Well, this is by far the longest (and strangest) chapter I've ever written. This is intended to be wacky-you have been warned~

Klaus and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Really Bad Day

'Drink Me' Bottles, Unbirthday Cakes, and Wonderland...

Sirenoid, like any faithful Bakugan, always made sure to wake her master at sunrise. This morning was no exception, her melodious voice promptly rousing Klaus from a most restful sleep. He stifled an undignified yawn and stretched, draping his legs over the edge of his regal four-poster bed. He stood, thanking his Bakugan and taking fluid steps toward his bathroom. Unfortunately, he had a rather abrupt face-to-face meeting with the plush carpeted floor. He got to his feet, brushed himself off, and picked up the culprit, Mr. Snuggles. He tossed the teddy bear onto his bed, quickly forgiving his favorite stuffed animal.

Klaus went through his morning rituals, eventually reaching for his hair dryer. He plugged the device into an outlet, flicking the 'on' switch. It buzzed momentarily before stalling and promptly exploding, singing a lock of his chic silver hair. He huffed and made his way downstairs for the breakfast of champions, trying to disregard the incident. He rushed to finish his cereal resulting in a piece getting lodged in his throat. He coughed it up with a growl and picked up his briefcase to head toward the office.

Sirenoid, sensing the tension, remained silent throughout the ride and as Klaus dropped her off at her desk. He made a move to walk away, but he stopped short of another step, addressing her wearily.

"Sirenoid, file a lawsuit against Mr. Snuggles. Oh, and schedule an appointment with my hair stylist."

She only stared at him for a moment. "Mr. Snuggles, Klaus?" she repeated.

"Yes. Mr. Snuggles."

Without another word, Klaus left toward his office. His briefcase was clutched in his left hand. He placed a well-manicured hand on the door knob, pausing when a shadow caught his eye through the glass door. He dismissed it as a figment of an overworked brain and pushed the door open only to be greeted by giggles.

He gaped in disbelief at the scene before him, wishing he'd chosen to stay in bed that morning.

Dan was stretched out across the CEO's desk tossing various writing utensils up at the ceiling in an attempt to get them stuck there. Ace reclined in his patent leather chair tossing his Sirenoid-shaped paperweight up and down, catching it deftly in his hands. They glanced lazily at him, not shifting from their positions.

"What are you doing?" Klaus choked out, shocked. Who had the gall to be create such mayhem, especially on a day like this?

"...Being bad!" Dan shouted exuberantly. Ace rolled his eyes, getting up and picking up a snack from Klaus' kitchenette.

"I'm just here for the food," he muttered, clearly displeased with the quality of the apple in his hands and returning to the chair.

"Get out!" Klaus commanded tiredly, unable to muster much venom into his tone.

"Jeez, fine, Mr. Crank von Grouchy," Dan yielded, shooting one last pencil into the ceiling for a grand total of twenty-one.

"Out of my chair."

The seafoam-haired Brawler sighed and got up, snagging another fruit before leaving.

Klaus reluctantly sat in the vacated chair, hating how warm it was thanks to Ace's derriere. He much preferred sitting in a cold chair.

He popped open his briefcase, pulling out notes for his ten o'clock meeting with the supervisors of his departments. He allowed his mind to wander in the sales figures, marketing ideas, and stock values, a welcome relief from the insanity of his morning. He turned to his computer, surprised it was already on, and pulled up his checklist of points of business for the meeting. Klaus searched for his new design plans–he'd left them on his desk the previous day, he was sure–but didn't find them. He didn't really need them for the meeting, he surmised, and printed his checklist.

The machine beside his computer whirred to life, coughing out the papers into his awaiting hands. He glanced them over, the automatic processing of information soothing his frayed nerves, and he hesitantly pressed his nose to the papers, inhaling the scent of freshly printed characters and routine.

Klaus immersed himself in last quarter's report, finding trends and calculations, so much so that by the time his meeting rolled around he'd almost completely forgotten about Mr. Snuggles' betrayal. To his pleasure, his staff was already assembled in the conference room. He seated himself at the head of the Round Table–he considered his business royal, and therefore, it was an appropriate name–and the CEO gazed around the room, not liking the somber looks on his employees' faces.

