Sephiroth the Cheese God

 

Rating: PG
Genre: Comedy
Setting: Who knows?
Main Characters: Sephiroth (Duh)

Note from the Authoress: firstly, I would like to thank my good friend light for giving me this idea. Secondly, events and things in this story have no necessary link to FF7. Also, I’m not entirely to sure why I had Sephiroth drinking brandy, he just seems like a brandy type of guy

 

Part 3

Sephiroth arrived back home, and, after struggling with the front door key for a few moments, he managed to let himself in. He collapsed on the chair, pushing an old pizza box to the side. He started to think, unwrapping the chocolate and biting into it. How was he going to go about becoming the cheese god. He took another bite of the chocolate, staring vaguely at his computer. Well, where did cheese come from? Seriously, he thought, where the hell DOES cheese come from? Besides supermarkets that is. He got up and walked over to the computer, and did a search on Cheese. He soon found out that cheese was made from milk. Great, he thought to himself. Now I need to get some cows. He went to Amazon, and, via card, brought 15 cows. Well, that was the first step done. The Cows would be there first thing in the morning. So what was he supposed to do until they arrived? Thinking he had worked really hard already, he collapsed on his chair, and turned the TV on. He flicked through a load of channels, finally settling on a cartoon channel. He lounged back to watch Pokémon, laughing at the idiocy of Team Rocket. You would think they would learn that they couldn’t capture Pikachu. They were such simple bad guys, they would never amount to super villains. He felt bit better thinking that. Eventually, tiring of Pokémon, he wandered to bed, falling asleep quite quickly.

The next morning he woke up. He put his hand to his head, almost like a reflex, then started in surprise. His head didn’t hurt one bit. So this was how it felt to wake up without a hangover. It had been so long since he had done that, he had almost forgotten. He slowly remembered the events of the previous day, as he made himself some breakfast. Those cows should be delivered very soon. On cue someone knocked hard on his door. Sephiroth jumped up enthusiastically. But he slowed slightly while bounding towards the door. The way his luck was going, the chances were that it was a bill, or something worse. Nobody had come up with this cheese god idea before had they? Cautiously he opened the door. A bored looking teenager stood there, holding a clipboard.

“15 cows for a Mr. Sephiroth. Please sign here” Sephiroth took the pen and signed his name. The teenager stood aside, as two farmers herded the cows into his apartment. Great, he thought as he closed the door, things are finally going right.

Three hours later his apartment stank. He couldn’t cope with all these cows. He forced his way through them to his chair, cursing as the ground squished under his bare foot. What he needed was slaves. Yes, that was it. Slaves to look after and milk the cows for him. He wiped his foot off, before struggling into boots.

 
“God damn cows” he muttered as he forced his way to the door.

He had searched for a while, for anyone to enslave. Nobody was suitable. They were all were either well fed, strong, or looked like they might punch him if he even tried to enslave them. Cursing he wandered along the port. There was a ship there. A pirate ship. Those things always had slaves. He climbed on board, to find himself surrounded by pirates brandishing cutlasses.

“Hello. Don’t mind me; I just dropped by to see if you could spare any slaves. I need some to help my plans of world domination.” Some of the pirates sniggered, and one, who was clearly their captain, approached Sephiroth.

“Lis’n pretty boy” He growled, drawing close to Sephiroth. Sephiroth held his breath when the pirate breathed on him, his breath stank worse than those cows. “No one gets our slaves.  Nobody! You got that?” Sephiroth noted that the sword the captain had had punctured his skin slightly, and a trickle of blood ran from the wound. He realised if he didn’t get off this ship, he probably wouldn’t live to try out his new plan. So he nodded and backed away quickly. But not quickly enough. One of the pirates caught his hands and pinned them behind his back. They dragged him down below deck. He could tell right now that they were going to make him a slave as well. Why hadn’t he brought his own sword out with him? Oh well, looked like he wouldn’t be home in time for lunch

 

END OF PART 3