How low can you go?


notes: This is a line challenge from an ml I'm on. Sorry, I only managed to weasel in five ;_; But they just wouldn't have made *sense* otherwise *g*

Warnings: Language. ^_^ I haven't written a gw fic in a while XD so I s'ppose that's a warning. For those lacking sense of humors should avoid any posting/fics by me with the temerity of a rabid weasel ^^

It was a typical day at the safe house. Very typical.

The birds were singing; Heero was typing; the sun was shining; Quatre was sparkling, the grass was growing; Wufei was ranting; the gundams were resting; Duo was bouncing; the clouds were clouding; Trowa was being.

It was hopeless. There was no help for it. A plot device was brought forth in the form of the fuckup fairies. There were two of them: Bright eyed, bushy tailed, nekki 'cept for a discreetly placed smiley face. They were identical twin fuckup fairies, in fact, very rare. They were also approximately the size of a Barbie doll plastic shoe.

The fuckup fairies twinkled; they sparkled; they possessed a fanatic devotion to their job.

It was time for the typical day at the safe house to rise to another level entirely.


"Well, well, well... what do we have here?"

"I do believe it's called a human on a stick."

"Or a human with a stick!"

"Oh, let's not be coy and just call it like it is - a geek!"

"A computer geek!"

"Is he hopeless?"

"Nothing is hopeless!"

Together, "For we are the identical fuckup fairies!"

"Is there anything that can be saved?"

"Nah, let's just waste him!"

"No, wait! He doth have a propensity for spandex."

"Hallelujah and pass the lube, the boy can be saved!"


"But first is first..."

"We've just magically replaced el spandex geeko's laptop with an anatomically correct hermaphroditic blow up doll - let's see if he notices!"

". . ."

". . ."

"He's just sitting there."

"This is BO-ring."

"Wow... d'you think we blew a circuit?"

"What, like he needs a boot?"

"Isn't it a boot up?"

"Boot up the what?"

"Boot up where the stick resides?"

"That would hurt. Sounds good to me!"

"Oh wait, he's moving!"

"Looks like a twitch to me."

"Hmm... looks like we need to do something more drastic?"

"What could be more drastic to a geek than removing his hardware?"

"How about rewiring all his circuits and giving his program a nice surge?"

"Oooh... You sound reasonable, time to up my medication!"

"Enough of this tomfoolery and oh so witty ban~ter, we have a geek to reprogram!"

"So what is he... the Perfect Geek?"

"Nah, look at that coloring."

"Moss green hair, prussian blue eyes, a face like a girl's... hm..."

"Well, that's it then! It's the Perfect Soldier!"

"I thought it was the Terrible Soldier?"

"Survey says!... Nope, Perfect Soldier."[1]

"So what? We replace his training with..."


"Hormones? Like estrogen?"

"I was thinking of something with a little more *mmph*, more *pow*, more bang for your buck!"

"You haven't been around the Tooth Fairy when she's in one of her moods, have you?"

"...Moving right along, I say a sex drive."

"Doesn't he need a license for that or at least a learner's permit?"

"Idiot! Of course not! He drives a gundam doesn't he? He doesn't need a license for *that*."

"Quite right! Well then... one sex drive coming up!"



"Well, he's *still* not doing anything."

"A tough nut to crack is he?"

"Oh, wait! He just grabbed the anatomically correct hermaphroditic blow up doll!"



"Uh... I guess they don't make anatomically correct hermaphroditic blow up dolls like they used to?"

"Oh, shit! He's heading towards the door. The other pilots..."

"They're screwed."



"Should we do something about it?"

"Why? We are the identical fuckup fairies; we've done our duty!"

"Just *look* at that anatomically correct hermaphroditic blow up doll! We're the identical fuckup fairies, not representatives for viagra!"

"Oh, fine."

"There's only one solution!"

"One solution?"

"Yes it's The..."

"Oh, no... Not The..."

"Yes, The Crack Pipe of Weeping Ukes!"[2]


"Precisely. Well, let's get going then!"

"You know..."


"Someday, we'll look back on this, laugh nervously, and change the subject."

"Or we'll look back on this, laugh uproariously, and replay the tape!"

"That too."

"Shall we?"

"Oh yes, we most definitely shall."


The two identical fucked up fairies, or rather two identical fuckup fairies, quickly moved out in pursuit of their experiment gone horribly wrong. To their relief, he seemed to be heading in a direct path.

Well as direct as someone with a direct infusion of sex drive right to his spandex would allow. Apparently having an uncooperative third limb threw a human's balance off horribly, especially a third limb as well developed as Heero's.