"Good morning," he began, adjusting his tie. "I trust that the report is completed and ready to be assessed."

The employees shifted uneasily in their seats, dreading to give their boss the quarterly report. Most of them noticed he was in a sour mood, and last time he'd been angry it hadn't boded well for a few employees.

"Who'll tell him?" a few whispered, many pointing surreptitiously at John, the new guy.

"Who has it?" Klaus asked after a few minutes of silence, jaw clenched.

"Bill had it, sir," one employee announced.

"Where is he?"

"He didn't show up today, but–"

"You're fired," Klaus decided instantly.

No one else dared speak up and Klaus sighed, feeling very old for having to resort to extreme measures. "If no one gives me the report, I'm firing three more of you...Who has it?"

John tried to make himself small in his chair, but the man sitting next to him raised John's arm and Klaus called him out.

"John, is it?"

The other man nodded slightly.

"Do you have my report?" he asked calmly.

John nodded again, stiffly stepping around his chair and going to Klaus with the report. The CEO took it swiftly, bright green eyes progressively narrowing as they made their way down the page.

The employees shared apprehensive looks. Oh, no...

"What is this?" Klaus spat, turning to the assembled workers. "A thirty-five percent drop in sales! John, how dare you give this rubbish to me? You're fired."

"Mr. Von Hertzon, our competitors have recently launched a new campaign that has increased their sales by fifteen percent in the first week alone. We haven't been able to match their profits."

"What?" Klaus hissed. "Haven't been able to match prof–"

He stopped mid-shout as his human assistant came in and placed a tea cup in front of him. He waited until she'd left the room, and cleared his throat. "Where was I? Oh, yes. Haven't been able to match profits?" he shouted, slamming his fist down on the table and knocking over his tea cup on his lap.

Some employees snickered, but he quickly silenced them with a glare and went to his office to change into the spare pants he kept in his desk drawer.

"The tea again?" Sirenoid asked as he walked out, to which he responded with a tight nod.

The conference room was alive with murmurs until he regained his seat.

"Now," Klaus began. "Explain to me why the idea I presented to you hasn't brought in the expected revenue. The Wonderland-themed hotel in the East Quadrant of the city should have easily trumped Vestal Housing Inc.'s sales. It's exactly what consumers want–magic, excitement, flair–so why are we losing stock holders by the minute? Oh, and John, you're fired again."

"But sir, somehow Vestal Housing also launched a Wonderland-themed hotel, and it's generating immense profits–"

"John!" Klaus yelled. "You're fired for a third time."

"I have a wife and three kids, sir," he pleaded.

"Fourth time."

"But–"

"Talking back to the CEO? Fifth firing."

"Sir–"

"You're insulting me! Sixth firing."

John, seeing the futility in his attempts sighed loudly.

"That gets you fired a seventh time, Buster," Klaus summarized. "Now I won't have to fire anyone for three days."

The rest of the employees burst into cheers until Klaus bellowed, "But that doesn't mean I won't!"

He promptly dismissed the meeting, eyeing the last straggler, John.

"Sir?" John said as he approached Klaus and handed him a bundle of papers. "Here are the new ideas my design team came up with. I thought you'd like them."

Klaus flipped through the pages, nodding to himself as he read things he liked. All in all, it was a sound idea. "John, you're hired again."

The man beamed, bowing as he retreated. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down!"

"Yes, yes. Don't make me fire you again."

-X-

It doesn't make any sense, Klaus thought to himself, pacing in his office. How in the world did his competitor get the plans he'd spent months working on in absolute secrecy? He and Sirenoid had never openly discussed them, and he made sure to keep his office locked when he wasn't in it. No spies working for the other company should have been able to access them, unless...

Unless the spies had been right in front of him!

-X-

"It's two billion or no deal," Dan insisted, shooting Ace a cool glance, a manila envelope in his grasp.

The executives across from them furrowed their brows, shrewdly examining the contract before them.

"Can we afford that?"

"It'll all pay off in the end, right?"

"We could finally put Klaus Industries out of business!"

They quietly discussed the pros and cons of a business arrangement with two messy-haired boys for a few minutes more before finally conceding. All of them signed the contract Dan had created himself.

