Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Movie Rip-offs, Act I: Bite Me (The Princess Bride, Yu Yu Style) ❯ Butts, More Feet, and A Really Ripe Dude ( Chapter 14 )

DISCLAIMER: The number of things we actually own is diminishing with each chapter. Don't worry, though, because there will be one massive disclaimer in the last chapter—we take nothing without credit.

 

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Erik slammed his head against the table, which was covered end-to-end with maps and blueprints of the castle. “Is it okay if I just leave them to die?”

 

The closet hopper smacked him over the head. “No! Is not okay! You get boys. I have to know where boys are! You save—”

 

“Okay, okay, jeez, I get it. I save boys.”

 

“YES, YOU SAVE—”

 

Just then, the door of the galley slammed open. “ERIK!”

 

The doctor groaned. “What do you want, Kirk?”

 

“I don't know what to do, Erik! I'm shaking like a spastic colon!”

 

“Didn't need to hear that, thanks….”

 

“What wrong?” the closet hopper asked crisply.

 

“I sat on a beeee!” Kirk wailed.

 

“So?”

 

“I think it's infected!”

 

“So?”

 

“So I need you to look at it!”

 

“I'm not looking at your butt, Kirk.”

 

“But it huuuuurts!”

 

“I don't care.”

 

“It's nothing to be freaked out about! It's not a funny shape or anything!”

 

“Stop talking about your butt, Kirk.”

 

“But—”

 

“NO!!!”

 

Kirk left, looking depressed and with much slamming of doors. Rolling his eyes, Erik turned back to Mrs. Kim.

 

“So…what were you saying?”

 

Mrs. Kim thought a moment, then picked up right where she'd left off. “—BOYS!”

 

“YEAH, YEAH, I GOT THAT! BUT WHAT'S WITH THE HOMEWORK?!”

 

“Homework? What homework?”

 

They were interrupted—again—when the door opened—again—and Mikail walked in, looking as if he were facing execution. The reason for this became clear when Kirk followed him in and prodded and poked at his shoulder until Mikail spoke up, reluctantly, his voice broken and thickly accented.

 

“I need you to look at Kirk's butt.”

 

“Well, why can't you do it?” Erik snapped.

 

“I don't want to do it,” Mikail replied, scandalized. “Why do I have to do it?”

 

“Um…because you're a chef…” Erik said, saying the first thing that came to mind.

 

Pause.

 

“And…uh…because you have a kid,” he added, lamely.

 

“Well, yeah, I do, but it's big and can look at its own butt,” Mikail protested/

 

Erik lost his patience. “FINE! Do you want me to take a look, Kirk?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Erik paused, then turned to Mrs. Kim. “I don't wanna take a look.”

 

“Well, I am certainly not looking.”

 

Erik cursed.

 

XXX

 

Kurama had already come up with exactly 247 things he'd rather be doing than this. Among these 247 things were eating his own hands, cutting off his head and using it as a punch bowl, and sliding down a banister of razorblades and landing in a pool of alcohol.

 

At least I get to wear a suit, Kurama thought sourly, almost grimacing visibly as he remembered what they'd wanted him to wear—a frilly pink shoot-me-if-I-decide-to-wear-this-vile-concoction dress that had caused him to run screaming from the room as soon as he laid eyes on it.

 

But he shouldn't be thinking about the horrifying outfit right now.

 

He should be thinking about a means of escape.

 

Looking down at the bouquet of roses in his hands, a thought struck him. I can just…throw these in Karasu's face when I get to the altar and RUN!

 

Kurama was preoccupied when he reached the altar, but not so preoccupied that he didn't feel a flash of loathing when he noticed the self-satisfied smirk Karasu wore. Oh, and he also noticed a random, old, fat, balding man standing in a corner, eyes closed, clasping a crucifix, a group of acolytes holding up his robes behind him, all of them completely still. Weird…

 

Almost imperceptibly, he began to raise the roses…

 

“Mahwwage.”

 

Kurama's mind went immediately blank as the impeded speech reached his ears.

 

“Mahwwage is what bwings us togever today.”

 

Oh, Lord…

 

The flowers fell.

 

XXX

 

“This has the potential to really suck,” Erik murmured, peeking over the castle wall at the assembly of guards, and then ducking back down when one looked up at them. He sighed heavily, and muttered, “Ya know, last thing I was doing was looking at Kirk' butt. How in God's name did I end up here?”

 

But the answer to that was very simple. It's all the closet hopper's fault!

 

After he'd finally agreed to go after “boys”—whoever they were—the closet hopper had explained that he would have to get to the castle himself, because she couldn't transport anyone but herself.

