Author:  pulsar (pulsar03@juno.com)
Title:  Tired of Quatre's Singing
Category:  Humor
Warnings: Yaoi (references to 3+/x4), mentions of ?+4, ?+4, and ?+4,
rather absurd, Quatre abuse, Relena dies
Archive:  If anyone wants it, I'm more than happy to let you have it,
just drop me a line and let me know where you're putting it.  I am
currently being archived at The Yaoi Collection (www.yaoicollection.com), 
Black Ice (www.fortunecity.com/athena/nightingale/236 ),Yummy Yummy Yaoi!  
A Buffet of Bishounen! (http://simon_the_duck.tripod.com/Yaoi ), and 
Shinigami's Faithful's site (http://gboytoys.stormpages.com)
Disclaimer:  GW is not mine.  Neither is Ben-Gay, Superglue, Ex-Lax, or
Nyquil.
Author's notes:  I would like to thank everyone who replied to Tired of
Sex and all my friends who gave me Quatre torture ideas.  A bunch of my
RL friends gave me suggestions, as did Mair (the Superglue bit was her
idea), my beta reader Raya (Wufei's revenge was her idea), and probably
some others who I am forgetting.  If you gave me an idea for this fic and
I neglected to mention you, let me know and I'll make amends.  And like
all my fics, this was betad by Raya.  *showers her with pocky*
Feedback:  I would LOVE to hear what you thought of my fic!

_word_ = italics




        The door of the coffee shop slammed into the wall hard enough to
crack the glass. Four furious teenage boys and one super-pissed young
woman stormed inside. All other patrons fled the restaurant in fear. The
trembling waitress made her way to the table.

        Timidly, she asked, "Can I help you?"

        Noin replied angrily, "Not unless you know a good way to exact
revenge on a no-good, trampy man-whore!"

        The waitress stepped back in fear. "Um… Well, you could cover his
penis in Ben-Gay .(1)"

        The five soldiers stared at her, then at each other. She fidgeted
nervously. Duo used his foot to slide a chair out. "What else you got?"

        She sat. "Well… what does he deserve to have done?"

        "Let’s castrate him."

        Everyone stared in shock at Noin.

        "Good Lord, what did he _do_?"

        "Karaoke," they answered in unison.

        "Ah. Well, I’ll admit that’s pretty horrible, but why castrate
him for singing? It couldn’t have sounded _that_ bad…"

        "He said he had sex with Milliardo!"

        "And Sister Helen!"

        "And me."

        "And me!"

        "And my dead wife!"

        "And my sister."

        The waitress looked stunned. "Oh my God! This calls for desperate
measures."

        "Yeah, but _what_?"

        "Let’s castrate him."

        "Noin!"

        "What?"

        "That’s punishment for Trowa too."

        Noin nodded. "Okay then, what’s your idea?"

        "Let’s squeeze his neck ‘till his eyes pop out!"

        "Let’s destroy all his tea!"

        "Better yet, let’s put Ex-Lax in it!"

        The waitress pulled out her notepad and jotted down the ideas.
Everyone got louder and more creative as they continued.

        "Let’s give him a bikini wax!"

        "Let’s wax his ass crack!"

        "Let’s tie him naked to a bed and leave him alone with a really
ugly chick!"

        "Let’s blow up Sandrock!"

        "Let’s switch his ‘massage’ oil with Superglue!"

        "Let’s get him wasted and give him an embarrassing tattoo!"

        "Let’s digitally alter a male porno so all the ukes have his face
and then give away copies of it!"

        "Let’s sacrifice him to Nataku."

        "Throw him in a volcano!"

        "Dress him up as a hooker and abandon him in a bad part of town!"

        "Let’s show people a picture of his penis and have them laugh!"

        "Make him watch lesbian porn!"

        "Wait, don’t guys like that?"

        "Not gay ones."

        "Ah."

        They continued plotting late into the night. By the time the sun
rose, the waitress’s notepad no longer contained any blank pages, and
they had a plan for revenge. And what a revenge it would be…

        Later that day, about 5 o’clock, in the afternoon, Noin paid the
safehouse a little visit. Duo let her in, and they tiptoed into Quatre’s
room.

