"Yuber?" Sera said, surprised to find herself sounding concerned. "Have you been feeling all right lately? It's been almost an hour since you brought us something maimed."

"Sera, do I intimidate you?"

"Uhhh...."

"On a scale of one to ten, how fearsome am I?"

"I don't know... a nine point five, I guess."

"NINE POINT FIVE?" Yuber buried his face in his hands. "Holy Lucifer, it's worse than I thought. I'm loosing my ferocity."

"Hey, on the Richter scale, I give you at least an eight."

"I'll never get over this."

"Since when were you concerned about being fearsome?"

"I was playing with some kids a little while ago, and by playing, I mean killing, and they were, like, not cowering in fear. They were even laughing."

Sera sighed. "Kids can be so cruel."

"Sera, you're good at changing yourself to suit others needs. How can I improve myself and be even more fearsome?"

Sera clapped her hands together. "I know! I have an idea!"

"You have an idea? Whoa, Sera, put your head between your knees and I'll get Albert to talk you through this. Don't worry, it'll go away if we work quickly..."

"No, no. I mean, I know how we can change your image."

"Yes? Yes?"

"Instead of being all mean to everybody, why don't you try to be nice? People will like you."

"You're nice and people don't like you."

"No, I'm submissive. There's a difference."

"I dunno..."

"Oh, come on, Yuber. I'll teach you everything I know about being nice."

"But you just said you were submissive, not nice."

"Don't correct me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hugo brought the joint to his lips. "It smells kind of strong..."

"Oh, don't be so puerile." Caesar rolled his eyes at how much of an amateur Hugo was at smoking pot. God, didn't that sucker ever watch MTV?

Hugo didn't like the way Caesar said it, but then again, he didn't exactly know what puerile meant. He really needed to invest in a dictionary, or maybe a first grade education. "Okay."

"HUGO!!!!"

Hugo dropped the joint, spun around, and saw his mother fuming behind him.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Lucia's eye twitched.

"Lord, I hope so."

Caesar feigned disappointment. "I was trying to talk him out of it, Chief Lucia. But he was going crazy and stuff. Hugo's got it bad, man. You should really check him into rehab or something."

Hugo didn't have enough brainpower to point out that, at that very moment, Caesar was sucking on a bong. "But he was the one who gave me the..."

"Don't be a liar, Hugo, just admit you were wrong." Caesar was trying out his new British accent. And damn, did it sound convincing. In fact, he could've said that Kobe Bryant didn't rape that girl because he was a UNIC and everyone would've believed him.

"I'm not joking!" Hugo exclaimed. "He--"

"Not another word, Hugo, or I'll spank the tar out of you young man," Lucia warned. "You're going to rehab."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So... bored..." Yuber was beginning to realize why nice people died so willingly. Baking cookies with Sera was hardly as much fun as squirting battery acid in Albert's face.

"It's not boring, it's constructive!" Sera began humming. And we can only imagine how migraine inducing that must sound. "Think of how happy these cookies will make Master Luc."

"I can hear it now: 'Cookies? Are you trying to say I'm fat? There's no way around it; I'll have to kill myself. It's the only option.'"

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"That your Master Luc's a psycho."

"Hello, pot? This is the kettle. You're black."

"Are you calling me a hypocrite?"

"Yes. I'm also calling you a psycho."

"Well, that dress makes your thighs look fat."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That you're tubby, Tubby."

"Excuse me?"

"The Pillsbury Doughboy ain't got nothing on you."

"Yeah, well Pesmerga was hotter."

Yuber paused. "You went too far that time, Sera."

"I know. I'm sorry. I lost the niceness, but it's back now."

"So, what's the next step?"

"Now we have to make you look nice. If we start with your hair. . ."

"No-o way, sister. You can take away my will to murder, but I'll never let you lay a chubby finger on my hair."

"Chubby finger? You know who has excellent fingers? Pesmerga."

When Yuber talks smack, Sera has to talk smack right back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who would've known Budehuc had a rehab center?

Well, they do. So I don't want any more questions coming out of you.

The circle of people was made up of Hugo, Caesar, Geddoe, Jacques, Queen, Joker, and Ace. You would think that between being set on fire, being blown up, and having an aneurysm, Joker, Ace and Queen would be dead, but you're wrong. Ged isn't that lucky.

"So, they got you too, Caesar?" Hugo asked, too stupid and simple to hold a grudge.

"Nah. I'm the councilor."

"Are you kidding me? You're the councilor? You're going to work *us* through our problems?"

Caesar was growing exasperated. He was in the middle of rolling a new big fattie, and it was too difficult to concentrate when he was being prodded with idiotic question after idiotic question. "Yes, Hugo, I am your councilor. Now, let's go around in a circle and discuss why we're here."

Queen went first. "I'm Queen and I get kind of angry sometimes."

