Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, any of the characters, or Major League Baseball. ^_^

Warning: For the purpose of comedy, most of the characters are OOC. Just warning you now.

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Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the Star- wha, this isn't Star Trek? *looks at script* Oh… this is Cowboy Bebop. Meh, just start the story.

*Aboard the Bebop*

"What's for dinner today, Jet?" Spike asked.

"Bell peppers and beef," Jet said.

"Not again," Spike groaned.

"Okay, okay, fine, I went out and ordered pizza," Jet said. "Happy?"

"All right!" Spike yelled, leaping into the air. "But how could you afford pizza?"

"Don't tell him about breaking into his piggy bank. Don't tell him about breaking into his piggy bank."

"I broke into your piggy bank," Jet said.

"D'oh!"

"What?" Spike yelled angrily. "You used MY money to buy pizza?"

"You were happy we were getting pizza a while ago," Jet said.

"That's before it was my money!" Spike yelled.

"Hypocrite," Jet muttered under his breath.

---

SESSION 1- Steroid Blues

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"So, Jet, what bounty are we going after today?" Spike asked. Jet walked over to the Bebop's computer console and pressed a button.

"His name's Asimov," Jet said. "He's in the Earth city of Tijuana. He's been dealing out steroids to little kids."

"What?" Spike yelled. "Doesn't he know what that stuff does to your-"

"He probably doesn't care," Jet said. "He's also been using it himself."

"That stuff nearly killed baseball 70 years ago!" Spike yelled.

"And it'll kill it for good, unless we stop this guy," Jet said.

"Then let's go!"

The Bebop fired up its thrusters and headed for Earth.

---

TIJUANA-

Tijuana was a busy place as this time of day. Children were running around, while adults were…. well, not running around, probably because they were tired or old or something. But that's not important right now. Sitting by a street corner was the vile, evil, sadistic, mean steroid dealer, Asimov.

"You want this?" Asimov said to a teenage boy who had approached him. He was holding up a needle.


"What is it?" the boy asked.

"It's the good stuff," Asimov said. "You gotta have it if you wanna hit home runs like Barry Bonds IV!"

"You mean the guy that set the single-season home run record of 922 home runs last year?" the teenage boy asked. "I can really hit like him if I use that?"

"Of course!" Asimov said. "All the players do it!"

"Wow!" the boy said. "I'll take-"

But at that moment, dust began to circle about on the ground as the Bebop landed right in front of Asimov. The teenage boy ran off in fear.


"Hey!" Asimov yelled. "I was about to make a sale!"

The Bebop came to a stop. The door opened. Spike and Jet climbed out.


"Stop right there, Asimov," Spike said. "We're not going to let you kill baseball again."

"It was the labor disputes and lack of profit-sharing that nearly killed it last time!" Asimov protested. "Steroids had nothing to do with it!"

Asimov took the needle and jabbed it into his arm. His muscles began to swell up until they were twice their normal size. The pumped-up Asimov flexed his muscles for Spike.

"Try to beat me now!" Asimov said. Spike swung his fist at Asimov. While Asimov was weighed down by his muscles and was way too slow to dodge the punch, it didn't matter, because Spike's fist connected with Asimov's mighty steroid-enhanced muscles.

"I didn't feel a thing!" Asimov laughed. He threw a punch and nailed Spike in the face, knocking him out.

"Uh, I'll be waiting in the Bebop," Jet said. He climbed into the ship and flew off.

"Looks like your friend has abandoned you!" Asimov said. "Now you die!"

"Wait!" came a feminine voice. A very beautiful woman ran up to Asimov. "Don't kill him!"

"Why not?" Asimov asked.

"Because I'm your supermodel girlfriend and you have to do everything I say because I'm hot," the woman said.

"Aw…." Asimov sighed. He walked away.

"Are you okay?" the woman said to Spike, shaking him awake. "You got the crap kicked out of you."

Spike woke up.


"Unnh…" Spike groaned. "Yeah, I'm about as okay as a guy can be who just got punched by another guy who's on steroids."

"Good!" the woman said.

"Man, you're hot. Are you Asimov's girlfriend?" Spike asked.

"Yes, I am. Sometimes he's not the best boyfriend… like the time he got arrested for DWI, and the time he got arrested for speeding, and the time he got arrested for murder, and the time he got arrested for DWI again, but I still love him," the woman said.

"Crap," Spike said. "You know, your boyfriend's a criminal."

"I know," the woman said.

"He's selling steroids to kids," Spike said.

"I know," the woman said.

"He's a big ugly smelly doo-doo head," Spike said.


"I know!" the woman said. "Wait a minute…"

Spike laughed.


"You know, you're pretty funny. Who are you?" the woman asked.

"I'm a cowboy," Spike said.

"Like the Sprite commercial 75 years ago?" the woman asked.

"Yes, like the obscure pop culture reference from the 20th century that none of us should remember," Spike said. "I'm a cowboy."

"Like in the Kid Rock song?" the woman asked.

"Yes, like the Kid Rock song," Spike said.

"I want to go to Mars," the woman said.


"Why?" Spike asked.

"Because Earth sucks," the woman said.