        "Are you sure he’s asleep?" Noin mouthed.

        Duo nodded and held up a two-thirds empty bottle of Nyquil .

Noin grinned and pulled her supplies out of her handbag. Duo grinned in
return and left to tell the others to get into position.

        Noin set about her work, being as quiet and gentle as possible.
"I don’t want him waking up ‘till it’s time…," she thought. A faint tap
on the door let her know the others were ready. Noin grinned and ripped
the paper off Quatre’s nether regions.

        "AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" Quatre screamed and bolted upright. Noin
pulled out her camera and took pictures of him freaking out. Quatre
continued to scream. Duo burst into the room.

        "What the hell is going on?!"

        "Duo! She-! My penis!"

        Duo looked at Quatre’s genitals and winced in sympathy. "Hang
on." Duo ran into the bathroom and rummaged around in a cabinet. Once he
found what he was looking for, he ran back to Quatre and threw him the
tube. "Here, Q, put this on it!"

        Not looking at the label, Quatre slathered it on himself. As the
pain faded, he sighed with relief. Unfortunately, the relief was
short-lived. "AAA! It burns!"

        "Yeah, Ben-Gay will do that to a penis."

        Quatre tried frantically to remove the Ben-Gay , but only
succeeded in rubbing it in. He whimpered.

        "Hey Duo…"

        "Yes Noin?"

        Noin grinned evilly. "Wanna help me wax the rest of him?"

        Quatre ran screaming from the room. Duo and Noin exchanged
high-fives.

        "Who can help me?" Quatre thought frantically. "Heero! Heero will
help me! I’m a necessary part of the mission! He _has_ to help me! Oh
please God, make him help me…"

        Quatre barged into Heero’s room. Heero turned away from his
laptop and eyed Quatre strangely. "Trowa’s room is down the hall."

        "I know that!"

        "Then why are you naked in here instead of there?"

        "Noin and Duo… They waxed me and made me cover my penis in
Ben-Gay !"

        Heero raised an eyebrow.

        "You’ve gotta help me!"

        Heero nodded. "Fine, I’ll see that they leave." Heero opened a
dresser drawer, threw some clothes to Quatre, and left. Quatre hurriedly
dressed.

        In a few minutes, Heero returned, carrying a small box. "This
came for you in the mail."

        Quatre took the box from Heero and stared at it, puzzled. "Who
would send me a package? Do you think it’s safe to open?"

        Heero nodded, pointing to barely legible return address. "I think
it’s from one of your sisters."

        Quatre peered at the address, trying to read it. Shaking his
head, Quatre shrugged. "Remind me to sign my sisters up for penmanship
classes." He tore open the box, eager to discover its contents. "Oh, wow!
It’s a camel plushie!" Quatre raised up the stuffed animal and inspected
it. "It’s so cute! I love it!" He pulled the plushie close and cuddled
it.

        Heero smirked. "Ninmu kanryo," he whispered to himself.

        "Um, Heero?…," Quatre asked anxiously.

        "Hmm?"

        "Why is it ticking?" he asked, panicking.

        "What are you talking about?"

        "It’s _TICKING_!" Quatre squealed.

        "What’s your point?"

        Quatre shrieked, threw the plushie out the window, and ran from
Heero’s room. Outside, there was an explosion, followed by wails of, "Oh
no! Miss Relena’s car!" and "Oh God, she was still in it!" Sounds of
weeping followed. Heero grinned.

        "I should put time bombs in plushies more often."

        Terrified, Quatre ran as fast as he could away from Heero. He
looked behind to see if Heero was chasing him, and while he was looking
behind accidentally ran into something. Quatre fell to the floor and
looked up to see what he had run into.

        "Oh, I’m sorry Wufei! I didn’t see you!"

        "I noticed," he replied dryly. "Quatre, we need to talk."

        "Love to, but I’m sort of in a hurry." Quatre stood to leave.

        "Quatre, we can have this talk with you _uninjured_, or we can
have this talk with you bleeding profusely."

        "Um, I think we should go with the first choice."

        Wufei nodded. "Now Quatre, you know how important honor and
respect are to me, right?"

        "Yes…"

        "And one should show utmost respect to the dead, right?"

