Long AN, I am sorry, will only happen in chappie 1.
I've been wanting to do this, but never did because... Well, I forgot. O_O'
This is inspired by my 'Diary Of a Deadman', 'Hidden Secrets' and a few chapters of the '101 WWE-ficlets' fanfics. (In the Wrestling section)
Said fics were inspired by the diaries of Georgia Nicholson. For some stupid reason I can't seem to remember the author of those books because I haven't read them in years. Just google.
I'll be working on this while I try to write the next chappies to Flexi and Meine Freunde.
Full summary; Diaries are fun to keep, so everyone in the Resident Evil Universe has one aswell. Instead of using pretty words to describe their feelings, they will jot down random thoughts through-out the day. Let's take a look at the things they have written in the past few years, shall we?
Note; Some characters, like Mr. Resident Evil Albert Wesker, will have more entries than just one.
These are one-shots. Smal spinoff from Meine Freunde, but can be read seperately.
Warnings for the whole series; Mild language, mild sexual references, whole lot of CRACK, OOC. (I warned you!) I DON'T OWN RE.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1; A different side of Wesker.
January 20, 2003.
05:15
I'm still in bed but I woke up because I have to pee. I don't want to get up, so I'm trying to think of a solution here...
05:20
There's only one thing I can do to prevent myself from having to get up, and I don't think it's that great of an idea... Because I would still have to get up, and on top of that, clean my damn sheets.
I wish life was a little easier on me sometimes.
05:30
Perhaps I should call Jack and have him come over, carry me to the bathroom, and when I'm done with my business, have him carry me back. He's always telling me that he'd do anything I ask of him, because I gave him a better life.
Though I must say, Jack is insanely hard to wake up for some reason, so by the time he's here, I'll have to make a run for it in order to prevent certain accidents from happening.
05:35
I wonder who else on this planet writes about having to pee, but not wanting to get up. This diary better stay secret, or people might think of me as a ridiculous man. Wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?
No, we would not.
05:37
I had the strangest dream, by the way. I was at the train-station, in my pajamas, and I was looking for photographs. The photos were hidden inbetween the bicycles, so I couldn't get my hands on them.
After moving every damn bicycle out of my way, I grabbed the photos, stole a bike and rode off, still in my pajamas. I was cycling faster than the cars, but I wasn't watching where I was going, so I ended up cycling right into a swimmingpool.
I don't understand this dream, and I hope it didn't mean anything. I don't quite like bicycles, I still own that one moped I got years ago. 'Al's Moped of Doom', remember?
05:45
Fine, I'll get up! I will leave my warm bed and fluffy pillows behind, and I will do something about the fact that nature keeps calling. Then I will make something to eat, take a shower, do my hair, get dressed and make an attempt to get to work in time.
I'm saying 'in time', because it's raining, and my car is broken, so I will have to wait for the rain to blow over, since I refuse to get wet. Wesker does not get wet, remember?
Someday I hope to find a way to control the weather. That would make my life a lot easier.
06:00
I'm eating only red and pink food today, because according to my horoscope, that will do me good. I wonder how people can get through the day on only tomatoes, cotton candy, bubblegum and red peppers. Oh, and pudding. Good thing I like pudding.
06:12
That damn cat ate all of my pudding! It's always the same old song. You turn your back on a cat, and before you know it, they cause chaos and destruction in a matter of only seconds. Damn cat needs to start listening to me, or I will...
I will...
Oh, who am I kidding? I could never kill Mr. T, I adore him too much.
06:45
I look great today. I look great everyday, but for once I felt like writing it down. Black on white, it's official, Wesker is a stud.
06:56
Logged on to check my e-mail. Every single day when I log in, I see I have about ten unread messages, and about six of them are usually from the Redfield-bastard.
I know that is odd, but it appears Chris has a drinking problem, and every single time he is drunk, he tends to e-mail me. You'd expect hate-mail, death threats and insults, but no. It's worse.
I will jot one or two down here, so you can see what I am talking about. (Eh, wait, who is 'you', anyway? Believe me, if 'you' are reading my diary, there will be hell to pay! Better put the notebook down before I come over and make 'you!'. I mean it!)
From; XtopherRedfield
To; AlbertsGunnaKillYa
Subject; They're HERE!
WEKSER! Dood! Did ya hear teh newz? They're comin'! They are comin'! And fast! Faster than a caterpillar on rollerblades with a firecracker up its ass!
OH haha, I said 'ass'. Oops!
I'm sorry, I won't cuss again! :D
Love,
X
See what I mean? I find that a lot more disturbing than 'I know where you are, better watch your back'.
I do also wonder who is 'coming'. I hope it's not Chris himself, because that would be a plain gross detail to share with me.