"Kind of?" Ace mocked. Queen dislocated his shoulder.

"My name is Joker and I'm an alcoholic."

"I'm Ace and I'm prone to morbid suspicion. I'm also in great pain right now."

". . . I'm Jacques and . . . yeah . . ."

"I'm Ged. That's my problem."

"I'm Hugo."

Caesar raised one of his eyebrows. "And?"

"And I'm here because Caesar's a jackass and talked me into smoking."

"Now, Hugo, don't blame me. I'm not the one here because of my dependency on drugs," Caesar told him, taking a long drag on his joint. "Name the substance you were caught abusing."

"I didn't even smoke it!"

"So, you put it in but you didn't inhale?"

"Yeah."

"A likely story." Caesar wrote something down on his notepad. What a pathetic druggie, Caesar mused, tearing himself out a piece of paper and rolling a new joint. "So, Queen, why do you think you're so angry all of the time?"

"Because everybody sucks. Except me."

"I see. And Ace? Why do you get jealous of others?"

"Because Geddoe's a hottie."

"..."

"I probably shouldn't have said that."

Ged closed his eye. "If there is a God, he'll kill me now."

"...Yes. Joker, why are you an alcoholic?"

"Have you seen the people I work with?"

"Fair enough. Jacques." Caesar frowned, noticing that he was asleep in his chair. "Just keep doing what you're doing, man."

Before Caesar got a chance to ask, Ged answered, "Life is one gi- normous kick in the ass..."

"Ooh, I love this speech," Ace whispered to Queen, who gave him a black eye for interrupting her train of thought.

When Geddoe was finished, and everybody felt severely depressed about how Ged had put their own looming fates into perspective, Caesar finally asked Hugo.

"I was caught holding--"

"Smoking," Caesar corrected.

"Smoking pot."

"So, why did you feel the need to smoke it? Dark childhood? Or are you just a bad ass punk?"

"I didn't smoke it."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because life is one gi-normous kick in the ass."

Geddoe, oppose to see some brat stealing his catch phrase, shot a bolt of lightning at Hugo.

Perhaps the ship hasn't totally sailed then on Geddoe's chances of becoming a pirate. Heh. Ship has sailed. Pirate. Pun. That's quite funny.

At that very moment, while keeling over in pain, Hugo looked at his bracelet (yes, he wore a bracelet) that said WWTFCD: What Would The Flame Champion Do? Well, for starters, he'd probably burn everybody in the room, because he didn't want any witnesses who had seen him bested by the nice-but-not-Flame-Champion-nice Thunder Rune, then pound the hell out of their ashes. Then, he'd go to the bar and get drunk. Really drunk.

But it was just as easy to punch Caesar for no apparent reason.

So, while Hugo was punching Caesar and Caesar was being too stoned to feel any pain, Queen went over to break up (or add to. Whichever came first) the fight. Ace, once again feeling ignored because Queen was a bitch, sprang from his chair.

"Steal my spot light, will you!?"

Forgetting completely about breaking up and/or adding to the fight, Queen took her chair and hit Ace over the head with it.

"Uh, boss," Joker started as Ace hit Queen with his lousy, can't-do-shit sai. "Aren't you gonna do anything?"

"Meh."

You can't argue with that logic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Borus, put your bloody clothes back on!"

"What? You don't think I'm pretty?"

Percival went stiff. And not in the way you'd think.

Sure, seeing his friend naked would normally would ruin the prospect of boner until he was fifty, but who'd known Borus was so . . . well- endowed. "Uhhh, yeah, sure, you're lovely."

"Then kiss me."

"Get the hell away!"

"Come on, Percy, I see the way you're looking at me."

"If only I had a icicle to gouge my eyes out with. . ."

"But your eyes are so sexy."

"..."

"Would you like me to step away from you?"

"Yes, please."

"It's just you and me in this room."

"Which is why I want you to step away."

"I love it when you play hard to get."

"Exclamation point!"

"Percival."

"You know, Borus, I think now would be a very good time to discuss the importance of celibacy."

"Oh, come on."

"No."

"I'll let you be on top."

"Deal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where in the blue hell are Yuber and Sera?" Albert huffed. "They've never been gone for so long. . . alone. . . together. Whoa. I'm gonna be an uncle, aren't I?"

Luc drummed his fingers against his seat. "Time passes very slowly when you're suicidal."

"I can only imagine."

"I don't want to wait for them any longer. There's no use, they're never going to come. We might as well kill ourselves."

Albert voted against it. He wasn't going to give Yuber the satisfaction of knowing that he'd helped cause his death. "Let's give them five more minutes."

"I'm telling you, it's hopeless. Besides, I'm the leader and if I say we kill ourselves, we kill ourselves."

"All right-y then."

"So we're in agreement?"

