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Fanfiction ► We're All Mad Here

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Vampire Fish
Jan 1, 2005
Fleet Street
Disclaimer: I prayed that the lord may grant me three things. The liscence to Kingdom Hearts, queer Sora, and a new cornocopia of Axel footage. Oh well. Two outta three.

Author's Gutter: Lemme give you readers the lowdown. One day, Shiznap told Clam that she was in the production of Alice and Wonderland. Clammy heard it wrong and gave birth to a crack baby named 'We're All Mad Here'. She watched WAMH grow into a nice little oneshot, but wait, it didn't stop growing!

Thus, in a need to make up for the lack of child support, Clammy built her first Kingdom Hearts fan fiction. Mix an emo Roxas, add a teaspoon of Mad Hatter Axel, and pour a half cup of crack into the bowl, and you have a recipe for disaster.

Warnings: By majority, this is a yaoi fan fiction that focuses on Akuroku, Zemyx, Rikusora, CloudLeon and a variety of others. There will be some heterosexual love, because the population would decrease drastically if everyone was gay.

If musical arts are your thing, you stepped into the right crack fic, my friend. Moulin Rouge, RENT, Director Xemnas, yaoi, tea, tyrannical queen Larxene and some poor blonde boy to face it all. Welcome to Wonderland.

We're All Mad Here

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

Prologue: The Cast List

I’ve heard it said that good things come to those who wait. That, if you believe, you can do anything-be anything you want to be. Well, in my opinion, that is complete and utter crap. I’ve been playing the waiting game for four years, eleven months and six days. I haven’t received my just reward.

You’d think that after all that faithful service, I would have gotten something. A gift basket or perhaps a bottle of apple cider. It’s just like with Santa. You could be the golden child for a whole year, listening to your parents, not eating paste, and tolerating your crybaby banshee of a brother, but you still only get a box of Leggos instead of that Bionicle set because your dad was on the unemployment bandwagon.

Faith and trust can only take you so far, if you ask me. Reality isn’t like those inspiring, Technicolor Disney movies we used to watch when we were young. There is no Neverland and nothing can stop us from growing up. Peter Pan and Wonderland are nothing but childish stories.

Maybe that’s why such heartwarming lies were created; to distract us from our bitter reality.

Faith, trust, and pixie dust? Believing that you can, doesn’t mean you can. Praying, hoping, and trusting in yourself doesn't guarantee that your story will have a happily ever after ending. I’ve prayed, and for all the prayers I’ve composed, I could be the freakin’ pope. You could pray every day, believe that things will turn out right in the end, but the in the end, they don’t always turn out with you riding away in a carriage with your prince charming.

Nearly five years have passed, and I didn’t think that it would still hurt like this. Wives leave their husbands every day; mothers leave their kids behind to pursue a new life with their pretty-boy tennis instructor. The bottom line is, it happens, and it hits you like a ton of bricks. The shock may dissipate, but the bruise will still be there. There is no such thing as fairy tales. At least, my life hasn’t been one.

Maybe I should explain.

See, when my brother and I were just beginning to learn that the world wasn’t full of gallant heroes and magical princesses, we came home to a shocking realization. Who expects to come home to a note from your mom that said she was never coming back? We may not have been the Brady Bunch, but I didn’t think we were that dysfunctional.

Guess I was wrong.

I still haven’t forgotten that autumn day, the afternoon when our mother decided that it was perfectly acceptable to leave without even saying goodbye to her sons. Sora and I had just come home from our first soccer game of the season, still relishing the sweet taste of victory. You know how kids are. We’d prattle on for hours if you adults didn’t swiftly change the subject in order to distract us. My bubbly sibling was still reenacting the marvelous story of how he scored the winning goal.

I can still hear the boy next door screaming as Sora kicked his pet moomba as part of his reenactment. I had left my twin to face the outraged owner to change out of my shin guards. Have you ever worn those? I mean, damn! The sweat just builds under those things.

But, I digress.

While Sora endured the high-pitched roars of our neighbor, I skipped past my mom’s garden. The cherry red poppies were the only flower that really looked like they had any life left in them. The indigo irises and the lilacs were partially wilted and resembled burned out candles more than flowers, if you ask me.

I had hopped the last incline on our doorstep, pushed open the screen door with my free hand and made sure not to slam it. Mom always told us not to let the screen door slam. It was second nature for me, but Sora has some short-term memory loss about it-even after being told at least two hundred times.

I remember passing through the expanse of our cosy living room to head for the kitchen. Some sea-salt ice cream sounded great. I felt I deserved a little reward for my efforts in our victory game. My dad was at the table, his back to me. “Probably reading the newspaper or something,” I had thought as I opened the freezer. A lean cusine almost decapitated me, now that you mention it.

