Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Yohji Kudou, International Man of Parody ❯ Meet the bad guys ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Title: Yohji Kudou, International Man of Parody

Author: Ann

Rating: R. Yaoi, baby, yeah! Foul language, violence, sexual imagery of the m/m variety.

Pairings: It would spoil the fun to tell you; from the title, you can assume Yohji gets some. Male/male situations, though mostly implied. Be adult or be gone.

Notes: Parody of the Austin Powers films and of Weiss Kreuz. Austin Powers characters belong to the very funny Mike Myers, Michael McCullers and New Line Cinema. Weiss Kreuz characters belong to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss. This is fan fiction, and no profit is made from this endeavor. Parody is a long-standing, protected form of free speech.

## - Indicates telepathic speech

// - Encases song lyrics

Warnings: Bizarre and lame humor. OCC? Of course! Character bashing? Yes, but just in fun... well, mostly. ::snickers:: Character deaths, bad language, bad puns, just... bad.

Feedback: Feedback would be greatly appreciated at Ann89103@lvcm.com.

Archive: Ask and you shall receive.

***

Everyone faces pivotal moments in life; the choices made directing the flow of events into one, decisive path, for good or for ill.

At times like this, Brad Evil just *knew* he should have gone into dentistry, instead of becoming the preeminent villain alive. His precognitive powers never warned him about *this*.

"I want to kill him!"

"No, this one's mine! You killed the last four Kritiker agents!"

As a dentist, he'd certainly get more respect.

"I'm on a roll. Plus, if I terminate six more agents this week, I'm sure to be named Assassin of the Month. I've worked hard for the honor, damn ye!"

"Ass of the Month, maybe. Assassin? Not hardly, you pathetic lunatic!"

As a dentist, the patients would follow his instructions without hesitation. After all, you don't argue with a man holding sharp metal tools and powerful drills in the vicinity of sensitive nerve endings, right?

"Step closer and say that, ye sour-faced transvestite!"

"Up yours, you catnip-sniffing leprechaun!"

As a dentist, he'd have nurses... young, nubile nurses of both genders, and they'd watch his every move with adoration, shower him with all the acclaim he deserved.

"Fake redhead!"

"Bleach blond!"

And as a dentist, he'd never, *never* have to deal with psychotic henchmen that have the mental acuity of pre-schoolers on crack.

Oh well. Time to show these idiots who's in charge.

"Stop this fi--"

"Katana-wielding iceberg!"

"Knife-licking psychopath!"

"Oh... hey, thanks!"

"ENOUGH!" Brad shouted, "Stop this stupid argument!"

Both henchmen turned to face their boss, ready to argue the point. The laser guns aimed at each man's private parts convinced them stay silent. Instead, they took their seats at the conference table.

Brad couldn't contain his small but triumphant smile. Sometimes being a villain sucked, but then again, dentists didn't have laser guns. Dentists weren't allowed to terrorize more than one person at a time. And as he watched the last of his henchmen enter the meeting room, he was completely convinced of one last thing: no dentist, no matter how despicable, could ever rule the world.

But Brad Evil would.

***

Ken hated meetings. He hated his co-workers. He hated his boss. He hated meetings with his co-workers and his boss.

And he really, really hated it when that twisted, snotty munchkin humped his leg during these meetings.

In a swift move, Ken kicked out his right leg, sending the little terror flying across the room like a soccer ball, straight into the opposite wall. The munchkin let out a high-pitched squeak at the impact, then slowly slid down to the floor.

Ken felt an immense surge of satisfaction at the sight, but it slowly faded as he took in the dark glare from his boss as he raced to the injured agent.

"Are you okay, Mini (Na)gi? Did the bad man hurt you?"

A tiny "Eee!" was the only response. Ken wanted to hurl as he watched Brad Evil cater to the youngster, carrying him back to the conference table and ruffling the boy's short dark hair as he moved.

"My poor Mini (Na)gi. Would you like a blanket? Hot Pocket? Ice pack? Belgian chocolate?"

Five minutes later, after the teenager was munching away happily on a chocolate-covered Hot Pocket, wrapped in blankets and with an ice pack perched at an awkward angle on his head, Brad Evil was ready to start the meeting. The look on Brad's face could only be described as... evil.

Someone was going to die. Of course, someone usually did at Brad Evil's meetings. The man had an image to maintain, after all. Luckily for Ken, they had the most recently caught Kritiker agent there, strapped into a conference chair directly opposite Ken's seat. The agent was even wearing a long-sleeved red polyester shirt, similar to the ones worn by security agents on "Star Trek."

He was sooo going to die. And Ken, Number Two, would be safe once again.

He just *hated* these meetings!

Ken's attention was drawn back to the meeting as Brad Evil began to speak.

"I have called you all here to go over my latest, foolproof plan to take over the world."

Ken barely contained his snort of derision. Here we go again...

"As you know, the World Cup is taking place this year, with the final matches taking place in Japan. The remaining teams playing are from Brazil, Turkey, South Korea and Germany. We will kidnap the various players and hold them for ransom. The resulting uproar and panic among the populace will destabilize governments, enabling our forces to take control across the globe."

Ken was outraged. Putting aside the fact that Brad's latest plan wasn't as lame as past efforts, he was still plotting against the one thing in life Ken still held sacred.

No one, but no one, threatened soccer!

Ken barely heard Brad Evil as he continued, "With four teams remaining, I will send my best henchmen to deal with each team. Cat Bastard, Frau Abyssinian and Mini (Na)gi will deal with Brazil, Turkey and South Korea. The newest addition to our group will take care of the German members."

Brad was interrupted by the sputtering laughter coming from Mini (Na)gi, who was spraying chocolate-laced spittle across the table. Irritated, Brad turned to his tiniest assassin. "Something funny, Mini (Na)gi?"

Mini (Na)gi's shook his head in a furious 'no' motion, changing his facial expression to mirror Brad's. His eyes gleamed malevolently, he set his mouth to a tight, sour line, and he pulled a matching pair of spectacles out of his cream suit jacket Once set upon his face, he became a minuscule image of their fearful boss.

"Riiiight," Brad drawled, "as I was saying, my most valued minions will take care of each team. The rest of you are... disposable."

Now Ken was eager for the meeting to end. Time for Brad to kill the insignificant character and finish the meeting. Then Ken would take care of business. He'd had enough of being Number Two all the time. Oh, no, he was going to kill Brad Evil and take over.

He'd be Number One now. What a relief!

Ken watched as Brad Evil pressed one of the pretty red buttons set into his chair's armrest. He listened as gears shifted beneath the conference table. His body vibrated with the movement of a chair tipping back, close to sending the hapless victim to a painful death.

Wait a minute... that was *his* chair moving! But before he could take action, it was too late. His body was plummeting down the narrow porcelain shaft that had opened beneath his chair.

With a faint, "Whaa--," Number Two disappeared down the drain.

Both Brad Evil and Mini (Na)gi spoke at the same time, Brad's deep voice a vivid contrast to Mini (Na)gi's higher pitched tone. But both voices contained the same level of contempt.

"What a moron."

***
End part two