Macross Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Slayers Fan Fiction ❯ The Legend of Macross (which has nothing to do with Macross, really) ❯ Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5: A BUG IN THE MATRIX

Trevor adjusted his glasses and clapped his hands together.

"And that my friends, concludes our study on how Humans aren't really mammals."

Trevor's `mammal' students arose, and the room was filled with the creaking and groaning of leather as they filed out the door in a less than orderly fashion.

"I thought they'd never leave." He mumbled, yanking on his patented `Wire Scouter' â"¢ that he'd recently acquired from his latest meeting.

Shuffling his robes he stood in front of his huge picture window which he'd invested a lot of money into. He ran his hands lovingly over the glass…

It was one of those moments where evil people in the story always seem to show their more emotional and quiet side of their personality…destroying major cities and whatnot all day long gets very tiring. Trevor had just got back from his week long outing of meaningless manslaughter with his future son in law, and he yearned for the company of quiet solitude.

Yes, it was one of the simple things that gave him pleasure in life. Being alone with his lovely picture window. It was where he got most of his inspiration, for he could see the entire city and it made things easier to plot where his next move would be.

Nobody in their right mind would interrupt Trevor while he was spending quality time with his picture window.

"Excuse me Sir…?"

He stiffened and turned very slowly, as to draw out dramatic emphasis.

"Yes…?"

"There's somebody here to see you." Said the fat balding man in the doorway. It was only another reason to cause Trevor anxiety, he despised fat people. Especially bald ones.

"Who is it? Who would…" he struggled with the words, "DARE interrupt me while I'm BUSY?" he cried at last, fidgeting with his robes.

"I don't know Sir, but I think I've seen them on Television before." The man replied.

Trevor sighed in disdain and ran his hands over his picture window nervously. At last he gritted his teeth and forced himself to ask another question.

"I…want to be alone now, whoever you are."

"Tim."

"Tim. Well yes Tim…what happened to Mike?"

"You fired Mike, last week ago Tuesday."

Trevor eyed him for a moment, then folded his hands behind his back and stared out the window. "I don't recall."

"He spilt coffee on your newspaper. Dreadful incident if you ask me Sir."

"I didn't ask you, did I? Now you can march your fat ass out that door, and come back when you're ready to tell me if these people have enough importance to bother me with `petty' matters."

The man nodded and was promptly gone.

Trevor whimpered something incoherent and stroked the glass of the window once more.

"We'll be alone soon Martha, I swear. It makes me so very...pissed…when I'm bothered with such insolent fools that claim to be on Television…" he said, staring out at particularly nothing, "You have no idea how much I wanted to go out today and get a face lift…"

There was a knock at the door.

"Ahh you've returned." Trevor said over his shoulder. "What news have you brought me?"

"It's the BackStreet Boys Sir."

Trevor raised an eyebrow. "Really? Those Pop singers on Much Music Television? The…rather handsome blonde?"

"Nick Carter?" the man suggested.

"Right, well what business do they want with me?" Trevor was sweating now, fiddling with his pink bow tie.

"They said they've travelled very far to converse with you Sir, and…"

"And what?"

"They have really big guns."

"Guns?" Trevor remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Are they allowed to have really big guns?"

The man nodded, took a breath and continued. "There's another thing you won't be to pleased about, Sir…"

"What's that?"

"The blonde you mentioned? Well…he's got a JigglyPuff sitting on his shoulder."

Nobody got a chance to say anything next as the door broke down with a heavy thump. Trevor shrieked and ducked behind his desk. The fat man squealed like a pig and was abruptly squished beneath the spiked workbook of Nick Carter, who was dressed in leather.

He strode over confidently towards the desk, surrounded on all sides by recently waxed body guards with glistening chests who looked too tough for their own good. A small, terribly evil looking JigglyPuff was perched on his shoulder holding a microphone and sporting a spike collar.

"Jiggly!!"

"Trevor, I presume?"

"You sounded different on television." Said a tiny voice from behind the desk. "And you didn't look like this either…did you have machine guns too? I can't remember. Oh dear, I wouldn't get to close, you give me hives."

Nick sighed and took off his shades. "No. I only wear this when I go to church. I like to be prepared. Today was such a sunny day to go to church but then a thought struck me, A thought that maybe I should get to more important matters and seek you out, Trevor. As for giving you hives, well, we've never met."

Trevor stood and ruffled his collar. "Careful. I have distemper." He didn't like where the conversation was heading and was two seconds away from pulling a James Bond and blowing up the entire building with his magical exploding tie clip.

The guards eyed him like a rabid lemming waiting to pounce…

"Let me show you something." Nick said, taking out a huge black briefcase. He clicked the top open and Trevor gasped. Thunder clapped in the distance.

"I thought it was a sunny day." One of the bodyguards remarked quietly.

"I knew we should have brought umbrellas." The other replied.

