#The point is the threat. Holding the clicker up in front of them and watching their eyes lock to it‚ dilating immediately...

[amarabliss]

Keep’em - 4 (Joel Miller/Reader)

My love was reignited so I will indulge you with more of this for a sec...

Little blurbs of traveling with Joel Miller and Ellie from The Last of Us…

Part One  Part Two Part Three

Joel walked in slowly looking at you laying on the infirmary bed. You were so pale, hooked up to oxygen and a heart monitor, while blood dripped from a bag into your arm. It was too close…too damn close….

He sat down taking your hand in his, “You can’t leave me…alright? I know I’m a cradle robber…you said it yourself, but I don’t care…I’ve made it this far to know you…and I wanna…”

He choked up putting a hand over his eyes, “I wanna tell you…to your face…eyes wide open how it all is going to be from this point on.”

He wiped his hand over his face before looking at you again, “You scared the shit out of me you know…I thought for sure…dammit…”

He brought your hand up to his mouth kissing your cold fingers over and over before pressing the back of your hand against his cheek. He shut his eyes just resting a moment in your presence, happy that you were at least still breathing.

His eyes snapped opened to the feeling of your fingers squeezing his hand. He squeezed back looking at your face, “Lemme know you hear me…”

You squeezed his hand again and he felt his heart leap for joy as he let out a relieved sound, “Yer okay…yer safe and jest need to rest…”

You didn’t’ open your eyes as you whispered, “…socks…”

He let out a laugh nodding a little, “I’ll see if you’re allowed to take them off. Jest rest now…”

*************************************

“Ellie…I’m talking to you.” You frowned a little as you heard Joel talking to the poor girl as you stepped into an abandoned RV. She was was having a hard time still. You didn’t blame her, being held by a psychotic cannibal did that to you.

“Hm…oh sorry…” You heard her say quietly. It made your heart hurt and reminded that this intensely strong little girl was still just that…a little girl… No fourteen year old should have to have the weight of the world on their shoulders like this.

“You’ve been awfully quiet…” He was so worried about her. He kept asking you for advice, to which you replied you had none. You’d never worked with kids…and you never had any…despite that it was nice to know he cared enough to include you.

“Yeah…sorry…just thinking…” Ellie told him quietly before letting out some air paste her lips, “We should keep going…we’re almost there.”

Joel let out a big sigh as you stepped out of the RV holding up a first aid kit you’d found, “I’m worried about her…”

“Me too.”You turned around as he took the kit to put in your bag, “Joel…I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this…”

“What do you mean?” His eyes widened as you looked over to Ellie. She was staring at a mural on the wall, no doubt wondering if she’d ever get to see the animals the zoo had offered once.

You turned around to face him, and your voice came out strained, “Let’s just go…take Ellie back to Jackson and be done…”

He let out another sigh before scratching the back of his head, “I…I feel the same…but it’s gotta be up to her. Ellie…she’s gotta make up her own mind about it.”

“She’s fourteen…” You readjusted your backpack, “she shouldn’t have to make these decisions.”

*************************************

“Ellie!”  You heard Joel shouting as you surfaced from the water. You coughed dragging yourself up to the bank. When you lifted your head you saw Joel doing chest compressions on the girl, “Come on baby girl…breathe for me…breathe…”

You felt yourself getting cold not because of the water but because of the fear you were feeling of losing someone so precious to you. Images of her reading from that god-awful pun book popped into your head. You’d give anything to hear her tell you one now.

You noticed movement and stood to your feet, “Stay back!”

Your eyes darted back and forth between the dozen soldiers that were coming toward you. They kept their guns up as Joel glanced up, “She’s not breathing!”

“Stay back! We’re not a threat! We’re not infected!” You shouted at them stepping in front of Joel and Ellie, “Get back!”

“Get on the ground! Get on the ground!” They began shouting at you. You could still hear Joel behind you begging Ellie to wake up. Overwhelmed you glanced back and was quickly overtaken by two guards.

“Joel!” You shouted back as they hit him in the head, “Stop we’re here for the fireflies!”

One of them snapped their head back to you making the connection, “Stop! Save the girl! It’s Ellie!”

“Shit…” They let you go and started pulling out gear from their pack. You started to go forward and they raised their hand, “Stay back…we got it.”

*************************************

You sat next to the hospital bed staring at Joel still passed out in the bed. Clearly he needed the rest, and you had definitely had thought about knocking him out yourself sometimes. You stole another glance to Marlene. Still unmoving…

“I can I see Ellie?” You sat back looking at her fully, “She has to be up by know…”

“Believe me if she was I would’ve been at her side already.” Marlene spat back at you, “You don’t need to worry about her anymore. She’s under my care…”

You felt your face twitch and was about to speak when Joel started to move, “Joel…take it easy…”

“Mm…Ellie…” He looked at you worry racing through his eyes.

“She’s okay…we revived her…” You helped him sit up.

“She’s being prepped for surgery…” You looked back at her and instantly Marlene knew she fucked up, “We had to move quickly…”

“You said she was resting…” You practically growled at her.

“You don’t need to worry anymore…” Marlene repeated.

“I worry…when can I see her?” Joel questioned her. It was obvious when he squeezed your hand that he was not oblivious to Marlene’s true intent.

*************************************

“Put her in the car Joel…” You held the gun up toward Marlene as she took another step, “Don’t be stupid…”

“You can't save her. Even if you get out of here, then what? How long before she's torn to pieces by a pack of Clickers? That is, if she hasn't been raped and murdered first?” Marlene shook her head as Joel began to walk, she started to follow and you stepped in the way.

“That ain’t for you to decide…” Joel shook his head as he stepped carefully away.

Marlene raised her voice getting Joel to stop, “It's what she'd want. And you know it. You can still do the right thing here. She won't feel anything.”

“Joel…” You knew if you had to, you’d fight him too. There wasn’t a guarantee that the procedure would work.

“Joel listen to me…” The shot rang out and you watched Marlene fall to the ground. You looked at Joel seeing the smoking gun in his hand.

He took a step toward Marlene and you stepped in front of him, “Take care of Ellie…”

He stared into your eyes before nodding and running toward a car. You turned back to Marlene, “Let me go…please…”

You knelt down next to her staring her into her eyes, “I love that man…and that little girl…you tried to have him killed and definitely were going to kill her…do you really think I’d let you go?”

“Ellie…would…” You looked away for a moment as she begged, “Please…I won’t come after you…”

“Yeah…sometimes kids don’t know who to trust…” You looked back to her sadly shaking her head, “And yet…they almost always will trust adults…”

You shot her once making it painless before stand up and walking toward the running car. You got into the passenger side not speaking as Joel drove out of the parking garage away from this hell hole of a city…

Once they made it to the highway, getting enough distance to feel safe, you spoke quietly, “…what do we tell her?”

“…I…” He took in a deep breath shaking his head, “…there isn’t a cure.”

You looked at him seeing the pain on his face, “…there wasn’t a guarantee it would work. It’s not a lie.”

He looked at you frowning, “They had other options…other kids like her…”

You both hashed it out for a while until the story was your new truth. When Ellie finally woke up you felt your stomach drop as Joel told her, “We found the Fireflies. Turns out, there's a whole lot more like you, Ellie. People that are immune. It's dozens actually. Ain't done a damn bit of good neither. They've actually st- They've stopped looking for a cure. I'm taking us home.”

You turned in your seat to look at her seeing how heartbroken she was, “I’m sorry, Ellie…”

“…yeah…” She frowned laying down facing away from them.

You looked at Joel frowning. He took in a deep breath before he reached over taking your hand in his. At least the two of you didn’t have to bear it alone…

*************************************

You had stopped for potential supplies…it had turned into a fire fight…

You shot up gasping for air before cringing grabbing your neck as pain rippled through your body. Warm hand fell onto your shoulder easing you back down, “Take it easy, Y/N…you’ll rip your stiches.”

“Tommy?” You stared at him as you fell back, “What happened?”

He looked at you with a small smile, “You did what I asked…can’t thank you enough. Seems like it might’uh cost you a bit more then I anticipated.”

“In the world we live in…I’m sure could have been in worst situations…” You shut your eyes, “Joel and Ellie?”

“Ellie is helping out around town…Joel���” Tommy sighed, “Well he finally went to sleep yesterday and hasn’t moved since. Seems like he was stressed…”

“When isn’t he…” You smirked a little reaching up to your neck wincing.

“Leave it alone…” Tommy smacked your hand.

“It itches!” You growled at him opening your eyes. They moved to movement behind him, “Ellie?”

She slowly stepped inside looking at you, “Hi…”

Tommy smiled waving her over, “Will you sit her a minute while I get doc and make sure she don’t do nothin’ stupid?”

“Yes sir!” Ellie smiled at him as he walked out. She turned back to you, “So…how ya feelin’?”

“About how you think…” You smiled at her seeing her stand a bit away, “What’s up kiddo?”

Her eyes darted away as she picked at her thumbnail, “It’s nothing…it can wait tell you and Joel are feeling better.”

“Ellie…” You reached your hand out to her making her finally come closer, “What’s wrong?”

She sighed, “I asked Joel…and he said…He said everything that you both said about the Fireflies was real…and I just…I don’t know…”

“Ellie look at me.” You watched her lift her head looking to your eyes, “That place couldn’t do anything for you or the world…they tried and they failed…there was never any guarantees. Maybe one day…Hopefully one day…that will change.”

You watched her tear up nodding slowly, “Okay…”

You squeezed her hand giving her a smile, “Did you meet Dina and her crew yet?”

“Yeah, Jesse and Emily too…they seem cool…I guess…” You smiled as she started to talk about her day. Everything…was finally beginning to settle…and you wondered if it was a good thing.

You hoped it was a good thing…

[zen3to5]

J/H 6-21: 5:15

With previous changes to episode order, "Do You Think It's Alright?" is now 6-20. We assume that plays out as we know it, which takes us into this rewrite of 6-21...

(NOTE: There are two jokes here borrowed from sources other than That 70s Show - one from before the 70s [a Bugs Bunny cartoon] and one after [a Chris Rock routine.] See if you can guess which two!)