 

So, grumbling every step, but too terrified of the closet hopper to refuse, Erik headed on foot down the road to Florin. About twelve miles down, he ran into a small group of misfits. There were three of them. One was carrying a pike with a scarecrow's head on it, and another was carrying the third, who seemed…dead.

 

“Dude…that guy is rank.”

 

With those inspired words, Erik joined up with the group, who were incidentally headed to the same place.

 

While Erik had been thinking, Chu had taken a peek over the wall, and now he dropped again and turned to face Erik. “I can take the forty on the left, and you take the forty on the right.”

 

“Hey, guys, this corpse smells really bad.”

 

“And Kuwabara can stay here and hold the dead guy.”

 

“I'm not kidding, guys! It's really bad!”

 

“So how do we get in?” Erik asked.

 

“We could get on top of the wall, and shimmy down really quiet…”

 

“I don't want to shimmy! You shimmy!”

 

“Have you ever seen me shimmy? It's not pretty!”

 

“So we should just jump over the wall?”

 

“Okay, guys, I'm gonna dump the body. If anyone has any objections say so now!”

 

“We're not gazelles! We'll hafta climb it. You got rope?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“…Okay, then, I'll just go throw him in this conveniently labeled Pit of Doom over here…” Kuwabara called, walking over to said Pit and peering down. A second later, though, he jumped back as a deep voice issued from the wide, deep hole.

 

“Wilst thou grant the gods thy human sacrifice?”

 

Kuwabara thought about it a moment, then shrugged and held Hiei out by his right ankle, dangling him upside down. “Okay.”

 

“NOOO!” Chu screamed, having finally decided to pay attention to poor Kuwabara. “DOOON'T!”

 

Kuwabara, now holding Hiei by his big toe, turned quickly, opening his hand as he did so. “Don't what--?”

 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Chu cried theatrically.

 

But the freak-out was unwarranted, for when Kuwabara, Erik and Chu looked over the edge, they found that he had landed on a conveniently-placed rock ledge and was now quite safe, aside from still being dead.

 

“You suck, Kuwabara.”

 

“BOO!”

 

“OH, MY GOD!”

 

“STUPID! INCOMPETENT! PATHETIC! BOO!”

 

And before they could figure out where she'd come from, the Ancient Booer was gone.

 

“So…” Erik said, turning back to the problem at hand. “How do we get him out?”

 

Chu thought about it a second. “So. You remember the rope. We make it into a loop, send the lightest guy down, and pull him and Hiei up! Simple.”

 

“Yeah, but…who's the lightest guy?”

 

As one, both Kuwabara and Chu looked at Erik, who immediately began to back away. “No…no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I knew I should have finished off that cake at dinner last night…”

 

XXX

 

“And wuuuuve…twue wuuuuve…will fowwow you…fowevah…”

 

Karasu waited patiently for the warbling to stop, Kurama's unwilling hand clenched tightly and painfully in his, rendering the redhead helpless and unable to carry out his hastily-sketched plan.

 

This BITES! Kurama thought mutinously, almost physically pained by the voice. I am going to KILL Yomi.

 

XXX

 

“HEAVE! HO! HEAVE! HO!”

 

“WILL YOU STOP YOUR HEAVING AND YOUR HOING AND JUST PULL US UP?” Erik yelled frantically, his arms wrapped tightly around the dead man's waist as they dangled over the yawning abyss beneath them. “Oh, God, I hate heights…” he moaned, closing his eyes.

 

Finally, with a lot of scraping and bumping and yelping, Erik felt himself reach level ground at last. He stood up and untied the rope, swearing vengeance on Kuwabara under his breath.

 

“Yeesh, Erik, you were a lot heavier coming up than you were going down,” Kuwabara sighed.

 

Erik rolled his eyes. “Can we just get back to the plan?”

 

XXX

 

How has this guy not been fired by now? Kurama wondered, as the infernal priest continued his ceremony. He almost found himself wishing they'd get to the “I do” part, just so the freak would stop talking. And with each word, his hatred for Karasu grew. Hiring this freak was just another mark against the prince, as far as Kurama was concerned.

 

Someone has got to take matters into their own hands…

 

XXX

 

“I really don't want to fight eighty people,” Chu murmured, looking pensive.

 

“You've said that twice in the last three minutes,” Erik snapped, his patience with all humanity beginning to wear thin. “But you have yet to come up with any ideas.”

 

“Hey, I'm working on it! No need to act like a snob!”

 

“Yeah, well, you're being—”

 

“Couldn't we just climb down the vine?” Kuwabara spoke up, tugging on the long, thick vine that led from the bridge/wall they were perched on directly to a window of the castle.