The package said ‘Roasted Turkey and Mashed Potatoes’, which only meant that Sora was the last one to use the freezer. I’d made a mental note to dress my brother up like the cocker-spaniel three doors down while he was sleeping. Let him wake up to our golden retriever, Tamaki, like that. Vengance would be mine alright. Our fool of a dog would leave puddles all over the floor if you so much as mentioned Haruhi.

“Hey, Dad? Where’s Mom?”

I let a good five seconds sink between us. “Dad?” Now, my father wasn’t the type to blatantly ignore our questions. He was the ‘let me share my experiences’ type. The fact that he wasn’t answering such a simple question was odd. “Adults and their newspapers…”

Taking a lick of my mint blue treat, I headed towards the stairs. “Mom!” No answer. Furrowing my brows, I shouted louder.


“You’re mother isn’t here, Roxas.”

Looking over at my father, he was still leaning over the table like some frail shell of a man. Why were his shoulders quivering? “Where is she, Dad?’

“She’s gone.”

“And that, children, is where babies come from.”

Twenty-five pairs of eyes took a slow collective blink at the professor’s closing statement. After forty-two minutes of hearing a man who believed that a shaving razor was the most satanic prospect since Harry Potter, rant on about how a man must navigate through the deep, dark caverns of a woman’s unmentionables in order to send several pods to their destination, they were at a loss for words.

Roxas was honestly questioning Professor Xaldin’s wording of, ‘Disembark in the Uterus that Never Was.’ Really, how could there be a uterus that never existed? Wouldn’t that mean that the uterus never existed at all? The blonde decided against raising his hand to ask, for the man was splayed out on his desk sharpening a fearsome set of lance knives.

How their teacher managed to smuggle those into the school was another one of those questions no student dared to ask.

It was an unspoken law in Xaldin’s classroom that it would be absolutely silent whilst the professor doted on his beloved lances. They had learned the consequences the hard way. Seifer had the scar to prove it, which was probably why he transferred out of this class as soon as he was discharged from Twilight General Hospital.

“That was some day,” Roxas reminisced, recalling how the indigo blade had flown right by his left ear, snagging some of his blonde hair with it as it went for the bridge of Seifer’s nose. His assaulted hair had grown back, but even more unruly and spiky than it was previously. It was no wonder that everyone called him ‘Chocobo Head’. The blonde kept a tally of the people he planned to curse for such an immature title. So far, he was on 68.

The bell rang.

Well, shouted, actually. See, here at Eventide High, the bells don’t ring like normal ones would. With the climax of every class, the students plug their ears for the deep, maniacal shout of, “DARKNESS! TRUE DARKNESS!” Principal Ansem takes the liberty to personalize the bell-system, but doesn’t have any quarries with identity theft.

By now, Roxas had built up immunity to the principal’s dulcet tone. Thus, he stood, barely paying attention to how Raijin, school-proclaimed Monkey Man, tumbled out of his chair at the bell, exclaiming, “That’s loud, y’know!” Yes, young Roxas Strife attended a school of bumbling idiots.


As if on cue, the Puba of Idiocy sprinted through the door. His Majesty shoved four students aside, jumped a hurdle over a desk, and wrapped his arms around Roxas’s neck. “Roxy, I missed you!” the musician cried before burying his face in Roxas’s golden hair, inhaling deeply.

“Demyx, I just saw you forty-two minutes ago, on the dot.” Roxas was used to the violation of his personal space by now. Shaking his captor off wasn’t an option, so he settled for dragging the deadweight to the door, praying that his spinal column would not snap. “B-But, Roxy! With every minute you and I are apart, my heart breaks a little!” Roxas halted for a moment, looking up at the face buried in his hair. “You’ve been reading your mother’s romance novels again, haven’t you?”

The sophomore’s large cerulean eyes darted from side to side, as if watching an invisible tennis match, “They’re so romantic though, Roxy,” he argued, leaning over the smaller boy’s shoulder with an prominent pout. Resuming the trek, Roxas heaved a great sigh of, “That’s why they are called romance novels, Demyx.” While the carry-on was busy evaluating his debate, the smaller managed to shrug him off. One word. One word at a playground, and Roxas was stuck with this hyperactive fool for the rest of his life. Good manners his mother had called it, urging him to say hello to the boy hanging from the monkey bars. Well, she was always reliable, wasn’t she?

Bitterness swept through Roxas, a cold that came with the force and speed of a gale, knocking every pleasant thought from his mind. He still couldn’t get over it. With a set jaw and a glare aimed at the black and white tiles, Roxas did his best to keep composure. “Roxas?” Demyx’s soft, concerned voice breached the tempest, and drew Roxas from the eye of the storm.