FF.Net AO3

***

SHOW TITLE   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   A calm Friday afternoon. ERIC and DONNA share the couch and JACKIE sits in Hyde’s chair. They’re at a game of Scrabble laid out over the coffee table.   The basement door opens and MITCH and FEZ enter.   MITCH: Hey, guys.   ERIC: Mitch! I thought I heard a matchbox car pull up.   MITCH: Yeah, I'm short, and you're shaped like a lollipop. I'm not in the mood, Forman. My brother Jack's wedding is tomorrow, and I don't have a date.   JACKIE: Oh, did you try Aly Richards? She'll go anywhere there's cake.   FEZ: That's how I got her into my car. But then I ate the cake, and she left.   He sits in the lawn chair. Mitch shakes his head, crosses to sit between Eric and Donna on the couch.   MITCH: No, I'm in a real bind here. I showed up at the engagement party alone. My family made so much fun of me. So I said to myself -  'cause, of course, I was alone - that I would bring someone sizzling hot with me to the wedding. (turns to Donna) Hey, Donna, would you be my date?   Donna smiles, pats his arm.   DONNA: Mitch, I don't know what to say.   ERIC: Oh, let me help you out. (to Mitch) NO!   MITCH: Donna, if you went with me, I might finally earn some respect from my family.   ERIC: Let me say this for you one more time in Spanish. NO!   FEZ: I taught him that.   DONNA: Eric, it seems harmless.   ERIC: No, Donna. I'm sorry, but I forbid it.   DONNA: Oh. (turns to Mitch) Mitch, I'd love to go.   ERIC: Donna, what the hell?   DONNA: No, I forbid you to ask me questions about this.   ERIC: But, Donna –     DONNA: Let me tell you one more time in Spanish.   She blows a raspberry, stands, and crosses to the deep freeze and takes out a popsicle. Mitch follows after her.   MITCH: Oh, hey, Donna, thanks so much for doing this.   DONNA: Sure, but, you know, just friends. You don't get to touch any of this juicy stuff.   She indicates her breasts.   MITCH: No, don't worry. I'll even ask another couple to be, like, chaperones. Hey, Jackie, do you and Hyde want to go?   JACKIE: Oh, Steven has to work at the hotel tomorrow.   MITCH: But the reception’s at the hotel.   JACKIE: Exactly. So we’re in.   FEZ: But Jackie, if Hyde is working, wouldn’t that mean you’d sit out at the reception alone while he’s in the kitchen?   JACKIE: Hey, we’ll be in the same building for the same wedding. I work with what I’ve got.   She turns back to her tiles.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Later that afternoon. RED stands with a CABLE INSTALLER in the drive. Red hands the installer a check, the installer cuts a receipt, and he goes on his way.   KITTY steps out from the kitchen, crosses to Red.   KITTY: Remind me what he installed again?   RED: Cable television, Kitty. We’re stepping into the future.   KITTY: Cable? Red, you said you’d rather kiss Ho Chi Minh than pay for TV.   RED: Well, that was before I knew what a good deal it was. For 20 bucks a month, we now have over 20 channels.   KITTY: Uh-huh... but everything we watch is on the channels we already have.   RED: Well, now we have new things to watch.   KITTY: Like what?   RED: Well, like... oh, there’s... Kitty, Laurie’s moved into an apartment, Eric and Steven are always working, and you and I are running out of things to talk about. We need something to fill up the day.   He retreats into the kitchen before Kitty can retort. She follows him inside, and we cut to:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   The two of them sit down at the kitchen table, where a tray of sandwiches and plates are waiting. They each take a sandwich and begin to eat when KELSO enters from the basement, a backpack slung over his shoulder.   KITTY: I'm sorry, Michael, but I'm gonna have to search that bag. Every time you leave my house with a backpack, I have to buy new hairspray.   KELSO: I didn't take anything. This is lunch. I planned a whole romantic day for me and Brooke.   KITTY: So, where are you and Brooke headed?   KELSO: Well, since she's having a baby, I thought I'd take her to a place that kids and girls like, so I figured I'd start the date off at an amusement park and we'd go on a ride on the Lightning Whip. And then I'm gonna take her horseback riding up to this overlook, and then we're gonna get cozy and drink a little Bingo Bango.   He reaches into the backpack, pulls out a bottle of booze.   KITTY: Oh, sweetie, you're so wrong, it makes me want to cry a little. (stands) No, no. Pregnant women cannot go on roller coasters, and they definitely can't drink alcohol, or bad things can happen to the baby.   RED: Case in point - Eric.   KITTY: Well, we didn't know any better back then. (to Kelso) I'm teaching a baby-care class at the hospital. If you brought Brooke, I think she'd be very impressed.   KELSO: All right. Yeah, sign us up. You know, there was a time that all I had to do to impress a girl was turn my eyelids inside out. This baby's changing everything.   He takes a step toward the patio door, then stops and crosses to Kitty.   KELSO (cont’d) Oh...   He reaches into the backpack, takes out a can of hairspray. Kitty snatches it back from him as he exits.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Fallin’ in Love (Re-Recorded)” by Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds.   INT. BALLROOM – DAY   The next day. Wedding time – or, more specifically, the reception. The hotel ballroom has been mildly decorated for the occasion, with a high table for the bride and groom at the far end of the dance floor and round tables with white tablecloths scattered about the near side. A DJ has a station set up with record player and speakers – he currently has “Fallin’ in Love” playing.   The seating chart has Mitch, Donna, and Jackie at a round table, shared with a young woman their age in a fur wrap – CHRISTY. She and Jackie are happily chatting when Jackie breaks away to nudge Mitch’s shoulder.   JACKIE: Mitch, you never told me your family brushed up against anyone in the country club set. Christy and I used to go horseback riding there every summer.   CHRISTY: (to Jackie) It really has been forever, Jackie. We haven’t seen you at the PPCC since your father went to prison and your mother ran off to drink her weight in Tequila.   JACKIE: Yeah, but at least sitting out the last season meant I didn’t have to see you try and fail to make fur work in summer for the tenth year in a row.   They stare each other down for a moment, then break into girlish laughter. Mitch leaves them to it and turns back to Donna.   MITCH: Thanks again for doing this, Donna. Grandpa saw me walk in with you, and he slipped me a 20. (holds out the 20) Here, you should have this.   DONNA: See, that kind of makes me a hooker.   Mitch pulls a face, “ah,” and pockets the 20.   Further conversation is cut short by Eric, dressed for work, stepping up to the table.   ERIC: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Eric.   DONNA: Eric, what are you doing here?   ERIC: I changed my work schedule so I could make sure that Mitch keeps his tiny little doll hands to himself.   Donna stands and pulls Eric aside, even as Mitch is beckoned to the high table.   DONNA: Eric, Mitch is not a threat to you. Okay, he's a perfectly harmless guy who happens to worship the ground I walk on. You know, it's not his fault that I'm eye candy.   At the other side of the table, a young blonde man with chiseled features comes up to Christy. She and Jackie stand to meet him, and he embraces Christy.   MAN: Hey.   They kiss.   CHRISTY: Jackie, this is my boyfriend, Mason. He’s a fraternity man at Marquette, enrolled in their culinary arts program.   MASON offers his hand, and Jackie shakes it.   JACKIE: Really? You know, my boyfriend, Steven, is already working as a chef.   Christy and Mason’s eyebrows go up; they’re impressed. Naturally, Hyde chooses this moment to come into the ballroom, his chef’s jacket opened at the top and covered in grease and sauce stains. He goes straight to Eric and leans in near his ear.   HYDE: (hushed) Hey, Forman, when you bring out all the orders of sea bass, give Mitch the plate with the blue ring. That’s the one I spit in.   He and Eric trade friendly swats to the chest. Hyde heads back out, wiping his hands on his jacket front. He pauses when he comes behind Jackie.   HYDE: Havin’ fun, doll?   He pats her on the butt and exits. Christy and Mason watch him leave, then turn back to Jackie with far more condescending glares. Jackie gives them a nervous smile and giggle.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – DAY   Fez sits alone on the couch, watching THE BRADY BUNCH on TV. His feet are propped up on the coffee table – on the cable box on the coffee table.   Red enters from the kitchen, beer in hand, and freezes halfway to the couch when he sees Fez.   RED: You? Eric and Steven are out, and your unholy marriage to my daughter has finally been washed away by the blessed miracle of divorce. What reason do you have to be here now?   FEZ: My host family has Bible study tonight. They like to act out the passages, and if I’m there, I always have to play the heathens, the heretics, the prostitutes... they even make me play the adulteresses. And one time, when I said I wanted to get more into character by wearing a dress, they made me talk with the priest.   Red realizes where Fez’s feet are. He lunges, slaps them down.   RED: Get your feet off of there! Now look – we’re in my house. This is my television. And I’m about to sit down in front of my television and enjoy my first day of cable.   FEZ: (gasps) You have cable? The home of The Charity Car Wash Girls? Well, why didn’t you say so, little buddy? Start ‘er up!   He scoots over and gestures for Red to take his seat. Red rolls his eyes but sits down. He picks up the clicker and moves up one channel, and the TV audio shifts to:   TV (aud. only): Stop spraying me, silly, or I’m gonna have to come over there and kiss you.   FEZ: Oh, this is it!   He leans forward, in rapt attention, heedless of the contemptuous look Red’s giving him.   TV (aud. only): Tasha, do you want a kiss, too? Wow, Tasha. You have the biggest –   Red clicks to the next channel up, and we hear:   TV (aud. only): Thunderstorms, which will result in a small craft advisory on Lake Superior.   Fez’s face falls. He sits back and slumps down into the couch.   FEZ: Weather? I’d have more fun sitting through a lecture from the priest after playing the adulteress.   He pouts, Red grins, and they go on watching the weather.   BUMPER   INT. CLASSROOM – EVENING   A small conference room in the hospital, converted into a classroom. A number of couples, the women in various stages of pregnancy, are seated before a blackboard and desk. A screen of female anatomy is pulled down over the board.   Kelso and BROOKE step into the doorway.   KELSO: (looks around room) Man, look at all these preggos. (points to one woman) God, that one's walking like a gigantic duck.   BROOKE: She is definitely in her third trimester. The baby probably dropped.   KELSO: No, I think it's still in there.   BROOKE: It means the baby's gotten itself into the birthing position.   KELSO: Oh. Man, you really know stuff.   BROOKE: Well, I've read every baby book in the library. By the way, did you ever read that book I gave you by Dr. Spock?   KELSO: No, I kinda lost interest when I realized it wasn't about Star Trek.   BROOKE: Well, you signed us up for this class, and that was very thoughtful.   KELSO: Well, that's me. I'm Mr. Thoughtful.   They make their way into the room and take seats in the front row. Kelso looks to the extremely pregnant woman on his left.   KELSO: Man, how many kids are you having?   Kitty, in nurse’s uniform, enters, stands at the desk.   KITTY: Oh, hi, Michael. Hope you're ready to talk boo-boos, burps and binkies. (laughs)   Kelso and Brooke stand.   KELSO: Yeah, uh, Brooke, this is Mrs. Forman, the lady that told me I shouldn't take you horseback riding. And, Mrs. Forman, this is Brooke, the hot librarian I impregnated.   KITTY: Well, I am so happy you two are here. (to class) And you should be happy, because you have me as your tour guide as you make the transition to parenthood.   She pulls on the screen to roll it up and reveal the blackboard. “KELSO RULES” is written across it in chalk.   KITTY (cont’d): Michael.   KELSO: But that could have been anybody. Everybody knows I rule.   KITTY: Okay, all right, okay. Let's get started.   Kelso and Brooke sit, and the rest of the class settles into place.   KITTY (cont’d): Now, when you first bring your little bundles of joy home, they will spend almost 20 hours a day sleeping and pooping.   KELSO: (to Brooke) Man, that's the life, huh?   Brooke shushes him as Kitty goes on.   KITTY: Now, who can tell me what they will do with the rest of their cute little time?   Brooke’s hand shoots into the air in classic A-student fashion.   KITTY (cont’d): Ooh. Yes, Brooke.   BROOKE: They'll be eating.   KITTY: Very good. And what will they be eating?   KELSO: (to Brooke) Hey, when you're not looking, I'm gonna sneak the little guy some popcorn.   BROOKE: Michael, babies can't eat popcorn. They don't even have teeth.   KELSO: My grandma Bessie doesn't have any teeth, and trust me, she ain't shy around a bucket of popcorn.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Just What I Needed” by the Cars.   INT. BALLROOM – EVENING   The reception continues. “Just What I Needed” is the DJ’s current song of choice. Hyde is back in the room, as sloppy as ever. He and Eric lean against the wall to one side of the ballroom, muttering quietly to each other. Donna Jackie, Christy, and Mason are still at their table. Except for Donna, who is watching couples dance, they all look Hyde’s way.   CHRISTY: (to Jackie) So... that’s who you’re seeing these days. Where exactly did he learn to be a “chef?”   JACKIE: Um... Steven is... self-taught. Yeah, he’s not a big believer in college.   CHRISTY: (heavy sarcasm) Really? Because I would have thought he’d be the model applicant for any admissions board or scholarship committee.   JACKIE: Yeah, he doesn’t believe in material wealth either. Or hair care. And, as any Mormon will tell you, conversion takes time, and I’ve only had him for a year and a half.   Over by the wall, Hyde gets into a coughing fit, delivered directly into his hand, which he wipes on his jacket before resuming his talk with Eric.   