"Oh boy oh boy," muttered Shana Illudin as she flopped down on her trusty
sofa, popcorn in hand, ready for an evening of MST. Then she noticed two
things:
Firstly, the fic the Fic Gods had chosen to give her that evening was a
lemon.
Secondly, there was a note on the sofa. "Dear Shana, we're on vacation.
We'll send you a postcard and a T-shirt. Love, Haruka and Michiru."
"Great! Just &^%$ great," groused Shana as she paced around trying to
figure out something to do about this unexpected development. Then an idea
hit her little pink head, and she pulled out the phone book. She flipped
through it a bit, went "Aha!" and dialed the phone.
"Yes, is this Rent-A-Reviewer? I'd like two, please. What series? I don't
care...it's a lemon, though, don't send me Chibi-Usa or something...great,
thanks." Almost immediately after she hung up, a blue portal opened in the
air above the sofa and two figures dropped onto it.
One was a man dressed mostly in red, with a long cape to match, and a
metallic claw where his left hand should have been. The other wore the
traditional pilot's garb, complete with a pack of cigarettes tucked in the
headband of his goggles. He did not appear too pleased to be there.
"What the hell--" the pilot started, looking around him quickly.
"It would appear that we've been...drafted to help review a fanfic. A lemon
no less." The guy in the cape looked at Shana and bowed his head. "Hello."
"H-hi," Shana stammered, scooting towards the far end of the sofa. The
pilot didn't seen to notice her yet.
"Drafted!? They can't @#!&% do that! ...can they?"
The man in red shrugged, then produced from one of the folds of his cape a
small book, which he opened to a page and handed to the pilot. "Apparently
they can. It's in the Anime Characters' Union charter."
The pilot read over the page and shook his head. "Goddamn fine print...I
TOLD Cloud, 'Don't sign anything before you read it!' 'Oh, sure, Cid, I
read EVERYTHING...' My ass--"
"Cid...there is a lady present..." The man in red gestured to Shana, who
sat quaking in fear on the far end of the sofa.
"Whoops...heh heh...sorry." The pilot grinned sheepishly. "Cid Highwind.
He's Vincent Valentine. Good to meet you."
"Let's just start the fic, okay?" A very nervous Shana stood up and pressed
the "play" button...
----------
From: Jusenkyo Guide <jusenkyoguide@hotmail.com>
To: fanfic@fanfic.com
Subject: [FFML] [FF][LEMON]Priss and Leon
Date: Thursday, January 15, 1998 1:36 PM
Nihao!
This is the product of a very, very, very weird phone conversation. My
apologies to all concerned.
Cid: Oh boy...lemon...phone conversation...those two words in the same
sentence give me the willies already...(lights a cigarette and puts his
feet up on Shana's coffee table)
Shana: (cough....cough) I beg your pardon, sir...
Jusenkyo Guide
Jusenkyo Productions Proudly Presents
A Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction
Priss and Leon
(Warning, this is a lemon with all that implies. Please do not read if
this sort of stuff offends you or you’re underage, or recovering from
surgery, you’ve just won a million dollars, you are actually Superman,
etc. I in no way, shape, or form one Bubblegum Crisis, I also hope to
heck that the wonderful people who do never learn about this. (If they
did, they’d send a boomer and I’m sure it wouldn’t be a 33-s)
Vincent: What if you're a highly underrated hidden character from a
gargantuan RPG? Am I allowed to see this?
Cid: Never mind THAT...what are you, Pinky? 15? 16?
Shana: Oh, get bent.
Vincent: (snicker)
Priss pounded on the heavy metal door sending hollow booming sounds
around the chamber.
Shana: (imitating Priss) HELP! Lemme outta here! I'm trapped with a guy in
a large metal room and there's a [lemon] tag in the subject!!
Cid: Psst...what's a lemon, anyway?
(Vincent starts whispering into Cid's ear; Cid's eyes grow wider and wider)
Cid: Hot damn! Gimme some popcorn, Pinky.
Shana: (aggravated) My name is Shana, you neanderthal.
“Face it Priss, they can’t hear us,” her companion sighed.
Priss turned to face him, “I’m not going to be trapped, and I’m
especially not going to be trapped in here with you.”
Vincent: You go, girl!
Leon rolled his eyes, “Look, I’m not going to do anything,” he
protested.
Shana: Yeah, right...one guy, one girl, an empty room, and a lemon tag?
Suuuurrrre.
Priss’s expression told him clearly that she didn’t believe him.
Leon got up from where he was sitting and moved towards her, “Until
either the AD Police or your friends find us we’re trapped here. We
might as well just sit down and relax.”
Cid: Sorry, Leon...that line doesn't work.
Vincent: And how would you know that?
Cid: (sweatdrop) Heh...heh...never mind.
“Well it’s your fault we’re trapped in here,” Priss shot back.
“I did not plan for a boomer attack tonight,” Leon replied with some
heat.