“I’ve been calling you,” he interjected. “Are you okay, Roxas?” When that familiar involuntary blush swathed Roxas’s face in a pink glow, he realized that he had done it again. “I’m fine!” The blush spread to his neck, his ears generating heat like he was some sort of Flareon. Demyx remained unconvinced, pursuing the flushed male as he tried to escape. “Do you want to go to Nurse Valentine, Roxy?” The thought of sitting with that zombie in a room that was more like a coffin than an infirmary sent shivers down Roxas’s spine.

“I’d rather risk shining a flashlight in Principal Ansem’s face.”

The two shared a moment of laughter, which was rekindled by Demyx’s involuntary snort not long after. This is what high school was all about. At leas that was what those forty five cent Hallmark graduation cards said. Roxas often wondered if the people who wrote those inscriptions on the greeting cards ever felt that way, or were they just a slave to inspiration and a reality they fabricated to mold the world into the perfect shape.

It was mad to think like that, though.

When the scenery suddenly shifted to a dimly lit hallway with a series of musical instruments, ranging from pianos to tubas, packed against the wall, Roxas gathered that they were in the drama wing. “Demyx, what are we doing here?” Without an answer, the boy with the IQ of a cupcake dragged his blonde accomplice through the auditorium door.

“Well, reap my cheese!”

Demyx was an odd little mullet-head.

Roxas eyed the gaggle of giggling girls with the typical male eye-roll, which translated into, “Girls…” However, even Roxas had to do a double take when he spotted a few males amongst the herd. “There’s one in every flock,” He muttered, turning to dump his backpack into the nearest available chair.

“Hey, Roxas, isn’t that Sora laughing with those girls over there?”

Roxas’s brain might as well have been attacked by a mental terrorist, because in his haste to turn around, he did a complete flip over the row of seats. Demyx gasped at the stream of profanity Roxas muttered against the tiled floor.

“Isn’t it a little early to be going to second base with the floor, Roxas?”

“Kill me now, God.”

Peering over the row which Roxas had cartwheeled over just moments ago was a man-well, not really a man; he was more of a drag queen, actually. The…man-thing’s deep blue eyes twinkled as they peered down at Roxas, leaving glitter all over the upholstery. Roxas’s rather nasty slur was drowned out by Demyx’s overjoyed shriek of, “MARLY!”

“Honestly, buy her a drink first, Roxie.”

Someone paged the idiot brigade.

Too frustrated to choose his words, Roxas offered the speaker a fiery glare before getting to his feet. Walking the length of the aisle was a man with an hourglass figure that could put Shakira’s hips to shame. Not to mention that he looked like he was suffering from a severe case of buhlemia or anorexia, otherwise known as ‘Stupid-Conforming-Teenager-Syndrome.’


Spread the word.

He may be an asshole with the tendency to burn every flammable object in sight and he may have a severe case of hedgehog hair, but there was no lying that the redhead was, as the elderly put it, a fox.

Pale skin was thrown into greater contrast as the speaker stepped into the light, his flaming red hair fanning out behind him, almost mocking Isaac Newton. The verdigris eyes of the junior dissected the taut muscles of Roxas’s body, grinning at the view as the freshman got to his feet. With a smug smile, he publicly declared, “I’d tap that.”

Oh, it was bad enough that Roxas may or may not have chipped his tooth on that damn floor! It was bad enough that his kneecap may have been dislocated during the fall! It was bad enough that his brother was singing ‘Man, I Feel like a Woman’ on the stage, but now he was being undressed by that asshole’s despicably beautiful eyes!

If Roxas wasn’t an honors student, he might have committed a felony right there.

He shoved past Marluxia, not caring that the pink haired man’s gayness was going to stain his shirt, only to hear Demyx ask, “Tap what?” Then, just like that, Roxas died. He was honored in a farewell ceremony two days later, where his father sought comfort in the mailman and Sora decided to become a nun. Neither of them really recovered from the instant where Principal Ansem flung himself on the casket and began belting ‘My Heart Will Go On’.

Nah, I’m just kidding. On the contrary, Roxas did keep his sanity by repeatedly humming a merry tune over and over again. He did not smash his head against the nearest surface. Honestly, why did animes do that? It wasn’t like it helped with the stress or made you forget. Since when is cracking open your skull beneficial?
“We can all hear you, Roxas.”

Was everyone out to get him?

Roxas, fortunately, did not have to deal with the newest member of the ‘Annoy the Hell Out of Roxas Club’. The teenager who entered was a man of few words, cutting as they may be. One snide comment and he would return to his dark little world. “I’m surprised you can hear me through all that knotted hair of yours.” The indigo haired male simply walked past Roxas, holding a book to his chest.

Roxas began a mental countdown.

