at the inanimate cute darlings around him!

But he was not to be distracted. He knew. He knew that there must be a plan to get rid of the perfect girl. Matsuda jumped off his Lucky Star bedspread and wrote in his Lucky Star note book, thinking very intensely.

1. She doesn't like seeing others in pain.
2. She generates things from no where.
3. She controls the weather.
5. She has to repay every debt, and...
4. She has a nice butt.
6. Always believes anything anyone says, no matter what.
7. She is very gallant and she will always sacrifice herself to save someone else of their pain!
8. She is dangerous.
9. I'm hungry.

This was when Matsuda heard a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at his chamber door.

He screamed like the manly man he was, clutching terrifically at his Konata pillow. "It's her," he breathed quietly. "Oh... no."

The knocking on the door became more apparent and louder. Matsuda, terrified as he was, swallowed up his fear and swung open the door, clutching his anime pillow viciously and then shrieking loudly at whoever was at his front door at this ungodly hour: "GO AWAAAAAAY!"

A FedEx agent stood there, the nametag reading WhiteLadyDragon, and stared for a few moments at Matsuda. There were two other people behind her, holding heavy boxes while staring dumbfounded at the man in a suit clutching an anime pillow and shaking with fear. Miss Bright, who was holding another box behind WhiteLadyDragon, gave a worried glance at scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, who liked to eat scrambled eggs at midnight.

"Uh, sir, we have your anime supplies," muttered WhiteLadyDragon while raising an eyebrow. The two behind her were stifling their laughter and shaking silently.

"You have to sign th-" started Miss Bright and scrambled-eggs-at-midnight together.

"THANK YOU," roared Matsuda, who did not want to seem like a pussy, and grabbed all three boxes before slamming the door in their face.

He sat down and wiped his face, heart still thundering traitorously in his chest. Seriously! He had forgotten about that... But Rosalyn didn't know where he lived... there was no way she could visit him at his tiny apartment. Yes, absolutely absurd...

There was another knock on his door. Sighing, Matsuda got off the couch and opened it up, expecting the FedEx people to have him sign the paper. Instead, he was literally blown off his feet and flew back 10 feet into the room as the force of Rosalyn's perfectness shook the building... perfectly.

"Hello, Matsu-su-dahhh-ling!" she cried perfectly, stepping in the room and causing several of the posters on Matsuda's wall to sigh with longing. The Vase shrieked with pleasure as Rosalyn dropped a perfect daisy perfectly into it, which perfectized immediately.

[A/N: Yes, perfectized. It's a word now. But only Rosalyn is perfect enough to be capable of perfectizing something.]

"It's you," muttered Matsuda, with as much disgust and horror as he could muster into his voice. Rosalyn either didn't notice or didn't mind the hate in his voice, for Rosalyn was perfect, and perfect people understand that people didn't always mean what they said or communicated.

Rosalyn sat next to Matsuda, and touched his arm lightly, all the while gazing at him at him with all the love in the world. If it were not Matsuda and perhaps some other person in his place, this is the part where he (or she) says an angel was looking at him (or her) perfectly and he (or she) felt his (or her) heart melt and everything was right and Twilight never existed and there was world peace. On a side note, mind your pronoun agreement, kids.

Matsuda, however, thought it was one of the most repulsive things he had ever witnessed.

"Oh, Matsu," she cooed perfectly. "I have found an orphanage! Oh, the poor children - I was just walking past - do you... do you think... we c-can have a look at them?" She stuttered perfectly, her rose pink eyes flushing to an even more shade of pink while also blushing furiously, though perfectly.

"You... you what?"

"Let's have a look at the kids, Matsu-su! So we can practice f-for later when we have kids!" Rosalyn said perfectly, clutching onto Matsuda's arm and tears streaming perfectly down her cheeks again as she imagined the perfect scene within her perfect head in a perfect manner.

Matsuda was too horrified at what Rosalyn was saying to chastise her for his disgusting new nickname. Look at kids? What were they, a married couple? They were going to adopt kids? Practice? Pratice!

"I..." began Matsuda, uncertain how to tell Rosalyn that they were most definitely not together, as surely as Shikamaru and Ino are not a pair.

