Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Yohji Kudou, International Man of Parody ❯ More Schwarz madness ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Ann H 
The meeting continues... what other madness is in store?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Comedy | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 11.15.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 538 | Status: Work In Progress
The meeting continues... what other madness is in store?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Comedy | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 11.15.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 538 | Status: Work In Progress
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.
***
If anyone at the table expected Frau Abyssinian to be upset at his sometimes-lover's death, they would be sorely disappointed. While Ken had been cute, and rather sweet in a dumb-as-a-rock kind of way, he was too stubborn, too set in his ways for the assassin's comfort.
Frau/Ran Abyssinian valued control and power above all things. He'd never established complete dominance over the discarded Number Two, and he'd certainly wouldn't be able to do so with the remaining villains at the table.
He casually studied the others. Brad Evil was prattling on about his plans, basking in the afterglow of another death. Mini (Na)gi was mirroring every gesture, every facial expression of Brad's, rather like a demented mime.
Well, that was a silly thought; *all* mimes are demented, as is the assassin sitting next to him.
Cold amethyst eyes studied his rival's single gold, unblinking eye. Ran knew he'd never be able to control Farfarello, the Cat Bastard. As Ran sized up the Irish psychopath, one of the man's white kittens jumped upon the man's left shoulder, nuzzling at the leather eyepatch the man wore and the nearby scars. Farfarello smiled at his kitten, one of his rare, real smiles: he was only truly happy with his kittens and his killing, not necessarily in that order.
When Farfarello spoke, it was almost a purr, "Killing Kritiker agents hurts Dog. Let me play with this one, Brad."
Ran knew the hapless agent was hoping to be forgotten, ignored, which just wasn't going to happen: no-one ever escaped the curse of the red security shirt. But he was *Ran's* kill, dammit!
Using his huskiest, most sensual voice, shifting from Ran to Frau momentarily, Frau Abyssinian addressed his boss, "Let me take care of this, Doctor Evil... I so love to kill."
Brad Evil glared at him, dark eyes flashing behind wire-rimmed glasses. "For the last frickin' time, I am *not* a Doctor. I just play one on TV."
The room fell deathly silent. Brad shifted uncomfortably in his chair; after a few moments, he sheepishly confessed, "I always wanted to say that."
Everyone at the table broke out in laughter; forced, faked laughter, far louder than necessary, even the Kritiker agent. After all, you don't piss off the madman with the bright red buttons of destruction at his fingertips.
As the laughter faded, Brad turned to the agent sitting to his left. "Maybe you would like the honor, Schuldig. After all, you are new to our group. The first time is always... special."
Frau Abyssinian frowned. If it was the first time for that German slut, he'd eat his katana!
"No, my Evil Mann, let your pets play. Sometimes it's nice to watch." With that, the German tossed his head back, sending thick locks of red-orange hair flying, a few of which whispered across Brad's left cheek.
The meeting again fell quiet, this time as Brad Evil openly drooled over his latest agent.
Schuldig grinned merrily.
Cat Bastard petted his kitten with one hand, and ran a sharp blade over the conference table with the other.
Mini (Na)gi was humping the Kritiker agent's leg.
Frau Abyssinian switched back into Ran mode. "You have not seen my latest toys, Brad Evil. I will use them to capture the Turkish players." It was quite the contrast between those quiet words and the harsh screech that followed:
"Bring in the KENBOTS!!!"
A door opened, and three men raced in. All three had short dark brown hair, with messy bangs partially covering sweet chocolate brown eyes. All three exhibited muscular bodies, nicely developed in all the *right* places . All three were exact replicas of the not-dearly departed Number Two. All three men wore a soccer uniforms and each carried a soccer ball.
"Shit! Now there's *three* of them! Haven't we suffered enough?" was Cat Bastard's dismayed response.
Frau Abyssinian glared at his rival, then rose out of his seat. He untied, then dragged the anonymous Kritiker agent away from the table, shoving him against a wall. The three Ken replicas faced the agent, standing fifty feet away. Each Kenbot started practicing their soccer skills, using feet, knees and head to keep the soccer balls in motion: their movements started out at a normal pace, but soon speed up to an unnatural pace.
Once Frau Abyssinian was sure all eyes were on his toys, he issued the order: "Kill!"
With deadly precision, each Kenbot shot their soccer balls at the doomed man: one at the head, one at the midsection, and one another six inches below that. At impact, the soccer balls exploded, leaving a very messy, very dead Kritiker agent.
Schuldig muttered to Brad, "That's gotta hurt."
Brad Evil covered his private parts, as did Mini (Na)gi.
Cat Bastard stared, fascinated, at the bloody remains, and let out a whistle of appreciation. "Kenbots hurt Dog."
"Very nice, Frau Abyssinian," said Brad Evil, "I'm impressed. But now it's time for some real work. I expect those soccer players captured in less than a week. Get to it!"
Brad watched as his four henchmen, followed by the Kenbots, headed to the door. He was impressed with his evil plans; he was impressed with his agent's capacity for violence; he was especially impressed with the sway of Schuldig's ass in those tight vinyl pants.
In an instant, Brad was out the door, calling out, "Schuldig, before you leave, we have things to discuss privately. Come with me."
Mini (Na)gi let loose with another set of giggles, which gradually faded as all the villains got on with their business. No one was left in the conference room to hear the faint pounding sounds, nor the faded, pained voice.