CHRISTY: Well, Jackie, I, for one, think it’s very generous of you to take on such an unrefined and underprivileged young man as your boyfriend. It’s kind of like My Fair Lady in reverse. But you’d still have to Rex Harrison your way through the songs.   She throws her head back with a haughty “ha.” Jackie’s eyes narrow, but she has no immediate retort.   CHRISTY (cont’d): Of course, Mason here made it into college with top honors. His parents sit on the Marquette board and are among their top donors.   She turns to beam at him. Jackie isn’t so impressed; Mason is poking at his steak with a butter knife, his jaw slack and his face vacant. He looks up at Christy.   MASON: (nods to Jackie) I think her boyfriend ruined this pork. It’s too tough to cut.   Christy’s eyes drop down to the plate. Her smile starts to slip.   JACKIE: (to Mason) Maybe because that’s a steak. And you’re trying to cut it with a butter knife. (to Christy) I’m sure all those donations had nothing to do with him getting into Marquette.   An argument is prevented by stirrings at the high table: the DJ cuts the record, the bride and groom move their seats to the middle of the ballroom, and Mitch steps out before them, microphone in hand.   MITCH: I - I guess it's a tradition for the best man to say a few words. And all I really want to say is that my brother is not the only one fortunate enough to find himself in love's warm embrace.   He walks as he talks, crossing over to Donna. He holds out a hand to indicate her.   MITCH (cont’d): So, everybody, I'd like to introduce you to Donna, my new fiancée. Or as I like to call her, my big, red love machine. That's her.   He points to her, and the crowd begins applauding politely. Mitch basks in the attention, oblivious to the glares he’s getting from Donna and Eric.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. BALLROOM – EVENING   Right where we left off. As the applause dies down, Donna gets to her feet and advances on Mitch.   DONNA: Mitch, what the hell are you doing?   MITCH: (to the crowd) Ooh, look at that fireball go. Feisty at the table, feisty in the bedroom.   Eric’s had enough. He marches over and seizes the microphone from Mitch.   ERIC: (to the crowd) No. No. She's feisty in my bedroom, people! My bedroom! Okay, he's just some lying, crazy lunatic. He's crazy. This guy's crazy!   You could hear a pin drop in the ballroom. All eyes are on Eric and Mitch. It slowly dawns on Eric that he’s still at a wedding reception. He turns, smiles to the bride and groom.   ERIC (cont’d): And, uh, my congratulations to the happy couple.   He gives them a polite nod; nervously, they nod back.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – NIGHT   The inaugural cable viewing continues. Red still has the tube turned to the national weather; he sits back in the couch, grinning at the forecast, while Fez sits next to him, pouting.   TV (aud. only): ...barometric pressure from a cold front out of Canada...   RED: Look at all that hail in Buffalo.   FEZ: What hail? It’s just a map with a line going around it. Come on, little buddy, get off this thing and let’s see some sudsy sluts.   RED: For the last time, I’m not your “little buddy.” And my cable, my channel.   FEZ: But Mr. Red, how can you watch this?   RED: It comforts me to know that there are people out there more miserable than me, like those people in Buffalo. And you.   Fez’s pout deepens, but Red just chuckles and turns back to the TV.   CUT TO:   INT. CLASSROOM – NIGHT   Baby class has moved on to diaper practice. The couples all stand at makeshift changing stations with baby dummies and diapers to practice with. Kitty observes one OLDER COUPLE as they complete the task.   KITTY: Very nice. Baby says, "it's tight, but not too tight, and I wuve the way you powdered my widdle bottom."   At their station, Kelso watches as Brooke struggles to pull the diaper tight and finish the safety pin.   KELSO: I never thought I'd say this, but you gotta take it easy on the nads.   BROOKE: I know what I'm doing. It's just - it sounded so much easier in the books. (finishes) Okay, there.   She hands the dummy to Kelso, who presents it just as Kitty comes over.   KITTY: Ooh, let's have a look.   Kelso tugs at the waistline; it’s too loose.   KITTY (cont’d): Uh-oh. Baby says, "that's too loose. Now I'm gonna wee-wee on Daddy."   Brooke takes the dummy back.   BROOKE: I just have to re-do the safety pin. (struggles) God, why can't I do this?   KITTY: Oh, no. Baby says, "ouch, you poked me. Now I'm gonna cry. Wah! Wah!"   Brooke throws her hands up.   BROOKE: That's it. I give up.   She runs out of the room.   KITTY: (calling after Brooke) "Oh, Mommy, don't leave me. I don't want to end up in state-run foster care. Wah! Wah!"   Kelso gives Kitty a long look.   KELSO: You know, you seem normal around your family, but out in the world, you're a little nuts.   He leaves her to think about that as he goes after Brooke.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Kiss You All Over” by Exile.   INT. BALLROOM – NIGHT   What’s left of the reception lingers on after Mitch’s speech. The DJ plays “Kiss You All Over.” The bride and groom receive a few relatives at the high table and Mitch skulks in the far corner. Hyde has taken over one of the many vacant tables, his feet propped up on the table. He and Eric help themselves to leftover food.   Jackie and Christy stand by their table while Mason sits and chats with Donna.   MASON: So it turned out that “yeast” means something else in cooking. But by then, I’d already puked in the dish, so...   He shrugs. Donna’s face twists into a tight knot of disgust.   MASON (cont’d): Yeah, they were gonna flunk me on that one, but my dad stepped in.   DONNA: Well, that’s – nice...   MASON: He stepped in literally, too – some of it got on the floor.   Meanwhile, Jackie and Christy have a conversation of their own going:   CHRISTY: Well, Jackie, not that it hasn’t just been a little slice of heaven catching up – because it hasn’t. (giggles) I would say we’ll see you around, but... well, jailbird dads and runaway moms are one thing, but I think the PPCC draws the line at taking in strays.   She nods to Hyde’s table. Jackie turns just in time to see Hyde load a spoon with a dumpling, pull it back, and shoot it into Eric’s waiting mouth.   JACKIE: (beat) You know, Christy, if I wasn’t with Steven, I might have gone along with all your insults tonight with some laughs, some passive-aggressive comebacks, and insisting that I didn’t want back in the country club set, which I would’ve hoped you didn’t realize meant I desperately wanted back in the country club set. But, since I am with Steven, I’m just gonna tell you to shut your hole.   Christy gasps, recoils. Jackie advances on her.   JACKIE (cont’d): Steven is a great guy and a wonderful boyfriend. And, okay, maybe he isn’t PPCC material, but who cares? He’s still a good person, and he turned out that way even after a hard, poor life. (points at Mason) He didn’t have one of the top donor families at Marquette as his parents paving the way from him, making it look like he was great when he was really a doofus. And, by the way...   Jackie tosses a small pack of something to Christy, who just catches it.   JACKIE (cont’d): That was in Mason’s pocket.   Christy gives Jackie a look, “how’d you get this?”   JACKIE (cont’d): Oh, yeah. My boyfriend taught me how to pickpocket.   CHRISTY: (eyes the pack) This is a pack of condoms.   JACKIE: Mmm-hmm. It’s a pack of three.   CHRISTY: But there’s only two.   Jackie nods, gives Christy a leading look. It hits her; she gasps, grabs Mason by the ear, and pulls him to his feet.   CHRISTY (cont’d): MASON!   She drags him, still by the ear, out of the ballroom.   Hyde and Eric, who have been watching the scene, stand and cross to the table.   HYDE: Jackie, man, you didn’t have to do that. A couple of squares wanna talk, that doesn’t bother me.   JACKIE: Well, it bothers me. Nobody gets to talk about you like that when I’m around or try to pass off their lunkheaded man meat as better than you. Steven, you are better than any guy I’ve ever met, and I’m proud of you.   A tiny smile flickers across Hyde’s mouth, the one chink in his cool demeanor. He lets Jackie cup his face and pull him down for a kiss, then puts his arm around her shoulders.   HYDE: You know, just for that, I think I’ll come in early tomorrow and get you some room service breakfast. And I’ll even follow the health code.   Jackie gives him a playful swat to the chest.   ERIC: I don’t know, Jackie. I think there are a couple of other good men around here. For example, (to Donna) It turns out I was right about Mitch. So, let's see, - that's you, wrong. Me, right.   DONNA: (sighs) All right, you don't have to rub it in.   ERIC: Uh, I think I do, Donna. So rub-a-dub-dub, I'm right.   Mitch, seeing them all gathered, stomps over and gets into Eric’s face.   MITCH: (hushed, seething) I am humiliated! The only way I'm gonna get my pride back is to kick your ass! So I'm challenging you to a fight. That is, unless you're too chicken.   ERIC: What is this, third grade?   MITCH: Okay, here's what I just heard – (flaps his arms like a chicken) Oh ba-ba-ba-gawk, ooh, third grade, ooh.   ERIC: Okay, you can stop doing that.   MITCH: Bawk, I can stop doing that, bawk.   ERIC: Okay, fine. You know what? I'll fight you. Fine.   MITCH: Good. Tomorrow! 5:15, the playground. You be there!   He starts to walk away.   DONNA: Um, why not just do it at 5?   MITCH: I have swimming lessons!   He storms from the ballroom.   CUT TO:   INT. CLASSROOM – NIGHT   Baby class is over. Alone in the classroom, Kitty gathers and cleans the baby dummies. She wipes at one with a rag.   KITTY: (to dummy) Okay, I don't know who gave you a tattoo, but that is not good parenting.   Kelso and Brooke enter, mid-argument.   BROOKE: Look, Michael, I don't want to talk about it. I thought I was ready, but today I found out I don't even know how to use a diaper. We are gonna be covered in poo.   KELSO: Look, I think you're underestimating us, all right? Especially me. Now, these beautiful hands aren't just made for foreplay. Check it out.   He crosses to the nearest station and starts changing the dummy’s diaper.   KELSO (cont’d): I remember the first time I babysat for my little brother and he power-dooked all over himself, right? So I got my mom's salad tongs and pulled off his pants, and then I grabbed him by the ankles and took him outside and hosed him off. And voila.   He holds up one dummy with a perfectly set diaper.   BROOKE: Oh, Michael, it's so perfect.   KELSO: See, now, you got the brains and the maternal instincts, and I know how to wrap ass. We're gonna do this together, and we're gonna be fine.   Kitty comes up behind them, looks the dummy over.   KITTY: "Ooh, Daddy, that's just how I like it."   Kelso and Brooke both give her a long look.   KELSO: You're really starting to creep me out.   From the look on her face as her brain catches up to her words, Kitty agrees.   BUMPER   EXT. PLAYGROUND – DAY   The next day, afternoon. A small crowd of high schoolers and college kids have gathered to watch the fight. Donna and Jackie look on, half-amused and half-bemused, as Eric warms up with some air jabs and Hyde massages his shoulders.   HYDE: Forman, I'm your bud, so I'm rooting for you in this fight. But, uh... business is business, so I got 50 bucks on the little guy.   Mitch walks up, fresh from swimming, with a bag over his shoulder.   MITCH: Well, I see the chicken showed up for his beating.   ERIC: How can I be a chicken if I showed up for the fight?   MITCH: You know, it's funny, 'cause what I just heard was, (flaps his arms like a chicken) Bawk-bawk, “chicken,” bawk! “Fight,” bawk! Now come back here so we can go over the rules.   He nods to the hedges and steps behind them. Eric starts to follow when Donna takes his wrist.   DONNA: Okay, Eric, one last thing. You know when we're play-fighting and you grab my wrist and I go, "ow, ow, ow, ow?” That doesn't really hurt. Okay? So, don't do that.   ERIC: What? The Forman death grip? Man, I was really counting on that.   He follows Mitch behind the hedges.   MITCH: (hushed) What are you doing here? I don't want to fight you. I was just trying to act tough so I can get my self-respect back.   ERIC: By threatening me?   MITCH: It's okay. It's okay. I've got a way out of this that'll make us both look good. We'll just – we’ll tell everyone that we worked it out like gentlemen, and now we're the best of friends.   ERIC: What? No. Mitch, look, Donna was really nice to you, and you humiliated her. I can't let you treat people like that. Today I'm... I'm standing up for all humanity.   MITCH: Would you do it for a 1968 G.I. Joe, Desert Rat edition with the original mess kit?   ERIC: (laughs) Please. I have three of those.   Mitch pulls an action figure box from his bag.   MITCH: The French version?   Eric takes the box, looks it over.   ERIC: (awed) G.I. Jacques. It does exist.   MITCH: We got a deal?   Eric nods. He leads them back out to the playground.   ERIC: (to crowd) Well, I'm afraid there's not gonna be a fight here.   As he talks, Mitch silently does the chicken strut behind him.   ERIC (cont’d): Uh, guys, we worked out our differences, and basically, he's a really great guy... (beat) Donna, he's doing the chicken thing behind me right now. DONNA: (laughing) Yeah. He's really good at it.   MITCH: That's not the only thing I'm good at, cherry pie.   Eric rounds on Mitch, puts his fists up.   ERIC: All right, that's it. You're dead.   Mitch makes a show of dancing back on his feet, his fists up... while edging toward the end of the playground.   MITCH: Ooh! ooh! ohh! Start the car, Mom! Start the car!   He turns heel and runs.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – DAY   Later that day. Eric, Fez, Hyde, and Kelso are all crammed together on the couch. Their jaws all hang open as they stare at the TV.   TV (aud. only): Ooh, Mr. Handyman, I’m so glad you’re here. There’s so many things I need you to nail.   KELSO: I love cable.   TV (aud. only): Lucky for you, I’ve got a big hammer.   The boys all lean in closer...   Red enters from the kitchen. Fez’s hand shoots for the clicker, and he puts the channel back on the weather.   TV (aud. only): ... Temperatures in the mid...   The boys try and fail to look innocent. Red just rolls his eyes.   END.

[poppys-writing]

Box Babe - Break (Part 3)

Break: Part 1 | Part 2 // Box Babe Masterlist A/N: this is a long one!! breaking it into two different parts didn’t feel right, so buckle up and enjoy the ride - it’s a wild one!

The guard stopped once they reached a series of metal doors. He abruptly grabbed Katie’s wrist, scanning her chip in an instant. “461837,” the man repeated, looking to her. She nodded in confirmation, instantly scolding herself for choosing to answer to her ID number. The man continued on through the hall, stopping once he reached a door with her number displaying on the graphic above it. 

Her wrist was grabbed again and shoved under the scanner. The door unlocked and slid open, and Katie was pushed inside. The box was blinding white, just big enough for her to stand perfectly still with her arms to her side, legs together. Katie heard a couple beeps, then the door slid shut behind her again. 

Alone...for once, Katie was alone. In this box. She could scream, cry, holler, pray, curse, laugh, sing. She could express herself and her thoughts one last time...but she didn’t. Fear caught in her throat every attempt to speak, anticipating a convulsive shock or some form of instant death. Katie found it funny that she feared death, since it’s not like this form of life is worth living anyways. if she was given the choice of death or this, she would still choose her current situation...how puzzling. 

She couldn’t tell how long she remained in the box, but eventually it began to shake. It rattled for a few moments, then a stinging pain dulled her brain, blinding her fear and causing a whimper to escape her throat. Immediately following, a shock rattled down her spine, but this time Katie bit down on her lip to save herself. “Deliberately disobeying the baseline code of conduct will result in immediate termination of the product,” a mechanic voice informed her from behind. There’s the death threat - Katie knew it was coming. What if she did it? What if she let herself be killed? 

Before Katie could make up her mind, the box began to move. She felt her stomach drop as the box rose in elevation, coming to an abrupt stop. The box then moved to the right, then forward, then rotated and settled into place uncomfortably. 

A new voice emitted from behind her, this time the voice of the dark stranger that had spoken in the auditorium. “Now, I gladly present the prize of this auction...the stunning, natural beauty herself...461837!” The wall in front of Katie’s face slid away, revealing glass casing and a massive audience before her. She was elevated for all to see, but she could see them all too. They gawked and pointed, scrawled notes on notepads, whispered hurriedly to others around them. 

It was difficult to think during this. She felt like an animal, since she was being treated like an animal. She couldn't hear anything. The box was silent, but the world that presented itself in front of Katie was bustling and distorted. She could only assume that other Box Babes were on display beside her, since the crowds would shift in either direction, pointing at her and then another figure on either side.

Katie anticipated that the crowd would be primarily older men, but it turned out to be a fair mix of all ages and genders. She recognized actors, singers, writers, politicians, public heroes. Did they make it known to their fans and people that they bought other people? Maybe, within weeks, the world had changed, and human trafficking became the norm? Or perhaps it was already the norm, and Kali just didn’t know it. The latter seemed more probable. 

The next hours passed rather monotonously. She stood and stood and stood, knees aching, eyes growing heavy, back growing weary. The crowds grew less interested in her as time went on, moving in waves to greater things. Katie didn’t mind this at all. If nobody wanted her, then maybe they’d just kill her. Or, maybe they’d just send her back with the other girls from the warehouse - if they’re still alive. Every option seemed better than this one. 

A group approached her. An older man, probably mid 50s; a woman significantly younger than him, a man with thick brown hair that didn’t look real and was of an undistinguishable age, and finally a stout woman in the lead. Katie’s eyes locked with hers, and the stout woman shot her a sly wink before spinning around to face her clients. 

The speakers in the box activated again, nearly making Katie jump out of her skin at the sudden noise. “So, this here is 461837! This model is special because she has excellent stamina due to her athletic build,” the woman boasted. Special? 

The older man spoke up first, raising a stubby finger and then speaking before permission was granted. “This is humane, right? I know that there have been some questions about the...legality...of these uh, Box-”

“Box Babes,” the stout woman eagerly finished for him. 

“Right, Box Babes. I - well, we - just don’t want our family soiling the pristine reputation that we have worked so hard to create,” he explained. He spoke with a thick, posh British accent, so every word sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. 

Katie watched the stout woman hesitate for a moment. Maybe she’s new to this whole selling people thing, or maybe she knew that it wasn’t legal and needed to muster the strength to lie. “Yes, Mr. Dixon, I can assure you that all of our assets have legally consented. Truthfully, serving their Masters is the perfect opportunity for them to start over fresh in life. And, with the spectacular training that we provide, all of our assets are conditioned just to your liking.”

So it was the lie then. If these idiots took the time to unpack what the saleswoman was saying in the context of the situation, they’d be able to see through the fluffiness of it all. The man nodded along with the stout woman’s words, and for a moment Katie believed that he’d have follow up questions. He didn’t. “That’s good to hear, thank you! Now, another question please. When will we have custody of her?” 

Now the man with the fake hair stepped forward, putting a firm hand on the older man’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry about that, Mr. Dixon. 461837 will be in my care as I take it through the training procedure, specially tailoring her to your outlined needs,” the man’s eyes wander over to Katie’s, locking without hesitation. It was as though he was staring into her soul, looking at her past life, analyzing everything about her. There must not have been very many things to discover, since he spun back around to the clients shortly. “I estimate between 4 to 6 months of training, followed by up to an 8 week delivery period. You’ll have her by Christmas, Mr. Dixon.” 

“Thank you, Fabio!” Mr. Dixon grabbed Fabio’s thin and boney hand, shaking it in his meaty hand excessively. “You’ve never failed our family, you know. Our first Box Boy - god bless its soul - was spectacular, and I’ve heard nothing but good things from my brothers and sisters and the in-laws. How do you do it?”

“You flatter me, Mr. Dixon,” Fabio laughed heartily, although he tore his hand away from the thick grasp and shoved it into his pocket once more. He fiddled around for a moment, then turned back to face Katie. He held up a clicker, then jabbed one of the buttons. A needle suddenly shot into Katie’s neck, requiring all the strength left in her to bite back the shocking yelp. “But you know what they say - practice makes perfect.” 

Heavy. Everything suddenly felt very heavy. The sound in the box shut off, but the people outside were still talking. Slow. Everything was very slow too. Her breathing, her thinking - it was like somebody put her life in slow motion reverse, distorting everything around her. Her eyes fluttered closed, only the uncomfortably open against her will, continuing on in a weird cycle. Loose. Katie felt loose, even though she was standing upright in a box. If the box wasn’t there, then she would fall forward, unable to control her muscles. What was in that shot? 

Eventually, Katie heard the glass door slide down. She slumped forward, nearly pitching out of the box - but boney hands caught her, holding her upright. She lazily tried to pick her head up, but the boney hand shoved her face against a shoulder, holding her tight against the random body. She tried to pull away, but her muscles wouldn’t respond. What was in that shot? 

 “And you’re sure this is safe?” The stout woman began, her fuzzy voice barely registering in Katie’s head. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” the boney man, Fabio responded. So that’s who’s holding her. Fabio. She doesn’t want to be held by Fabio. Fabio is an asshole name. Katie groaned, trying to pull away from him again, but instead his free arm scooped up her legs and cradled her to his chest. For a man with boney figures, he was quite strong and had quite a broad chest. Or, maybe he was just squishing her. “She’s uncomfortable, yes, but she’s completely docile. She couldn’t hurt any of us even if she wanted to.”

“Trust me, I want to,” Katie tried to snap back at him, but all that left her mouth was babbles and mumbles. The small crowd around her cooed and awed, and Fabio squished her face tighter to his shoulder. 

Some more talking ensued, and Katie decided to opt out of listening. It would be better to try and dissociate from the situation than being aware of everything that was going on. Did every Box Babe have to go through this? This sucks. What was in that shot? 

Katie zoned back in when Mr. Dixon’s voice broke through: “Let me see her, Fabio,” he demanded. Fabio released her, putting her down on her feet but still holding her firm by the shoulders to keep her upright. Just as her chin began to tuck and droop down, firm fingers grabbed it and tore it up again. She was now face to face with Mr. Dixon. It looked as though he was only a few years older than her father - wonder where dad is now? Hopefully dead. 

“You’re right, Fabio, she really is docile!” Mr. Dixon affirmed, his pink cheeks becoming pinker with a hearty smile and laugh. He tilted her chin up, then down, then side to side. Though Katie couldn’t get her eyes to focus, she could still feel the look of him examining her, estimating her value, deciding if she was a worthy investment. “Yes, I believe we’ll take her.” Finally, she was released, and Fabio picked her up again - instead of a cradle, it was over the shoulder this time (more efficient). She was deposited back in the box, but different this time. Restraints were there that weren’t there before. Her wrists and ankles were secured into place by cuffs attached to the wall, really restricting her movement this time. Finally, Fabio shoved her head to one side, exposing her neck. Cold metal hit her skin, followed by a loud snapping noise, then the feeling of inescapable pressure. A collar. Fabio turned away without another word. 

The glass door slid up again, and the cohort of clients waved at Katie. The white wall followed next, sliding up violently as her box suddenly descended, plummeting further than it had ascended. 

[ghostofviperwrites]

Suzuki Gunz Crime Family - Chapter 12

Word Count: 2463

Warnings:  Language, violence, kidnapping

CHAPTER 12

March 1, 2003

The fog of uncertainty that had hung in the air the past few days was growing stifling.  More time in relative captivity was leading to shorter fuses, which meant more bloodshed between the family.  Girls had been brought in to sate their needs, but it only dulled the edge. These were men that liked to be out in the streets.  That thrived on violence and hiding away like cowards was not sitting well with them. At the same time, they understood that it would be stupid to make a move without all the necessary information.  

To make matters worse it had been over twenty-four hours since Taka had checked in and that made Minoru very concerned. Taka was very conscientious about reporting in, generally at least twice a day.  For him to have gone radio silent couldn’t mean anything good.  

As the hours passed with no word from Taka, the unease grew, one by one the members of Suzuki Gun gathering in Minoru’s office as they awaited word.  The fact that Taka wasn’t responding to anyone’s phone calls created an ominous atmosphere.  

Los Ingobernables de Japon Headquarters

Sliding along on his belly through the vents Taka paused for a moment peering at his hand drawn map before veering to the right and following the vent to the end.  Grabbing his monitoring equipment, he pressed it to the mental vent and put the earpiece in. If his information was correct there should be an empty storage closet directly below him which overlooked the LIJ meeting room.  And if his information held up they should be convening in a meeting in the next few minutes. Hearing nothing below Taka put his equipment away and pulled out his electric screwdriver, slowly removing the vent screws and then sliding his body down to the room.  

Catching his breath Taka wiped the sweat from his brow looking around the room until he spotted the air vent at the top of the wall. Grabbing a crate, he slid it over to the vent and stood on it peering into the room below.  Pulling out his note pad Taka began scribbling down descriptions of the four men in the room, making note of their names and putting a big star next to the one he pinned as the leader.  

Taka was so engrossed in his intel gathering he didn’t notice the shadowy figure dropping down from the vent, landing with silent grace and stalking towards him.  When the rope looped around his neck and tightened Taka panicked struggling with all his might and kicking in a futile attempt at freeing himself.  His fingers clawed at the rope as he was pulled against a muscular body his air supply quickly draining as the rope got tighter.  

“Don’t kill him Bushi!”  One of the men down below called his voice floating through the vent.  “I’d like to speak to him before we decide his fate.”  

With a disgruntled sigh Bushi loosened the rope, Taka gasping in air as he was pulled along behind the masked figure. Dragging him down the stairs Bushi lead him down to the meeting room, pressing in the code on the numeric keypad and then yanking Taka by the rope so he fell into the room in front of him.  

Taka found himself staring up at the five men who formed a half-circle in front of him, bile rising in his throat as he realized he was completely at their mercy.  He chastised himself for getting in this position, for not paying attention to his surroundings and realizing he was walking right into a trap.  He should have realized that the information came a little too easy, but he had been too eager to help his family he had gotten careless.  His family. A pang ran through him as he realized he may never see them again.  That the last thing they would remember about him was that he had failed them.  

“Taka Michinoku.”  The orange haired man said looking down at him with inquisitive eyes. Taka’s eyes widened at the use of his name, wondering just how far ahead of him these men were.  “My name is Tetsuya Naito.  These are my brothers, Hiromu Takahashi, Seiya Sanada, Bushi and Evil.”  

“I don’t give a shit who you are.”  Taka spat glaring at Bushi when he jerked on the rope again.  

“Really?  For someone who doesn’t give a shit you sure have been digging into our business lately.” Naito said with a grin.

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.” Taka snapped.  

“If we were going to kill you, you’d be dead already.”  Hiromu said with a grin that sent chills through Taka and he instinctually backed away from him.  “We’re more interested in your family.  We know you’re after guns.  We know you’ve tried to circumvent us and go directly to the source.  I’m rather impressed with your investigational abilities.”

“I think a meeting between our families would benefit both parties.  So, what we’re going to do is tie you up and take you home.  How well that goes will determine whether things get messy.” Naito said.  

Back at Minoru’s Estate

Seeing movement on the monitor to the front gate Minoru sat up sharply as he recognized Taka’s black SUV.  It sat at the gate, making no move to enter rising Minoru’s suspicions.  He sharply ordered his men to gather their weapons, his hand hovering ready over the alarm that would call the guards stationed around his estate, but instinct stopped him from pressing.  The window of the vehicle rolled down and an arm reached out pressing the buzzer on the intercom.

“Taka?”  Minoru asked hesitantly receiving a laconic chuckle in return through the speaker.

“I’m sorry Taka is a little tied up at the moment. I’m afraid he can’t come to the phone.” A male voice said amusement clear in his voice.  

“If you hurt him I will gut you.” Minoru said fiercely as his crew started filtering back in.  The Guns gathered around the desk circling the speaker as they tried to catch up.  

“I don’t think you’re in any position to threaten me.”  He said sounding completely unperturbed.  “And he’s relatively unscathed considering he was snooping where he shouldn’t be. I’m assuming that was at your command Suzuki-san?”  

Minoru took a deep breath to keep himself from lashing out purely for Taka’s sake.  The utter disrespect of this insolent asshole was pissing him off. Not to mention the guilt eating away at him for putting Taka in such a dangerous position.  

“Who are you and what the fuck do you want?” Minoru asked evenly though internally he was seething.

“My name is Naito and I am the head of Los Ingobernables.”  The man replied immediately causing shocked looks to be exchanged throughout the room. Lance and Davey twitched nervously their holds tightening on their weapons.  Los Ingobernables was the last thing they expected him to say and knowing there was at least one man in that vehicle armed with guns made them all antsy.

“Now, are we going to continue this little tete a tete through the intercom or do you want to buzz me in?”  Naito chuckled low and dark.  “Or I could use this handy little clicker to just let myself in.”  

“Minoru you can’t seriously be considering letting that asshole in here?”  Davey shouted as Minoru reached for the button.

“I am Davey.  They have Taka.  As much as an asshole this Naito is, the fact is he could have rolled right up to the front door and walked on in and we would have been clueless.  He gave us time to prepare and showed professional courtesy, so I’m inclined to grant him entrance to see what he has to say.”  

“But what if its not just him?”  Desperado asked. “We have no idea how many of them are in that car.”  

“I think we have to take that risk.”  Taichi chimed in.  “They have Taka.”  He stressed. “We’ll do whatever is necessary to get him back; safely.”  

“How do we even know he’s still alive?” Iizuka said gravely, voicing the thought none of them wanted to acknowledge. Uneasy looks were exchanged at the question no one could answer.  

Swallowing back his unease, Minoru pushed the button granting entrance and they all watched the monitors as the SUV pulled up to the front door and parked.

“Fascinating isn’t it?”  A new voice asked from behind them, all eight Guns immediately turning weapons brandished as they came face to face with a man in a well-tailored suit with a colorful latex mask and black lips leaning in the doorway leading up from the underground hideaway, pointing a gun at them.  

“What the hell?”  How did you get in here?” Zack asked.  

“That’s not really your concern.”  The man said, his black lipsticked grin spreading wide.  

“Bushi’s correct, what we do isn’t your concern.”  Again, the group spun, this time towards the front door falling back towards Minoru as they saw four more men had appeared.  

Minoru’s eyes darted to Taka who was in fact well tied up with the arm of an eccentric looking man wearing the loudest suit he had ever seen.  Davey’s lack of fashion sense had nothing on this man.  Noticing Minoru’s attention, the man smiled flipping his shoulder length hair back out of his eyes, the red tips flashing as his hair moved.   Taka flinched as the man licked up his cheek with a long tongue flashing pleading eyes at Minoru to get him out of this mess. Minoru could see old familiar panic rising in Taka’s eyes.

“Naito?” Minoru questioned turning his attention to the orangish haired man who raised his hand insolently.  “Could you have your man remove himself from Taka’s side.  His… affection, is making him uncomfortable and bringing up things he’d rather not remember.  If I see Taka become uneasy blood will spill.  We may die, but so will you.”  

Naito’s eyes narrowed as he considered Minoru then looked at the subject of Minoru’s threat before slowly nodding his head.

“Hiromu let him go.  You’re freaking him out.”  Naito said and Hiromu smiled widely but immediately complied circling to the other side of the room and leaning against the wall, taking up a tactile position while resting his hand on the gun in his waistband.  

“I believe you know the others now, this is Sanada.” Naito introduced gesturing towards the man who looked more like he belonged on the cover of GQ wearing a suit that probably cost more than Minoru’s entire closet.  “And this,” Naito waved towards the man beside Sanada dressed in all black suit with dark sunglasses and rainbow-colored hair tied back in a neat ponytail.  “Is Evil.”

“Evil,” Desperado scoffed.  “is that your real name.”  

“Desperado,” Evil sneered.  “Is that your real name?  Or do you prefer Kyosuke?”  The room fell silent Minoru and Taichi exchanging worried glances as they realized these men knew much more than they should about their family.

“Let Taka go so we can speak civilly,”  Taichi said gesturing towards the Ingos’ captive.

Minoru watched as Naito looked around the room at each of his men seemingly seeking their opinion before Evil walked over to Taka. Minoru felt his heart lurch in his chest when Evil flicked out a long switchblade and brought it to Taka’s body. He let out a sigh of relief when the big man simply sliced the ropes and stepped away letting Taka rush to Minoru’s side.

“I’m sorry MiSu,” Taka said.  “I’m so sorry.”  Minoru pulled him into a hug disregarding the threat in the room to give Taka some much needed comfort.

“Taka.  It’s not your fault.  Things go wrong sometimes. I shouldn’t have sent you out there alone” Minoru murmured. “You’re safe and that’s all that matters.”  With a final squeeze Minoru pushed Taka behind him and into Iizuka’s waiting arms.  

“Are we going to sit and discuss or are we spilling blood?”  Bushi asked Naito.

“We came here to talk Bushi.” Naito reminded his friend.  “If we wanted them dead they would be already.”  

“You’re awfully confident for someone who is outnumbered and just gave up their only leverage.” Lance said.  

“We’re not hear to argue about whose dick is bigger.” Hiromu spoke up.  “You wanted to talk guns, let’s talk guns.”

“You’re willing to discuss this with us?”  Taichi asked surprised given the rather hostile interactions so far.

“We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.”  Evil said.  “We would’ve slit your friend’s throat and dropped him on your doorstep.”

“Yes, we’re willing.”  Naito interrupted before things further descended into chaos.  “Seems both you and Chaos have a sudden interest in firearms.  Given Chaos is still spinning in circles and chasing false leads while that little shit got a hold of the source in four days intrigues us. He also got close enough to our headquarters to make us wary.  We only work with the best.  We think you are the best. There’s only one hold up.”  

“What’s that?”  Zack asked suspiciously.  

“We don’t work with anyone who isn’t family.” Naito said with a shrug.  “And none of you are family.”  

“so why are you wasting our time?”  Minoru asked sharply.  “If you have no intentions of working with us then why are you here? You knew we weren’t family before you showed up here.”  

“You are a family correct?”  Naito asked.  “Yet none of you are blood.  The five of us.”  He gestured to his group.  “Are not blood.  Yet we are family.  Is your motto not bond before blood?”  

Minoru nodded slowly before speaking.

“It’s true we are not a conventional family. But we have been family from the moment we met.  We cannot say the same for you.  You’ve already struck out at one of ours. I’m not sure that transgression can be overlooked.”

“You fired the first shot.”  Bushi said with a smirk. “So to speak.  Eight days ago you sent Taka out to obtain information on the gun source.  Trampling all over our territory.  We allowed you that.  Three nights ago you sent him directly after us.  You should consider it a sign of good faith that we didn’t kill him outright as we have so many others.”

“If you’re as good as you saw you are, how come nobody has ever fucking heard of you?” Davey spat.  

“Because we’re ghosts.” Hiromu said.  “And we intend to keep it that way.”  