Dan allowed himself a wide, knowing smile. "Now will you boys be paying in cash or credit?"

-X-

Klaus resisted the urge to fire John again, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing in deeply. How could he have been betrayed in such a way? After all he'd sacrificed for them? He placed his hands on his desk to steady himself, feeling the strain of dealing with people with less class than him. They obviously enjoyed seeing him suffer at the hands of a migraine. Tough times like these made Klaus crave him favorite drink: bacon tea.

He entered his kitchenette, quickly locating the heavily fortified cabinet that held his precious drink. As a precaution–bacon tea was very hard to come by and he could only import so much of it at a time–he kept it under lock and key, lock and key being two deadbolts, a key lock, and a girly-man chain lock (let it be said that he only had the chain lock installed because Sirenoid has insisted).Those were relatively easy to get through, and he pulled open the cabinet door to reveal a keypad safe. He punched in the ridiculously long number and twisted the knob. Another safe awaited him, this time with a combination lock. It took him a few minutes, but on his second try he'd succeeded in opening the second safe.

Klaus smiled to himself, preparing a cup of tea for himself as fast as he could while still looking dignified. He inhaled the scent, noting how oddly leafy it smelled but disregarding it, and sipped. He spat it out just as quickly, his tongue scalded and his taste buds humiliated. This was most definitely not bacon tea! He checked the container and read the words he hated most: All Natural Green Tea.

"Sirenoid!"

"Yes, Master Klaus?" His Bakugan appeared calm in his doorway, not noticing his apparent distress.

"Sirenoid, what happened to my bacon tea stores? Instead I have this filth, this All Natural Green Tea. Did you authorize anyone's entrance?"

"No, Master. A janitor came by to perform his rounds, but no one else has entered since you arrived. Would you like me to order more?"

He sighed, feeling guilty for doubting Sirenoid's ability to guard his office. "No, no, it's fine. I think I'll go for a walk. I feel like stepping on some little people."

-X-

A shady, mustachioed janitor stalked down the halls of Klaus Industries pushing a tarp-covered cart. He had to hurry or else he might get caught. Getting past Sirenoid hadn't been too much of a challenge, but he couldn't afford to take anymore chances. He sped up, causing a box of bacon tea to tumble out from under his tarp. He stuffed it back under the cover and continued, amber eyes darting from side to side.

He spotted an employee coming his way and tried to act natural, slowing his pace and whistling a merry tune. The janitor was about to turn the corner when the employee hailed him, holding up a piece of black cardboard.

"Sir, it seems you've dropped your mustache," the man remarked, handing it back to the janitor.

"Oh, um, thanks," the janitor barked out, holding the mustache to his face with a hand and pushing his cart with the other.

"He dropped his mustache...?" he heard the man ask himself. "Eh."

The janitor now ran down the hallway, turning abruptly into the janitor's closet and shutting the door behind him. He flicked on the overhead light and stared at the two people already inside.

"Okay, it's done. Now where's my half a billion?" Shun asked, peeling off his uniform and eyeing the pair warily.

"Excellent work, buddy. We'll have Klaus buying back the rights to those plans in no time."

-X-

The silver-haired man maintained a leisurely pace as he left his office building, taking slow, deliberate breaths and enjoying the warmth of the day. He admitted to himself that perhaps he looked out of place, considering how well dressed he was and how aristocratically he carried himself. That aside, Klaus knew that this walk would most assuredly brighten his mood.

"Sir!" a man called out, stepping in Klaus' path and shoving a small glass bottle in his face. "Are you feeling tired or as if you're just too big for the regular mundane tasks? Well, have I got the solution for you! Introducing the latest line of "Drink Me" Bottles, perfect for those moments when you just don't have the solution for tiny jobs! Can I interest you in a free sample?"

"No." Klaus responded, stepping around the man.

The man would not be deterred, however, and quickly cut into Klaus' path again. "Well, how about a year's supply of "Drink Me" Bottles all for the low price of–"

"I said, no," he repeated, aggravated.

"What if I thrown in this free collector's item with–"

"No!" Klaus yelled. "For the last time, I don't want your product!"

