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

Standing at the helm, Sephiroth surveyed the ship. Some of the slaves were doing odd jobs on the ship, and those with no job to do merely stood in front of Sephiroth and worshipped at his feet. Sephiroth was enjoying the attention immensely, while mulling the next stages of his plans over in his mind. He had to figure out how he was going to turn the whole world to cheese. But he thought that he could wait until his cheese manufacturing business was up and running. As he turned his plan over and over in his mind, he gazed into the distance. Subconsciously his train of thought tried to warn him of danger.

Sephiroth was jolted back to reality suddenly. Lightning split the dark sky just ahead of him. He gaped stupidly into the ever nearing distance for a few moments, before the reality of the situation hit him.

“Oh my sainted aunt, we’re headed strait into a storm!” He exclaimed in surprise, before realising what he had said was far from villainous. He glared around the deck for effect, in case any of the slaves had heard his exclamation. Satisfied that they hadn’t, he started shouting orders out, as they headed into the lashing rain of the storm.

Cloud slammed down the newspaper in anger.

“Damn, he’s trying to make a comeback!” He exclaimed. He was sitting in the seventh heaven pub, and at his exclamation, everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged slightly as Tifa turned to him.

“What’s wrong Cloud?” He waved vaguely at the headline on the newspaper, now lying somewhat crumpled on the bar. As Tifa turned the paper so she could read it properly Cloud downed the rest of his beer, rubbing his forehead. He watched as Tifa skimmed through the article. As had so many people before her, she burst out laughing at the article. It was the article about Sephiroth’s plan. Cloud stared at her in amazement.

“Why the hell are you laughing?! If he makes a comeback we’ll be forced to fight him again!” Tifa managed to control her giggles enough to gasp a reply to Cloud.

“Oh, come on Cloud! He’s claiming to become the Cheese God. How tough could he be to defeat?” Cloud gave a weak smile.

“Yeah, I guess” he muttered. “I’m gonna go.” He stood up and walked across the bar, deep in thought. Tifa watched as he pulled open the door and walked out. She shook her head. How tough could Sephiroth be to beat if he did become the cheese god? They had beaten him easy enough when he was at the pinnacle of his power. There was no reason why they couldn’t do it again.

After leaving Seventh Heaven, Cloud slumped dejectedly against the pub wall. How hard could it be? They would all say that. And he would be expected to take on Sephiroth again. It was hard enough the first time. And if he became the Cheese God, it would be practically impossible for Cloud to win. He had never shared the reason why with any of his friends. But now, it haunted him. He couldn’t bet anyone who dealt with cheese. He was lactose intolerant.

The ship was tossing about on the waves, much like a small and incredibly insignificant piece of wood would be tossed around in a blender. Sephiroth had run for cover in the cabins already, cowering in a corner. He wondered briefly whether he should call some of the slaves below deck, because if he lost them his humiliation at the hands of the pirates would be in vain. But he was to afraid to venture back onto the deck, which had been soaked before he had run for shelter. The rain which had hit them suddenly was like a never-ending bucket being emptied over them. A puddle of water had already accumulated on the floor where he was crouched. He dreaded to think how wet it would be on the deck now. He guessed by the time the storm was ended he would have his own personal swimming pool on the deck.

He listened to the thunder crashing outside, and wondered to himself whether he would survive this. But then he thought about his plan. Making up his mind to save a few of the slaves for his plan, he crawled across the rocking floor of the ship, and clawed at the door until it opened. He gave a whimper as he saw water flooding the passage outside. As the door opened, a lot of water rushed into the cabin. Deciding that the slaves would be fine by themselves, he forced the door back closed and returned to his corner, praying that the storm would finish soon.

END OF PART 5