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Disclaimer: Roses are red, lawyers are greedy
We don't own Trigun, Cowboy Bebop, or Big O
So
please don't sue us, as we are financially needy.
Author's
Note: And no, I'm not making fun of anything aside from hallucinations and
the odd take on religion that this anime has. If you know me at all, you know I
wouldn't purposefully be insulting or
"Mush
Room In Here"
"Is that thing gettin' bigger or is it just me?" Wolfwood stared at the portable confessional after he had returned to his room, finally so intrigued by the box that he put out his cigarette and began examining the device.
"I bought this from someone else when I entered the trade. . .interesting craftsmanship, I never thought of that before, all I thought of was the money. . .though I've still never made much with it."
The box exploded before his sight as he felt himself being drawn inside it, not just his head but as if his entire body had shrunken to the size of a child's doll. "Never saw it like this before. . .it's a little dark, the light's coming from that thing on the wall. . .but it's so big, why am I so tiny. . .I'm shrinkin'." Wolfwood moves his floating body toward the light on the wall, wanting to examine this odd candle for some reason, then noticing that it is a firefly jar. "Fireflies are better than houseflies I guess. . .do houseflies become fireflies?"
"No, but heretics become excommunicants."
"What do you mean?"
"I am a firefly. I never was a housefly, never will be a housefly, and you, my friend, are so unknowledgeable that it makes me sick to listen to you!"
Wolfwood recoils at the albeit deserved insult. "Well, I never said-"
"Look and see."
"What are you anyway?"
"I am the new overseer for this diocese. My name is Buzz Buzz."
The world of the confessional whirls around him again. "Mid-Midvalley the Hornfreak?"
"Yeah, it's me, Midvalley the Hornfreak. I'm back for your listening pleasure because I have some things to confess. Could you hear me out, preacha-man?"
"I don't think I'm the best for that. What with our history and all-"
"You betrayed me, Nicholas D. Wolfwood."
"Then am I the best to listen to-"
"I'm going to make you listen to every word," Midvalley mumbles, with a slight evil glint in his eye. "Then we can skip out on this place and run away together-"
"N. . .no, no. . ."
"Like you could fight in your state-a doll with a shroom growing from your head. You are growing cute. I don't like cute."
"Milly
does. . ." Wolfwood screams as the words escape his mouth, as the
confessional whirls again.
Coins, double dollars, and monetary units Wolfwood hasn't even seen before come pouring in, flooding the confessional, sending him climbing first onto the desk, then onto the wall. "What's goin' on here-"
"You will drown in the riches you wished to make!"
"I never wanted riches-"
"You've got them anyway, now, don't you?"
"No, Buzz Buzz! Please, I'll give anything-"
"No, I'm giving you something to remember."
The
flood of money drives Wolfwood to a ferocious scramble up the wall, to the roof
window. He begins kicking at it, screaming, finally throwing himself through it.
What seems an eternity of time and space rushes past him, along with stained glass shards from the window, bullets, roses, a negotiator, mice, and so many other things that he cannot even count. The fall seems never to end, as he passes by almost anything familiar, as he falls into the depths of some body of water, as he slowly drifts, then as he falls past jagged rocks into a sky, then out from the window of another building.
"I fall to pieces. . . ."
The melody of an old country-music song that he had often heard on the satellite radio drifts through his mind as his body is falling through space, then through a strange red liquid, then through alcohol, then through a field of flowers, then onto Kuroneko.
"Nyao." The cat scratches, bouncing him into a fall yet again. . .
"I'm
fallin'! Someone, anything, help!" Wolfwood snaps back to somewhat
of a reality, feeling the bed under him and realizing that he's waving his arms
as if he is falling despite such intense head pain and nausea that has just made
its presence known.
The priest warily opens an eye that he had no idea was closed, seeing white clouds and large pools of water-but also the concerned faces of Jet, Ed, and Dorothy, who is cradling his daughter. "What is wrong with me? And why do you have Selphie?"
Jet nods at him. "How much of the mushroom casserole did you eat?"
"There was. . .somethin' wrong with it?" Wolfwood asks rather weakly as he reaches for the wastebasket. "I'm not exactly feelin' the best so if you all would mind takin' your leave right about now. . .ooh. . .I only had a half of a bite. I hated the taste and gave the rest to Milly, she loved it for some reas-no. Was there really somethin' wrong with it? And why's my vision goin' all crazy on me?"
"Well, yasee. . .there was a mixup and somehow some psychedelic mushrooms worked their way into the mix. So far, Ed, Dorothy, and now me've been checkin' on everyone to make sure they're OK. You can come with us if you want-you're gonna be normal really soon since you didn't eat that much. So far we found your blondie twin friends and Shortie."
"Are they all-"
"One of the twins had a few major league owies from a cactus. I wouldn't wanna be him when he comes back from his trip. The other was OK aside from bein' covered in garbage. Shortie was recoverin' good enough, although the report she typed was no good, obviously."
"That's great news. What with combining Tongari and Knives with dope, I'm surprised we're not all dead." Wolfwood sighs, resting his screaming head back on the pillow, hoping to fall asleep from the ordeal.
"So you need to rest a little more. . ." Ed throws the blanket over Wolfwood, but at that a rather plaintive cry echoes.
"Milly! That was her!" Wolfwood throws the blanket off of himself, uneasily standing because of the feeling that the floor is wavy and shaking.
"Where?"
"The backyard! Let's go!"