07:10
Oh, would you look at that... This is what happens if the Redfield's sister finds out Chris has been e-mailing me again.
From; Claire
To; AlbertsGunnaKillYa
Subject; I apologize...
... For the behavior of my brother. I don't know what he was talking about when he said 'they are coming', but I'm guessing he was seeing things again. You know, things that aren't actually there.
I know it's annoying how he keeps e-mailing you, but don't worry! I'm trying to get him to go to rehab.
Sadly enough every time I mention that, he stares at me, grabs a hairbrush and starts singing 'they try to make me go to rehab, I said, no, no, nooo'.
I'll find a way to deal with him! Until then, please refrain from killing him. You should fight him when he is in the right frame of mind.
Claire.
07:30
I should get to work... It's still raining though. I could bring an umbrella, but then my pants would still get wet, because they're a bit too long, therefore touch the ground when I am walking.
07:35
Perhaps I should wear shorts today?
07:41
Am wearing shorts. Black shorts, of course. I stuffed my pants in my briefcase and I will put them back on when I arrive at my office. The only thing I can do right now is pray I don't run into anyone I know. I don't look that bad in shorts, but I'm pretty sure it is to be considered 'insane' to wear shorts when it's pretty chilly outside, and raining cats and dogs.
Now all I have to do is put Mr. T on a leash, and I'll be ready to go. I just hope T won't try to make a run for it when he sees my umbrella, since he's damn afraid of it. I still don't understand why, it must be a cat-thing.
08:30
Ah, I am finally at the office, and so far, nobody has seen me yet. Well, nobody except for that young woman near the bus-stop, that yelled 'I wear short shorts!' at me when I passed her.
I felt the need to smack her with my briefcase, but I couldn't. You see, T's leash was in the same hand, because I was also carrying an umbrella. And well, had I smacked her, T would've ran off, and chaos would've been inevitable.
08:34
I just saw HUNK appear out of nowhere, so now I am hiding in the cafeteria, because I didn't have a chance to get changed yet. I pray he doesn't find me here, for seeing a man in shorts, carrying an umbrella and walking around with a cat on a leash, must be a strange sight at the least.
Then again, seeing said man hiding underneath a table must be even stranger.
09:00
I made it! I am in my own office, with the door locked, and nobody I know has seen my short shorts.
I just pulled my pants out of my briefcase, and they currently look like they haven't been ironed in three years. That's just great, I'll look like a rich hobo for the rest of the day. Unless I keep my shorts on, in which case I'll look like a dumbass.
Both choices do not appeal to me at all.
09:07
Calling the Krauser...
"Jack!" I yelled when my loyal employee answered my call. "I need your help, for I look like a rich hobo!"
Jack snickered. "You know, a lot of hobos would love to look rich, I'm sure."
"You must come here and iron my pants, please." I said 'please', because I doubt he would iron anything otherwise. "Also, if you could get me some coffee, that would be great."
"Iron your pants? Sir, I don't think that would be a good idea, I might burn you!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Jack, I will not be in the pants while you iron them... That would be ridiculous."
"Oh... Oh, okay." Jack fell silent, which usually means he is eating something, or thinking really hard. "Can't you ask HUNK to do it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's HUNK. He only listens to me when I make him kill, destroy or burn something. It's what he does." I sighed. "Come on Jack, my pants look awful, you must iron them for me, that is an order!"
"Okay, fine."
Jack hung up, he should be here soon. I do hope so, anyway, for I have to attend a meeting in an hour, and I must look somewhat presentable. I doubt Tricell will like me if I look like a hobo, no matter how rich that hobo would be.
09:49
I am very glad I wasn't wearing the pants while the Krauser ironed them. He definitely would've left a mark, as he burned a hole straight through the fabric.
I'm awfully annoyed right now, but I decided to just follow plan B. I had Jack take his pants off, and put them on myself. I can't go to a meeting with a hole in my pants, that would look too unprofessional. So I'm wearing Krauser's jeans. They're a bit on the big side, but with a belt I should manage to keep them from falling off.
11:30
That meeting was awful.
11:50
I do not wish to talk, write or even think about it.
12:23
Stupid belt. Stupid pants. Stupid Krauser. Stupid rain.
If it had been dry when I left my house, I wouldn't have stuffed my pants into my briefcase. Krauser wouldn't have created a hole in them. I'd never worn Krauser's jeans. They wouldn't have fallen down because of a belt-malfuntion. Miss Gionne would not have seen my boxers in full glory.
Now I'll never be able to use her as a high-level asset, mainly because she has almost seen my 'asset', so right now she probably thinks I am a retard.
13:00
You know, my IQ? Far over 150.