“Three ... two ... one.…”


It was difficult enough to ignore Demyx, but when that musician caught sight of his boyfriend, well, you’d better get the hell out of the way. Marluxia was giggling, watching Demyx latch on to the stoic sophomore and begin nuzzling his cheek. Roxas tried not to look, but he could hear Demyx purring from four feet away.

“Get a room, you two.”

The blonde had almost forgotten that his harasser was still there. Actually, he didn’t even remember the redhead moving this close to him. “There’s no law saying you have to watch, Axel.” Zexion replied, wrapping his slender arms around Demyx’s tiny waist. When the redhead did nothing but chuckle, Roxas surveyed him, his eyes automatically narrowing into a hostile glare. Glaring was the default reaction, these days.

When your mother chided you with that age-old phrase, “If you keep making that face, it’ll stick!’ she really meant it. After making this face so many times prior, it was just natural for Roxas, like he was some machine. A machine with mechanical wheels and rotating tumblers. “

“Roxas?” Averting his gaze from Axel, azure eyes beheld a slender girl with gentle golden hair. Her ocean eyes were large and profound, and her tender smile was uplifting. “Namine.” For many a night had Roxas thought about her, the way her laugh almost lifted the gloom and how she hid behind him when they played Dodgeball in gym class.

“Don’t you want to see the cast list, Roxas?” She inquired, ambling towards him, blue plaid skirt sashaying at her calves. Ah, that’s why they were here, Roxas understood. “Not really. I didn’t audition for a role, Namine.” She stood a few inches shorter than he, her eyes much more captivating at this distance. “Right, but you joined stage crew. Didn’t you, Roxas?” Her tone was airy, interested in his opinion, like it mattered.

Opening his mouth to answer the delicate maiden, Roxas didn’t notice when someone ruffled his already untidy locks. “So, a TECHIE, eh?” Axel asked, gently tugging on the sunshine hair until he had Roxas locked in his viridian gaze. “What’s the matter, Roxie? Do you get stage-fright?” One had to wonder how someone so beautiful could be so completely infuriating.

Who was this foocracker anyway?

“No,” Roxas hissed, whapping at Axel’s intrusive hand. “I prefer to work behind the scenes is all.” The blonde’s azure eyes indicated that he would enjoy nothing more than forcibly wiping that smile off Axel’s face. “What about you, Axel?” Once addressed, Axel peered down at Namine, who regarded him with sincere significance.

“Oh, I was born for the theater, darling!” He boomed, striking a dramatic pose.

“Good lord...” Roxas muttered while delicate Namine giggled with a laugh like tinkling glass. Onlookers shot Axel amused smiles while others just backed away as if he were carrying the plague, something Roxas seemed to notice in Axel’s stead. The moment was over sooner that Roxas had anticipated, because Namine had just grabbed both his and Axel’s hands, trying to tow them towards the cast sheet.

How Namine, a five foot four girl, managed to drag Roxas and a six foot junior, is beyond anyone’s comprehension.

“Come on, Namine. Aren’t we supposed to follow the white rabbit, not be dragged by it?” Axel complained, unable to break the girl’s iron grip. Roxas analyzed his words for a moment. That’s right. The production that Eventide High was putting on this year was Alice in Wonderland. Students had been skeptical about putting on such a scattered and confusing story, most of them claiming that every character in Wonderland was on crack.

After seeing the Disney version, it wasn’t hard to see why.

Only when Roxas nearly tripped over a secondary character did he notice that Axel had his hand, and he was part of a three-person skipping line. Being the distant, self-conscious person he was, Roxas quickly jerked his hand out of Axel’s persistent grip.

“Why do you keep touching me?”

The redhead simply reclaimed Roxas’s company, seizing him by the wrist. “Come on, Roxie! Get in the spirit of things!” His grin was wide and contagious. “Yeah, Roxas!” Namine giggled, craning her head towards him to give him an encouraging smile. Roxas half expected them both to turn on him and insist they go to Candy Mountain. For the pretty little girl’s sake, Roxas cracked a completely fake smile. You could tell it was a fake smile, because he looked like the guy from the Shining.

Even as he cracked that ‘Here’s Johnny’ grin, he spent the rest of the trip trying to wrench out of Axel’s grip. His hand was surprisingly gentle, yet firm. It made no sense that he couldn’t break free.

“Roxas, my love!” A brunette boy with impossibly spiky hair screamed after catching sight of poor unfortunate Roxas. Safe in his three-person parade, Roxas believed that there was no way he could be assaulted. That is, until he noticed that Axel and Namine had abandoned him in their rush to see the cast list.


No sooner had Roxas braced his poor spine, than the hurtling brunette mass collided with him. “RoxasroxasroxasROXAS!” It screamed, shaking his blonde counterpart by the front of his uniform. “Yes, Sora?” He replied, sighing. “Guess what!”


