Tacky Yellow No Name 1
In the great void that was the heart of all time and space, two beings floated.
They were rather unimpressive creatures, small and weak- looking; insignificant lumps of flesh when compared to the glory of creation, a kaleidoscope of imagery all around them.
Above the wails of lost souls, the din of thousands of universes expanding and collapsing, a slight sound was audible. High and staccato, it passed from one being to another, a shrill and incessantly irritating noise.
The sound of bickering.
"I'm bored, dammit!"
"Look at stars blowing up - you liked that before."
"Yeah, but that's no good after the first six billion or so! Why the hell did you have to join *me*? Why couldn't you have wished for me to join *you*?"
"I should have wished myself to Acapulco, and let you rot by yourself!"
There was a pause; how long it lasted was impossible to say.
There was the sound of a sniffle.
"I'm sorry, snookums," said the second voice contritely.
"No," pouted "Snookums", "you're right. You would have been better off in Acapulco. This is all *my* fault."
"Well, yes, it is," agreed the other. "But I love you anyway."
"What do you mean, 'yes it is'?? You're supposed to disagree and say I'm not to blame!!"
"But you *are* to blame! If you hadn't held that silly grudge -"
"SILLY? Did you SEE what that bastard did to me?"
"- and if you'd followed orders, we wouldn't be stuck *here*!"
Just then, the space around them shifted.
Vast power swirled, a sprinkling of starlight and divinity.
"What's going on?"
"Don't be scared - I'm with you!"
"Who's scared? Anything's gotta be better than *this*!"
Colours roiled sickeningly around them, a whirling tunnel of light that twisted faster and faster, clashing with an ever- blurring crescendo of sound, whirling the two helpless beings over and over until FINALLY -
The universe burped.
The two beings, one notably smaller than the other, appeared unnoticed on an empty street corner in downtown Tokyo, and glanced around themselves with wide eyes.
The smaller of the two swore.
The taller - a man, it could now be seen, who wore a tattered uniform and had shoulder-length whitish hair - raised his fists to the clear starry sky. "Take us back!" he yelled angrily.
"Man," said Zoisite, kicking at a pebble, "I *hate* Earth."
Malachite snarled.
****
Serena was bored. No one was around to hang out with. Andrew wasn't even working at the arcade. She didn't have the cash to buy any food, and she certainly wasn't going to go home and study.
There was only one thing left to do.
Serena looked left and right; the street was still utterly and completely empty.
The wind whistled through the streets.
Taking off her shoe, Serena tossed it over her head.
"Ouch!" yelled Darien angrily.
She smirked. It never failed. Wiping the smug expression off her face, she turned with an innocent smile.
"OUCH!" yelled Darien again as her freakishly long pigtail smacked him in the face. "Watch it, wouldja?"
She batted her lashes at the tall young man who was holding her shoe and rubbing at his head.
"Sorry, Cuddle-muffin, I didn't see you there," Serena giggled. "Hey, are we a couple today?"
Darien tossed Serena's shoe back to her and paused, thinking. "Gimme a sec."
Turning his back to Serena, he hunched over and appeared to take something out of his pocket. She thought she caught some barely audible words as he mumbled... "Heads I.....tails.. ..don't..."
"Darien?" Serena craned her neck to see what he was doing.
Whipping around and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Darien looked vaguely shifty before recovering control of his face and smiling charmingly. His teeth twinkled in the sunlight. "Yes, my sweet? Of course we're a couple - how could you ever doubt my sincerity?"
Serena frowned. "Gee, can I trust you? I mean, you dumped me three times only yesterday."
He shrugged, still smiling his patented Hunk Charming Deluxe (TM).
Big hearts appeared in front of Serena's eyes as she tossed common sense out the window. "OK, Muffin, I believe you! Let's go do something gushy and romantic!"
Serena squinted as Darien nodded his assent - the light from his teeth was almost blinding. "And you can stop smiling now. I, as usual, forgive every mean thing you've ever done to me."
Happily, she attached herself to his arm and the two of them set off down the street.
"So..." began Darien, "what exactly are we doing?"
Serena shrugged. "I dunno, what do you want to do?"
Darien frowned. "This is a really dull fanfic."
"Yep. The author's probably tired." Serena looked vaguely hopeful. "Maybe it'll pick up soon!"
Several moments passed.
"Maybe it would help if there were more people around?" suggested Darien finally.
As if by magic, the street was suddenly filled with bustling crowds going about their business.
Several more moments passed; the two stood in the street as the flow of humanity parted around them.
"This sucks," pouted Serena.
Just then, a tall man wearing a Wal-Mart uniform bumped into them.