"Oh, Matsu!" cried Rosalyn, flinging her perfect self perfectly into Matsuda's arms. "I knew you would agree! It's just so... tragic, you know. Orphans... they don't have any parents, and who knows what... what... what they've gone through?"

"Er," said Matsuda, not sure what to say, since he wasn't an orphan. He coughed to abate the awkward silence.

"I'm so glad you agreed," cried Rosalyn, her perfect face illuminating the whole room as she grabbed Matsuda and then yanked him out of the room, perfectly. "You're such a dear," she cooed perfectly and pinched Matsuda's cheeks, causing them to burn bright red in the shape of hearts where Rosalyn had pinched him (although her fingers were certainly not heart shaped, for she had perfect fingers. Not saying that heart-shaped fingers aren't perfect, it was just that Rosalyn had the most perfect shape of fingers, and to say that they were heart or even oval shaped was an insult, considering you can't even describe how perfect her fingertips are.)

With his cheeks still smarting painfully, Matsuda was yanked out of the apartment, and his Coat was shrieking silently with pleasure as Rosalyn pulled him (pulled him perfectly and gently that is) through the door and out into the street.

"Let us walk!" Rosalyn cried, linking her arms through Matsuda's and strolling perfectly down the street. There is no way to describe how perfectly Rosalyn walked - it was a mix between a strut (no way would Rosalyn ever strut, only prissy princesses strut, and Rosalyn was perfect and definitely not a prissy princess) and a delicate gait and a model walk. Not that she did any of the three, for she was far too perfect.

Actually, let me rephrase that. Rosalyn could not be described with any of those terms. Let's just say she walked with delicate steps, like rose petals falling softly over a bowl of crystal water while there was perfect soft violin music (most notably played by Crane Yank, except Crane Yank cannot play violin perfectly) in the background. That's how perfect Rosalyn walked. And needless to say, it was simply perfect.

But anyway! Matsuda looked like a drunken, bumbling, stumbling fool next to Rosalyn as she walked. She pressed the button to cross the street and all the people and cars parted like Mickey's enchanted broomsticks' flood before the sorcerer. The button she pressed turned into perfect diamonds and the sidewalk she touched with her perfect shoes turned into solid crystal that sparkled perfectly in the shape of the most perfect footprints known to man. A man riding a bicycle crashed into a telephone phone while staring at Rosalyn's perfect, rippling, flowing, luscious figure.

It can't be! Matsuda thought sickly. It seems... but no. Her powers increase the longer she stays here! It's like a rose in the room. Eventually the perfume of the flower fills the whole room. But it's too early to say anything so far... I'll have to watch her some more. Matsuda shuddered. If Rosalyn hadn't loved him perfectly with her perfect heart, he would have surely been as intelligent as a vegetable by now. (Not to say that vegetables weren't intelligent. Take that carrot over- Ah, never mind. I digress.)

"This way," murmured Rosalyn as she marched Matsuda toward a telephone booth. Matsuda shot her a confused and panicked look, wondering if she was bring him to his doom. I can't be in such a cramped and tiny space with her! I'll die! Or worse!

Rosalyn glanced perfectly at Matsuda and immediately noted his bewildered emotions. She leaned closer to him and shyly whispered, "The orphanage.. it's in England. I'm s-sorry I did-d-dn't tell you - I was s-so scared you would get angry!"

"England?" exploded Matsuda. How were they going to get to England? Come to think about it, how did Rosalyn even get to England in the first place? Does she sprout wings? Does she have time warping powers? Where is she taking me? What is England? IS SHE GONNA KILL ME? I'M GONNA DIE I DON'T WANT TO DIE YET I'M STILL YOUNG AND I HAVE A WHOLE LIFE YET TO LIVE AND AJDFKSA;JKA;.asdfsjfkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk AND I WANT MY MOMMY.

He swallowed bravely in attempt to calm his thoughts. "No, never! I would never get angry at you, Rosie-darling." He mentally congratulated himself on his ability to choke out those disturbing words, although he wasn't sure if he had really said it. He wondered if he had lost his mind. Do I even have a mind to lose? he pondered ponderously.

[A/N: Meanwhile, the authoress has cut her finger on a sharp scissor and will leave momentarily to put on a bandage before she bleeds over her keyboard.]

