Disclaimer: You know the drill. . .

~*~*~*~*~

. . . The Oni Will Play!
by Ritsuko

Setting: As we last left our heroes, they stand mouths agape at the thing that their friend has become.

TWEEK: Par. . . parcheesi?

MISC: I told you it was bad.

SKILLS: That's it, if I have to deal with this, I better get Junior Mints.

MISC: Aw, c'mon, like I have any money.

TWEEK: Who said he needed money to get them?

SHAKEY: Yeh, just run in the Nibelheim Outpost, spud, and cry out, 'This is a stickup, fer Pete's sake! GI GI!!!

MISC: Great, we've got a social vegetable in this room, and you want to go rob the store that's practically next to my house? Shit, I better pack.

*Misc starts to leave when 'Julian' grabs her arm*

GOTH/JULIAN: I say, fair one, do you need any help. If I remember right Veronica, you couldn't unscrew the cap off of a pickle jar.

*Misc stares blankly at him while he smiles politely.*

TWEEK: *breaking the silence* Whose up for crawdads?

SKILLS: I want JUNIOR MINTS!

MISC: *fuming* . . . . Shakey. Give me your shovel.

SHAKEY: *patting the shovel worriedly* But Lina here doesn't like to go through linoleum, Spud. . .

MISC: What about flesh?

SHAKEY: *thinks a moment, looks at the shovel and whispers to it*

TWEEK: First the horse, now a lawn tool. I do not want to see where this is leading. *walks out of the room*

*Shakey stops and looks up*

MISC: Well?

SHAKEY: Lina wants to know if you're going to use her as a spoon, spud. . . gi. . .

SKILLS: That's it. *unsheaths his sword* Just use this, Misc. *throws it to her*

GOTH/JULIAN: I say old boy, don't you think that's kind of. . .

*The sword falls into Misc's hands, and at the same time cuts one off.*

MISC: OOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!

GOTH/JULIAN: DANGEROUS?! GOOD LORD! VERONICA! ARE YOU OKAY?

MISC: *jumping around the room* FUCK FUCK FUCKETY FUCK FUCK!!!!! OOOWWWWW! DO I LOOK OKAY YOU IVY LEAGUE, FERRARI DRIVING CALVIN KLINE MODEL REJECT!?!?!?!

*All in the room gasp, and Tweek even pokes her head in*

SHAKEY: Uh. . . Spud, do you realize. . .

TWEEK: He's gonna kill. . .

SKILLS: *rolling eyes* Couldn't you level up one of my other materia? Say, Odin???

MISC: *still seething* DON'T YOU SEE??? He isn't Goth. Nothing in that preppy brain is getting through to the lethal part. But as much fun as this is, I'd rather be getting a real labotamy than this freaks mental one!!!

GOTH/JULIAN: *whimpering as eyes fill with tears*

MISC: *picks up her hand, sits down, and starts to sew it back on* Oh stop it. I'll have you back to normal in a moment. *All stare at her as she cuts the thread and wiggles around her newly sewn on hand* Ah, good as new. Now. . . *grabs Lina the shovel and whaps Goth in the head with it.* That should do it.

*All stare in shock as Goth's eyes glaze over, and a little creature with a horn floats out and starts doing a jig in mid air*

SHAKEY: Hey, spud, he's got rhythm!

MISC: Yeah, I know! Just trap him in the sugar bowl or something before he. . . *suddenly hands clamp about her neck*

GOTH: *fuming* Ivy league? Calvin Kline?! PREPPY?!!!!?

*The little creature floats away and Misc keeps pointing at it as she turns blue, but everyone just watches her and Goth*

MISC: D. . .d. . . d. . .

GOTH: *fuming* Yes, you are dead, dead, dead!!!!!

*The little creature floats over to Tweek, who stares at it, licks her lips, and sucks it up with a straw.*

TWEEK: DAMN GOOD CRAWDAD!!!

*Misc points erratically at her before passing out.*

SKILLS: *patting Goth on the back* Now that was damn good work, if you'll just let me. . .

GOTH: You want a boot up your ass?

SKILLS: *throwing up hands, backing off* She can stay dead.

*Meanwhile, Tweek starts sputtering until she turns purple. Then, with a loud pop, she collapses on the floor.*

SHAKEY: Uh, spuds. . .

SKILLS: Huh. . . I never thought I'd have to use it on her. . . *starts to get materia out while Goth continues to strangle Misc*

GOTH: Ah. . . this is so therapudic. . .

SHAKEY: Is this how you always solve problems, spud?

GOTH: Aw, heck no. I had a cat once.

*By now, Skills has started to lean over Tweek. Suddenly her eyes flare open and she looks at Skills*

TWEEK: JEFFERY!

SKILLS: Huh?

TWEEK: *In a flash, her arms are around his neck* Oh, you silly silly boy, of course I'll marry you!

*All stare at her in shock. Then, angrily, Goth stalks off, only to return moments later, with a fire poker which he continually bashes Misc's prone form with*

SHAKEY: *nervously* Well, spuds. . . think I'll go down to the outpost, an' get me some sarsaparilla. . . *leaves quickly*

SKILLS: Uh. . . why. . .um. . . *looks at Goth* GOTTA GO! *dissapears into thin air*

TWEEK: Oh, dear. . . Perhaps he's not ready for this. . . *looks at Goth* But maybe you are, Julian?

GOTH: *sticks the poker in Misc's stomach and comes over* What in the name of Hell's flaming brimstone is going on?!

TWEEK: *giggling* Oh, dear, you were always easy to excite. . . *she comes closer to him, lips reaching out to touch his, when she slips in a puddle of Misc's blood, and falls, conking her head on the counter. instantly, the demon pops out and flies through a window*

GOTH: *looking around* Hokay. . . time to go play some Bond. . . *leaves*

*MEANWHILE*

*A misty, ghosty form of Misc pops out of her body. She looks around and groans*

MISC: One would think in Hell, you'd stay dead. *brushes off her transparent body and looks around* Hmmm. . . where'd everyone go? WHERE THE HELL'S THE DEMON?! Urgh. . . . *drifts over to the window* Oh, Shit.

*The demon is floating crazily after Shakey, who's jerking down the driveway singing an improvised rendition of 'Oh my darlin' Clementine'.*

MISC: What can I do? WHAT CAN I DO???? *hyperventilates, and then relaxes* Hey, what's the worst that can happen? *There is a loud pop outside as Shakey is taken over by the demon* Uhh. . . why does Shakey now have a handlebar mustache???

ANNOUNCER: Will Skills level up his Life materia? Will Misc ever have physical form again?

MISC: *sweatdropping* Who the fuck are you?

ANNOUNCER: Will Misc find out who I am? Will Shakey become a preppie beast? Will Tweek drink more coffee?

MISC: Isn't that obvious?

ANNOUNCER: Is it obvious? Find out next time, in the conclusion of this three part series!

MISC: Um. . . I meant it to be a two parter. . .

ANNOUNCER: You want to write until four a.m.???

MISC: *giggles nervously* Whaddaya know? You were right!. . . *runs off to hide from he angry fans, forgetting she is ghost, thus cannot run* Damn technicalities. . .

tbc. . .

*dodges eggs and rotten fruit* BTW, Happy Birthday Bjorn!

What? No more? Grrrr. . .