"Oh...excuse me," he muttered, flipping back long white hair, "I'm late for work." Brushing by the couple, he continued on his way, shoulders hunched.
"What a nice man," commented Serena cheerily.
Darien frowned. "Don't we know him from somewhere?"
"Oh? Like where? I'm pretty sure he wasn't in any of my classes last year."
"No..." Within Darien's mind, tiny gears clicked. This was not a metaphor - as a consequence of his early childhood head trauma, much of his grey matter had been replaced with spare parts from a pinball machine. For the most part, it worked OK, although it had proven ridiculously easy to reprogram in the past.
(*Historian's note: It is impossible to say whether Darien's mental aberrances were a result of inevitable mechanical failure, or whether Serena's continuous stream of thrown objects contributed to this problem.)
At any rate, Darien stared after the retreating Wal-Mart uniform, thinking hard.
But it was Darien's tragic disability that, somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain, a small part was broken.
Darien was unable to compare hairstyles.
Gazing hard at the shoulder-length whitish hair making its way up the street, he shrugged.
"Never mind."
"Whatever you say, Muffin," Serena said, her brain already racing ahead to what might be in store for them that day. With any luck, the author would write a chocolate fudge sundae into the story and she would soon be in sugar-high heaven. As if on cue Darien grabbed Serena's hand and began running with her down the street, a move which never failed to make her picture him as Tuxedo Mask.
"Come on, Meatball Head," he laughed, "I'll buy you a sundae."
Serena smiled and dashed along after him. Darien was hers (at least for the moment) and she was going to get her chocolate hit for the day. Not a bad start in her books. Maybe this fanfic wasn't going to be so dull after all.
****
Somewhere in the darkest recesses of the universe, evil stirred and awoke.
"Yawwwnnn.....yeesh, how long have I been out of it?"
"A couple of years now. I *told* you not to take that extra-drowsy formula for your sinus cold."
"Oh, shut up. I feel like the universe collapsed on me."
"Well, uuuhhhhh.......technically, it did."
"Huh?"
"Beryl was destroyed by the Sailor Scouts, along with the rest of the Negaverse."
"What?????"
"I SAID....BERYL WAS DES....."
Slap.
"I heard you, stupid. I just can't believe it, that's all."
"Well, believe it or not, the bottom line is that we're on our own now. Free agents."
"...but my CD collection...."
"It is time for us to move forth to forge a new life for ourselves."
"....and all those Star Trek episodes......it took me forever to tape them all..."
"Are you listening to me at *all*?"
"Hunh?"
"Never mind."
"So what do we do now?"
"Not to worry, my dear. It turns out that some old "friends" of ours have also survived Queen Beryl's destruction. I think we should look them up." A translucent image floated before the two survivors, illuminating them slightly. The third sat off to one side, aware of the conversation but not participating.
"Them???"
"No, Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. Of course "them"."
"But where are they? How will we find them?"
"Well, I've managed to pinpoint their general location. It seems that they've ended up back on Earth...."
"How ironic."
"Yes.......well, anyway, now that we know which planet they're on it should be a piece of cake to track them down."
"Exactly! How hard could it be? It's a small world, after all."
Maniacal laughter echoed throughout the universe, boding ill for the inhabitants of planet Earth once again.
****
The day was not turning out to be a good one for Malachite and he longed to stretch the cramped muscles in his back. This was not to be, however, for he was, at the time, involved in vainly trying to calm an irate and ample woman who was currently demanding a refund. Malachite groaned inwardly. It was like dealing with Queen Beryl, magnified by about 2000 times.
'At least in the Negaverse I didn't have to worry about chronic back pain,' he grumbled inwardly. He wondered if Zoisite had made an appointment with the chiropractor. Maybe if his back problems were bad enough he could get unemployment or worker's compensation or something. If only he could have found a job where he could use his powers without being noticed....
"YOUNG MAN!!!" The woman's voice cut through him like a knife. He barely resisted the urge to pin her against the wall with a force blast. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes ma'am," he said in his well-practised, "humble and apologetic" tone of voice. "But I've already told you, we don't give refunds on items which have been mangled after purchase."
"I'll have you know, it was like this when I got it!"
"I find that very difficult to believe considering that the package is clear." Malachite was beginning to lose patience.
"Are you calling me a liar?!," the woman asked incredulously. Her round face swiftly reddened with rage. The ex-general idly wondered if the customer would explode when her face and hair colour matched each other.
"No, I'm saying that I can't believe that you'd be stupid enough to buy something which you should have noticed was damaged from the start."