"Yeah, it does," Spike said. "That's why I live in space."

"Okay, I love you, bye bye," the woman said, running off.

---

Meanwhile, in a bar a little ways away…

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked.


"I need more steroids," Azimov said.


"I think you've had enough," the bartender said.

"HULK MAD! HULK WANT STEROIDS!" Azimov yelled.

"Fine, fine," the bartender said. He reached below the counter and pulled out a box with several needles and bottles of pills. "You know that if you take too much of this stuff, it shrinks your-"

"HULK WANT STEROIDS NOW!" Azimov yelled, taking the needle and injecting himself. His muscles swelled up to twice their normal size. "Much better."

At that moment, the door to the bar was kicked open. A large looking muscle-man walked into the bar.

"I want those steroids! Oh yeeee-ah!" the man yelled.

"Aren't you Randy Savage?" Asimov asked.

"No, I'm just a muscle-man! Oh yeeee-ah!" the man yelled again. "Gimme those steroids! Oh yeeee-ah!"

The muscle-man ran at Asimov. Asimov grabbed the man and spun him around, then slammed him through one of the tables in the bar.


"That hurt! Oh yeeee-ah!" the man said. He passed out.

"Idiot," Asimov said. He turned around. "Hey! My steroids are gone!"

---

Spike ran from the bar as fast as he could, carrying the box of steroids.

"I'm gonna go dump these in the river!" Spike said. "I'm a sneaky little devil!"

Spike continued to run from the bar. Asimov ran out of the bar and chased Spike.


"Come back here!" Asimov yelled. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Suddenly, a leg came out in front of Spike. It belonged to Asimov's supermodel girlfriend. Spike tripped over her leg and fell to the ground, dropping the box of steroids.

"Sorry, cowboy," the woman said. Asimov grabbed Spike.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," Asimov said.

"Don't kill him!" the woman yelled.

"Don't worry. I'm just gonna beat him up and take his lunch money," Asimov said. And that's just what he said. When he was done, Asimov and his supermodel girlfriend got into their tiny spaceship and blasted off into space, taking the box of steroids with them. Spike stood up, wearily.


"Oh no you don't!" Spike yelled. "You're not killing baseball again!"

Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out the one thing Asimov hasn't stolen, his key-chain remote control. He pressed the button, and his space fighter, the Swordfish II appeared. Spike hopped into it and drove off, giving chase after Asimov.

---

"Mwahaha!" Azimov laughed. "I'm getting away!"

"Oh Azimov," the woman said. "This is wrong, I know it!"

"What's wrong?" Asimov asked.


"Selling steroids to kids! And taking that poor man's lunch money!" the woman yelled.

"Shut up," Asimov said. He began injecting all of the steroids, his muscles getting bigger and bigger.

"What are you doing?" the woman yelled.


"I'm going to be the greatest slugger of all time!" Asimov declared.


"Not if I can help it!" Spike's voice crackled through the radio in Asimov's space fighter.

"What?" Asimov yelled. He turned his head to see Spike's Swordfish bearing down on him. "Aaaaah!"

Asimov's fighter sped up, trying to lose Spike. However, as we all know, Spike's a much better pilot than Asimov. The Swordfish gained on Asimov's space fighter.

"Stop in the name of bounty hunting!" Spike yelled.

"Noooo!" Asimov yelled.

"Asimov!" the woman yelled.


Asimov began taking more and more steroids. His muscles swelled up to fill the space fighter.

"Asimov! Your muscles are squashing me!" the woman said in a muffled voice. Asimov's muscles got bigger and bigger.

"Argh!" Asimov yelled. Asimov's muscles got too big. The tiny space fighter's windows began to crack.

"Now I'll never get to go to Mars," the woman said. "Oh well, at least I didn't die on Earth. It sucks."

The tiny space fighter exploded. Asimov and the woman died instantly in the coldness of space. Although it took Asimov a bit longer because he had big muscles, but rest assured, they both died.

"Crap," Spike said. "I really wanted that bounty. Darn you, steroids!"

---

BACK ON THE BEBOP…

"And he blew up! It was really cool," Spike said.

"But you didn't get the bounty!" Jet said.

"Yeah, that sucks," Spike said. "Hey wait… what about that pizza you ordered?"

"It came while you were in Tijuana, so I had to eat it all," Jet said.

"You took my piggybank money to buy pizza, and then you ate it all," Spike said.

"Yeah, that's about it," Jet said.

"Remind me to kill you," Spike said.

See you, space cowboy…

---

Jet: Next time, on Cowboy Bebop: The Funny Sessions, we chase a frog smuggler!

Spike: I thought he was a dog smuggler, Jet.


Jet: Nope, a frog smuggler.


Spike: This is a parody! The characters don't change! We get a dog!

Jet: Shut up, Spike. You're acting like a little kid.


Spike: I want a dog!

Jet: Just because the episode has "frog" in the title doesn't mean we don't get a dog, Spike.


Spike: Huh?

Jet: Next time on Cowboy Bebop: The Funny Sessions, "Stray Frog Strut".

Spike: So is it a frog, or a dog?