"No."

"Well, I'm killing myself anyway."

"Wait--here they are."

Yuber and Sera walked into the room, bearing cookies. If you could call them that. "Here you are, Master Luc."

Luc turned away, disgusted. "You think I can eat when I have the incomprehensibly distant future to worry about? Sera, you're so unaware, it kills me."

"Oh, if only it did . . ." Albert said under his breath.

"But, Master, they're chocolate chip."

"Ah." Luc picked one up reluctantly, took a tiny bite of it, and spit it out. "What kind of excuse for a cookie is this?" he questioned, examining the charred cookie.

"Oh well, they were really good before Yuber decided he wanted to make them crunchier."

Yuber glared at her defensively. "Throwing some gasoline into the oven seemed like a good idea. And you weren't too quick to stop me."

"That's because when I did, you shoved me inside the oven!"

"Oh yeah. Heh."

Albert leered at Sera meaningfully. "Props to Yuber for having an original idea."

"What do you mean by that?"

"That you can't think for yourself."

"Oh, enough!" Luc sank back in his chair. "You're giving me a headache. And do I really want to walk all the way to the cabinet to get an Aspirin? No. I'm putting away the Prozac once and for all--what I need is some rat poison."

"Oh, Master!" Sera began to cry. "Don't say such things!"

"You're one of the top ten reasons I want to die."

Sera kept sobbing.

Yuber looked first at her and then at Luc. "Great job, Luc, making a girl cry."

"Yuber, shut up."

"No, I really mean it. Great job."

Sera raised her head. "Yuber! What did I teach you?"

Yuber groaned. "Aw man, do I have to do it in front of Albert?" he complained, because, boy, Albert would never let him live it down, and Yuber really didn't want to have to kill him.

Wow. He was really reforming.

Albert's eyes were full of semi-curiosity. "Please, Yuber, we're all interested."

"Please, Miss Sera, don't cry," Yuber flatly told her, his voice robot-like. But that's okay. Robots are cool. "May I give you a foot massage?"

"That would be wonderful," Sera accepted, kicking off her tacky shoes, which is really weird because the bad guys in the game usually have the best fashion sense.

Yuber whispered to Albert, "I think she digs me."

Luc heard what he said. "I've lost a fan girl to Yuber? I'll never be able to recover from this. I must die."

Albert struck a really cool pose, like a Calvin Klein model, only not so gay. And, much to our disappointment, he wasn't wearing tighty whities, either.

Surprisingly, that's not a totally bad mental picture.

Just give me a moment while I erupt into giggles.

Okay, I'm over that now.

Anyway, Albert was growing pretty impatient with all of this. Why didn't Luc just kill himself already? And why wasn't Yuber doing anything violent slash murderous? And why did Sera get a foot massage and not him?

Yuber's love for killing and unjust foot rubs, these are the stark questions.

"And later, Yuber, I'm cutting your hair," Sera decided. Yuber almost snapped her foot in half when he heard the words.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"Uh-huh."

The only thing Yuber hated more than peace vigils was when Sera got cocky. Screw being nice; he was going to kick her organic white ass and then go to a Chucky Cheese's and beat up some little kids. 'Real cool place to be a kid'. Not anymore, sucker.

"It's my hair, damn it, and if you have a problem with that, eat me."

Sera blinked. "Wow, that was harsh, Yuber. Kind of hot, too."

Yuber grinned. "You think?"

"Totally," Luc agreed.

Yuber pounded Luc into the stone floor for hitting on him, then turned back to Sera. "I think I've learned my lesson. Never let people change you, because in the end, nice guys finish last and serial killers get all the hot babes."

"You think I'm a hot babe?"

"Holy Hell, of course not. But I saw Chris checking me out in the last battle."

"No." Albert shook his head. "She was checking me out."

"Nope. She was totally looking at me."

"Actually," Sera started. "If I'm correct, she was checking out Master Luc."

"Looks like Sera's got some competition!" Yuber taunted. Boy, did he love hurting people. It felt even better now that he'd gone almost three hours without killing something.

"Did I say Master Luc? I meant Sasarai."

"Oh great," Luc grumbled. "Not only does Sasarai have a meaning in life, he also gets Chris."

"But Master, you have me..."

"Yuber, please shoot me with projectile acid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you have a library card, cause I'm checking you out."

Nash looked at Lilly in utter horror. Did she just hit on him? Normally, if it had estrogen, Nash would suck it up, lay it down, get it up, and go for it, but... Lilly?

He's horny, not desperate.

If you find yourself asking, 'What's so bad about Lilly?', you might just want to step back and re-evaluate your life. First off, she's a dumbass. Secondly, she raped Hugo out of 2000 potch in Chapter 2 because she's a filthy liar who only paid him half of what she promised. Third, the hat. It's just creepy, man.