[Insert pause here.]

[A/N: She is back.]

"Oh, Matsu!" squealed Rosalyn perfectly. "I knew you wouldn't get mad at me!" She clung onto his arm even tighter, and his Coat was positively pink with embarrassed delight. In fact, it sprouted roses (how apt) and bunnies and chocolate and sparkles and all things cute and good and fluffy. This can't be happening! thought Matsuda. I'm a manly man! I don't wear pink or roses or bunnies or chocolate or sparkles or anything cute and good and fluffy! He attracted some strange looks from passerbys, and he could swear he heard one mutter to his companion, "Dude, look at that guy. Is he gay?"

Before he could whirl around and shout a response, Rosalyn had steered him into the phone booth. All the cracks in the window mended themselves, and the dusty walls cleared and revealed bright new paint underneath. The phone was cleaned of years of fingerprints, and all the cigarette butts disappeared from the ground to be replaced by freshly grown flowers and the delightful pictures of prancing rainbow robot unicorns.

"We're going to England! I'm so happy! I'm so glad that you're coming with me! Oh, Matsu- this is a dream come true!" said Rosalyn delightedly and perfectly.

Matsuda resisted the urge to bite off his tongue. Instead, he smiled at Rosalyn, but she was at the phone perfectly and looking at it quizzically (and perfectly). "Let's see," she said perfectly, and not a moment later, the world outside the phone booth's glass walls swirled quickly. Matuda screamed and crouched down, covering his head to protect himself. He felt a tight jerk in his belly button, as if a hook had picked him up and was spinning him around quite rapidly. (This is totally not a Harry Potter allusion.)

Matsuda, who had never been good with heights or spinning telephone booths, instantly felt his entire handsome face go green. Rosalyn noticed immediately (and perfectly) that Matsuda was like a smoking volcano which was about to explode at any second. But it was too late - Matsuda projectile-vomited into the side of the telephone booth, and it ricocheted violently off the glass walls and straight onto the picture of the prancing rainbow robot unicorn.

But thanks to Rosalyn's amazing perfection, the vomit immediately transformed into gracefully fluttering silk shawls which danced in the perfect wind that had mysteriously risen.

"Oh, Matsuda! Are you all right?" wailed Rosalyn perfectly. She put her perfect fingers on his cheeks perfectly, and he weakly stood up. "Oh, good!" she beamed perfectly. "We're in England!"

Matsuda, somewhere in his Lucky Star filled head, vaguely recalled that people in England spoke English, not Japanese. But apparently, this was not a problem for Rosalyn. Since Rosalyn was perfect, she could fluently speak all languages even if they were isolated Egyptian tribes that had gone extinct eons ago. In fact, Rosalyn's perfectness in language extended to the people around her: Everyone found themselves speaking the same language. Somehow. Because, you know, Rosalyn was perfect. And perfect people can do anything.

In his terror, Matsuda's eyes began to glaze over as he continued to allow himself be led by Rosalyn perfectly from the phone booth and onto the road towards the orphanage. The passerbys - who, upon seeing Rosalyn's perfectness, trembled in awe and worship - later compared Matsuda to one of those children that mothers lead on leashes.

"Matsu," murmured Rosalyn perfectly. When Matsuda didn't respond, Rosalyn gave him a perfectly concerned and perfect look perfectly. "Matsu-dear, are you sure that you're all right?"

Matsuda shook himself violently. "I, uh, yeah. Yes. I'm" - here he gave a small, short cough - "perfectly fine."

Rosalyn latched herself even tighter on his arm, perfectly. "Matsu, I- I forgot to tell you, a-and I h-hope you won't get m-m-mad at-t me." Her lip trembled perfectly. "B-But I already requested the two most darling, helpless children for a meeting already... i-is that all right?"

Matsuda felt like cutting his arm off with a chainsaw, but he managed to grin weakly and assure Rosalyn: "Why, Rosalyn, you perfect dear, I never knew you were so compassionate about this!" Matsuda was proud of himself for the amazing verbal skills he just unearthed within himself.

Rosalyn giggled perfectly, which was the sound of perfect sheep bleating shyly in a meadow full of soft, swaying grass, and pushed open the door to the orphanage, sealing Matsuda's doom.

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