Cue Stinky One-Shot!

[Fire Griffin]

Look, ma'. I actually wrote a fic for once. In a day. On a suggestion.


(WARNING: This barely scrapes the risqué zone. If I were to rate this, it would be about a PG-13 or an R. If you have a problem with drugs and some mature themes, read at your own risk.)

Not That Alley

AN: On a whim of morbid curiousity, I looked at this hentai gallery featuring... Stuff. I needed something to laugh and slap my forehead at and among my thoughts were: "Tron would so not do that."

So one day, I said to Feldinaut:

"I'd like to see her encounter a perverted man. So she can give those hentai people a mean smack to the face."

Her reply?

"MAKE IT."

And here we are. I think that's all you need to know.


Oh yeah. And Feldi beta-ed this, weeding out some of the stupidest canon goofs you'll never see.


</End Intro>


"Not so fast, Teisel!" cautioned Tron Bonne. "You'll choke!"

Regardless of the warning, Teisel Bonne kept on stuffing his face as if he had heard nothing. Whenever brother ate, he ate: the pound of mashed potatoes he had served himself was a tiny smidge on his plate, the steak, one of the largest Tron had ever seen, was reduced to pile of fat and bone, the rolls were crumbs...

Yet, the other vegetables remained untouched, Teisel's liking (and knowledge) of them limited to mashed potatoes, ketchup and fries. Tron, knocking the peas around her plate with her fork, did not bother to catch his attention again. It was useless.

A sigh escaped her lips, the fork now probing her own mashed potatoes. Unlike Teisel, she was bored and hardly hungry, happier shopping than seeing if they can put the restaurant out of business with his eating habits. Her brother had more faith in her now and qualmed less about whenever she wandered out by herself without him knowing.

But maybe that was because she was in the cockpit of a Drache or the Gustaff.

"Hurrrk!" Teisel's large hands clasped at his neck.

The two other Bonnes knew exactly what it was.

"Babuu!"

"Teisel! I told you!"

The patrons around them were silent, watching the scene with the large, choking man and his two scrambling siblings. Teisel abruptly stood up in his panic, knocking the chair over to the floor. Tron was quick though and soon her arms were around the end of Teisel's ribs. With a few trained squeezing motions, she having done this many times before, a large chunk of mush came up. The ball, shiny with saliva, rolled on the expensive carpet and stopped before a shocked couple.

"I'm never eating here again," the woman mumbled. "I knew this place was a bad idea."

The man's cheeks grew hot, a cold sweat dotting the back of his neck. The little, warm drool ball staring innocently up at him did not help the matter. This date was over.

And needless to say, the Bonnes were not in any better shape; many eyes were still staring, particulary at the large man who seemed to not be able to get enough to eat.

"Um," Tron swallowed, surveying the room. It was mostly silent, sans for the low murmur of formally dressed people whispering among themselves. "He's alright."

"Of course I'm alright," Teisel rasped after a slight coughing fit, rubbing his throat. "I think I've had enough. Tron, Bon, let's get out of here."

The crowd resumed eating and the usual chatter crescendoed back to its normal volume. It soon seemed like nothing had happened at all (except for the dating couple, who were promptly leaving with not even so much as a single zenny in tip). Several concerned waiters still approached Teisel.

"Are you alright, sir?" The upper-class accent was very fake.

Teisel snorted indignantly, clearing his throat. "Didn't I just answer that question? I hope you know we're leaving right now. That's how alright I am."

The leading waiter fiddled with his tie with an annoyed look as the others flanking him dispersed to attend to other duties. One nearby grumbled as he sweeped the sticky food ball into a large pan. Tron and Bon silently exchanged glances, the message clear: Teisel would always be Teisel.

"Shall I fetch you the bill?" the waiter responded, a bitter edge in his voice. "Or are you well enough to go get it yourself?"

"Ha ha." Teisel picked up his fallen chair and sat in it, trying to look as casual as he could. The other two Bonne children followed suit. "Unless you're offering me a free meal for me and my family here."

"Very well," the waiter sniffed, turning on the heel of his overpriced shoe and leaving. "I hope you are well aware of the fact that we don't cater to freeloaders."

Teisel leaned towards Tron, his voice low in her ear: "What bad service. We're not eating here again."

"I wonder why," was her reply.

"Don't tell me I was being a bit blunt there!" Teisel exploded in his usual manner, Tron almost launched back from her chair with ringing ears. She prayed he was out of earshot. The last thing she wanted was to get into more trouble with the place.

Bon did his best to shake his "head" at the sight. "Babuu..."

With Tron and Teisel, there was never a dull moment.

Tron had her finger jammed in her aching ear, mumbling incomprehensible things under her breath, while Teisel frantically apologized when the waiter came back. The piece of paper fluttered to the stained, ornate cloth draping the table. It soon ended up between Teisel's thick fingers, the lens of his "eyes" almost cracking as they quickly scanned over its contents.