        "Yes…"

        "You don’t show very much respect to Meiran, do you?" Wufei’s
eyes held a dangerous gleam.

        "Um, no…"

        "Quatre…" Wufei trailed off, drawing his katana. "Do you know
what sepukku is?"

        "No, but it doesn’t sound like fun."

        Wufei gave him a small, evil-looking smile. "It’s ritual
disembowelment."

        Quatre’s eyes widened as he looked at the gleaming blade. Wufei
lunged forward. Quatre ducked to the side and ran, screaming. Wufei
chased him.

        "I’m sorry!!"

        "Come back, Quatre! It’ll only hurt for a second!"

        "AAAAAAAAH!"

        "Wufei!" yelled Heero. Wufei stopped and turned to face him. "I
can’t let you kill him, Wufei." Quatre sighed with relief.

        "Why not?" challenged Wufei.

        "Because _I’m_ going to kill him."

        "Like hell you are! _I’m_ going to kill him!"

        While the two pilots argued over who got to kill him, Quatre
snuck quietly into Trowa’s room.

        There was soft music playing in Trowa’s candlelit room. Flower
petals were scattered on the floor, trailing towards a shadowy figure on
the bed.

        "How romantic!" breathed Quatre, moving towards the bed.

        "Why, thank you," replied the bed’s occupant, grabbing Quatre’s
arm and pulling him closer.

        "You’re not Trowa!" Quatre exclaimed, trying to wrench his hand
free from the impostor’s grip.

        "No shit, Sherlock," replied Dorothy, pushing Quatre down onto
the bed and climbing atop him.

        "Get off!" he screamed.

        "I fully intend to," she replied with a leer.

        "Let Master Quatre go!" exclaimed Rashid, bursting in through the
door. He threw Dorothy to the floor. Quatre sighed in relief. "Master
Quatre is _mine_."

        "WHAT?!" shrieked Quatre and Dorothy simultaneously.

        "He wrote me a note and confessed in it that he is madly and
passionately in love with me."

        "Liar! He wrote _me_ a note, not you!"

        "Your lies are even more disgusting than your eyebrows, filthy
wench!"

        "Bastard!"

        "Trollop!"

        "You complete asshole!"

        "Vile harlot!"

        "Pedophile!"

        "Painted whore!"

        Rashid and Dorothy lunged at each other, punching and kicking.

        "I didn’t write _either_ of you a note!" Quatre shrieked.

        "Of course you didn’t, boy," said Dr. J, standing in the doorway.
"You wrote _me_ a note."

        "_WHAT_?!?!" screamed Quatre, Rashid, and Dorothy. Rashid and
Dorothy stopped beating each other up and lunched at J. The
three became a writhing mass of swinging fists (or metal claw-thingies,
as the case may be) and kicking legs and chomping teeth.  Dorothy tried
to scratch out Rashid’s eyes with
her eyebrows.

        Trowa entered the hallway and paused as he saw the three
struggling people on the floor in front of his room. He shook his head
and stepped over them into his room, shutting the door behind him.

        "Thank Allah you’re here!" exclaimed Quatre, throwing himself
into Trowa’s arms. "You wouldn’t believe what just happened!"

        "Let me guess… Everyone is out to get you and Rashid, Dorothy,
and Dr. J are all fighting over you because they think you’re in love
with them."

        Quatre stared at him in awe. "How did you know?"

        "Quatre, who do you think _sent_ the notes?"

        Realization dawned on Quatre’s face. "You?! But why?"

        "Could you have possibly picked a more offensive song?"

        "_THAT_’s what this was about? It was just a song!"

        "All the same, I think no more karaoke for you _ever_."

        Quatre nodded enthusiastically and glomped onto Trowa, who
returned the fierce embrace.

        "Am I going to be safe now, Trowa?"

        "Of course, Quatre."

        Just then, the window shattered and a menacing figure stood
amidst the shards. The candlelight reflected off a gleaming dagger blade.

        "Quatre…," said Catherine, "I hear you’ve been singing…"



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

(1)  My friend actually did this to himself.  He said it felt good at
first, but then it started to burn.  I don't know why he thought covering
his genitals in Ben-Gay was a good idea.  My friends are odd...

So what did you think?

-pulsar