"Help! I'm still here! Anyone? Anyone? I think I may have cracked ribs... and my right arm seems to be missing. Could you toss me some aspirin? Or maybe a tourniquet?"
***
End part three
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.
***
If anyone at the table expected Frau Abyssinian to be upset at his sometimes-lover's death, they would be sorely disappointed. While Ken had been cute, and rather sweet in a dumb-as-a-rock kind of way, he was too stubborn, too set in his ways for the assassin's comfort.
Frau/Ran Abyssinian valued control and power above all things. He'd never established complete dominance over the discarded Number Two, and he'd certainly wouldn't be able to do so with the remaining villains at the table.
He casually studied the others. Brad Evil was prattling on about his plans, basking in the afterglow of another death. Mini (Na)gi was mirroring every gesture, every facial expression of Brad's, rather like a demented mime.
Well, that was a silly thought; *all* mimes are demented, as is the assassin sitting next to him.
Cold amethyst eyes studied his rival's single gold, unblinking eye. Ran knew he'd never be able to control Farfarello, the Cat Bastard. As Ran sized up the Irish psychopath, one of the man's white kittens jumped upon the man's left shoulder, nuzzling at the leather eyepatch the man wore and the nearby scars. Farfarello smiled at his kitten, one of his rare, real smiles: he was only truly happy with his kittens and his killing, not necessarily in that order.
When Farfarello spoke, it was almost a purr, "Killing Kritiker agents hurts Dog. Let me play with this one, Brad."
Ran knew the hapless agent was hoping to be forgotten, ignored, which just wasn't going to happen: no-one ever escaped the curse of the red security shirt. But he was *Ran's* kill, dammit!
Using his huskiest, most sensual voice, shifting from Ran to Frau momentarily, Frau Abyssinian addressed his boss, "Let me take care of this, Doctor Evil... I so love to kill."
Brad Evil glared at him, dark eyes flashing behind wire-rimmed glasses. "For the last frickin' time, I am *not* a Doctor. I just play one on TV."
The room fell deathly silent. Brad shifted uncomfortably in his chair; after a few moments, he sheepishly confessed, "I always wanted to say that."
Everyone at the table broke out in laughter; forced, faked laughter, far louder than necessary, even the Kritiker agent. After all, you don't piss off the madman with the bright red buttons of destruction at his fingertips.
As the laughter faded, Brad turned to the agent sitting to his left. "Maybe you would like the honor, Schuldig. After all, you are new to our group. The first time is always... special."
Frau Abyssinian frowned. If it was the first time for that German slut, he'd eat his katana!
"No, my Evil Mann, let your pets play. Sometimes it's nice to watch." With that, the German tossed his head back, sending thick locks of red-orange hair flying, a few of which whispered across Brad's left cheek.
The meeting again fell quiet, this time as Brad Evil openly drooled over his latest agent.
Schuldig grinned merrily.
Cat Bastard petted his kitten with one hand, and ran a sharp blade over the conference table with the other.
Mini (Na)gi was humping the Kritiker agent's leg.
Frau Abyssinian switched back into Ran mode. "You have not seen my latest toys, Brad Evil. I will use them to capture the Turkish players." It was quite the contrast between those quiet words and the harsh screech that followed:
"Bring in the KENBOTS!!!"
A door opened, and three men raced in. All three had short dark brown hair, with messy bangs partially covering sweet chocolate brown eyes. All three exhibited muscular bodies, nicely developed in all the *right* places . All three were exact replicas of the not-dearly departed Number Two. All three men wore a soccer uniforms and each carried a soccer ball.
"Shit! Now there's *three* of them! Haven't we suffered enough?" was Cat Bastard's dismayed response.
Frau Abyssinian glared at his rival, then rose out of his seat. He untied, then dragged the anonymous Kritiker agent away from the table, shoving him against a wall. The three Ken replicas faced the agent, standing fifty feet away. Each Kenbot started practicing their soccer skills, using feet, knees and head to keep the soccer balls in motion: their movements started out at a normal pace, but soon speed up to an unnatural pace.
Once Frau Abyssinian was sure all eyes were on his toys, he issued the order: "Kill!"
With deadly precision, each Kenbot shot their soccer balls at the doomed man: one at the head, one at the midsection, and one another six inches below that. At impact, the soccer balls exploded, leaving a very messy, very dead Kritiker agent.
Schuldig muttered to Brad, "That's gotta hurt."
Brad Evil covered his private parts, as did Mini (Na)gi.
Cat Bastard stared, fascinated, at the bloody remains, and let out a whistle of appreciation. "Kenbots hurt Dog."
"Very nice, Frau Abyssinian," said Brad Evil, "I'm impressed. But now it's time for some real work. I expect those soccer players captured in less than a week. Get to it!"
Brad watched as his four henchmen, followed by the Kenbots, headed to the door. He was impressed with his evil plans; he was impressed with his agent's capacity for violence; he was especially impressed with the sway of Schuldig's ass in those tight vinyl pants.
In an instant, Brad was out the door, calling out, "Schuldig, before you leave, we have things to discuss privately. Come with me."
Mini (Na)gi let loose with another set of giggles, which gradually faded as all the villains got on with their business. No one was left in the conference room to hear the faint pounding sounds, nor the faded, pained voice.
"Help! I'm still here! Anyone? Anyone? I think I may have cracked ribs... and my right arm seems to be missing. Could you toss me some aspirin? Or maybe a tourniquet?"
***
End part three