Feeling Furry
I wanted to be different, so I said "Hey! I think I'll write a Little Red Riding Hood parody with Final Fantasy characters, because NO ONE has ever done that before!"
(pats self on back) Way to go, asshole.
And so, I present to you, me, and your mother (who just might be reading this behind your back, kids), a Little Red Riding Hood parody using Final Fantasy characters, BECAUSE I'M JUST SO ORIGINAL.
Disclaimer: TEE HEE No.
Once upon a time, in a land known only as Ivalice, there was a boy.
This boy was not a boy as much as he was seventeen, almost a legal man, but he had the temper of a five-year-old and the imagination of one too.
He lived in what we like to call the "Projects" of Rabanastre, which was a nice way of saying the Slums. In all respect, even trailer homes looked better than the "Projects", and that was saying something about the trailer homes. Which were pulled by giant chickens. And had no doors. And normally were used less for living and more for shopping.
This boy, he lived a hard-knock life. He lived in da Hood. He didn't go to school. His brother was clearly a homosexual and very obviously a manwhore, with the way he dressed on a daily basis. The boy was, in all truthfulness, not gay, but his brother's fashion sense kind of rubbed off on him.
The boy's name? Vaan.
His last name? I have no freaking idea.
And now, the story starts with our dear Vaan sitting in front of the television, playing his SlumStation 4 (which was basically all the rich folk's discarded game systems taped together. Vaan thought he was genius for thinking of it. Reks, however, did not) and coming closer and closer to the final boss on his SS4 game (Ninja Warriors Fantasy 300094. It's a very popular game; I'm surprised you haven't heard of it.)
"Victory is near...I can almost taste it!" Vaan muttered from his obsessive concentration on the television screen.
"VAAN!" his brother called in the background. Vaan rolled his eyes.
"Yes?!" he yelled back.
"I need you to run an errand for me!" the older one shouted back.
Vaan groaned. "But I was about to beat the game, Reks!" he shrieked.
"Beat it later! It's not going anywhere!"
"But I wanna beat it noooooow!"
"Shut up and get ready to leave!"
"Why are we yelling so loudly? We're in rooms next to each other!!"
"Good question!"
And they both shut up, their throats raw from all that unnecessary screaming. Vaan paused his beloved game and got up, cracking his joints in the meantime. He then walked to the other room, which was the kitchen, and awaited his next orders.
Reks smiled at him. "Here," he said, placing a picnic basket in his hands. "Take this to your Grandma."
Vaan scowled. "She can take care of herself. So she can get her own damn cookies!" he snapped.
His brother looked disapprovingly at him. "You know and I know that she is over fifty years old. She's very unstable right now, Vaan. Very unstable."
"I don't want to!"
"Well, you're going to anyway, since I said so."
"You aren't my mother!" But then Vaan made a double-take at Reks' normal clothing (which consisted of a man-bra, a skirt, and bitch-boots). "Well, at least I think you aren't."
The platinum-haired man rolled his eyes. "Don't be funny, Vaan. Now, take this to your Grammy, okay?"
"…Fine." And he grumpily went to the door.
"Oh, wait Vaan!" Reks called. Vaan looked behind him, only to see his brother holding some horrendously red thing in his hands.
"…What is that?" he asked warily.
Reks grinned. "Oh, they said it was going to rain today, so I'm giving you this hooded fire truck red poncho for safety!" he explained.
Vaan blinked. "Rain? Reks, you might've forgotten this, but we just so happen to live in the middle of the desert. Rain is, like, not an option."
"Remember Giza plains?"
And that was all Vaan needed to grab the poncho and leave. Soon he was in the dark, dank, creepy looking streets of the "Projects", holding the poncho in disgust.
"Red is such a tacky color when associated with my clothes…" he muttered, slipping it on and hoping no one notices him.
Unfortunately, a red as bright as that is doomed to be like a neon light in the night.
"Hey Vaan, where'd you get the tacky hood from?" his best friend, Penelo, asked.
"I can't talk right now; I just need to get to my stupid Grandma's house to drop off this picnic basket." Vaan replied curtly.
Penelo smiled. "Want me to come along?"
"My grandma might slaughter you, no offense. She's a very grumpy old lady."
Penelo looked disheartened. "Oh. Well, I'll see you later then!" she waved Vaan off happily.
Once the platinum-blond haired boy was at least twenty feet away, she set out on following him.
She sure did love an adventure!
-----Feeling…Furry?-----
Vaan snorted as he walked down the bare desert, mocking Reks with every step.
"Oh Vaan, it's going to rain! IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT! Take this tacky-assed poncho that I probably got from one of my homosexual lovers and decided to lay off on you for safety!" he mimicked angrily. Soon he saw Giza plains in the distance, looking as happy and sunshine-filled and it usually did.
A bunny hopped by Vaan, which he sneered at because those bunnies were pure evil. Soon more bunnies hopped over the blue dotted border than separated the desert from the plains.
