Remember that comment Triela made to Mimi Machiavelli in Volume Four? "I don't know anything about current music or what's on TV?" Well, I've gone and written an entire story about it. This one's dedicated to all my friends in the Gunslinger Girl fandom; particularly those who receive specific mention – people, get ready for hilarity in spades.

Gunslinger Girl is the brainchild of Yu Aida. If you don't know who Liesel and Altheus are, please read A Day in the Life of a Gunslinger Girl (written by yours truly) before proceeding – it's a must. The 'centered closing punchline' technique is the trademark of my comrade Colonel Marksman, and is used with permission.

ZENith of Zaniness

nell'inizio

Ominous-looking storm clouds bathed the mountaintops as the jet-black helicopter hurtled between the snow-capped peaks, rotor blades bludgeoning the thin mountain air into submission as it hurdled saddles and swept through passes. On board, twelve familiar figures – four fratello teams and four support personnel – sat facing inward on red nylon seats along the sides of the cabin, wedged amid a welter of equipment.

The upcoming mission was going to be rough, and our heroes' demeanor reflected it –their faces were lined and tense, and the fingers of more than a few twitched edgily on the triggers of their weapons. Desperate to ease the tension, Angelica cleared her cherub throat and launched into a fitting song just as the boiling black vapor above them began to crackle with electricity and Thor's hammer started pounding out its awesome rhythm.

"I see a little silhouetto of a man... Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?"

Cue more thunderbolts and lightning...

"Very, very frightening!" chorused everyone, eager to clear the air.

"Galileo!" trilled Henrietta.

"Galileo!" chimed in Liesel.

"Galileo!" added Alphoso.

"Aristotle!" sang Amadeo.

"Aristotle?" All present fixed the former Marine with questioning – almost annoyed – glances.

"Get with the program, 'Deo," griped Georgio.

"Sorry, everyone," said Amadeo, smiling sadly. "Singing this song's become too traumatic for me ever since Freddie Mercury passed on."

Triela's jaw dropped and her blue eyes widened in genuine horror. "Freddie Mercury's dead?" she near-screamed, utterly aghast.

Another thunderclap, and the compartment fell completely silent. Henrietta and Angie were holding their respective supervisors in fright. It was plain to see that Alphonso had edged away from Triela, whose face was still frozen in an expression of shock. Georgio had gone one better, and seemed to have fled the scene – the sounds of a scuffle could be heard coming from the cockpit. Liesel was rubbing Triela's wrists and whispering whatever words of comfort she could come up with, her feline green eyes locked witheringly on Amadeo as he glanced out at the scene from beneath his seat.

"What did I do?" he whimpered helplessly.

Altheus turned to Hillshire, deeply concerned. The former Interpol detective was covering his face with his hands in utter mortification.

"You really must take her out more, Victor."