“I GOT THE WHITE RABBIT!” Sora shrieked, his voice climbing up three octaves. Bystanders clutched their bleeding ear drums as the high frequency hit them. “That’s wonderful, Sora,” Roxas muttered with no enthusiasm. Apparently, this was a bad move. Sora’s huge oceanic eyes focused on his twin’s face, a pout forming on his adorable face. Always a bad sign.

“Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills….”

Oh, dear lord.

“When life gotcha down, you know what you gotta do?”

“I don’t want to know what you gotta do, Sora!” Roxas begged.

Roxas watched in horror as his twin inhaled deeply.



Here it comes.


Tortured, Roxas slumped against a nearby chair. Ignoring Sora’s continuous cries of the same phrase was impossible. Watching him skip around the span of the auditorium was just plain embarrassing. After fifteen years, Roxas still couldn’t say he was used to his spastic brother’s antics.

“This day just keeps getting better and better,” The crestfallen blonde murmured, eyes a mess of exhaustion and bitterness. Roxas was never one to indulge in the high of happiness; it just never seemed to calm the aches. Someone should just come up and write start playing the world’s smallest violin.

It was when things had fallen far too quiet, that Roxas knew something must be wrong. Normally, it was futile to try to stop Sora from being an idiot. Then again, he was an idiot, there was no changing that. Nevertheless, his fool of a brother was silent, which meant something.

“Children of the Revolution!” A booming voice from above shouted.

Heads turned skyward-well, balconyward.

There, perched on the edge of the balcony was a man with silver hair, which was tied up into a neat bun, and a Jamaican tan. How odd. His eyes were fiery amber and he was clad in a formal suit. The students ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed as he took hold of the suspension cord and took a leap from the balcony.

Many clapped, others laughed…and some…some just stared.

When the cord snapped, while he was about fifteen feet above the stage, girls screamed. Sora’s scream was by far the loudest.

Even Roxas jumped up from his seat with wide eyes as the unknown man tumbled through the air. He was sure to break a leg or some other appendage that much was obvious. However, with a loud BANG, the select few who had closed their eyes opened them to behold a sight to see.

“Ah. Thank you, Saix.” The unknown kamikaze said to an intimidating man with royal blue hair. Said man was sprawled out across the stage, the argent haired man sitting on his back. “No problem, sir.” The rescuer, Saix, coughed. Though, from what Roxas could see, it certainly was a problem. Catching a 180 pound man from a fifteen feet fall…on your spine …was no easy feat.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the olive skinned man stood to dust himself off. Looking around, a few people had collapsed in awe; others were still marked with terrified expressions. If the kamikaze noticed this he didn’t show it. On the contrary, he reached up to tear the tie from his bun.

Many gasped.

It was like a moment from an L’Oreal commercial. Lustrous hair fanned out into the air, in slow-motion. The fluorescents caught the bright highlights of his magnificent mane, shimmering as if it were liquid silver. It was at this moment, that Roxas knew there was something very wrong with this man.

“How’s he do that?” Demyx asked his cobalt eyes round as dinner plates.

“Maybe he’s born with it,” Sora breathed.

“Maybe it’s Maybelline!” Marluxia interjected. Roxas trusted Marluxia. He was the authority on makeup and hair products.

“My children, I am your humble director Xemnas.” The man clarified, sweeping into a deep bow. Yep. He was a nut. “I am here to supervise and instruct you little bohemians on how to properly orchestrate a production such as this.” The man’s voice practically spilled arrogance all over the floor.

Nuttier than a squirrel turd.

“For the next weeks of your life, you will live breathe and eat theater, do you understand me?” The students, unsure of what else to do, nodded in assurance. “Wonderful. He’s one of those spirited ‘Remember the Titans’ people.”

Roxas’s bitter trail of thought was cut short when he heard Axel mutter something to the Pre-Madonna and the three other bumbling fools. “Hey, hey, rearrange the letters in Xemnas’s name.” After a matter of seconds, a grimace spread across Roxas’s lips. Marluxia had dove into a fit of giggles, while Zexion uttered something along the lines of, “Imbeciles.”

Our young hero was not surprised to see that Sora and Demyx had not yet arrived at the answer. Demyx was mouthing letters, counting them off on his fingers, while Sora was tugging on Axel’s arm, begging the redhead to enlighten him. “Ansem! It spells Ansem,” Sora whispered, a victorious gleam in his eyes. Marluxia surveyed him. “What about the ‘X’?”


Their ‘humble’ director had not heard his name smeared, but the cerulean haired man apparently had, like he was part wolf or something. Roxas folded his hands in his lap, debating whether to leave when no one was paying attention. Really, Xemnas wouldn’t make them build anything today. Right? “Now, if you’ll avert your attention to the cast list, you will find the role which you have been deemed accepta-,”


Oh, Demyx.

