BOUNCE

Disclaimer: this fic was made for WolfPilot06 as a belated birthday gift.  She provided about six lines and I had to use them in the fic.  I did it, too!  ^_^  I don't own GW, I don't own Chalupas, and I don't own Wolf, although that would be very interesting…

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Tuberov turned to face the screen in front of him, scowling. It was displaying picture of the new gundam, the one that had already destroyed one space satellite and a colony. If Une had only taken care of this sooner, had taken tighter control of the forces she claimed to operate, this never would have happened! His face darkened as he looked at one of the young technicians staring blankly at the screen.

"You, tell me who is piloting that suit!"

 

The technician sputtered. "Sir... Sir, I don't know. We haven't received any information from the--"

 

"Your lack of knowledge is making me angry, officer. You know what happens when I get angry."

"Er..." One of the other technicians stepped in. "Actually, sir, he's new. Has no idea what happens."

 

"Oh." Tuberov flashed a brilliant smile. "In that case, let me tell you. When I get angry, I..."

 

"Yes, sir?"

 

"I bounce."

 

The technician frowned. "I'm sorry, sir. You bounce?"

 

"Yes. When I get angry, I bounce. Don't make me angry, officer."

 

"Er, right sir. But... Sir, what's so bad about bouncing?"

 

Tuberov tried to lift an eyebrow but realized that he had none to lift, having apparently burnt them off in a freak accident involving spicy tacos. "You mean you don't know?"

 

"Sir, remember that he's new."

 

Tuberov waved a hand in the air. "Yes. Yes, of course. In that case... Let's just hope you never have to find out, officer. The consequences would be disastrous."

 

"Why, sir?"

 

"Because of the macadamias," Tuberov said shortly, temper flaring. It didn't take very long for the stares of the other officers to get on his nerves and make portion of his brain marked 'bad childhood memories' go into overload. "The macadamias, the macadamias are at fault!"

 

his accusation was met by the silent stares of all the occupants of the room. It was a long while before anyone spoke again.

 

One of the technicians coughed. "Sir, what do you suggest we do about this new gundam?"

 

Tuberov considered this. "Why don't we have an orgy in the freezer?"

 

One of other officers stepped in. "We already tried that, sir. Didn't work, I'm afraid, but it did make several of our officers very very happy with the work benefits we provide."

 

"Good, good." Tuberov's long nose approached the screen at an alarming rate as he leaned forward to see the screen just a little bit better. "Which reminds me, did anyone remember to get me my lunch?"

 

"Yes, sir. Here." The same officer who had reported the failure of the freezer-orgy in stopping the oncoming attack from the gundam handed Tuberov a greasy looking bag that had obviously originated from the far-reaches of space, time, and the general fast-food emporium. Tuberov accepted it gratefully, pulling out the only thing there that seemed remotely edible, and started to take a big bite.

 

Before he could sink his teeth into it, however, the new officer spoke up. "Drop the Chalupa, sir. You need to see this!" This statement was accompanied by frantically waving hands, one of which bopped Tuberov on the nose, made him drop the Chalupa on the floor, and consequently angered Tuberov.

 

It was then that the worst thing possible happened. It was a thing that any fan girl who is easily disgusted should probably not witness.

 

Tuberov bounced.

 

[note: this portion has been censored due to extremely graphic violence which I, the shamed authoress, do not want to witness and thus will not allow anyone else to witness. Just insert a bunch of screams and bouncing and "boinging" noises. That should do it.]

 

After finally being calmed down, Tuberov surveyed the wreckage of the room with general disgust. There was fire everywhere and none of the officers in sight were wearing any pants whatsoever. It was an odd sight, surely, and one that I cannot describe in detail for fear of a nosebleed as one of those officers is pretty damned cute and apparently goes commando underneath those white pants of his. Just let it be said that is was not a pretty sight, with the obvious exception of the cute Oz soldier who is without pants.

 

The new technician ventured out from beneath the chair under which he had been hiding and, after recovering from seeing the cute Oz soldier minus pants, which had for so long been his life-long dream, he blanched. It was not the sight of Tuberov wearing a pink thong that did this, however, it was site of Tuberov's balloon pants smoldering in a pile of wreckage.

 

"Gah, your pants are burning! Your pants are burning!" he shouted in Tuberov's general direction as he pointed an accusatory finger at the smoldering pile, blaming it for his having to see Tuberov in a thong.

 

Tuberov was quick to action. He attacked the smoldering pile of wreckage with a sense of urgency that was not matched by even those poor Oz soldier who get to yell "It's a GUNDAM!!!" before they die horrible, horrible deaths. This was the kind of urgency that people could write three page novels about, although said novels would probably never ever make a best-sellers list, given that the novel is so boring and redundant that it reminds me of this fic.

 

Anyway, as I was saying, Tuberov rescued his pants quickly and efficiently. He then put them on, much to the relief of several OZ officers. They were, however, much to large for him, especially in the area surrounding the... er... the general area of the thong. His scalding gaze met the eyes of several horrified officers.

 

"These are not my pants - dunt, dunt dunt- whose pants, are these anyway?"

 

The cute Oz soldier who was going commando raised his hand shame-facedly. "They're mine, sir."

 

Tuberov stripped himself of the pants and handed them back to the cute OZ officer, pausing only to scold himself for drooling. The new technician scowled, disappointed, and shook his fist at Tuberov.

 

"You have stripped me of my life-long dream and best sexual fantasy ever!" he roared. "May a horde of ravenous, fluffy pink bunnies descend upon you while you are on a moonlit beach in Vermont skinny-dipping!"

 

Tuberov, affronted by such a threat, then did the worst thing he possibly could. A thing so horrible that it makes me hesitate to mention it.

 

He..

 

He...

 

Oh, I can't say it. I'll let Wolf take it from here:

 

Wolf: *grinning* he bounced.