"Are you sure?" the salesman questioned eagerly.

Klaus narrowed his eyes, taking the bottle from the man and shattering it on the ground with a flick of his wrist. "I'm sure. Go put this garbage in someone else."

Now, such public displays of anger were uncommon for Klaus, but he felt oddly satisfied with his actions and didn't even consider how it must've looked to bystanders. Rejuvenated, he strolled past the street vendor he usually bought his wienerschnitzel from, acknowledging the man with a nod.

"Sir, here is a free wienerschnitzel for being such a frequent customer." The apron-clad man stood there, wienerschnitzel in his outstretched hand.

Klaus recoiled, anger welling up inside of him. "Do I look like a charity case to you? I am perfectly capable of buying my own wienerschnitzel. I am a responsible adult, and I won't have street vendors try to win me over with free food."

"But–"

Klaus didn't want to listen to another word the man said and tossed the entire wienerschnitzel to the ground. The vendor gaped at him. Klaus walked on.

He chanced upon the local farmer's market a few blocks later, spotting his assistant sorting haphazardly through the produce. He greeted her warmly and offered to buy her whatever she desired, the effects of his relaxing walk kicking in. She looked at him, flustered at his kindness, but declined his offer, instead offering her cellular phone.

"It's Sirenoid, sir," she choked out timidly.

What was wrong with everyone today? "Clearly, it isn't," Klaus retorted, enraged. "This is a cell phone, not Sirenoid. I will not tolerate my employees insulting my intelligence."

He took the phone and shattered it.

Klaus grew weary of so many incompetent people and wandered into the park. A smile graced his refined features as he laid eyes upon a jovial birthday party. He drew closer, skirting around the edges of the premises, watching children laugh and play. One particular child–a blonde little boy–stopped and gave him a toothy smile.

"Whose birthday is it today, little one?" Klaus asked kindly.

"No one's!" the boy shouted happily. "We're celebrating because it's no one's birthday. I'll get you a piece of cake."

The boy walked away, leaving Klaus behind, dazed and confused.

"Here you go, Mister." The boy handed him the cake. "Happy Unbirthday!"

Bewildered by this obvious discrepancy, Klaus took the sugary confection and quickly disposed of it...on the ground.

The boy gazed at him in fear.

"Do you expect me to eat this when it's no one's birthday? What's wrong with you people?" Klaus started toward the cake, throwing it down, too, and screaming, "Happy Unbirthday to the ground!"

The CEO stormed away, irate. Granted, destroying the cake wasn't the most regal action to take, but it did get the job done. He began to worry about the joy he was experiencing from throwing things to the ground. It couldn't have been normal. Everywhere he looked, he saw items to be thrown. There were vases inside display cases, twenty-five cent candy machines, and people–all so throw-able.

Klaus shook his head of such thoughts, attributing his bad mood to his morning at the office. Yes, that's right, today would end and his urge would be gone. What he now needed was a calm atmosphere with dignified taste, and his feet led him to the finest restaurant in town.

Skillful live violinists delivered a soothing melody to his ear as soon as he entered. The Victorian decor met his approving eye, and the staff treated him with the utmost courtesy while they seated and presented a menu to him. He perused the entrees in earnest, only becoming distracted when a familiar voice sounded across the room.

"...so two peanuts walk into a bar...One is a salted! Get it?" Dan laughed out.

His two friends groaned, each mentally debating how to get him to shut up the fastest while pondering their steaks.

Klaus' blood boiled, seeing the perpetrators of the crime that had ruined his day and quite possibly, his life. Without thinking about it, he marched across the restaurant, eyes trained on the three boys. He hands reacted in a flash, gripping the underside of the table and lifting it with all his strength until it lay toppled upside down on the floor.

"Security!" Dan called, backing away from a fuming Klaus.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Klaus lunged at him, his attack stopping midway when a pair of burly arms surrounded him. "Let me go! This is an outrage! Do you know who I am?"

"Better luck next time, Klaus," Dan chided. "Except don't assault us in our restaurant."

His green eyes widened, his feet scraping across the floor as the tall security guard dragged him. "Your restaurant?" he gasped, freeing himself from his grasp with an "Unhand me, sir."