A stream of giggles erupted from every cultured student in the auditorium. Axel and Marluxia looked like they were about to wet themselves, but Demyx was still grinning, very proud of himself indeed. There was no possible way that Xemnas didn’t hear that, he actually jumped, scattering his papers everywhere.

“There will be none of that during school hou-,”

Before he could utter another word, Sora piped up, “I thought practice wasn’t scheduled during school hours?” Xemnas’s amber eyes were thoughtful, and he scratched his chin for a moment. “…I suppose you’re right.”
“Hear, that, Zexion? Mansex. The thing you and Demyx do.” Axel grinned. Unfazed, the indigo haired male merely continued reading his novel, only pausing to say, “As in the thing you don’t get any of, Axel.”

Ooh. Burned.

Axel moved so he was right against Demyx’s shoulder, where he replied with a low, “Not since you and Dem started dating.” That drew the little bookworm from his passage of emo. The redhead smirked at the venomous glare Zexion shot at him, which clearly said ‘I will shove a raccoon up your tailpipe.’ Demyx, who was still taking pride in his work, was smiling, too dense to make out one word of Axel’s comment.

“If you boys are quite finished with your little tea party, perhaps we can go over the cast list.”

Roxas failed to suppress the smirk that crept across his face, and immediately felt a strong sensation of gratitude to Xemnas. The buffoons had grinned, relishing the attention, while Demyx and Sora shot Xemnas guilty pouts.

“Alright then. To clarify, we will go over the list for any latecomers,” Xemnas began. “Our White Rabbit is Sora Strife.”

A victorious, but shrill cry of victory.

“The Mock Turtle is Cloud Strife.”

Roxas nearly tumbled out of his chair. Since when had his oldest brother given a shit about the school play?! Eyes scouring the seats, he finally found his brother’s enormous hair, which wasn’t that hard to miss.

Roxas blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Cloud had given no sign that he heard Xemnas, or that he was remotely thrilled about this. Being the oldest child in the Strife family, Cloud was a senior in high school, the year where everything was supposed to be laidback. The elder’s amazingly spiky hair was much like Sora’s, save for the golden color which matched Roxas’s.

He could even rival Roxas’s emo, apathetic personality. That took skill.

“What the hell, man?” Sora gasped, materializing over his twin’s shoulder. “Why do you think Mr. Frostypants auditioned?” Roxas paused, knowing full well that Sora often referred to Roxas himself that way. “I bet Leon is around here somewhere,” He muttered.

“The Mouse is Mickey.”

The twins looked three rows ahead to see a kid with abnormally large ears smiling at Xemnas.

“Lory the Parrot will be Zexion.”

In the back row, Zexion nodded once, without looking up, as Demyx squealed and proceeded to hug him around the waist. Axel and Marluxia exchanged amused glances.

“Dodo is Hayner.”

Roxas raised a skeptical eyebrow at this news. His friend certainly didn’t have the dedication that the others here possessed. Yet, there he was, whooping in joy with that huge grin. He vaguely wondered if he would even look at the script. Hayner was a procrastinator, after all.

“Our Red Queen will be Kairi.”

The cute little redhead in the first row grinned up at Xemnas before exchanging a giggle with Namine. Knowing Kairi, this role shouldn’t take too much of her effort. That girl could be a holy terror left without her Midol.

Xemnas read the next couple names fairly quickly, naming two of Sora’s friends, Donald and Goofy, as Card Soldiers, a student teacher named Vexen the Caterpillar, Pence the Door Mouse, Yuffie the Knave of Hearts, and Riku the March Hare. Sora openly shouted, “That’s my man!” when Xemnas called Riku’s name.

It took Mansex a little while to reclaim the audience’s attention after that.

“Now, these next few roles are perhaps the most crucial to the survival of the production. Thus, I do not want anyone to feel like a pile of crap because you didn’t get a part. Even though, really, this means you have no talent whatsoever. Anyway…”

A hush fell over the crowd.

“Our Duchess is Marluxia. Everyone please give a hand to Marl-,”

“WHAT THE HELL!? Isn’t the duchess a woman? I am a man,” The frazzled beauty queen screamed, placing a hand on his pivoted hip. Xemnas looked up at him with an astounded expression. “Really?”

“Yes, really!”

After a few moments, Xemnas looked away and said, “Oh. Well, you can pull it off.” Marluxia glared at the silver haired male before flipping his pink hair with a little ‘hmph’.

“Our Cheshire Cat will be Demyx.” Loud screams of delight from the back, followed by Zexion’s cracking spine.