 

“Oh…uh…I guess…we could do that?” Chu asked, looking at Erik for confirmation and trying not to look too shocked at Kuwabara's coming up with a good idea.

 

Erik looked over the high wall, his eyes passing from the window to the guards and back again. Then he sighed. “Fine, give me the vine.”

 

XXX

 

This is ridiculous! Kurama thought furiously, just about fed up with the entire thing. I am not the damsel in distress! I don't need to just wait to be rescued…

 

“AAAH-AH-AH-AH-AH!”

 

The voice ceased at last as everyone in the room turned toward the window, looking for the source of the strange yells.

 

“AAAH-AH-AH-AH-AH!”

 

CRASH!

 

“Ow, ow, ow!”

 

“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FELL ON ME! I AM THE CROWN PRINCE OF FLORIN!!!”

 

“Oh…nice to meet you, Your Highness.”

 

“Kuwabara, you're not supposed to talk to him. He's the enemy.”

 

“Oh…sorry, Chu.”

 

“Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all…”

 

“I could have told you that!”

 

“Shut up, Erik.”

 

“I still have Mask!”

 

“Good for you, Kuwabara.”

 

“Can we get up now?”

 

The group disentangled more quickly this time, and once they'd stumbled to their feet, they all stood, looking embarrassed, and for a few moments the whole room was silent. Then…

 

Clunk, clunk.

 

“YOU DESECRATE THE HOUSE OF GOD!”

Erik looked at the random priest in the corner, who had opened his eyes at last. “Uh…yeah…good luck with that. You all right, Kurama?”

 

Kurama, who was pale and wide-eyed and still processing, nodded slowly. “I'm…fine…”

 

“Good, then could you point me to the dungeon…?”

 

Kurama's eyes remained fastened on Hiei, still lying in Kuwabara's arms, and made no attempt to reply.

 

“Uh…okay…what about you guys?” Erik asked the rest of the room politely.

 

Every single person—including Karasu and the random priest—pointed the way.

 

“Er…thanks,” Erik muttered, and took off.

 

Kuwabara watched him leave, then leaned forward, thrusting Hiei's face toward Kurama. “Pssst. Kiss him…” he murmured, pointing to Hiei just in case he was confused. “Him!”

 

Kurama screwed up his face. “Eeeew! No way…”

 

“But you love him!”

 

“Not that much! I mean, would it have killed you to bathe him?”

 

“Well…um…” Kuwabara stuttered. “Maybe…”

 

Kurama went white then, staring down at Hiei. “Oh, my God…” he murmured softly. “Hiei's…is he dead? He's dead…”

 

“You're…kinda slow, aren't you?” Chu asked.

 

“Yeah. I knew that. I mean, I'm an idiot. What's your excuse?”

 

Kurama's hands fell limply to his sides, and he looked so pale that Kuwabara shifted Hiei so that he could reach out and grab the redhead's shoulder in case he fell down.

 

“Oh, my God. Hiei…dead…so what am I supposed to do now? Do I…marry Karasu? Run away? Eat cake? WHAT CRUEL FATE IS THIS?”

 

Chu spoke up cheerfully. “Well, he's not actually dead, dontcha know! All he needs is the Kiss of Life and he'll be right as rain!”

 

Kurama looked up quickly, hope filling his features. “Really? Well…can I still have cake?”

 

“You bet. Love's first kiss can cure him. That means you. It can't be anyone else. But you need to do it fast—before he actually dies, ya know.”

 

Kurama thought about it a moment, then spoke decidedly. “Well, we can't do it here. It isn't proper. We should put him in a really fancy room, on a bed of roses.”

 

“But we don't have a bed of roses,” Chu protested.

 

“Oh, I've got one upstairs,” Kurama replied matter-of-factly.

 

“Oh…how…er…convenient,” Chu said slowly.

 

“Yeah, it is. C'mon, Kuwa, let's go…and you can tell me what you're even doing here…”

 

A round of applause as they ran past drew Karasu from the stupor he'd fallen into while staring at a butterfly outside the window, and he turned quickly, to find his bride gone and his wedding in shambles, and no one left except a bunch of guards and a weird blue-haired guy.

 

“Well…can't have `em followed, now, can we?” Chu asked cheerfully. “Ya got any beer? No? Well, okay.” And then Chu's grin wasn't at all endearing—it was cold and vicious and cunning and just plain freaky. “Let's go, Barbie.”