Shana: (imitating Leon) Lemme check my Day-Timer...7:00 PM, pick up
Priss...7:30, take Priss to restaurant...8:10, Boomer attack...sorry, I'm
swamped. I'll try to pencil ya in for tomorrow.
He went back to the other side of the room and slid to the ground,
remembering a night that was one disaster after another.
Leon had decided to confront Priss about her being in the Knight
Sabers, he figured that they best way to do that was to lure her out
with the promise of a free steak dinner. He was right on the verge of
telling her that he knew when a boomer crashed into the restaurant.
Cid: Damn, you gotta hate that.
Vincent: BAD timing.
The rest was kind of a blur, he seemed to remember calling for ADP
backup on his pager watch, then standing with Priss firing rounds into
the mechanical monster with no effect. He did remember them both running
out of bullets and running to the back of the restaurant and hiding in
the meat locker. After that the noises that he heard told him that the
ADP had gotten there along with the Knight Sabers. A few explosions
latter blocked the door trapping him with Priss. It wasn’t an unpleasant
prospect on the surface, but Priss didn’t share that feeling.
Shana: Okay, rule No. 1. Do not ever, ever, EVER hide in a meat locker. You
will either freeze to death or end up boinking whoever you're trapped with.
Cid: Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Pinky?
Leon sighed, it was going to be a long night.
A few hours later……….
After running through all the songs that Priss knew, she and Leon had
started into the old, old, classic, ’99 Bottles of Sake on the Wall’ in
a effort to keep warm.
Shana: Oh no. Guys, don't you dare...
(Cid and Vincent grin evilly at one another and launch into their own
rendition of "99 bottles of sake on the wall")
Shana: I'm warning you...
A few more hours……..
(Cid and Vincent are down to the 39th bottle. Shana is holding a pillow
over her head to block out the noise with one hand and is rummaging for her
henshin wand with her other.)
Shana: Dammit, dammit, dammit...this WOULD be the day I leave my wand in my
other pocket dimension...
Leon was becoming quite impressed with Priss’s martial arts abilities.
Cid: (imitating Butt-Head) Hey baby...wanna wrestle? huh-huh huh-huh...
Vincent: (a decent Beavis voice) heh heh m...this chick would kick your
ass, Butt-Head.
Still some more hours……
Shana: Y'know, I gotta be at school early tomorrow...
Cid: How many hours we gone through here?
Vincent: (quick tally) About 6.
Cid: So where's the...y'know...lemon stuff?
Vincent: I imagine the cold isn't doing much for Leon in that department...
Shana: Don't go there.
If you put a man and a woman in a locked room for a while, you know
what might happen after a few days. Do the same to a pair that actually
likes one another, and it happens in an hour or two. In Priss’s and
Leon’s case it was more like six hours.
Shana: Good call, Vincent.
Vincent: Thanks.
Cid: Shut the hell up, both of ya! We finally got to the good part and now
you two are flapping yer jaws...
Not that Leon wasn’t willing,
but Priss had to be stubborn about it. But in the end, tight quarters, a
cold room, and Leon actually not trying to hit on her every few seconds
brought her over as well.
Cid: (again imitating Butt-Head) Uhh...tight quarters...huh-huh...
Vincent: (again imitating Beavis) Yeah. Heh heh m...
Shana: Oh God someone please make it stop.
In the stillness of the locker, some gasps and giggling where heard,
then a rather particular sound.
Cid: If that "particular sound" is ANY kinda farm animal noise, I'm outta
here.
Vincent: Maybe the meat at that particular restaurant is VERY fresh...
Shana: Do NOT go there.
‘Tink, tink, tink,” followed by, ‘snap!’ and a shattering sound as if
someone had dropped a glass plate on the floor.
All: Huh?
This was followed by Leon’s anguished scream, “It’s broken!”
And Priss’s, “Wow, I didn’t know that cold could do THAT to it.”
End (Sounds of the author running away from hordes of enraged Priss and
Leon fans and hentai’s)
(the two males facevault)
Cid: Is he talking about...
Vincent: ...what I think he's talking about?
Shana: I think so.
Cid and Vincent: Aaaaaaagh! (both cross their legs and grimace in sympathy)
Shana: (pause...twitch...twitch..) AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! that was
HILARIOUS! Great fic, JG. ^_^
Cid: (uncomfortably) Easy for you to say.
Vincent: Can we go now? The fic's done.
As Vincent finishes that last sentence, the blue portal reappears over the
sofa and he and Cid are sucked back into it. Before the portal vanishes, a
piece of paper drops out. Shana picks it up and reads over it; as she
reads, her forehead takes on a distinct blue shade.
"Invoice...two reviewers, $100 per paragraph...Lemon surcharge $200...total
balance due..."
Before she can finish reading, she falls over backwards.
--Sailor Solathei
"Ice...snacks...and--fifty gallons of BEER!? What kind of life does she
lead, anyway!?" --Shinji Ikari
"Hang on to your drawers and try not to piss in 'em!" --Cid Highwind
--------------------
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