That hat is a disgrace to everything pirate-related. It pains me to mention pirates, the epiphany of coolness, and Lilly's hat, the epiphany of everything wrong in our society, in the same sentence, but it must be done.

Now, Nash is no idiot. He could already tell that Lilly was a bitch just by that hideous odium of a hat. He also knew that there was no way she was cool enough to be a pirate, because pirates don't smile, nor do they use cheesy pick-up lines.

'Atta boy.

As he crept away as quietly as possible, Lilly leapt on top of him, her eyes suddenly turning red. Or maybe that was her hair. Anyway, something went red and Nash screamed as the shameless whore pulled herself on top of him, leering like a scary redhead with a pilgrim hat.

"NO!" he shouted, kicking and screaming as she grated (see Chapter One for synopsis) his leg. "OH GOD, HELP ME!"

He blacked out for a moment as he felt his hands grip around something long and hard, instantly coming to the conclusion that Lilly was a man. Surprise, surprise.

Another scream sounded, but to his shock, it wasn't his own--it was hers. Oh shit. She must have unzipped my fly.

As Nash's vision cleared, horror swept over his chiseled features. On the ground was Lilly Pendragon, deader than a doornail. Or as equally dead as a doornail that had just been torn apart by two swords.

Looking down at his hands, he gasped yet again, the familiar swords registering with him. "Grosser Fluss? What the fuck are you doing here?"

I don't have the time or creativity to think up a feasible explanation, so we'll just go with something simple and believable.

"I fell out of the sky," the swords replied.

"I see. Why?"

"To save you."

"No, really. Why?"

"I have a proposition."

"And?"

The sword blushed redder than the blood on it's tip. "There'll be plenty of time for that later, boy. For now, I need you to do me a favor."

Nash smirked at the sword. "You're blushing. Is it a girl?"

"...Shut up."

"It is! Who?"

"Oh, sure. You shut me away for fifteen years and all of a sudden we're all buddy-buddy?"

"I only did it cause you made me kill my friends."

"...Oh yeah. That was fun. But anyway, it isn't a girl. It's more of an... it."

"It?"

The swords sighed dreamily. "The Star Dragon Stud--I mean Sword. I need you to woo it with violence for me... I mean, us. I mean--"

"I know what you mean. And no."

"No?" the swords repeated. "NO? YOU DON'T HAVE THAT SORT OF POWER, HUMAN!!!!!"

And once again, Nash blacked out.

~~~

The room was silent and hushed (talk about redundant), flanked by a single candle as Guillame finished making love to his fiance.

Pushing him away with shaky hands, she moaned. "You're a bastard."

Guillame smiled wide, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "That's an awfully big word for a girl of six."

For a moment, it was quiet. Too quiet.

Cue Jaws music.

Shifting his eyes back and forth, Guillame bit his lower lip as his girlfriend shrieked, "Get your finger out of there!"

Cue Jaws music getting substantially louder as Guillame tries to deny his increasing inclination that something is about to go horribly wrong.

"Twelve o'clock--time for your juice box."

Cue--ahem; the dark figure soared from his hiding place, swords brandished and teeth barred as he loomed over the two figures with slanted eyes.

"OH MY GOD!" Guillame shrieked. "Don't kill me, kill her!"

"Must...kill..."

"Yes, yes, you must kill her!"

"Must kill fat pedophile bastard who chases around little girls until main character must take time out of his journey to stop his perverted ass from raping kids..."

"...Rats." Looking up, Guillame managed a tiny smile, his whole face lapsing into wrinkles. Age didn't just not treat him kindly; it beat him with the ugly stick and went medieval on his ass. "Could I ask you something, Mr. Masked Murderer Who's Identity Shall Not Be Revealed To Reader For Suspense Purposes?"

Not-Nash leaned closer in. "Yes?"

Grabbing his assailant by his collar, Guillame kissed the unwilling non-spy. "Tee-hee."

Gasping in horror, UnLatkje went all ninja and flipped backwards, removing the pedophile's head in one good, clean cut. He stood over the body, a smirk twitching at his lips. "Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee..." add infinitum.

When he stopped laughing, the swords dropped from the man's grip as once again, Nash "Sexy Man" Clovis returned, staring at his hands in that way people do in the movies when they've just committed their first murder. He winced when he saw the carpet soaked with Guillame's blood.

"But on the plus side, it's not mine." Optimistic as ever, Nash turned on his heel.

"Oh, no you don't," the swords hissed.

Nash glared at the swords in defiance, though on the inside couldn't find it in himself to turn away. But was he going to spend the rest of his life being pushed around by swords who urged him to kill those he held dearest?

Of course he was!

~~~
~~~

I assume Grosser Fluss can't talk. But guess what? No one cares except you, so shut up you whiny fuck.

To be continued... again.