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Welcome to Spookyville! Chapter 3

Notes: As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted, both of which were rather creeped out by this chapter. I feel so proud.

Not much to say this time around, but I feel I do need to assure you that just because I put a character through hell, it doesn't mean I don't love them. If anything, it shows how much I love them! (Which is why it's probably a godsend to the rest of the world that I don't date.)

The song featured is from a classic Donald cartoon!

Summary: When Minnie learns that Mickey's secretary has a crush, she decides to become Minnie the MatchMaker! How could it possibly go wr-ALL THE WAYS.

The next tale in our absurd collection takes place after one of Minnie's latest wild goose chases around Spookyville – this is not a metaphor, she created a flock of magic wild geese to chase down the Mayor. It failed, as usual, but they sure left their marks, especially on the seats of the trousers of the Mayor's poor associates. Minnie never cried over her failures too long anymore – to her, it meant something new to learn, like how the Mayor was horribly allergic to goose down. Oh well, his head would stop swelling eventually, and then he'd surely forgive her.

She flounced back to her home on the hill, stopping every now and then to brush some feathers from her dress, making small-talk with her smaller familiars. As they discussed how to improve the next plan, it was Chip who remarked, “Say, did you guys notice that Donald got distracted mid-way through the day?”

“I saw that too!” Dale replied, sitting comfortably on Minnie's shoulder. “Wasn't that the oddest thing?”

“Why, I didn't see that,” Minnie said, surprised by this new information. “I was too busy watching the Mayor... was Donald really that distracted?”

“I swear it!” Chip saluted, always loyal to his lunatic. “I think it was when we were passing the Boo-tique-”

“That's a terrible pun!” Dale groaned.

“Spookyville is 99% terrible puns! And 1% outdated Halloween memes!”

Minnie let them bicker about nonsense as she threw open her front door, terribly curious. “Boys, I need to find out what happened! This could be crucial to my next idea! The Mayor's difficult to get alone, but if I can get rid of his friends, he'll be an easy, adorable target! Now, let me see...” Once her chipmunks hopped off, she began to dig into her closet, tossing magical tools over her shoulder. “Something in here should let me see what got Donald's attention... Enchanted Elixirs, Bewitching Brews, my personalized lockpicking kit...a-ha!” Satisfied, Minnie popped back up holding a remote control in her fingers. “I got this last year for Witchmas! The Clock-Clicker! I tell it a memory, and it'll play it back!”

“That is incredibly convenient,” Chip quipped.

“And to think we almost returned it for a coffee-maker!” Dale added.

Minnie spun around, pointing the clicker in the air and pressing several buttons before uttering the right spell.

“It happened today, a little past ten,

I saw my Mayor, I know exactly when,

Right around the Boo-tique, an eye was caught,

So be a dear and just tell me what!”

The remote glowed white, before shooting out a stream of fluffy clouds that formed a television screen, replaying the day's events. There went Minnie, happily skipping down the street, while citizens and mayors alike ran screaming from the flock of untamed animals she had released to nip at his heels. “Looks like a normal day so far,” Minnie commented as she watched, waiting for the turn around the corner.

“Wait for it...” Chip held his breath, before pointing. “There, right there, pause it!”

Click! Minnie froze the screen, and then leaned in – true enough, Donald had suddenly turned his head to the left, his attention caught elsewhere, instead of on the rabid goose trying to bite down on his tail-feathers. “Why, Chip, you're right! I wonder what made him look!” A few more experimental button-presses allowed her to zoom in past the flurry of white feathers and destroyed street pavement.

Right in front of the Boo-tique, gazing at the windows and ignoring the rampant chaos behind her, stood a young lady duck with her eyes glued to the dresses inside. She was definitely a pretty thing, decked in blues of all types and tints. Silhouettes of tiny mice poked around her hat, held together by a sparkling purple band, and her hands were comfortably resting in a fluffy periwinkle muffler. Her dressed appeared to glitter and gleam with every movement she made, which is perhaps what snagged Donald's eyes in the first place, though it was the rest of her that kept him looking.

Cute as it was, if he had managed to pay more attention to the danger than the dame, he wouldn't have been run over by the geese and the witch herself seconds later, making his back into the world's weirdest runway. Minnie clapped her hands together, intrigued and giddy. “Why, this is perfect! He's got a crush on this nice girl! We should set them up!”

“That's awfully nice of you to suggest, mistress!” Chip said.

“So how are you going to ruin it, mistress?” Dale said.

“If we get them together,” Minnie explained, turning off the image, “Then Donald will spend more time with her and less time with the Mayor! That means his defenses will have a big gap, and my plans to make him mine will increase by 30%!” Warning – trying to attempt this math will make you go cross-eyed. “If there's anyone who knows anything about love, it's Minnie Mouse, Matchmaker Master!” She stuck her fingers in her mouth, whistling for her broom.

“Not that we don't doubt your abilities in the slightest,” Chip easily lied, “But how are you going to do it?”

“Yeah, mistress, your magic is all about winning over the Mayor! … Or killing him. The comedic narrative makes it kind of hard to tell what your aim is,” Dale tried to reason as best he could. “Can it really be used to make someone else fall in love?”

“I won't know unless I try!” Minnie announced, yanking her broom over once it was within reach. “You boys stay here and get rid of the goose pen, I don't think we'll be needing that anymore. Maybe love lions would do better...” She then waved a hand, that would wait another day. “For now, my aim is one Donald Duck! Wish me luck!” She sat atop her broom and flew out the window, humming merrily along the way.

The chipmunks silently agreed that someone else probably needed that luck much, much more.

~*~

At the Mayor's office, Mickey had avoided a visit to the hospital thanks to a magical epi-pen, which is the same as a regular epi-pen, except it's magical. With Minnie's threat over for the day, he could get to work. He shuffled his papers, trying to remember the day's agenda before Minnie decided to... you know, he really had no idea what that last plan would have succeeded in doing, it was perhaps best not to dwell on it. “Okay, guys, where were we?”

“It was just about lunch-time!” Goofy said as he pulled out a tray of triple-decker sandwiches from his hat. “That is if your throat still isn't swelled up... also, what's the difference between the geese that chased us and Donald's distant cousins?”

“We don't have time to deal with existential fourth-wall breaking,” Donald said after clearing his throat, flipping open his notebook. “After your lunch, you need to look over the newest forms concerning donations at the local blood bank. Then you have a meeting with the democratic skeleton society, Dem Bones - ”

“That pun's so bad we should be sued over it.”

“That's your 3'clock appointment. After that, I have to be caught in a magical pink lasso... wait.” Donald paused, not remembering when he wrote that in the schedule – because he hadn't, it was happening right now, thanks to an open window. All three heads swiveled around to see who was on the other end, and take a fair guess.

“Hiii!” Minnie chirped outside, waving the other end of the lasso about as she sat on her broom. “I just need to borrow Donald for a little while! Thanks, bye!” With a click of her heels, the broom sped off, taking Donald with it with a loud “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

Mickey blinked at the now empty space in his office. He supposed the reasonable, rational, nice thing to do would be to follow them and make sure nothing happened to his secretary. Then again, he did have a lot of paperwork to get to, and without Donald around, he wouldn't be given more of it. He took a sandwich and thought as he chewed. “You know... he is pretty powerful, I'm sure he can take care of himself. Plus, it'd be nice not to be the center of attention this chapter.”

Goofy poured a fresh cup of tea out of his hat. “And it's got nothin' to do with how popular his new show is, right?”

“What did we just say about the fourth wall?”

~*~

Donald was finally released with an unceremonious THUD about ten blocks later, landing on his head while still tied up. Minnie jumped off her broom and began to brush Donald down. “There there, we can't have you looking like rubbish for your big date.”

Donald's eyes swam, confused on several levels. “My big what? … Oh, no, if you're in love with me now, I will take out my pen and stick it in my jugular.”

“First, ew. Second, rude. Third, it's not with me, silly!” Minnie adjusted his hat, and then began to untie him. “I'm going to get you a date with that cute girl you were staring at!”

Once Donald was free, he rubbed his raw wrists before actually hearing what had been said. “What? Seriously? … What's the catch?” He pointed at her face, immediately and rightfully suspicious. “Anything involving you never ends well. The last thing I need is a Minnie-sized migraine. If you'll excuse me...” He tugged on his jacket, turning on his heel, ready to go. “I can land dates on my own just fine.”

“Oh, really?” Minnie asked, genuinely sincere. “When was the last time you were on a date?”

Donald froze in place, and the longer he took to answer, the more obvious it became what the answer was. “It... might have been... a while...” he mumbled, each word taking more effort to say than the last.  “... Oh, boy, I'm actually going to go along with this, aren't I?”

“It'll be easy, with me at your side!” Minnie skipped to his side, taking him by the arm and dragging him along. “A girl that fashionable is probably going to hit the shoe store next. It probably has a pun about soles and souls.”

“Hang on, hang on!” But no matter how hard Donald tried to use his feet as brakes, Minnie proved that her petite body had way more strength than he could ever account for. “I don't even know her name, or what type of monster she is! She could be a witch, or a mummy, or a werewolf... I need to make sure so I don't offend her!”

“Oh, those things don't matter!” Minnie put a hand above her eyes as if that would somehow help her peering prowess. “Just be yourself! Except more charming, suave, and debonair. And try to speak in a more natural voice. And stop frowning. Basically, just be anyone but yourself.” Donald had no time to be insulted when Minnie suddenly squealed, “There she is!” And then shoved Donald face-first into a patch of thorny bushes. “Here, hide so we can plan!”

“WHY IS EVERY MINUTE WITH YOU SOMEHOW FILLED WITH PAIN?!”

Minnie ducked in next to him, not getting pricked by the bushes because they knew better. “See, there she is!” She pointed ahead, and there stood the lady in question, leaving the shoe store with a pair of new purple heels on her feet, trying them out with a little tap-tap-tap on the sidewalk.

Donald managed to rip the thorns out of his face, blinking hard so he could see past the pain. “She is pretty cute... I can't even guess what type of monster she'd be. What makes you think someone that gorgeous would want a regular guy like me?” He waited. Waited. Waited.  “...This is the part where you say I'm great.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought that was a rhetorical question.” Minnie shrugged it off, and with a wave of her hands, poofed up a bouquet of red roses. “Anyway, here you go! What girl doesn't love flowers? Aside from the ones who are allergic. But love is a risk worth taking!”

Donald took the flowers, but hesitated. “These... aren't going to explode, or turn carnivorous, or spray laughing gas, or-”

“Less asking me and more asking her out!” Minnie pushed Donald out of the bush, whispering so the other girl hopefully wouldn't hear. “Just walk across the street, and introduce yourself! You can do it!”

Donald glanced back at her, then at the girl who was deciding whether to go next, cupping her chin in adorable thought. He drew a breath – maybe it really could be as simple as all that! He smoothed down his jacket, cleared his throat, and then stepped forward into the street. “Hi-”

We pause this story for a brief safety lesson that is important for all ages. Whether you live in normal society or a world infested with Halloween creatures, you should always look both ways before crossing the street. That way, you will hopefully avoid being hit with an eighteen-wheeler, which Donald did not.

Minnie patiently waited until the last gigantic bone-crushing wheel had ran itself over Donald's mangled body before hopping over and inspecting the damage. “Aw, the flowers got crushed! We better think of something else to win her over.”

“I can't feel my legs.”

“C'mon, she's on the move!” Minnie grabbed Donald by the wrist, ignoring the sickening sound of his liquefied organs as she tried to find where the young lady had gone off to. “Faint heart never won the fair lady! And fainting doesn't count!”

