Subject: [FFML] [Crossover][Short/Spamfic] The Hidden Perils of Marriage
From: "Brad Angell" <oddball22@hotmail.com>
Date: 9/22/2002, 10:14 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com


This is probably stupid, but I haven't sent anything to the FFML in awhile. 
Anyways, I hope it's something to gnaw on...


Send C&C to:  oddball22@hotmail.com
Find my stories at:  www.geocities.com/kaiphantom2000

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. But I wish I did!

Myserty Spamfic Crossover Theatre
The Perils Of Marriage



        "Hey buddy, you don't looks so well," the bartender remarked.

         Don't I know it, but I don't really care. If you only knew the
hell that my life has been... ever since... that day...

        "I'm fine," I reply, noticing that the bartender was still
hovering around, waiting for an answer.

         He shrugged. "Well, it's your business, but I was thinking that
your problems couldn't be that bad."

         I snort derisively. "Ha. My life is hell, mostly thanks to my
wife." For some unknown reason, I feel compelled to pull the picture out
of my wallet and toss it at the barkeep.

         He picks it up and whistles appreciatively, which I knew he
would. I had a similar reaction when I first met her, thinking she was
indeed very cute. But cute is not everything...

        "If you ask me, sir," the bartender said, handing back the
picture, "I'd say you were a lucky man."

        "Oh yeah, once upon a time I used to think looks were
everything, too," I say, staring into my drink. "But when I realized I
was engaged to her, it ceased to be entertaining. I felt trapped. Here I
was, a young man in high school, and suddenly I had a fiancee! I wasn't
ready for something like that! I still had my life ahead of me!"

         I look up slightly, to see the barkeep giving me a look of
sympathy with a little confusion. "How did you get a fiancee while you
were still in high school? Was it arranged or something?"

         I snort again. "Let's just say I didn't really have any say in
the matter. After I won that contest, she wouldn't leave me alone. Hell,
she considered us as good as married. Immense pain was in store for me
if I even tried to go after another girl."

         The look of sympathy on the barkeep's face increases. "Ah, the
possessive type, eh?" He pours me another drink. "Well, here. Have one
on the house. And well, at least she's a looker."

         I shudder. "You don't know what she was like when she was
younger." Just then, the alarm on my watch beeps, startling me so much I
nearly spill my drink. "Sorry, I gotta go." I don't wanna; I'm not drunk
enough.

        "Well, take care!" The barkeep calls as I stumble for the door.
"And try to cheer up! Life will get better!"




         As I walk home, I reflect on the barkeep's last words. "Life
will get better" Oh, how I wish it were true. But I have this sinking
feeling that it won't, and it has nothing to do with my wife.

         It has to do with our child.

        "I'm home," I call out weakly as I step through the door in our
home in Nerima.

         True to form, I'm glomped rather enthusiastically. "Darling!"

         I tentatively hug her back. "Hi honey."

         She kisses me with the same enthusiasm, and I do enjoy it. She
is rather attractive and lovey, after all. A shrill whistle comes from
the kitchen, and Lum zips back in there.

        "Dinner is almost ready!" she calls. "Ataru-darling, can you
feed the baby?"

         I shudder. No, not that! Calm yourself, Ataru. You can handle
this. Just... go in there and... feed him. You can handle the elelctric
shocks; after all, it's nothing worse that what your wife has hit you
with, right?

         I remember when the baby was first born. Lum told me that all
of her people initially start out looking that way, able to say only one
word, though they rapidly change after birth. However, our son has
stayed that way, and her people's scientist speculate it has something
to do my human genes.

         Somehow, though, I feel as if we have given birth to the anti-
Christ, as dicated in that weird Christian religion. This is the feeling
that I get whenever I look at... him. As if I've doomed the world.

         Gathering my courage, I open the door to the nursey and stalk
over to the crib, and behold the face of my son. he sees me and his face
lights up, and he says the only thing he can.

        "Pikachu!"




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