"WHAAAAAT?" he howled, heads turning back towards the Bonne table. "Are those zeros supposed to be there? Did you just screw up the decimal placement or what?"

"No, sir. I believe that is correct."

[Fire Griffin]

"Ridiculous! Don't tell me that you not only cook food that chokes poor innocents like myself but you've also failed math to boot!"

"Teisel," Tron hissed. "I told you that we should've eaten somewhere cheaper."

Teisel ignored her, caught up in his fury. His rant continued: "Now look here! I didn't eat that much! Look at some of the people here!"

A large woman in the corner that eyed the scene, her shimmering platinum dress giving her the appearance of a blimp, took offense. Still, she eyed the chunk of ham she was about to consume dubiously afterwards.

The waiter that confronted him looked unconvinced.

"Come on! We're new here! I'm sure you offer some kind of discount!"

"Excuse me," Tron whispered, not really caring if anyone had heard or noticed her. She slowly got up and silently left. No one bothered her, figuring that Teisel was her father and had the money, which half was true.

Teisel was still Teisel indeed, even with his newfound faith in her.

Upon stepping outside of the restaurant, she was greeted by a cool seabreeze. It was unusually windy out, she thankful that her dress was fairly small and tight, enough to move her legs and sit but not enough for something to flip it up and show off her panties to the world.

"Hmph," she thought aloud, wandering down the sidewalk to the next building, another random souvenier shop. Or at least tried to.

It was a large tourist district and the businesses were scrunched closely together, the city and entrepreneurs hoping to make as much money off visitors as possible. The place overall had a jumbled, crowded feel, much like throng on the sidewalk Tron was trying to steer through. Her patience wearing thin, she gave up the "salmon flopping up a stream" act and ducked into an alley, walking down it a bit before flopping down on a musty, old pile of disassembled cardboard boxes. It was a foreboding place, with who-knows-what probably lurking in the shadows, but Tron, in her sour mood, found it hard to care.

"Why must Teisel be so bull-headed?"

It was as if she expected the brick walls and garbage around her to answer. Only the chatter of cheery tourists and hazy-faced couples walking arm in arm in a lovey-dovey daze, the perpetual street noise backing the cacophony up, replied. Tron hugged her knees into her chest, waiting for Teisel or Bon to spot her like they always did. They knew she was prone to having fits like this and she expected them to come drag her out soon.

Or, given Teisel's lacking "haggling" skills, later.

"What's wrong?"

Tron looked up towards the source of the voice, her heart pounding in her ears. The pile of boxes was briefly disturbed as a young man took a seat next to her. His clothes smelled strongly of the burning doobie wedged between his fingers and his breath was beyond putrid.

Tron automatically edged away from him, her sharp green eyes studying this filthy excuse of a human being. She did not say a word.

The man slowly blinked his red eyes before taking a generous huff of his drug, coolly blowing the smoke away from her. He was careful to remain in the dark; the police had been on the warpath as of late, cracking down on druggies like himself. "You look troubled, Miss..."

"You stink."

"Oh?" he chuckled, which sounded more like the gasping of a strangled horse. A large hand that surely must have had some blood that was not his stained on it at one point or another reached towards her lap. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"Go away." Tron continued to shuffle to the end of the stack towards the far off exit.

"So you're turning down a shoulder to cry on, huh?"

"I'd rather cry on the shoulder of someone that doesn't smoke... smoke... smoke those things!" Her muscles were tense, the girl ready to spring and run at any moment. She resembled a frightened gazelle.

The man was aware of this. He placed the blunt in his mouth to comb at the wild mane that was his hair. It looked more like a wig. "What a shame then. You hurt me."

"I've hurt a lot of people," Tron growled, her eyes narrowing as she watched him remove the blunt from his teeth back to between his fingers. "Now leave me alone or I'll scream."

"That's not nice either. Is that any way to treat a stranger like me?" His hand was creeping slowly towards her thigh, Tron having yet to notice. She was more focused on his dull eyes. Even in the limited light of the alley, they still glinted with malicious intent.

It chilled her.

"I'm not that stupid. I'm-"

She was cut off by a gasp as his dirty, oily hand touched her, tenderly caressing her soft thigh. It was smacked away, which then, in a burst of annoyance, the man flicked his doobie aside and pounced upon her like a lion, his size and weight easily overpowering her. The pirate tried to scream for help, but another one of those greasy hands covered her mouth.

"You should treat people better," he snarled, his voice husky with lust. "I think I should teach you a lesson about being nice, huh?"

Tron's eyes went wide, her heart ramming in her chest. She realized that this was one of the reasons why Teisel had not allowed her to wander around by herself. His hand remained over her mouth, enough to painfully pin her down and squirm, while the other undid his pants. Her smaller hands struggled against and pulled at that single, strong arm but with no avail.

"Mmmph!"

Did any of those stupid lovebirds notice her situation? At all?