~*~

Later on, the reluctant duo was in the Spookyville library, having spotted the young lady flipping through some texts in a corner. Minnie and Donald poked their heads around the corner, and then Minnie began to shove book after book into Donald's arms. “Okay, plan B. The Meet Cute!”

“Dare I ask?”

“It's the standard cliche for all romance movies! You create a scenario where the love interests meet, bonding over a shared experience, like dropping your books in front of her! She'll pick them up, glance at the titles, and start a conversation! Hollywood would be bankrupt without that trope!”

Once again, this sounded like a sane idea... in theory. However, Minnie's over-eager excitement decided that Donald needed to have many, many books to make this work. Donald wound up with an armful, a stackful, an eyeful – he could no longer see in front of his face. “Please tell me that me being injured isn't going to be the running gag of this chapter. It's already the running gag of my life.”

“Don't be such a downer, and go be the cutest meet that has ever met!” Minnie lightly pushed his shoulders, forcing Donald to walk forward, the tower of books beginning to wobble. Donald gulped loudly, trying to walk very slowly so he could avoid certain doom. Every so often he tried to glance around his pile to at least make sure he was headed in the right direction, but even this proved to be difficult. Inch by inch, scoot by scoot, he didn't dare go any faster. How was he supposed to drop these books naturally, by the way...?

Minnie was running out of patience. This was taking way too long! By the time he got over there, the young lady would be finished with her book and out the door! Clearly Donald needed her assistance. She slid out her wand from her pointy hat, and flicked it towards the carpet underneath his feet. All it would take is one gentle tug, and he'd have his meet cute, followed by date cute, then wedding cute, then Mayor in handcuffs and chained in Minnie's basement cute!

Donald let out a startled “WAK!” as he felt the carpet underneath his feet move, and it was not one gentle tug at all! It was a hard pull, and he was so surprised that he threw all the books up in shock – he let out a longer “WAAAAAK!” and scrambled to catch each and every single one before they could fall, even if it meant catching by with his feet, beak, tail, hat, etc. By some miracle, he managed to retrieve every single fallen book, and sighed with relief at the avoidance of his usual fate.

This relief lasted for three seconds, as when Minnie had tugged the carpet, it had also wound up tugging under the very large, heavy bookshelves which thudded against one another until they had a domino disaster. As much as Donald would have loved to move out of the way, all of his limbs being preoccupied with books prevented him from moving a single inch. The last thing he saw was the young lady quietly leaving – and then he was smashed flat. Minnie clicked her tongue – that wasn't very cute at all! She flounced over to the pile of crushed bookshelves, knowing no librarian with any will to live would think of shushing her, and managed to find Donald's hand. “Honestly, Donald, being loud in a library isn't going to win anyone over! Let's try something else.”

“I think my lung is punctured.”

“Don't be such a crybaby.” With both of her hands holding his, she dragged out the nearly-dead Donald from underneath and headed off. Third time was the charm, and tended to be the last time a plan failed before either a serious of hilarious quick-timed montages, or a success!

~*~

Lunch had passed, and it was almost dinner-time for residents of Spookyville, which was probably why Donald's stomach was rumbling. That, or all the blood his wounded organs were spilling was starting to pile up in there. The young lady was now at the florist, thoughtfully rubbing some rose petals between her fingers as the sun was starting to set. She did not see Donald and Minnie hiding in the nearby alleyway. Minnie's latest plan involved a large wooden guitar, which she strapped to Donald's back before sliding it into his arms. “There! Now you can serenade her, and win her heart with a song!”

Donald plucked a few strings with his fingers. “But I don't know any love songs.”

“Just sing from the heart! It'll come through! True love is understood in all languages, even the tone-deaf!”

Donald was understandably reluctant to give it a try, “hmm”ing out loud as he weighed his options. Mostly he was trying to figure out how this plan would wind up with him in need of a full-body cast, and for once he couldn't connect it. This plan, dumb as it was, did seem to be harmless. “Maybe you used up all your crazy for the day. This might actually do the job!”

Minnie clapped her hands before pointing away. “Go get her, future best man at my wedding!”

The secretary took a deep breath before walking out into the dimming sunlight. Looked left – looked right – nothing to run him over, nothing to fall on top of him, and with a glance behind him, Minnie was doing nothing except shaking a pair of suddenly summoned maracas to go with the song. So far, so good! Donald looked towards the young lady, who had moved on to picking up a few daisies, and found inspiration. He lightly began to strum, making the words up as he went along.

“Daisy, Daisy, you're the one,

That gets me captivated...”

The young lady paused before turning towards the song, eyebrows raised, intrigued by what she was hearing. Donald felt his heart skip a beat, seeing those pretty eyes meet his own, and he faltered before picking up the beat again. Things were going his way! Maybe Minnie wasn't so bad after all! He owed her one!

“Every time you look at me,

I get so addlepated...”

Except you and I both know the road to a bad place is paved with good intentions, and Minnie had nothing but good intentions on her mind. The song was good – but it could be better! Like if it was louder! Yes, if it could be heard all over the world, the young lady would swoon! Or go deaf and never hear Donald's natural voice, which would also work. With a wave of her wand, the maracas vanished, and she replaced them with six-foot-tall speakers. They just needed to be plugged into the guitar – which Minnie forgot at first was not an electric guitar. Oh well, things would work out.

She clicked the plugs for the speakers together, making sure they weren't just full of electricity, but super, super, SUPER charged with electricity. She skipped over to Donald -

“And when I'm riding along the street,

Everybody that I meet...”

“Here you go, Donald!” And jabbed the plugs into his back -

“Says 'there goes that guy,

that's crazy over Daisy MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAE'!”

Which wound up sending hundreds upon thousands of electric volts throughout his body, frying his feathers and turning him into delicious roast duck, then burnt duck, then sizzling, crackling, blackened duck. He landed on his back, mouth open, perhaps far past the point of being able to scream anymore. Minnie leaned over his comatose body, pouting. “Oh, Donald, I don't think she's into heavy metal! Your music taste leaves a lot to be desired.” She tossed the plugs aside, finished with the current scheme. “Oh well. Onto the next idea!”

“NO!” Donald yelled, suddenly able to find the strength to stand up and grab Minnie by the front of her dress. “NO MORE IDEAS! Each one of your stupid ideas gets me closer to death! I just saw a bright light and I'm pretty sure I had Walt waving at me from the other side! NO MORE! I'M OUT! I'M DONE! FINISHED! KAPUT! WHATEVER WILL GET THROUGH THOSE BIG EARS OF YOURS!”

Minnie blinked back at him, his smell reminding her to toss out the old chicken fried rice in her fridge. “But you can't stop now, Donald! Your true love is waiting for you! How will she ever know how you feel if you don't go for it?”

“I CAN'T DATE HER IF I'M DEAD!”

“Now that's just quitter talk. Besides, I know necromancy!”

Donald dropped Minnie like a hot potato, convinced that she took “help him or die trying” quite literally. “Go back to stalking the Mayor! Shoot, I'll gift-wrap him for you if that'll get you to stop helping me! I don't ever want you helping me again! Not now, not ever, now get lost!”

Minnie went quiet, her face seeming to shrink. Her eyes ducked down, almost hidden by her hat, and her hands folded together. She didn't say anything right away, save for a few timid sniffles, before -

“AND YOU, NARRATOR! QUIT TRYING TO DRUM UP SYMPATHY!”

Donald was so caught up in yelling at everyone in sight, and those beyond, he nearly missed the feeling of someone tapping his shoulder. He would've yelled at them too, if that person didn't happen to be the young lady! “Pardon me,” she asked, “But what in the world is going on here? Is it my imagination, or have you two been following me all day?”

“Yes” said Minnie at the exact time Donald said “no”. Minnie then clamped Donald's beak with her hands, bright and peppy again. “My dear friend here wanted to be your boyfriend, so I've been trying to help him come up with ideas on how to win your heart! Isn't that right, Donald?” She made him nod.

The girl raised an eyebrow, turning her head towards Donald. “If that's the case... why didn't you just ask me on a date?”

Stating the simple solution had never hurt a man's soul more severely than it did for Donald right then and there. He buried his face in his hands, grumbling this and that. Minnie tilted her head back in thought – huh, maybe they could've just done that at the start. But what fun would that have been? The young lady held back a chuckle, and offered her hand to Donald. “My name's Daisy.”

Donald lowered his hands slowly in shock. He glanced at Minnie, who gave two thumbs up, before steadily taking Daisy's hand to shake it. “I'm, um... I'm Donald Duck! It's nice to meet you, Daisy.”

“Looks like my work here is done!” Minnie declared proudly, whistling for her broom.

“You literally did nothing,” Donald said under his breath.

“Invite me to the wedding so I can catch the bouquet!” Minnie cheered as she took a seat and began to ride off. Why, she did such a nice thing today! It made her feel good. She deserved a reward for all her hard work – a hot bath, a few chocolates, and then watching the Mayor through the hidden security cameras she placed all over his house.

Relieved to be rid of the nuisance at last, Donald adjusted his hat and linked arms with Daisy, happy to be with a sane woman for the first time all day. “Hey, the day's still young! Why don't we grab a bite to eat?” Maybe he could ask her what type of monster she was, after he told her he was a warlock.

“I had the exact same idea,” Daisy said with a girly giggle, but instead of sharing Donald's embrace, she calmly lifted his arm and rolled up his sleeve. “Bon appetite!” And then sunk her vampire fangs right into his flesh.

As it turned out, Donald did still have enough nerve cells alive that could allow him to scream his lungs out.

[mpmwrites]

Thirteen

So @swota and I decided that we’d Take a HAnkvin prompt and I’d write Fluff and they’d write angst for it! Prompt from @beggars-blog for a seasonally scared Gavin! Here we go! Rated T for swearing and fake gore!

He hadn't been in a haunted house since he was a teenager. It wasn't that he was scared. He just figured, haunted houses were just college kids that took a temp job and dressed up in creepy costumes. All they did was jump out and scream at people or make startling noises and that wasn't really scary. Anyone would be scared if you startled them with unnecessarily loud noises. He wasn't gonna shell out the twenty bucks to walk through a dark building with cheesy props for fifteen minutes. Especially when, more often than not, you could even know what's coming based on some inevitable teenage blonde chick screaming her head off at every single scare.

So when Hank said they were going, obviously he gave a slow nod and a "Yeah, sounds fun." over his latte. Because it was Hank, and he wasn't about to sound like a cynical little bitch about some charity event the state police were doing. Cut to dinner on the patio at Chipotle when Gavin finally started to think about the evening's plans. Hank had not only invited him out, which wasn't really something they did, but had invited him to a function at others at the precinct would be going to.

Call him cliché, but going on a date to a haunted house was kind of a cliché move to get your date to be all over you.

Maybe he was thinking too far into it. It wasn't like he could back out anyway. Hank wanted to go and he had no real reason not to other than the fact that he'd probably leave in a bad mood of get thrown out for decking some asshole that screamed a little too close to him. Hank would find that funny, he thought.

That was not what happened.

The whole thing wasn't bad. It was a special cops-only night, so it was most people that he had at least the one thing in common with. Socializing before hand with old buddies of Hank's didn't hurt too much; they arrived about thirty minutes before they were allowed to line up and enter. Some teenager handed him an information pamphlet that he glanced over. Warnings about strobe effects and loud noises, don't touch the actors and they won't touch you, etc. On the back there was a promotional image titled "Triskaidekaphobia: Fear of the Number 13" with a list of fears below it. Hospitals, Death, Zombies, Torture, Blood, Clowns, Dolls, Darkness, Nightmares, Snakes, Spiders, Closed Spaces, Heights.

