Ok, here's the deal. I've got Napster. Through Napster, I have a whole *shitload* of nasty songs. And most of what I have, I can *so* see Duo Maxwell belting out! (gods above, scary thought!) And, being who he is, he would most likely try to make the other three laugh and/or give Wufei a nosebleed, ne? Therefore, I present the "Shock the Stoics Arc," my most massive collection of ficlets on a semi-related theme yet!
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// Lyrics: "Piece of Shit Car"/Adam Sandler //
"Shit!" Duo yelled. Those pursuing Leos were a little too close for comfort and the infrared imaging was impossible to hide from without special equipment that five teenage terrorists simply could not carry. And explosions at the OZ base were unusual enough to bring the entire populace of the nearby town out to see what was going on. The five retreating boys made sure to stay out of the population's way. "Heero, you didn't happen to bring Zero along, did you?"
"No," came the terse reply. "The mission outline specified no Gundams and had this mission gone according to plan they would not have been needed. Zero is approximately seventeen point-niner-six-seven miles away from here in the cave system."
Duo grumbled quietly as they kept running. Right where all the other Gundams were, too. It had gone well at first, but the guards that had been eliminated were discovered a few moments too soon and all hell broke loose after that and the mission had not quite been completed. For one thing, the Leo suits that were supposed to be destroyed were the ones now tailing the five. "Got any good ideas, Yuy?" Wufei asked. It *was* Heero's miscalculation, after all.
"No."
"Well, I do," Quatre said. "Lose ourselves in town and high-tail it out of town from there. Think about it, we mingle with the people who've come out and we're not so vulnerable, for one thing, and for another they lose us on the infrared."
"Actually, that *is* a good idea," Trowa murmured, setting the pace by virtue of height but keeping the shorter pilots in mind. Surprisingly, it was the smallest of the pilots next to him on one side and the young blond on the other. Wufei and Heero were only a step behind. They broke off towards the town.
Ten minutes later, the five "mingled" with the fading crowd. Heero headed for an old, beat-up car that sat on the side of the street: Duo winced at the sight of it. The make and model proclaimed it as absolutely *ancient* automotive history, a Volkswagen Thing, which at one time had been proclaimed the world's ugliest car. The auto looked as though it had been left outside under the desert sun for about a month without any kind of shelter. To make things worse, it had to have been painted in at least fifty different colors and been in about forty separate accidents, if one was going to go by the body. The tires were half-bald, the windshield looked as though it had taken a few too many pebbles, the seats were faded and cracked and torn. The moment they opened a door even Trowa gagged: month-old roasted/frozen puke does not tend to smell nice.
"Hey, Heero, don't you think this car might be a little old? And a little on the putrid side?"
The Japanese boy glanced inside. "It's got a full tank. And I *do* know how to use a stick-shift, Maxwell. It'll do to get us to our suits." He set about hot-wiring the car while the other four piled inside. "Duo� I'm driving."
"The way he pilots Deathscythe I'll have to thank you for our lives," Quatre said, sticking his head out the right-side door. "Then again, you might just choke us with these fumes." Duo pouted, about to climb into the driver's seat, and instead moved into the middle seat, tying his seatbelt in place. Wufei sat beside him, leaving Trowa in the front passenger seat. The car lurched, coughed, sputtered, and spat its way to life. The air conditioner belched forth something acrid and foul straight into the face of the braided pilot, leaving him choking. Heero, climbing into the vacant seat, let a hint of a grin touch his face. "Here we go," he said.
"I'm so going to kill you for picking this car," Wufei said.
"Hn," Heero replied.
"Heero, does this thing have a CD player?"
"No."
"Does it have *anything?*"
"No. This isn't a joyride."
Duo got an idea. "Looks like I'm going to be the jukebox, then."
"If you want." The braided pilot grinned and began to sing.
// Piece of shit car //
Quatre's head popped up from its resting place in the corner.
// I got a piece of shit car. //
// You fucking pile of shit, //
// It never gets me very far. //"
"That's enough, Maxwell!" Wufei spluttered, shocked. Quatre was grinning. Unseen by the three in the back, Heero sighed and exchanged a weary look with Trowa. Duo continued on.