Ace nodded smugly, Shun stood around looking bored, and Dan, well, he tried to salvage his steak from the floor.

"This isn't over!"

If only he'd been wrong.

-X-

At his wit's end, Klaus Von Hertzon burst through the office doors, steaming. Employee's dove out of his way, holding stacks of paper over their heads to use as protection against the wrath of the boss. They didn't really care to know why he was upset; self-preservation definitely ranked higher on their lists than caring for their capricious employer.

Sirenoid spotted him immediately and recognized the telltale signs of his distress-the frizzy hair, the rumpled suit, the predatory gleam in his eyes. She hadn't worried too much when he'd refused to speak with her on the phone, but seeing his condition worsened from this morning made her rethink any earlier thoughts. Sirenoid needed to communicate some crucial information to him, though she hesitated upon seeing him fire five employees in a row.

"Master," she began calmly as he passed her desk. "Master Klaus, I believe there is something you should know."

"You mean besides the fact that I've been cheated out of my idea and publicly humiliated more times than is necessary in a lifetime, Sirenoid?" he growled–or as he would say, purred savagely.

She would not be intimidated. "Master, unfortunately, Mr. Snuggles has hired the shrewdest lawyers money can buy, and–"

"What?" he interrupted quietly. "Mr. Snuggles has sued against me." It wasn't a question, as he'd wanted it to be.

"Yes, Master."

Klaus let out a strangled cry and numbly choked out, "I'll be in my office."

-X-

He walked along a dirt path, the tip of his Italian leather shoes scuffed and his mind delirious. The path was framed by rustic trees that seemed to be looming closer and closer to him with every step down the dark tunnel. The bite of the wind struck his face, and he instinctively cradled his cheek.

He continued to walk for what seemed like an eternity, the road perpetually unwinding before him.

Then...a voice.

"Drink me..." it cooed softly with the lilt of a child's voice.

Klaus spun around, startled, stopping.

He heard it again, closer, but this time did not pause in his stride.

Suddenly, the sound was closing in on his from all directions.

Drink me, drink me, drink me.

Klaus burst into a sprint, pumping his arms to get away faster. He exerted himself to his limit, but he wasn't moving anywhere.

"Drink me."

He slowed to a stop, turning mechanically to face the voice...and finding a lone bottle on the path behind him. He wandered closer, crouching down. It looked like a regular old bottle, only filled with some suspicious-looking liquid. He placed a finger on it, and the bottle turned on its own, watery wide-eyes facing him.

Wait, a minute, bottles didn't have eyes!

"Drink me," it demanded forcefully, the sound seemingly erupting from the bottle.

Klaus stumbled backwards, landing on his rear.

"Drink me," it repeated, advancing.

He scrambled away from it, jumping to his feet and dashing away. The bottle didn't come after him, but multiplied until hundreds, if not thousands, were chasing him.

"Drink me, drink me," they chanted in unison.

Klaus ran, but they had him cornered. There was no way out.

"Drink me. Drink me."

Then the sea of abominations parted, and Klaus sensed an escape.

A final, giant bottle approached him.

"Drink me!" it roared while Klaus screamed.

-X-

Three devious boys watched from the shadows as Klaus twitched occasionally. His head was cradled between his arms on his desk, papers scattered across the floor. He snored quietly, and Dan giggled at the sight of the aristocrat being less than perfect.

"Drink me," Dan cooed again, stifling more laughter in his sleeve.

Ace smirked, also enjoying the scene. "Why didn't we think of this sooner?"

Shun raised an eyebrow. "So you did all this because...?"

"We were just teaching him a lesson, Shun," Dan explained. "Klaus needs to understand that life isn't always a Wonderland."

"So you practically ruined his company for that?"

Dan snorted. "Hardly. I don't know how long it'll take Klaus to figure out that we didn't really sell the plans."

"Hey," Ace chimed in. "Do you still think Klaus will let us in after this?"

"Sure, why not?"

The Vestal shrugged. "I was just wondering whether Sirenoid just called security on us or on Klaus."

"Probably us...oh."

Again, the readers' opinions are greatly appreciated, so make sure to tell me what you think, what I could have done better, in a review!

Cocoacharm15