"If we added a tail to him, would it help his balance?"

"No, but it would certainly make things interesting for his partner."

"Speaking of his partner..."

"Interesting, he seems to be headed directly towards... what was that braid thing's name?"



"What kind of name is Duo?"

"What kind of name is Heero? Or Trowa, or Quatre, or Wufei?" "Point. So... how do we get this Duo to imbibe of The Crack Pipe of Weeping Ukes?"

"We stick The Pipe in his mouth, hold his nose, and don't let go until he breathes?"

"Subtle! Very subtle. That should work."



"I do believe we never took into account this... bouncing."

"Yes, the bouncing proved to be our undoing."

"I wouldn't say *undoing*. Getting The Pipe out of his nostril was... interesting though."

"Does a human's tooth grow back?"

"Maybe we can ask the Tooth Fairy to make a special stop."

"Not when she's in a mood though."


"Now... To hold him still long enough."

"Hurl sharp, fast moving, and quite deadly objects at him until he stays still?"

"Well, that would work. I don't know if the sex drive takes into account necrophilia though..."

"True, true."

"How about a wedgie?"

"How inelegant. And it sounds painful."

"Well, it's not as if that particular area isn't going to get a work out anyway."

"Point. Let's have at it then, shall we?"



"That was fun! We should add it to our repertoire. The Identical Fuck up Fairies: We do wedgies, sex drives, and more!"

"I agree; I particularly liked it when he squealed like a stuck pig!"

"Speaking of sticks..."

"Ooh... Here comes our little sex drive now!"

"Oh, he's grown so much!"

"Our little monster's aaall growed up." [3]



"What does The Crack Pipe of Weeking Ukes do?"

"You fell asleep in Recreational Drugs and their various uses again didn't you?"


"It allows the Weepy Uke to be penetrated with little or no preparation, little or no lube, and little or no foreplay."

"I can... see that. I thought foreplay was half the fun?"

"What are you a woman?"

"As long as they're both enjoying it..."

"You are a woman. It also causes the Weeping Uke to weep uncontrollably."

"Houston, we have a gusher."

"And for the Weeping Uke to be unable to complete sentences and speak in half comprehensible grunts, moans, and phrases."

"Someone should really write up a dictionary for this."

"It also causes the Weeping Uke to do and say things he would otherwise be caught dead doing and or saying."

"It's sort of late for him to be saying 'be gentle -it's my first time.', isn't it?"

"Finally, after all is done and said - the Weeping Uke finds it absolutely necessary to declare his undying love, usually with artful streams of tears flowing from his huge glistening doe like eyes - as well as naked, sweaty, and covered in various body fluids."

"They're far from done from what I can see."

"Wait for it."



"Houston, we have confirmation."

"Indeed. And stop calling me Houston." "That is some sex drive - which one did we use?"

"You know the one... the one that 4 out of 5 Semes and Ukes prefer."

"Ah, the Energizer Sex Drive: It keeps going and going and going..."

"Exactly. Shall we move on to others?"

"Yay! Who should we do next?"

"Hmm... How about that tall gay looking fellow with the turtleneck?"[4]

"What should we do with him?"

"You mean, what can't we do with him? What about the appearance of a sudden and tragic past from nowhere triggered by an everyday object which totally and absolutely sends him into a near catatonic state?"

"Again? Didn't we do that already with that Arima fellow?"

"No, no. That was the appearance of a sudden and tragic past vaguely hinted at by having an 'evil' doppelganger show up in nightmares and poetically symbolized by cherry blossoms, shadows, and chains which is in turn triggered by a *weather* phenomenon and sends him cringing into the unplumbed depths of his childhood."

"Didn't we do that already with that Tsuzuki fel-"

"Stop that."

"You never let me have any fun."

"I'll let you press the button on the instant Angst o' Matic."




"That was rather unexpected."

"Who would have known?"

"I think he got his bang stuck."

"Banging a sharp and potentially dangerous object like that into a wooden floor and furniture would do it."

"I thought it would turn him into a near catatonic?"

"I guess he was stronger than he looked?"

"Too bad we can't say the same for the furnishings."

"It rather does look as if a chainsaw went at it, doesn't it?"

"Hmm... Wait, I think the near catatonic state is approaching! He's curled up into a little ball and chanting something..."

"This would actually be somewhat touching and a tear jerker if his bang *wasn't* embedded into the floor..."

"What is he saying?"

"Something about angels and blood and being unworthy..."

"He's having a disturbing masochist dream revolving around a church fetish and Wayne's World?"