“Wait, I thought I was the Cheshire Cat!” A brunette girl from the fourth row interjected, doing her best to glare at Demyx. So far, she was failing. Pushing a pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose, Xemnas coughed, “Ah…I see what you mean, Mimi.” However, the Melodious Nocturne, as the band members called him, would not be rejected.

“No, I want to be the Cheshire Cat,” Demyx whined, tightening his grip on Zexion’s splintering backbone. Roxas felt the migraine coming on as the two relayed arguments, a few choice curse words and a lot of crying.


Xemnas’s mug exploded in his hand, spilling white shards and coffee all over the floor. “Saix, get me another espresso, will you?” He ordered, still keeping his eyes on the feuding students. Saix nodded with a short reply of, “Of course, sir.” What Xemnas didn’t see was Saix promptly kicking a random child and say, “Go get Xemnas an espresso.” The child left, clutching his tibia.

Once the Cheshire matter had been resolved, ending with the two playing the role on different nights, Xemnas cleared his throat. “Now, our Queen of Hearts will be Larxene.” Nobody said a word. Nobody said a word because, every actor in this auditorium just walked into Shitville.

“Why thank you, Xemnas.” The laugh that came out of that blonde woman’s mouth chilled Roxas to the bone. The Mayor of Shitville then turned in her seat to lock everyone in her aquamarine gaze. A few burst into tears while others just trembled. Hell hath no fury like a Larxene in power.

“Try not to maim the students, Larxene.”

“No promises.”

Roxas was really beginning to regret ever joining the stage crew. There were sure to be casualties with her around. A week ago, she managed to impale a boy with a steak-knife and make it look like an accident. ‘He ran into the knife, I swear.’

“Moving right along. The lovely flower of our play: Alice. Our curious little explorer shall be Namine.” Roxas instantly felt a wave of delight, something very hard to come by with him. He could see Namine smiling, attempting to hide the radiant blush spreading across her face. Her circle of friends were cheering, hugging her and saying “OMG” over and over again.

It was like girls were a completely different species.

Amongst the crowd, a few girls threw hostile glances at the newly appointed Alice before storming out of the auditorium. “Yes. Now, our Mad Hatter and the Romeo to Alice’s Juliet is Axel.”

Roxas was sure that he didn’t hear that correctly.

There had to be some sort of mistake.

Yet, Axel was still getting to his feet and falling into a low bow as people cheered for him. Axel could NOT be the Mad Hatter; it just wasn’t possible, Roxas concluded, eyeing the redhead with disgust. How could someone like him be the set match to Namine?

God had an awfully cruel sense of humor.

Still, Roxas was one to make emo not war. Instead of vocally declaring his opinion, he resorted to glaring at the bigot who would play his dream girl’s lover. He proceeded to crush the armrests of his chair. If mental annihilation via glare were possible, Axel would be reduced to a smoldering pile of ash right about now.

He pretended not to notice when the flaming fool and he meant that literally, pranced over towards Sora. “Kudos, Axel.” He heard his brother exclaim, and wanted to shove an ice cream cone upside his retna. “Always glad to hear that from my fans.” Remaining indifferent to the junior’s presence was hard enough, but it was downright impossible when he felt warm breath on the side of his face.

“What’s eating Blondie?”

So now he had a pet name? Wonderful.

“He’s had a severe case of PMS ever since the Alice announcement,” Sora offered. Snorting, Roxas questioned the authenticity of the phrase ‘blood is thicker than water’. His inner rant was cut short when a pair of viridian eyes came within few centimeters of his face. “Aw, he’s just jealous because he wishes that he was Alice.”

There was a yelp, a gasp, and a cry of, “My balls!”

All within the span of two point five seconds. What followed the unmistakable sound of stomping feet was Sora’s high cry of, “Roxas! The judge said one more offense and you’d be sentenced to community service!”

It took him a good seven milliseconds to sweep through the one open door and out into senior hallway. Any other time, there would be upperclassmen congregating at the windows and other assorted areas. Roxas took note of the ‘No Smoking’ signs at either entrance of the hall, and figured he should abide by the law, and take his smoldering ears elsewhere.

When the antagonist reached the outer walls of the high school, he threw the door open, which smashed the janitor, Ragetti, in the face. “That son of a bitch!” His muscles were twitching like he had just injected Red Bull into his bloodstream. While Roxas seethed, the janitor was crawling across the ground, looking for his wooden eye. Janitors don’t get paid enough for those fancy shmancy glass eyes, you know.

Sir-PMS-A-Lots made no move to aid the bilge rat in his search for his ocular device, instead he collapsed onto one of the cement blocks that lined the granite stairs. Once seated, he clenched the sides of the block until his metacarpals shrieked in resistance.