"Wonder what's going on," he asked himself.
The moment he crossed that border, it started raining.
"…Well damn, I guess he had a point." Vaan mumbled as he trudged through the rain slicked field.
After three hours of wandering in the rain, he finally reached the entrance to Ozmone Jungle, and he was pretty damn happy.
"I HATE YOU GRANDMA!" he shrieked in anger, stomping through the jungle's starting point, and waking up some rather vicious kitties. Five panthers popped through the trees, growling and snarling and almost falling over because of their giant heads. Vaan realized he had no weapons on him except a butter knife and decided that it was better than nothing.
Pulling out the butter knife, he wielded it like all the gangsters did back in the "Projects" and thrust it in the air towards the big cats.
"Stay back, kitties!" he threatened. "I've got a knife!"
The panthers looked cautious.
"He's got a knife," one said in a clear English accent. "I do believe we may not win this one."
"Indeed," another replied. "I say, he doesn't look in the least bit stable."
"He may have rabies," said the third. "We should be extremely careful in this situation."
A fourth nodded its head. "Indubitably, you are beyond right, George."
The fifth backed away. "Move slowly, gov'ners, no sudden movements or he might become unreasonable," it said in a quiet voice. Soon, all the panthers were stalking slowly out of Vaan's peripheral vision, eying him warily.
Vaan stared at his butter knife in amazement. If he could fight off panthers with if, then just think of all the other possibilities!
"Well, well, well," a deep voice chuckled. "What do we have here? A little red riding hood, perhaps?"
Vaan held out his knife, walking backwards into the jungle.
He bumped into a hard chest, and he turned around, pointing the butter knife at the attacker's neck.
"…You can't possibly be serious," the tall, furry looking person said in amusement. Vaan sighed and put the knife back in the basket, knowing that the butter knife was too good to be true.
A tall, auburn-furred wolf-thing stood in front of him, wearing noblemen clothing and his fur all neatly cut, including his long tail. Two pointy auburn wolf-like ears stood on the top of his head, and his sideburns were very there. And very hairy. And his face was very leery.
He snatched the picnic basket out of Vaan's hands, his claws hooking onto the cheap cloth and pulling it up.
"Mmm, my favorites!" the wolf exclaimed. "Oh, you shouldn't have!"
Vaan snatched the basket back, much to the wolf's surprise.
"It's okay then, because I didn't." And the teenager stomped away. The wolf looked somewhat sad, but settled on following the cute human.
"So, what's your name?" the wolf asked seductively.
"Vaan," the boy replied curtly.
"Where're you going?"
"To my grandma's."
"Ooo, mind if I tag along?"
"Yes. Yes I do. Now go away, PLEASE."
Shot down, the wolf pouted. Such a cute human, but such a bad attitude and fashion sense.
"I'm Balthier," he tried again.
Vaan actually stopped this time, and he looked at Balthier with a shocked face.
"Really?! Your name is Balthier?! WOW! Would you like a cookie, or something?" Vaan snapped sarcastically.
Balthier sniffed in disdain. "I'd rather you cut down on the sarcasm, as I am liable to eat you, for the record." The wolf retorted.
"Then eat me. Then I won't have to go to my grandma's house anymore!" Vaan muttered.
Balthier cocked an eyebrow. "What is you're grandma's name and what in the world is she doing deep in the jungle?" he asked slowly.
"She's a crazy lady, I know that much. Her name is Fran, and she's fifty-something. I stopped caring a long time ago."
Balthier's eyes widened. "Fran, you say?"
"I don't like to repeat myself to animals, Wolfie."
"I can't say I appreciate that, but I've got to go, sweetcakes. I'll check you out later, so watch out for me!" And the wolf hopped through the trees.
Vaan wondered subconsciously what the fuck a wolf was doing in a jungle in the first place, but kept walking anyway.
In the background, Penelo watched the situation in awe.
She hadn't had such an exciting adventure in such a long time!
----Feeling…Furry?----
Balthier knocked on the door to his best mate's cottage impatiently. He tapped his furry foot on the ground and checked his watch as though he were running out of time.
"Who stands outside my door?" a quiet voice sounded from the other side of the door.
Balthier rolled his eyes. "It's me Fran, Balthier!"
The door immediately opened and Balthier was pulled into the cottage quickly before the door shut again.
"What brings you to my home, Balthier?" a tall, young-looking woman with two rabbit ears asked. "I've told you once; I've told you thousands of times. I shan't allow you to eat me, or I shall kicketh your ass."
Balthier chuckled. "No, Fran my dear, it is not that this time. Why did you never tell me you had a grandson?"
Fran looked disturbed. "Oh dear. Is that boy on his way here now?"
The wolf nodded. "Yes, Fran old-girl, and he's much more delicious than the picnic basket he holds on his way here!" he licked his chops in joy.
Fran sighed. "What do you want, Balthier?" she asked in a final tone.