"But you're to pig headed."

"The weather man said it was going to be sunny."

"He lies."

"If I ever find him, I'll skin him alive and dump him in rubbing alcohol."

"SILENCE!!!" Nick screamed.

They shut up and resumed staring angrily at nothing.

"It's my fault guys. Something dramatic and uncalled for always happens when I open this thing." Nick explained with some patience.

Trevor glanced at the case filled with wads of bills. "Is this for me?"

"If you agree to help us." Nick said, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

"Isn't being famous and worshipped much more satisfying than parading around with these guys?"

"Sometimes. But luckily for me it's a good day to be bad." He replied, "Now back to business, I understand you're an Agent??"

There was a huge close-up of his eyes. Thunder clapped again. An almost heated argument between the bodyguards started to begin. It stopped as Nick raised his hand.

"Am I right?"

Trevor almost wet himself for the second time that day. Damn! He'd been discovered!
He yanked nervously on his Wire Scouter â"¢ and almost pulled it from his ear.

"How'd you guess?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"It's really quite obvious, you realise." Nick said with a blink, "You've got a Wire Scouter â"¢"

Trevor laughed nervously. "Oh, of course! Where have you heard of me? I work among others…" he said, glancing at the ceiling, "You may have seen my work in parts of town."

Nick took a gander out the picture window. "I see."

"Central Park was quite fun. Only a few grenades and those damned black squirrels were finally dead."

Nick cleared his throat. "Do you have any…friends? Family? Co-workers?"

Trevor scowled. "I used to have a wife…Martha was her name. Yes…she was pretty and I loved her, but then one day she was `destroyed' by a bunch of blonde pre pubescent teens that sang pop and to say the very least, I admire your music more than there's."

"Hanson." Nick said. The two bodyguards shivered in fear at the very word.

"My god Mr.Jess…Hanson is loose in the world again."

"I thought we'd seen the last of them ages ago."

"I thought Master Nick had `rid' the world of them, I too, have been a fool."

"Gone are the days that we used to have dignity and self respect, my friend."

"Yes, it's sad."

"A truly sad day for humanity."

"Yes."

"Remember the time you let them borrow your Malibu Stacey® hairbrush?"

"We never did see it again, did we?"

"Lost to the very blonde harlots that are Hanson."

"I'm not a violent person, but I might just shove a door stop up their asses if I ever see them again."

"SILENCE!!!"

Elizabeth the guard silenced herself as well as Mr.Jess.

"Now…getting back to business…Trevor. When did these blonde harlots do away with Martha?"

"A while ago…a year, perhaps? Not that long…I think."

Nick narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. "Damn. I thought we killed them."

"Would have done us all a favour." Mr.Jess started.

"Silence!"

"Yes. They are truly annoying, we used to work with them. Until one day when they began to insult us, then we declared war." Nick explained.

"Here?"

"No you retard, in space. Come, we have much to talk about. Come aboard my ship and I'll introduce you to my crew members…we have some very fascinating secretaries that I'm sure you'd love to meet."

Trevor nodded.

"I do love to talk about War and the such." Nick said dreamily, gazing off into space, "but enough of mindless dreams. You say you had family?"

"No, I didn't. But I do have a son…I think."

"You think?"

"No, I know. His name was Vegita…bastard Sayajin prince with too much damned pride and too many muscles."

"Oh. I sympathise."

"Well, since I was the king and can do anything I want I shipped him off the planet...see, he was going to kill me, that was the plan, but I stopped him before he could. Damned idiot said something about `Sayajin Tradition'…"

"Where is he now?" Nick asked.

"I don't know. Last I heard aboard some ship called the SSJ_4 Majestic Tiger Lilly."

There was another clap of thunder. Trevor suddenly spun around.

"I can't do this! I can't leave Martha!" he whined.

"I thought she was dead."

"Um…yes. That was the issue. But I uh…fixed it."

"Listen Trevor, I'm tired and my feet hurt. I'm pissed off with all this damned talking and I wanna settle down to a nice steaming cup of battery acid. Now, I know you're a royal Agent but I happen to be Nick Carter and I can kick the pants of you so don't get me more pissed than I am and come along quietly." He nudged him hard with the point of his RCP90. The JigglyPuff nudged him with its microphone a bit more violently than intended. "JIGGLY!!"

Trevor stopped in his tracks.

"Whaddya gonna do about it? Sing?"

Somebody that no one knew had been in the room at the time made a low whistle. The Guards whimpered and gave Trevor looks of absolute fear. He had obviously just asked for the greatest threat of all time…as if hearing Nick Carter sing wasn't bad enough, hearing a JigglyPuff sing was like suicide.

"Oh. I see. I'll come along…just don't hurt Martha."

"I won't." Nick said, slipping an arm around his shoulder and leading him out of the room. "I won't."