// My car's a big piece of shit. //
// 'cause de shocks are fucking shot, //
// An' my seatbelt's fucking broken: //
// I got to tie it in a knot. // Quatre joined in with his high, almost girlish voice.
// (It's a piece of shit!) // Duo grinned at the blonde and kept singing.
// I can't see through the windshield, //
// 'cause it's got a big fucking crack, //
// And de interior smells real bad //
// 'cause my friend puked in de back. //
Quatre laughed, holding his nose. It was true: it really did stink in there. Every now and then he'd throw in a comment.
// (It's a piece of shit!) //
// Piece of shit car, //
// (Piece of shit car) //
// He got a piece of shit car, //
// (It sucks royal dick!) //
// That fucking pile of shit, //
// (Oh, 100% crap!) //
// Never gets me very far. //
// (Oh, fuck you, car!) //
// It got no CD player, //
// It only got de eight-track, //
// Whoever designed my car can lick my sweaty nutsack! //
Wufei spluttered in outrage. An empty cab was approaching from behind but apparently they were not going fast enough. Heero tried to speed up, but began to lose control of the vehicle until he brought it back down muttering about the poor brakes as they screamed to high heaven.
// An' I got no fucking brakes, //
// I'm always way out of control, //
// Eleven times a day, I hear //
Right on cue, the cab driver yelled:
//"Hey! Watch it, asshole!" // and the two singers just cracked up.
// (You fucking piece of shit!) //
// Piece of shit car, //
// (I got a piece of shit car) //
// He got a piece of shit car, //
// (Piece of crap sucks my ass!) //
// That fucking pile of shit, //
// (That pile of messed-up shit!) //
// Never gets me very far. //
Duo and Quatre looked at one another and identical evil grins spread across their faces. Together they sang:
// Oh, what de fuck did I do, //
// what de fuck did I do, //
// what de fuck did I do //
// To get stuck wit' you, //
// You too hard to drive too, //
// And you smell like de shoe, //
// But I'm too poor to buy somet'ing new� //
// Aw, fuck me! //
"No thank you," Trowa said. Duo threw him a dirty look.
"Fuck *you,* then."
"That's difficult for me to do myself and I think you'd have to take it up with Quatre on that score if you're interested," the auburn-haired boy deadpanned. Quatre turned red as Duo flashed him a raised eyebrow, but they kept singing louder than ever.
// Well, de engine likes to flood, //
// De car always fucking stalls, //
// And my seat cushion's got a big rip, //
// So a spring always pokes de balls. //
// (Ouch, ouch, ouch!) //
// Plus de door locks' are busted, //
// I got to use a 44 hangar, //
// (What a pain in his ass!) //
// And de fucker, he sees my car, //
// Dere's no chance I'll ever bang 'er. //
// (He never ever get a pussy!) // the American joked. Quatre turned a look on him.
// (Hey, shut up!) // Duo bit back a laugh and a sharp retort as he continued the song.
// Piece of shit car, //
// (You piece of shit car) //
// He got a piece of shit car, //
// (You piece of shit car) //
// Piece of shit car //
// (No fucking tires!) // Quatre yelled.
// He got a piece of shit car, //
// (No rear view fucking mirror!) // Duo answered Quatre.
// Piece of shit car, //
// (Seventy-three colors) //
// He got a piece of shit car, //
// (Fucking rag for a gas cap!) //
// Piece of shit car, //
// (Tailpipe making sparks fly everywhere!) //
// He got a piece of shit car, //
// (The whole town thinks I'm a loser.) //
// Piece of shit car, //
On the other side of the road, the yellow cab was approaching again, this time with a passenger. Quatre leaned out the window of the straining station wagon and yelled:
//(Cabbie, gimme a push!) //
//He got a piece of shit car� //
"Duo? Quatre?"
"Yes, Wufei?" the pair chimed sweetly. Wufei looked up from his lap.
"Shut up unless you want me to deck you."
"I think we might have a problem with you doing that, Wufei," Trowa murmured as they found the caves that hid their Gundams and gratefully piled out.
Heero gave Trowa a look. "But I think we would be more than happy to take the responsibility from you this once."
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