"I suppose so. Well, he's quite fucked up, so our job here is done!"

"Right! 3 down, 2 to go."

"Identical Fuckup fairy sibling of mine, who is next on our to do list?"

"Next up is Chang Wufei - gundam pilot, honorable pilot, wearer of white pilot, and harbinger of justice pilot. Mr. Chang's likes include friendly duels with archenemies, screaming at animals, and floating down rivers. His dislikes are weaklings and idiots."

"Ooh, this is going to be easy."

"Ethically rigid people usually are, easy that is."

"That somehow felt wrong."

"Really? Whatever do you mean?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Let's just move along shall we?"

"I suppose. Now, what can we do to our fine upstanding citizen of L5, population 1?"

"I recommend a permanent spot on those 'Cheers' commercials."

"The one where the star is forced to stain and then clean clothing for the rest of his unnatural life?"

"Yes, that one!"

"Too obvious. I think he'd have too much fun."

"What about that Voltron episode?"

"The one where the castle mice are given their own mini mecha and does battle with their archenemy, the cat?"

"Do you like?"

"I like."

"It has nothing to do with Wufei though, does it."

"No, none at all."

"The best thing to do is for him to become the antithesis."

"A feeble minded, womanizing, stained pants wearing, non promise keeping, uneducated, out of shape, punk ass, shame to his ancestors, free loading, Asian bi~atch?"

"I was about to say stick him in the Marmalade Boy world but close enough!"


Wufei was still ranting at his recently washed pants. He found it the most efficient way to keeps his pants whiter than white. Suddenly the strangest urge seized him. Humming 'Asian Pride' under his breath, he quickly changed pants. He made sure the baggy jeans, a pair Rashid had left behind, hung low on his hips and showed his briefs. It proudly declared Wufei to be a Tommy Hilfiger underwear wearing man. He kept the tanktop on and slouched into a pair of high top sneakers, unlaced. Next, with the help of a judicious amount of bleach and scissors, Wufei gave himself a spiky headed, bleach blonde look. He added a pager and two cellies to his arsenal.

Wufei looked into the mirror. He frowned. What could be missing? Ah...

He added a gold chain with his initial and another with a jade Buddha. A gold chunky wristwatch went on one wrist while a black bracelet with several beads went on another.

He checked the mirror again, winked, and murmured to himself, "Change Wufei here. Any of you bitches wanna get with me? I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me. Oh yes, Chang Wufei - you are the SHIT."

The now thoroughly Asia-fied Wufei stomped/sprawled his way to the nearest nightlife available. East side, west side, no side had seen anything like HIM before.




"On to the blonde!"

"To the blonde!"


Cheerful, perky little Quatre went on a search to find his fellow pilots. It was time for their hour of bonding. He had made sure to institute one; everybody benefited from Bonding Hour! First he went to find Heero, the most difficult to convince. All he found was the remains of an anatomically correct hermaphroditic blow up doll. In fact it looked exactly like his father's.


Next, he searched for Wufei. Quatre passed him on the hallway and received the shock of his life. Wufei was blonde and swaying his way out the front door. He caught a whiff of some heavy cologne and the distinct flash of gold chains and white underwear. He ran to the front window, just in time to see his fellow pilot leave rubber marks in the driveway - making off with the black Porsche and pumping DMX loudly into the night.


Quatre slowly walked over to Duo's room. He paused at the gibbering screams and rhythmic thumpings. Did he want to go there? He peeked in, turned white, and closed the door quickly. He had caught a blurry vague impression of naked limbs moving in very fast motion. It also involved the free use of chains, silks, and an appreciation for the aesthetic bindings of both. And a pink bunny logo.


Last and finally, Quatre always had the least amount of trouble convincing Trowa, he hesitantly paused in front of Trowa's door. Here went nothing. Quatre immediately gasped and ran over to Trowa's side. The poor boy was curled up into a ball, apparently having fallen asleep. His bang was stuck to the floor. Deciding that questions could come later, he shook Trowa's shoulder gently. "Trowa?"

Trowa opened his eyes slowly, "Angel..."


"Angel... you've come to save me..."


"But I'm too soiled, too dirty, too beaten to be of any use to you."


"So leave me, angel, leave me!"

"But Trowa-"

"Leave me!! I do not deserve you, angel! My past... it separates us."


"I know you find it hard to believe, but this is for your own good. Angel..."

"Now, Trowa."

"Leave! Begone!! Go!"



"Ok... I'm leaving now."

"Oh, Angel..."