"Oh, come on. This'll only take a minute," he purred. "Just close your eyes and it'll all be over before you know it."

Just then, something occured to Tron, even through the panicky fear that oozed through every vessel of her body like a frozen sludge. Something important. Something Teisel, or maybe one of those corny action movies they would play at three in the morning, had told her.

For her precious virginity, deliberation, in the form of swift kneecapped justice, flew towards his partially exposed groin. It did not miss.

"Ooooooh!"

It was like magic: The fingers painfully digging into her cheeks had loosened, the man's voice coming out in high-pitched squeaks. She found him easy to push off and roll to the ground. The heap of druggie curled up into a fetal position, whimpering.

There was no pity; she did not hesistate to kick him in the stomach a few times. For good measure, of course.

"Hmph!"

With that, Tron brushed herself off and headed out, backtracking towards the restaurant, triumphant. That man had touched her with those digusting fingers! How dirty. She would have to take a shower and boil her clothes when she returned home. Maybe even twice just to be safe.

Teisel and Bon were not hard to find, they lying in a heap just outside the restaurant door. The head Bonne picked himself up and rubbed his sore posterior. After shouting some random profanities at the offending place, shaking his fist at it. Bon, noticing Tron, burbled and waved and pointed, eventually distracting Teisel enough for him to go look at what Bon found so amazing. He turned around, only to face Tron.

A relieved smile fell across his face, he completely forgetting about his anger with that waiter.

"Tron!" he cried, bounding up to her and clutching her shoulders. "There you are! Where were you?"

"Babuu! Babuu!" Bon happily burbled. He was not bothered by being thrown out; it was coming.

Tron smiled, never once happier than now to see her brothers. "I was just out walking while you were talking to the people. That's all."

"That's a welcome relief!" Teisel cried, wrapping his arms around the two Bonnes as if they were the best of friends (which they were, in a sense). "This side of town looks a little creepy for a girl like you anyway. Let's go."

With that, they strolled to their parked Drache near the edge of town, enjoying the simple togetherness that was associated with any other loving family. Unbeknowest to them all, Tron was grinning smugly the whole way.

END

((*VICTORY SIGN* A crappy one-shot in three hours. BOOOO-YAKA!))


Meh. Note that:

1. This is not the final version.
2. I lost Word for Windows when I had to format my C drive so there WILL BE ERRORS. Please help spot them for me.
3. I wrote this on a whim. Weed out even more continuity/canon/etc. goofs for me.
4. MY TABS! MY PRECIOUS TABS!

[aarond]

Awesome.

A few minor things...

"Her brother had more faith in her now and qualmed less about whenever she wandered out by herself without him knowing. "

I might have exchanged the last part for "without his knowledge."

"Unbeknownst" instead of "Unbeknowest."

I guess since I don't have any personal experience with those um...dirty fan-works to which you were referring, I can't judge on the basis of parody. That being said, on the story's own merits, and found it very enjoyable and EXTREMELY well-written, almost god-like when compared with some of the lesser fan writers.

Teisel was so totally in character that I almost plotzed! Really.

I wasn't aware that people smoked the gonja within the Legends universe, but why not? It's probably the primary export of Weedmore Island.

If by "Tab" you're referring to the paragraph tabs and not to the delicious, sugar-free cola, that's a problem anyone who posts stuff has to deal with.

Three hours for a one-shot isn't bad at all. In fact, it's pretty good. I did one once that took like two weeks("Where's my $&%&#@ Hairbrush" if that ever gets posted on the site).

I guess that's about it. Bon was also in character, but it's really hard to tell for sure sometimes.

[Fire Griffin]

Ooch! Thank you so much for the feedback (God... like...? XD) and corrections! You know how hard it is to get a good comment like that that actually helps?

And yeah, I was having some weird thoughts about the weed there, and even thought about taking it out, but in the end, I was like: "If Loath has cigars and stuff, let there be marijuana!"

Oh well. XP I think I might "Legendize" the blunt (IE: Chunk in another term for it - lingo does change after all!)?

I shall polish when I get Frontpage and Word for Windows back because I am a formating Nazi. Frontpage made uploading fics with blessed paragraph tabs a reality. IT SPOILED ME, MAN.


And I like the little bit of what I've read of your stuff so far (I NEED TO READ MORE OR FELDINAUT WILL EAT MY SCALP)...

Hm! *waits*

EDIT: Found the hairbrush story. Tee hee.

[Shelldragon]

Wow, that was perdy good stuff FG ^_^ It looks like a really long story but when you start reading it it's very short indeed. The characters were believable just as aarond said. I've read plenty of fics with Tron and I'm very glad to read one with more Teisel even if his shining moment is choking on food hehehe. Very nice good work ;D

[bluerobotgirl]

...I don't have any advice, but I'd just like to say:

WAY TO GO, TRON!

That was one of the funniest things I've read. And one of the best written too.

;D