You know when you are so angry that you cant do anything but fume and look for reasons to blame the other. Roxas heaved a great hiss/sigh/snarl/bellow, tracing the letters on the cement block with his fingers. Oh how he hated that smug-faced little assmuffin.

That fool’s voice kept ringing in his ears, and Roxas kicked at the stairs, which only resulted in the painful sensation up his big toe. “Damn asshole,” He hissed, blaming his toe-trauma on Axel. Tears did not prickle at the corner of Roxas’s eyes. He didn’t even sniffle in that adorable uke fashion.

Roxas was not a crybaby. Not anymore.

He sat on the steps, clenching his fist around his injured foot without bothering to remove his black converse. With the calm and relatively silent atmosphere, the boy was able to calm down. Going back inside after that, pretending that everything was normal, well that would be quite stupid of him. He had just destroyed Axel’s chance of producing any heirs after all.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notepad. He’d taken to carrying it around with him a few years back, for any random reason. Doodles, assignments, things to remember, tallies for those he would send to an early grave….Normal stuff. Flipping to the thirteenth page, he found his destination.

‘Those Who Have Dared to Call Me Chocobo Head and Will Have Their Intestines Given To Them as a Christmas Present’

Roxas promptly made a little dash that signified Axel at the end of the list and mentally counted to see what he was up to. It didn’t take long, really. What with it being basic math and the fact that these were counted off by sets of five.

Only when he reached the sum, did Roxas’s eye twitch.

There at the end of the list, following ‘Hayner’ and ‘Selphie’ was the name ‘Axel’.

Number 69.

Author's Gutter: Taste the crack yet, kids? Get used to it. I hope you enjoyed reading this sixteen page prologue. Yep, that's how long it is. And don't worry, I don't plan to use the first person to third person switch in the later chapters, Roxie just had to give you some background on his emosity.

In case it wasn't evident, AkuRoku is a definite in this realm. Zemyx will make it's feature presentation next chapter, and if you think that Dem-Dem's history is going to be as carefree as the other fics, guess again. Just wait till you hear where Zexion met Demyx.
I'd like to dedicate this fic to Krazy, who put up with me during my countless hours of bitching and probing questions. You rock, Krazy. Thelonepickle gets Clammy's Honorary Medal of Pwn, for Beta-ing this. Plus, she's just awesome. Look them up!

Oh! One more thing, if you want to see the fics that inspired me to write such crack, check out Carmine Complex and Surgeon General's Warning.

Now review, or you'll never get to see Marluxia pin Vexen to a lab-table.

NOTE: Do not biznatch to me about yaoi. I will take you DOWN. :3

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May 1, 2005
Wonderland. We're all mad here! :D
I call first post! Will edit with hilarity review!

Edit: ... :3 I luv u noesie. Have I told you that, lately? <33 I already reviewed on FF.net with everything I could say ... so ... um ... I love you! <3333


A Chagrined Fool.
Aug 3, 2005
People's Fragile Dreams, Relinquished from Anixiet
Hmmm… I wonder how many reps of mine it would take to claim I had not ‘bumped’ the thread as the term goes.

It was quite nice finding this story seeing how it was rather… Cracktastic as one may say, and highly amusing.

Though I am not one big for guy-to-guy couplings (with the few exceptions) I find this cute and adorable… Even if that is not the words aimed to be used at such a fic (or perhaps they are?).

I’m quite surprised that police officers or the sort don’t check the place out for crack, really (This is a sad attempt at a joke; bear with me).

It would be amusing to imagine anyhow…

If you would like, I could try my gander at constructive critism, though I am not too good in that field yet seeing there isn’t anything I can point out as of yet...

Haha! The whole reference to the mabollene (Spelling?) product was just awsome though, I loved how a set of jokes was always lined up for this fic, that and I feel sympathy for poor Marluxia, even though, it was coming to him, eh?

Hmm... I can already see a list of weekly reasons why police officers would come to the school... (Again, another sad attempt at a joke).

Please forgive me for ruining the trainquil silence that had occured in this thread.


P.S. Hmm… Who claims ownership to the word ‘critism’ I wonder?


I don't like bugs!
Jun 23, 2005
Ah! This is on KHI now!

>:O! I luv it! >:O! It's hilarious. XD

And if anyone Anti-Yaois at you, then they're dumb, 'cause they can't see the hilarity. :/ It's... so... funny. >.<


Mar 27, 2007
I can't believe I didn't see this sooner its very entertaining.


A Chagrined Fool.
Aug 3, 2005
People's Fragile Dreams, Relinquished from Anixiet
Hmm... It's intersting by 'bumping' this thread that members decide to post... Or rather I've always found such chain reactions interesting.

~End of spamming~


P.S. If there is to be an update, I shall wait patiently for it, I will not go back to the good ol' days where I used to organize angry mobs. I wonder how Bob is doing....
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