"I want to hide you in a closet while I take one of your outfits and pretend to be you so I can seduce the boy and convince him that I'm worth the trouble." Balthier explained.
The rabbit blinked slowly. "…Are you aware the he shall be under the impression that you are his grandmother?"
Balthier paused. "Well, I'll fix that later, now get in a closet!"
Fran sighed and walked to her broom closet, which was actually a portal to the retirement home she escaped from. And people wondered why she didn't like her grandchildren.
"The clothes are in the dresser by my bed," she called out before she closed the door. "Please, do not violate my grandson."
Balthier chuckled as he slipped on one of Fran's body exposing outfits. "I can't promise you that, m'dear!" He placed a helmet on his head that didn't even cover his very-not-rabbit-like ears and slipped into bed.
Soon, a knocking was heard from the front door.
Balthier made his voice higher. "Cometh in, my dear, sweet, sexy, desert-tanned grandson!" he called.
Vaan entered the house cautiously. "Grandma, is that you?" he asked.
"Of course it is, you silly boy! Who else wouldeth be hereth?"
"A creepy pedophile wolf with a creepy smile and Yogi-tendencies."
"Well, I can assure you that a sexy beast like that isn't anywhere in thiseth houseth!"
Vaan walked into the bedroom, and his breath hitched.
"Wow Grandma…you look, uh, different."
"You think so-eth?" Balthier fluttered his eyelids.
"Yeah, your face is paler…"
"The better to relate to you with!"
"Your voice is deeper…"
"The better to growl at you with."
"Your teeth are sharper!"
"The better to nip at your tongue….when I tuck you into bed and kiss your cheek, of course!"
"Your eyes are narrower!"
"The better to look at your sweet face with."
"Your ears are much smaller!"
"The better to listen to your sweet voice with."
Vaan launched forward and grabbed his grandmother's crotch through the blanket.
"And you've got a penis, grandma!"
"The better to… well, I don't think I need to finish that sentence, now do I?"
Vaan looked horrified. "Grandma, what happened to you?"
Balthier rolled his eyes. "Nothing happened, my dear Vaan! In fact, I'm not even your grandmother; I'm the main antagonist of this story, the leading man even!"
Vaan blinked. "And this means what again?"
"I'm the Big Bad Wolf, Vaan!"
Suddenly, a large man crashed through the window, donned in stereotypical hunters clothes and holding an axe.
"I, Hunter Basch fon Rosenburg, declare YOU, Balthier the Big Bad Wolf, a pedophile and I shall put you to justice!" the hunter boasted.
Balthier snorted. "Uh huh. Tell me, how does this normally work?" he asked sarcastically.
Basch laughed. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to show you, now won't I?"
And he raised his axe.
But the barrel of a gun was pointed in his face before he could get anywhere.
Basch looked freaked out. "Nobody told me the dog was packing heat!" he complained.
Penelo jumped through the window behind him. "I'm sorry mister, I didn't know either!" she cried. And then she turned to Vaan, who was waving at her excitedly. "Hi Vaan!"
"Hey Penelo!" the boy replied.
Balthier smirked at the hunter. "How do you expect for me to not have a gun? It's a jungle out there, in case you didn't notice."
Vaan nodded in agreement. "He does have a point."
Basch sighed. "I guess I can't win against a gun. I'll be leaving now."
BAM!
But he couldn't leave, because Grandma Fran had silently dropkicked him to the floor.
Vaan smiled. "Grandma, did you actually come to save me?" he asked hopefully.
Fran kicked at the hunter's body on the ground. "Don't ever attempt to touch my best friend again, or your ass shalt be kicketh once more!" she threatened. Vaan immediately scowled.
Basch groaned and Balthier grinned.
"Thanks for all the help, m'dear. Now, I'm just going to take your grandson for a little ride, and you might get him back, depending on his performance.
The platinum-blond teen was outraged. "Hey! I didn't agree on going anywhere with you, you mangy wolf!" he snarled.
Balthier smirked, exposing his very sharp, very human-eatable teeth.
"I hate to say it, but you don't exactly have much of a choice in the matter, now do you, love?"
And so, Vaan was kidnapped by Balthier, where they did weird, gay things together. Vaan never beat his video game, and Balthier never got those cookies. Basch was in a coma for a few weeks, but he's A-OK now, so don't worry. Penelo hung out with the British panthers, who actually appreciated the finer things in life, such as tea and crumpets.
It also seems that Reks really was gay, as he came out the closet with his boyfriend (a Basch-lookalike named Gabranth). Nobody was surprised.
And that, my dearest friends, is the end of the Boy Who Cried Wolf.
THE END!
This was written in the time span of an hour.
I also forgot half the stuff from Little Red Riding Hood, so I had to, uh, improvise.
Yeah, improvise. That's a nice word for COMPLETELY KILL CHILDREN'S FAIRY TALES.
I R SHAMED D: