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 7

CHAPTER 7: THE TRUE FACE OF EVIL

Nick leaned before the altar on one knee and stared up at the red ball of flame.

"The chosen one is here." He began, tugging impatiently at the side of his long bluish robes.

Yes, Nick Carter was wearing a dress. It was a dress much like queen Beryl's, in fact, it was her dress.

(There was a short and pointless scene of Queen Beryl's legs sticking out of a Dumpster. A man walked by, took a swing of his sake, and continued on)

The great ball of flame crackled and hummed with it's own magnificence. Should it choose to answer the remark, or simply sit and display its awesome power for knowing all, Nick would have to wait.

Nick didn't feel like waiting. He'd heard that some had waited for seven years and eight months and exactly 12 minuets until the ball of flame would heave a great sigh and say something totally irrelevant to the question.

"I'm in a generous mood, my minion. I feel the need to answer what you have told me." It said at last.

Nick brightened at this. "I need to know lots of things…why do postage stamps taste so delicious? Who is my greatest fan? Is Howie Gay? I've always wondered…"

"ENOUGH!" The flame screamed, convulsing horribly. It resumed it's hissing and crackling after a pause. "Please don't do that again. Brain overload, you see."

After a pause he continued his assault on the Flames dignity.

"Is big bird real? Or is it just some guy in a suit?"

The flame drew in a great sigh. Nick often wondered how it managed this, anyhow. It was, really, just a really big ball of flame that spit and spewed things like burnt cats and old tire springs and at times something completely different, and for some reason, nobody knew, but it functioned like a human would. And it knew everything. But it was a bitch of a flame, sometimes it would just make people sit in the heated room for hours, years, decades, just so they would realise how much power it held. But then the satisfaction would be lost when it realised that most of them were dead before the end of the wait…

"Big Bird, my son, is nothing more than a cheap commercialised figment of your pathetic imagination and really, has no point in life as but to annoy you. Though you found he gave you great pleasure in his antics that I wouldn't deem a three year old worthy, it's only some obese guy on welfare in a big suit that's paid to make children laugh."

Nick cringed. "Thank you, Anne. Although this was a rare moment in our conversations when you decided not to kill me, I think I'll depart to my chambers for the remainder of the evening just to be on the safe side."

"I'm not done with you yet."

"What do you want from me?"

Anne turned once more and fixed her one abnormally black swirling ball of energy that served as an eyeball on him. "You did get the chosen one, I hope?"

"You mean Trevor?" Nick inquired.

"Yes!" she hissed loudly. "Is he ready for his training?"

"I…suppose so."

"Good. Bring him to me then."

Nick pulled out a golden harp and disappeared in a shower of cherry petals.

Theodore took advantage of the SSJ4_Majestic Tiger Lilly's rest stop to take a gander around the ship.

It had been a week since they'd picked up Tsubasa from the streets of the small village. He idly wondered if they'd picked up anyone new since his arrival.

Jessie would know, if anyone. Jessie knew everything that went on around the ship; he knew about things like how Captain Zelgadis wore bright red naughty underwear and…well, that's not important.

Before he realised it, he'd come to a stop at Jessie's threshold. He knocked quietly on the door.

"Jessie! It's Theodore! I have some questions and I want answers!"

The bright red ball cap of Jessie's that was usually backwards came into view. The door opened after an amazing display of a thousand calculations and annoying beeping noises that would give any normal being a headache from hell. But Theodore wasn't normal. He was a hardcore rock and roll Chipmunk from Asia. Some part in his brain protected him from loud noises.

"What do you want to know?" Jessie asked, a nail file in one hand and a cup of battery acid in the other.

"Why do you drink that stuff?"

"Augh. Trivial questions all of them. It's just for colour, my little fuzzy petunia. Now what is your other question?"

Theodore resented being called; `A fuzzy Petunia.' But word had it that Jessie was really gay. He was really strange; he always wore the same T-shirt. It said; I'm with stupid. Everyone always wondered who `stupid' was, since nobody ever hung out with him. Well, Trivial, as he'd said.

"Any new passengers?" he finally brought himself to ask.

"One." Jessie replied, filing his nails furiously.

"And…?"

He leaned forward in his lazy-boy and raised an eyebrow.

"You mean to tell me you don't know the rest?"

"The rest…?"

"One is the only number that you'll ever need-"

"SHUT UP!"

Jessie fell silent.

"Nobody appreciates me around here. You're just jealous you don't sound like a chirping Robin, and that you don't have the breasts of one!"

"Um, Jessie…"

"You're not worthy to have the breasts of a Robin! Now leave me be, I need to get a Frammishtinni for my 54 Chevy."

Theodore left promptly before the scene got graphic.