Post by wblstudios on May 24, 2006 11:09:17 GMT -5
Hearshot Kid Disaster: Part Four
Much to Kikyo’s pleasant surprise, dinner went without much incident. After convincing a drunken Josephine to calm down a bit, the classy dinner at the Pao-Pao Cafe went rather calmly, although Ellis hadn’t said a word throughout the night. Much like the dinner she had with Kikyo and her father recently, Ellis felt like a third wheel in the conversation. So she simply concentrated on the comforting Second Stage at her left and let Kikyo and Josephine continue their conversation.
Josephine had garnered the ire of the waiters after sending back her specially made miso soup back several times, so even the hardcore WCF fans working there were glad when the chocolate cake, ending the meal, was being prepared for the three.
“Damn...”, blurted out Jojo, slurping down the rest of her soup. “After all that, I gotta use the bathroom. Kikyo, you see any hot guys coming in, you fucking flag them down, alright? Ellis, don’t... fucking kill anyone while I’m gone.”
Josephine stood up, making her leave as tiny Kikyo turned her attention to the corpse girl. “She’s just kidding around, really. She’s not trying to...”
Ellis held up one hand, still fiddling with what was left of her salad. “I understand. I can tell the difference between when someone is being mean, and just joking around. Lest I’d feel the same reactions as once before, when such circumstances came up, I’d be insulted by her. Mere annoyance is a step up, isn’t it?”
“Ellis... I don’t wanna sound like I’m being mean or anything, but you’re... kinda changing.”
“How so?”
“It’s... the way you’re talking. I mean, I can still understand you, but it’s kinda more like Shakespeare.”
“I’ll try to stop.”
“No, no, don’t worry! I’m just wondering if...”
Conversation was severed as the corpse girl and the prodigy shifted their gaze over to the person sitting in Josephine’s chair... a person that certainly wasn’t Josephine. This was a young Asian man, early 20’s, whose jeans and T-shirt violated the restaurant’s strict dress code even moreso than Jojo’s cherry-red business suit. The interloper scratched the grey tuft of hair atop his head and adjusted his coke-bottle thick glasses, looking at the two.
“No, no. Don’t stop on my account.”
Ellis’ hand went right for her scythe as Kikyo attempted to regain control of the conversation. “Um... can we help you sir?”
“Hmm... question is, can I help you? Tell me, Miss Island... what do you want out of life?”
Ellis’ cold, dead gaze held as firm as her grip on her dearest Second Stage. “I want a family that won’t batter and abuse me... a God that refuses to let little girls be slaughtered... sweet, sweet blood for my dearest Second Stage... and for you to leave, and stop disparaging what henceforth had been a good time. If alone, a choice cannot be made, I’m sure my dearest blade can carve an answer into your flesh.”
The young man didn’t seem too deterred, but a couple of drops of perspiration were noticeable “Well... um, Miss Island... I just came to offer a... business proposition.”
Ellis stood up, nearly overturning her salad as Kikyo frowned. So much for this not being such a bad day. “From which hellhole came you? Have you aligned yourself with the bastard clown whose gaze Longcindia incinerated? Tell him his foolishness will lead him down the long, dark path to the grave. Those ever-toiling businessmen at the WCF keeping more interest in what once was than what shall be? Tell them such mentality led to the closing of their gates so many times before. These precious moments, the brief glimpses into normalcy, are all I have these days. And for you to come here with such airs...”
The corpse’s tirade was rudely cut off by Josephine, carrying a handful of the tiny perfumes often sampled, but rarely given away, in the restrooms of such classy establishments as she slid them in her pocket slacks, freeing her hands to wrap around the man’s throat.
“You fucking son of a bitch, the fuck reason you have coming all the way over here?”
“You know this guy?”, chirped up Kikyo, “He just came in and started talking business.”
“Hells yes, I know this guy. His name’s Musashi Tadakichi”, she stated, shoving him aside. “He owns Hokkaido Pro, this Japanese wrestling federation that’s been trying to hire me since I left Japan a year ago. And he doesn‘t seem to get the fact that I‘m not fucking interested.”
“You’ll have to excuse Miss Miyazaki”, the man, Mr. Tadakichi, replied. “She can’t seem to get past the fact that I’m FUCKING HER SISTER.”
Someone might as well have signed a hardcore match and rung a bell, because Josephine was in the zone. Tossing aside her suit’s blazer, revealing a black button-up shirt that did little to hide the shape of her giant bust, and rolling up her sleeves to show off her impressive arms, Josephine reached behind her at the table for the first thing she could grab that could do some damage... just happening to stumble upon a fork meant to carve into the delicious chocolate cake nobody was eating. Before she could do her impression of New Jack across Tadakichi’s forehead, the young man reached behind him for a good weapon, merely to defend himself... a pepper grinder right out of the hands of an awaiting waiter. But either Tadakichi’s glasses weren’t on straight, or Josephine was agile for her size, as from point blank range, the hurled pepper grinder missed, sailing right over her broad shoulder...
... and nailing tiny Kikyo right on the head.
The tiny prodigy dropped to the ground like a tiny pile of bricks, the pepper grinder spilling it’s guts beside her. Temporarily forgetting Mr. Tadakichi’s presence, Josephine made her way to her former manager, checking in the injury as Tadakichi, seeing the police entering the front door, nearly trampled an elderly couple to make it to the rear exit.