"WELL!!!! I NEVER!!!" The customer snatched her package off the counter. "The manager will be hearing about this, believe you me!" She turned on her heel and stormed away from Malachite. He ducked as the package the woman was carrying swung past his face with considerable force and consequently was smacked in the back of the head by her purse which followed close behind. Malachite sighed as he listened to the lady's voice fade in the direction of the manager's office. He was going to have to brush up on his public relations skills if he was going to keep this job.
Off to one side the scene was witnessed by two familiar faces.
The shorter of the two was holding an armful of textbooks while the other was making fast work of a chocolate milkshake.
"Do we know that guy?," the first girl asked, re-adjusting her load and shaking a few strands of blue hair out of her eyes. She watched the white-haired (or maybe it was pale green. She couldn't tell with fluorescent lighting) employee massage the back of his head. There was something about him....
"Which guy, Ami?" The taller, dark-haired girl turned and looked where her companion was trying to point.
"That guy there, Lita.....The one wearing the Wal-Mart uniform."
Lita gave her friend a flat look due to the fact that there were over half a dozen guys wearing Wal-Mart uniforms in that general area.
"Uh, would you mind being a little more specific?"
"The one with the shoulder-length, whitish hair."
"You mean the one at checkout four?"
"No, the *other* guy with shoulder length, white hair." Ami rolled her eyes.
"You mean there's another one?" Lita asked, quickly looking around. Ami sighed heavily and a sweat drop appeared on her forehead.
"Never mind," Ami said. "Just take another look."
Lita peered carefully at the young man who was now getting chewed out by his manager for insulting the customers. Suddenly, all of the pieces clicked together.
"Of course!" Lita exclaimed.
"You know who he is?" Ami asked, amazed.
"Oh, no....of course not," Lita said, giving Ami a strange look.
"Then why do you think we know him?"
"Because he looks just like my old boyfriend!"
"WHAT?!!?"
"Don't you see it? That hair....those eyes...." Lita grew starry-eyed as Ami dragged her out of the store by one arm.
"Give me strength!"
****
Raye and Mina were playing tennis. There was no particular reason for them to be playing tennis, except for the fact that they needed to be doing something in order to be introduced to the story.
Mina, hitting the ball with a thwack (or rather, with her racket), frowned. She sensed another bit part coming on - she *always* ended up with the supporting roles. It wasn't fair!
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost missed Raye's returning shot.
No, check that. She *did* miss Raye's returning shot. The ball bounced off the chain links at the back of the court with a metallic twanging sound, managing a few pathetic bounces before rolling off into the corner.
Mina stood in the middle of her side of the court, the frown still plastered across her features.
Raye, being the spiritual person she was, noticed after several minutes that the ball had not been returned. Eyeing Mina, she noted also that her friend's bottom lip was almost hitting the ground.
"Erm..." she ventured finally, using all of her finely-honed talents for reading the people around her, "is something wrong?"
Mina scowled. "How come I never get a lead role? No one ever notices me! I don't even get a trademark personality characteristic - I just get to be the "nice" one. What kind of role is that?"
Raye looked puzzled. "But you do have a trademark! You're the pretty one!"
"Gee," replied Mina sarcastically, "we all have such different faces and figures, how could I possibly have missed it?"
Raye smiled. "There, you see? Now go get that ball and let's play some more!"
Mina picked up the ball, her back turned to Raye so that the black-haired girl couldn't see the sudden flash of determination in her eyes. In this fic, she was *going* to get noticed!
For no other reason than to promote story continuity, Raye's eyes were suddenly drawn to the screaming-green sports car speeding down the street past the courts. A tantalizingly familiar laugh echoed through the air.
****
Zoisite smiled for pure delight as he pulled his new car into the driveway of their small, dingy, rented abode. His grin quickly changed to a pout as he surveyed the crumbling brick closet that was cleverly disguised as some sort of house. He was really going to have to speak to Malachite about their living conditions. This place was so horrible, even Beryl could never have thought it up.
The ex-general shrugged. No need to ruin his entire day over it - he'd talk to Malachite and they'd move. No problems!
Whistling, Zoisite removed his shopping bags from the back seat and strode up the cracked walkway. After a well-placed kick at the door, he walked into the sparsely furnished living room and dropped his purchases, hurling a nasty little anti-theft spell at the car before closing the door.
With a disdainful glance at the moth-eaten couch and threadbare carpet, Zoisite reached down for the bag marked "Fabricland". Might as well get some work done before the delivery trucks arrived.
Putting his new Arrogant Worms CD into the CD player he'd bought the day before, Zoisite sang along. "Put it on credit and then forget it, don't let it bother you no more no more..."
This was going to be *fun*.