So that was what he was in for; it didn't seem so bad on paper. Maybe he wasn't so keen on hospitals, but it wasn't like he was afraid of them. Sure, dolls and clowns were creepy but, once again, what's an underpaid teenager yelling in his face really gonna accomplish? Closed spaces he'd never really liked, but it's not like they were gonna shove him in a closet and leave him there. As far as heights went, who wasn't afraid of heights? Were they gonna try to dangle him off a cliff? He was doubtful at best. He told Hank so.

"I don't know, it's for charity. I think for the special olympics." Hank shrugged, "Fowler made me come when I started becoming a shut-in…" Hank attempted without going into detail, "Now I'm just expected. It's usually not too bad. See some old friends, do some good in the world, scream a couple of times without looking crazy." It was nearing their turn to enter. Hank shook hands warmly with the officer wearing a police academy hoodie that reflected Hank's own and clicker-counting the participants. Their hands separated, but Hank's quietly found Gavin's and led the younger man inside. Gavin probably turned the shade of the blood on the walls of the first room. Because, Hank had not only taken him to an event with colleagues, but had bought him dinner first and was now nonchalantly holding his hand in front of all of them. Gavin wasn't thick, he knew that Hank wasn't ashamed of him, it was just that he didn't really think it was anyone's business. They stayed strictly in the friendly and platonic realms when outside of their homes, and they were both more than okay with that.

Until that night, apparently.

Unless, Gavin figured, unless Hank thought he might be scared. Maybe the whole event was more than it put off; after all, Hank had attended for the past several years. Maybe it was just dark inside and he thought they might get separated easily. Gavin didn't comment on the contact, just pulled on a façade of relative indifference

The walls of the first room had dimly-lit pastel wallpaper with generic looking sconces that flickered irregularly, and in the center of the room was a secondhand hospital bed with a young woman on it, her intestines artificially falling out of her abdomen as she writhed and screamed. Hank offered an amused smile as they and a few other patrons followed the path around the outside of the room. Suddenly, from a dark corner a chainsaw whirred to life noisily and a surgeon lurched toward the guests threateningly. Gavin scrambled slightly at the perceived threat, but the surgeon pulled away from the crowd and swing the chainsaw around to the girl and brought it down near the foot of the bed. The machine hit the mattress, but left no impact as they filed out of the room.

"Not scary, huh?" Hank offered, not letting go of the detective.

"Yeah, tell me that someone coming at you with a tool that could maim you wouldn't make you jump." Gavin snarked back. They entered the next room, which was more of a wide hallway, where a body lay in a casket against a wall of flowers. The body suddenly reaching for them was expected; the screaming actor hidden among the flowers they did not. Gavin cursed and suddenly was clinging to Hank's arm, which made Hank laugh heartily. Gavin glared at him. "Screw you."

"There's nothing wrong with being scared. That's the point, Reed."

"Anybody would be scared if someone jumped at them and screamed in their face when they weren't expecting it."He fumed, Hank lacing their fingers again as they stepped into the next room: a suburban home with the dad laying dead-eyed on the couch. His face was covered in fake blood. From behind a curtain, mom lurched toward him and started shambling toward him, dropping to her knees and fake feasting on his arm. "Haven't we moved past the zombie fad, like, 20 years ago?" Gavin rolled his eyes. At least the room passed without him embarrassing himself further. He pulled his hand away from Hank's, "I don't need you to hold my hand, I'm not scared." he insisted icily.

"Gavin, I wasn't…" Hank didn't pursue the subject, just offered a apologetic half smile. "Sorry." He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and lead on. Through the torture and blood rooms they stayed silent, unphased by the fake gore surrounding them. The masks of clowns covered the walls of the sixth room, fog machines making it difficult to navigate combined with the rainbow sheets hanging around. it only took the first squeaky horn right behind Gavin's ear to have him stumbling toward Hank. He couldn't see much of anything, but was aware that there was a vague path through the room, and he could hear footsteps of the clowns attempting to sneak up around them with those god-awful horns. He grabbed a fistful of the back of Hank's shirt to guide him through, the oddly sweet scent of the artificial fog making him want to cough it out of his lungs. As they neared the exit, he let go of the fabric and straightened, shaking his head at being so tense.

And then the fucking clown was in front of his face, separating him from Hank with its distorted mask and blood red smile around sharp fake teeth. He froze on the spot, just short of running straight into the actor. He stared them down, the knowledge that it was another cop under there helping to ease his anxiety. The clown slowly lifted the horn and honked it right over his shoulder, cackling maniacally before bouncing away. He breathed a sigh of relief and hastened out the door to catch up with Hank.

The dolls in the next room also lined the walls, but there was a chair in the middle of the blacklit room. The ventriloquist dummies eyes and cracks on the porcelain heads of baby dolls glowed eerily as an actress sat in the chair, taking with one of the dummies. She wasn't talking for the dummy though, the voice was coming from a speaker that echoed around the room. It wasn't so bad, until both the girl and the dummy snapped their heads up unnaturally to stare at them, slowly revolving their heads to watch as they walked by. It was creepy, and Gavin scowled at them before looking away.

Through the darkness room (which was just a winding hallway with literally no light) they had to run their hand along the wall so they didn't get lost, as per a speaker giving directions in a raspy whispered voice. It wasn't awful until the pathway sloped downward and then became soft, causing the person behind Gavin to trip and knocking him into Hank face first. The nightmare room wasn't much, just projections of shadows in the woods and a man pretending to have an awful night's sleep. Beneath the bed another actor dressed as a monster would shake the bed to startle people as they walked by. The hall that held snakes and spiders were mostly just uncomfortable; clichéd fake noises playing as they walked though hanging rubber snakes and cobwebs, featuring a giant furry spider attached to one of the walls at the end.

A young woman grimaced and squealed behind Gavin as they navigated around the spider and then turned a corner. He tried to recall what was supposed to come next, because for the most part he was just ready to be done. It wasn't long before he found out. There was a loud, tinny nose over the sound of a motor running. It sounded like a engine powered vacuum. Before them was a hallway that had air-filled chambers on the sides, so that people had to push through the tunnel airbags. Gavin stopped in his tracks.

Closed Spaces.

People behind them were making vague noises of dissent at not moving, and Hank frowned at Gavin in confusion. Gavin seemed to overcome his initial wariness and stepped out of the way, letting people walk past him. When Hank realized he wasn't coming he turned back to the younger officer's side. "What, did you leave the oven on or something?" he joked.

"Hank I can't walk through that." He admitted quietly, not meeting the other's gaze. Hanks brows furrowed quickly at the younger's tone.

"Gav, I don't think there's another way to go. You have to, or we go all the way back." He offered, looking around for help. Gavin looked back at the tunnel and swallowed.

It wasn't a closet. He just had to walk straight through and he'd come out the other side. Some irrational voice inside of him insisted that it could be a dead end and he'd be stuck in there.

"I'll walk with you okay? You can close your eyes if it helps." Hank insisted helplessly. His tone mustered Gavin's courage, his pride not wanting Hank's effort to go to waste and wanting to prove that he wasn't that kid that got abused in foster care as a grown teenager. Hank pulled off his own hoodie and put it over Gavin's head, letting Gavin negotiate the arms while he arranged the hood low over Gavin's eyes. "It's just air and a couple of bed sheets. Can't hurt you." He walked in front of Gavin, holding on to Gavin's wrist to guide him, and then they entered. The gentle but insistent pressure on Gavin's shoulders was enough that he couldn't pretend to be anywhere else, and he walked so close to Hank that he kicked at Hank's heels with each step. The smell of Hank on the sweater he was nearly drowning in made him think of the comforter on Hank's bed and he tried to think of that instead of this hell he felt like he was in. He was going to come out the other side. Hank would make sure of it.

He craved fresh air but was rewarded with none as Hank dragged him away from the polyester walls of the tunnel. Gavin let his back hit the black painted ply board wall of the maze and tried to focus on the semi-open space around him. They were still inside the building. Hank stood in front of him, shielding Gavin from view of the other cops passing by. "You alright?" he offered. Gavin rubbed his eyes to alleviate some of the stress just before his name was called,

"The hell are you doing here, Reed?" It was Tina and her husband, holding hands and smiling.

"Literally hell." He groaned, blinking at her. She looked confused for a moment, then looked to the tunnel behind her,

"Oh god I'm so sorry. I would have warned you." She cooed, rubbing his shoulder. "You did it though."

"I did." He offered warily. "With Hank." He pushed himself away from the wall and pushed the sleeves of the sweater up to his elbows. Tina looked between them and offered an indulgent smile for Gavin, then a look of gratitude to Hank. Hank shrugged it off. The moment grew awkward in its silence, so Tina broke the tense air with a smile,

"Well, one room left I guess. Seeya after? We should get drinks."

"A drink sounds awesome." Gavin conceded, smiling as the married couple went on ahead. Gavin joined the slowly moving line toward the last room, the door with a curtain covering it, letting out a bout of cool light as each person passed though. Hank queued behind him and let his hands rest on Gavin's waist

"I didn't think you were scared. I just wanted to hold your hand." He admitted in an offhand kind of way, like it wasn't important. Gavin craned his neck to look up at Hank,

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Hank nodded, "If I knew you were gonna hate it I wouldn't have made you come. We could've watched a movie instead."

"You didn't make me come." Gavin shrugged. "You asked me on a date and I agreed." Their turn was fast approaching.

"I never called it a date." Hank reminded him as Gavin pulled the sheet open to go inside. No wonder people were moving so slowly. The small room was only eight or so feet deep, but the path across was a one foot wide plank that people were balancing on. Fear of Heights. As Gavin waited his turn to cross, he looked around the room. It was an illusion of a deep gap, albeit a convincing one. The "plank" they were to walk across wobbled just slightly with each weight shift, but it wasn't quite over a long fall. On either side of the plank there were mirrors reflecting an image from the ceiling that was made to look like a hole. While he was quite aware that it was an illusion, he still found it difficult to feel secure on the pathway.

Hank entered behind him and grabbed for his hand, "What the fuck?" he barked, looking straight down. It was Hank's turn to be afraid, his fear preventing him from noticing the illusion.

"It's not real." Gavin reminded him, holding Hank's hand, "Look it's just an illusion. You can't fall." Still, Hank hesitated before moving toward the younger. Gavin watched him totter on the platform, unsure with each step. It seemed silly to him, but he'd also nearly just had a panic attack while Hank watched. He reached his other hand, "It's only two more steps." he assured as Hank watched his feet warily. "You gonna let a couple of mirrors show you up?" He taunted with a smirk. Finally, they reached the end and stepped back out into the late afternoon sun.

Gavin breathed in deep as the state officers thanked them for coming. He was suddenly very aware that he was still draped in Hank's hoodie as they ambled back toward the area in front of the attraction in search of Tina. Gavin made to pull out of it as they walked and tried to pass it back over to Hank. "You can hold on to it." Hank offered, and Gavin stopped in his tracks.

"Why?" He questioned, still holding out the Garment.

"If you want to wear it, you can hang on to it. I don't mind seeing it on you. You wear it at home often enough." He pushed it back toward the brunette.

"Hank Anderson, this isn't an old movie. You can't ask me to go steady just by letting me wear your letterman jacket." Gavin defied with a shit-eating grin.

"You think I want to go steady with you?" Hank asked, and, yeah, at that point they were both a little too stubborn to have a serious conversation about this.

"I mean, you did hold my hand and take me on a date to a place I was pretty much guaranteed to be pretty close and personal." Gavin batted his eyelashes for extra sarcasm, but Hank didn't see, because he was kissing Gavin, right there, in front of at least fifty other police officers. Many of them that they knew personally. Good god, come Monday everyone would know.

So make sure you go check out @swota‘s companion piece here!

My prompt box is always open!