 

XXX

 

As Erik rounded the corner and set eyes on the prisoners he'd been sent to rescue, a grin spread across his face. “Well, I'll be damned,” he murmured to himself, running the last few feet to peer inside the cells. “So you're boys?” he asked, grinning at Benji.

 

“Oh, yeah, thanks, Erik! You're my doctor! Do you really need to ask that?”

 

Erik shrugged. “One never knows,” he said, producing a skeleton key from his pocket and putting it in the lock of the cell. He tossed the key in, and Benji unlocked his shackles and came gratefully out of the prison. Erik closed the door behind him, and then turned to pull his friend into a quick hug.

 

“You okay?”

 

Benji shrugged. “I've come away with a nice, healthy hatred of our dear prince, so it's actually an upper. Good to see you, though, man.”

 

Erik smiled, and clasped Benji's shoulder one more time before letting him go.

 

A whimper drew their attention then, and Benji immediately rushed to the other cell with a murmur of, “Miguel…”

 

Erik watched with concern as Benji unlocked the cell and ran in to set his love free.

 

Miguel rocketed out and threw himself at Erik, burying his nose in the doctor's shirt. “Clean…like it…” Then he looked down, and screamed. “FEET!”

 

The next second, Benji found his arms full of eighty pounds of shaking redhead. Miguel burrowed into Benji's shoulder, and sighed. “I knew you didn't have feet…” he said, using the little English he knew.

 

“But…Miguel…he does have feet,” Erik said gently, ignorant of Benji's frantically shaking head. “And so do you…”

 

There was no telling how much Miguel understood, but he did look down, and then let out another wail. Then he raced back into his cell, grabbed the spoon they'd given him, sat down, and begin to saw at his ankles, muttering, “Feet, feet, feet, feet, feet…”

 

“Uh…why is he hacking at his own foot…?”

 

“Miguel has foot phobia. And he says this place smells like feet. I think it pushed him over the edge…”

 

“Feet, feet, feet, feet, feet…”

 

“But he'll be okay once we get him out.”

 

“Feet, feet, feet, feet, feet…”

 

“I hope,” Benji muttered, going into the cell. Gently, he scooped up Miguel and tossed him over his shoulder, taking the spoon away as he did.

 

“DON'T DO IT, BENJI! DON'T DO IT!”

 

Benji ignored him and began to walk out of the dungeons.

 

“I DON'T WANT IT, I DON'T WANT IT, I DON'T WANT IT!”

 

Miguel quieted when they left the dungeon, though, and had composed himself by the time Benji deposited him on the ground outside. He brushed himself off calmly, and then launched himself at his love with a squeal of, “BENJIIIIII!”

 

Benji smiled, and wrapped his arms around Miguel, kissing the top of his head. “Are you all right?”

 

Miguel nodded. “I love you, Benji…”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure, don't thank me, I just got you both out of there!” Erik muttered.

 

Miguel smiled, and turned to throw his arms around the doctor. “ERIK!”

 

Then he happened to look down, and he screeched to a stop.

 

“…FEEEEEEEEEEEET!”

 

XXX

 

Kurama entered his bedchamber with Kuwabara following him, the latter holding Hiei out in front of him and turning his head to the side to avoid breathing in Hiei's putrid odor.

 

“Set him here, on the bed,” Kurama directed, and Kuwabara did so, then stepped back, quickly. The redhead then sat down beside Hiei on the bed, straightening the blankets absently as he finally brought his eyes to Hiei's face, the face that he felt like he hadn't seen in an eternity. He was on something that was much worse than an emotional roller coaster, and he hated the feeling.

 

As if to make sure the man on the bed was the real thing and not some sort of hologram, Kurama reached out and brushed his fingers through the spiky black hair that was scattered on the pillow. “Thank you,” he whispered.

 

That “thank you” could have been directed at any number of people. Kuwabara…some sort of god that Kurama thought was watching over them…Hiei's prostrate body…

 

But all of those possibilities ceased to matter as Kurama placed a soft kiss on Hiei's lips. Time seemed to freeze, exactly like in one of those stupid romance books. A minute passed, then another, then several more, and Kurama and Kuwabara began to wonder if Hiei had somehow been attacked by stingrays while they weren't looking and gone up to the big crocodile swamp in the sky with good ol' Steve.

 

Then, quite suddenly, Hiei began to stir. It started slowly, with Hiei's hand twitching slightly in his lover's. Kurama blinked. “Hiei?” Then the hand clenched tightly, suddenly, around Kurama's, and Hiei's eyes flew open.

 

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AN: I know, I know, we're the suckiest suck that ever sucked. I'm sooooorry! But it's not me who decides when the chapters end…

 

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