Still, I did lose my pants over it.
13:09
Might aswell try to get some work done, there's no use feeling bad about the things that happened during the meeting. I should just look at the bright side of it... At least everyone knows I have a very tight ass.
That's important too, you know?
14:00
Some of the people that work here have written a song. It is called 'Wesker's pants', and it goes like this;
'Wesker's pants are falling down, falling down, falling down. Wesker's pants are falling down, oh how funny'.
It's like London Bridge is falling down, but with better lyrics.
14:32
Come to think of it... It's a lot worse when my pants fall down, than when a bridge falls down. A bridge can be rebuilt, my -bad- first impression on Tricell will last forever.
15:00
Sitting outside in Jack's pants, making Jack cut the grass near the office. He must pay for the hole in my pants, and what better way to make him pay, than by making him mow the lawn in his underwear?
You tell me.
Or no, don't. If 'you' tell me, that means you have been reading my diary, and if I see you do that, you won't have enough time to tell me anything. If you read this, you will be disposed of.
15:12
Trying to find out where the hell Spencer is hiding out these days. I could ask Sergei, but I doubt he would tell me. All Sergei ever says when I call him is 'Comrade Wesker, Santa Clause does not live in Russia, so stop calling'.
I don't know why he says that, though. Must be a Russian thing.
I should dispose of him. Hnnnn. I will later this year.
17:00
Time to go home. I didn't do a lot of interesting or useful things today, but at least I didn't leave too early either. That damn Organization should be content.
Also, I am going out tonight, which is something that hardly ever happens, as I am usually a little too busy doing other stuff, like playing heavy metal on my piano.
No piano tonight though, for Wesker is going to see heavy metal live and in concert.
18:00
Good thing I always wear black. All I have to do is replace my black sweater with a bandshirt, and I'm good to go. I think I might keep Jack's jeans on, because according to HUNK, jeans are very metal.
I'll wear suspenders though, to prevent any long-haired men from seeing my boxers, like Tricell did a few hours ago.
18:15
Good, HUNK and Jack are here too, so I guess it's time to go. Thank God Jack put some new pants on, because I wouldn't have let him come along if he had been half-naked.
Then again, we're going to a metal-concert, so I'm sure Krauser will get drunk and end up fully naked. I wouldn't be surprised, that's all I'm saying.
Anyway, I will be back to writing when we're home, since I am not taking my damn diary with me. I don't think that would be a good idea, because if someone finds it, they will have it published, and then I would have to kill every single person who owns a copy of the book, or has read it.
23:56
I am exhausted. I woke up shortly after five in the morning, and I can't go to bed yet. I had to let Krauser stay in my guestroom because he indeed got drunk. But rather than taking his clothes off, he is acting very emotional.
I didn't know that man had feelings. It's kind of pathetic, grown men should never cry, and if they ever do, they should wear sunglasses so nobody sees them do it.
I should go check on him...
00:12
Sitting in the guestroom, trying to figure out what exactly is the Krauser's problem. He keeps saying things about a hamster and his beret. I haven't got the slightest clue as to how those things are related. Krauser's sobbing is making it awfully hard to understand the context.
00:17
"And the, the... hamster. A... Oh lord!" More sobbing. Krauser isn't just full of bullshit, he's also full of tears.
I shook my head and shrugged. I wish HUNK was still here, so he could keep an eye on his scarred comrade. I'm getting annoyed.
"I miss my mom! Oh Mutter, gib mir Kraft..."
"Oh for the love of God, Jack, please don't start being sad in German, that is even worse." I scowled, my German isn't that good, to be honest.
Jack stopped sobbing and stared at me, very intensely. It's not a very comforting sight, let me tell you that...
"Sir?" Jack asked.
I have a bad feeling about this... "Yes?"
"Can I have a hug?"
I stood up and stalked towards the door. "No, you cannot!"
"Please! I haven't been hugged in years..."
"Neither have I, and I intend on keeping it that way..." I heaved a sigh and walked to the closet. I opened it and pulled out a giant stuffed elephant. "Here, go cuddle with Al the Elephant." I gave the 'thing' to Jack. "Then go to sleep, it's late, good night."
00:34
I feel kind of bad for the Krauser. I didn't know he was so emo. I do, however, know that I am not letting him drink again. Violence I can handle, crying I cannot.
Well, I suppose it's time I went to bed too, because I am deadly tired from dodging crowdsurfers and worrying about my pants.
Good night, notebook. Good night.
I still can't remember the author of those awesome books for kids, but I do remember the title of the first book! 'Angus, thongs and...' Oh hell, what came after that? Full-frontal snogging?
Eh. Reviews are appreciated, hardcore flames are frowned upon.
FUNK