Ellis was nowhere to be found...
Much to Kikyo’s pleasant surprise, dinner went without much incident. After convincing a drunken Josephine to calm down a bit, the classy dinner at the Pao-Pao Cafe went rather calmly, although Ellis hadn’t said a word throughout the night. Much like the dinner she had with Kikyo and her father recently, Ellis felt like a third wheel in the conversation. So she simply concentrated on the comforting Second Stage at her left and let Kikyo and Josephine continue their conversation.
Josephine had garnered the ire of the waiters after sending back her specially made miso soup back several times, so even the hardcore WCF fans working there were glad when the chocolate cake, ending the meal, was being prepared for the three.
“Damn...”, blurted out Jojo, slurping down the rest of her soup. “After all that, I gotta use the bathroom. Kikyo, you see any hot guys coming in, you fucking flag them down, alright? Ellis, don’t... fucking kill anyone while I’m gone.”
Josephine stood up, making her leave as tiny Kikyo turned her attention to the corpse girl. “She’s just kidding around, really. She’s not trying to...”
Ellis held up one hand, still fiddling with what was left of her salad. “I understand. I can tell the difference between when someone is being mean, and just joking around. Lest I’d feel the same reactions as once before, when such circumstances came up, I’d be insulted by her. Mere annoyance is a step up, isn’t it?”
“Ellis... I don’t wanna sound like I’m being mean or anything, but you’re... kinda changing.”
“How so?”
“It’s... the way you’re talking. I mean, I can still understand you, but it’s kinda more like Shakespeare.”
“I’ll try to stop.”
“No, no, don’t worry! I’m just wondering if...”
Conversation was severed as the corpse girl and the prodigy shifted their gaze over to the person sitting in Josephine’s chair... a person that certainly wasn’t Josephine. This was a young Asian man, early 20’s, whose jeans and T-shirt violated the restaurant’s strict dress code even moreso than Jojo’s cherry-red business suit. The interloper scratched the grey tuft of hair atop his head and adjusted his coke-bottle thick glasses, looking at the two.
“No, no. Don’t stop on my account.”
Ellis’ hand went right for her scythe as Kikyo attempted to regain control of the conversation. “Um... can we help you sir?”
“Hmm... question is, can I help you? Tell me, Miss Island... what do you want out of life?”
Ellis’ cold, dead gaze held as firm as her grip on her dearest Second Stage. “I want a family that won’t batter and abuse me... a God that refuses to let little girls be slaughtered... sweet, sweet blood for my dearest Second Stage... and for you to leave, and stop disparaging what henceforth had been a good time. If alone, a choice cannot be made, I’m sure my dearest blade can carve an answer into your flesh.”
The young man didn’t seem too deterred, but a couple of drops of perspiration were noticeable “Well... um, Miss Island... I just came to offer a... business proposition.”
Ellis stood up, nearly overturning her salad as Kikyo frowned. So much for this not being such a bad day. “From which hellhole came you? Have you aligned yourself with the bastard clown whose gaze Longcindia incinerated? Tell him his foolishness will lead him down the long, dark path to the grave. Those ever-toiling businessmen at the WCF keeping more interest in what once was than what shall be? Tell them such mentality led to the closing of their gates so many times before. These precious moments, the brief glimpses into normalcy, are all I have these days. And for you to come here with such airs...”
The corpse’s tirade was rudely cut off by Josephine, carrying a handful of the tiny perfumes often sampled, but rarely given away, in the restrooms of such classy establishments as she slid them in her pocket slacks, freeing her hands to wrap around the man’s throat.
“You fucking son of a bitch, the fuck reason you have coming all the way over here?”
“You know this guy?”, chirped up Kikyo, “He just came in and started talking business.”
“Hells yes, I know this guy. His name’s Musashi Tadakichi”, she stated, shoving him aside. “He owns Hokkaido Pro, this Japanese wrestling federation that’s been trying to hire me since I left Japan a year ago. And he doesn‘t seem to get the fact that I‘m not fucking interested.”
“You’ll have to excuse Miss Miyazaki”, the man, Mr. Tadakichi, replied. “She can’t seem to get past the fact that I’m FUCKING HER SISTER.”
Someone might as well have signed a hardcore match and rung a bell, because Josephine was in the zone. Tossing aside her suit’s blazer, revealing a black button-up shirt that did little to hide the shape of her giant bust, and rolling up her sleeves to show off her impressive arms, Josephine reached behind her at the table for the first thing she could grab that could do some damage... just happening to stumble upon a fork meant to carve into the delicious chocolate cake nobody was eating. Before she could do her impression of New Jack across Tadakichi’s forehead, the young man reached behind him for a good weapon, merely to defend himself... a pepper grinder right out of the hands of an awaiting waiter. But either Tadakichi’s glasses weren’t on straight, or Josephine was agile for her size, as from point blank range, the hurled pepper grinder missed, sailing right over her broad shoulder...
... and nailing tiny Kikyo right on the head.
The tiny prodigy dropped to the ground like a tiny pile of bricks, the pepper grinder spilling it’s guts beside her. Temporarily forgetting Mr. Tadakichi’s presence, Josephine made her way to her former manager, checking in the injury as Tadakichi, seeing the police entering the front door, nearly trampled an elderly couple to make it to the rear exit.
Ellis was nowhere to be found...