Quatre quickly made his way out the door, closed the door, and leaned against it. He shook his head, "What was with that? What was with *everyone*? What am I? Flypaper for freaks?" Blowing his front bags huffily in irritation, he still paused in consideration. Should he go back in there? Trowa did seem distraught and... Quatre hesitated.


"That was unexpected."

"What was?"

"The entire crush on the blonde with the whole angel thing tying in."

"Oh. Is that what it was."

"You sound disappointed."

"I am disappointed! I rather liked my masochist, angel, and Wayne's World theory."

"Mmm hmm."

"About that crush - why doesn't Trowa grab the blonde and have at him right there? The blonde looks like he could go a few rounds."

"First off, he doesn't feel worthy enough?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know, something horrifically scarring and tragic in his past I suppose. That's what the Angst o' matic is for, you know, so that we don't have to go all thinking and pontificating and stuff."

"What horrifically scarring and tragic past?"

"How would *I* know? You pressed the button. The Angst o' Matic doesn't tell you what the thing is."

"So it's a free for all?"

"Yup, like a roulette!"

"What are the slots?"

"Oh, you know... Orphan, living on the streets, watching the gruesome murder and disembowelment of your family, your friends, your dog Bob, your pet budgie, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, all of the above, finding out early baldness *is* hereditary, not having enough money, having too much money, nobody understands, devil worship, too much religion, wrong religion, persecution, buttering bread right side down, mental defects, physical defects, split personalities, not enough personality, overachiever, underachiever, over ambitious, addictions, depravations, delusions, and dicks!"



"That's quite a selection."

"Oh, it is, it is. And with the new Angst o' matic II it also comes with 100+ more tragic pasts, deadly terminal and inexplicable diseases, unwanted pregnancies (no matter the sex or lack thereof), and the newly developed Memory loss o' rama!"

"Wow! Ain't technology grand?"

"Of course!"

"So what should we hit the blonde with?"

"Hmm... a low sense of self worth goes excellent with angst, but nothing's ever *accomplished*."

"True. How about delusions of grandeur and angst?"

"That's like apples and oranges, my dear identical fuck up fairy, apples and oranges."

"A complex?"

"I like it! What sort?"

"A father complex of course! I mean Papa Winner got sent to another dimension right in front of Quatre's eyes! Besides, a sister complex just wouldn't work. Can you picture the tall guy as a small blonde petite woman?"[5]

"If I was very drunk; very very drunk and half blind."

"Exactly! So a first-class father complex along with a healthy vein of

guilt... Oooh! Lookie, lookie, we already have a nice deep deposit of guilt, loaded and ready to go!"

"Might I suggest something?"

"Of course, dear sibling of mine."

"A generous heaping of vicious cycle should go *beautifully* with the complexes and angst."

"Oooh! Clever, clever. Loving both the boy and the father, feeling guilt and helplessness over the father's death, super impose the father over the boy, even more helplessness in the face of the boy's past and current state, and then more guilt! This will be our masterpiece! Our chef d'oeuvre! Our piece de resistance!"

"I'm getting chills!"

"They're multiplying!"

"And I'm losing control!"

"And the power, you're supplying... Wait, we shall have our finale and curtain while we seal the blonde's fate!"[6]

"Too right!"

"For we are..."

Both, "The Identical Fuckup Fairies!"


It was much, much later when Sally Po arrived at the safe house, a sullen, cussing, and thoroughly trussed up Wufei locked safely in the trunk. She had found the boy in Chinatown. He had already wrested control over a local street gang - the Dragons of Justice - and was working on increasing his territory by taking over a nearby nightclub. Worried that none of her calls to the temporary base had been answered, the number being oh so conveniently stored under 'crib' on Wufei's cell, she decided to check on the others.

What she found, upon examining the rooms, did *nothing* to allay her fears. However seeing the 'business card', ie a pamphlet for the Angst 'o Matic II, comprehension set in. "Ahh... I see the fuckup fairies has visited us again."


Ye merry olde ende


[1] Seriously ^_^ His bio, on an official description or some sort, lists him with all these features (lit. Many may mistake him for a girl o.O), and he's called the Terrible Soldier (I think they were going for Terrifying...) and Trowa is actually the Perfect Soldier *g*

[2] Something me and tro came up with - the only thing that could make Sanzo an weeping uke in fact... The Crack Pipe of Weeping Ukes...

[3] Rugrats. Rugrats in this context. Ye gods I am sick. *g*

[4] *snickers* Is how one of my friends described him...

[5] *cackles* Dragonballz dubbed, goku was sent to another dimension~~~

[6] sing along everyone!

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