The Great Gunsmoke Smokeout

Disclaimer That Is Keeping Me Out Of Court: I do not own Trigun, the characters from it, the Great American Smokeout, alarm clocks, pacifiers, or anything else presented aside from my own characters or ideas. Suing isn't nice. Please don't do it, OK? *gives big puppy eyes*


                             "The Fifth Day-Conclusion, Another Fire, Another Fight, Once Again"

                        Milly turns a pan of bacon over on the cooking stove in the kitchen. "That smells great, honey."

                        "You haven't noticed in the last few-you are looking better today, darling! I told you it wouldn't be so hard!" She throws her arms around Wolfwood, forgetting the bacon left on the stove.

                        "I haven't wanted a cigarette so far today, honey. . .maybe I have quit for good."

                        "No maybe to it, Nicholas. . .Selphie and I are so proud of you, and you know what I've done? I knew you'd be better today, so I hired a sitter, and I bought you, me, Meryl, and Mr. Vash all tickets to this!" Milly holds out a flier.

                        "What is this. . .'The Great Gunsmoke Smokeout Awards Dinner And Dance. Come celebrate being smoke-free for five days with us here at Donnybrook Bistro. Cover charge $$50 double dollars per person, all proceeds go to December City Hospital Auxiliary.' Milly." Wolfwood quickly does the math in his head, at the same time slowly sinking into the chair.

                        "It benefits the hospital! And don't you want to celebrate too?" Milly smiles at that.

                        "Not on my salary, honey-"

                        "Don't think about money so much. Life isn't about money, darling."

                        "Money pays the bills, keeps the kids at the orphanage doin' well-"

                        "Consider it an investment in our relationship. We haven't had that much time away from Selphie since she was born, we never really had a honeymoon even."

                        "All right, all right. When's the time."

                        "Five o'clock tonight."

                        The bacon erupts into a fire covering the stovetop, as Milly grabs the fire extinguisher, soaking what would have been breakfast in a mass of inedible foam. "Sorry, darling."

                        "Don't worry. I think Tongari's eatin' at the Still Standing Café today, if what Meryl was screamin' last night about never fixin' him food again was any idea. It's his turn to buy, and besides, I need to tell him a little about the dinner tonight so he doesn't make a fool of all of us."

                        "Good idea."

                        Spike stares down the alleyway again. "Faye, are you absolutely certain? That looked like a little old man, not an escaped convict."

                        "Stop treating me like some kind of idiot, Spike. I'm telling you, I saw his face on a wanted poster when I was bailing you out! He's a wanted escaped con named Goseph 'Pappy' Nebraska. Rumor is, he destroyed a quarter of Inepril City with his cyborg mutant 'son.' Anyway, the sheriff offered a big reward."

                        "All right already, you don't have to be so loud, do you? C'mon." Spike quickly catches up with the convict.

                        "Now, are you coming quietly?"

                        "How did you ever find me?"

                        "Thank Lady Luck." Spike nods to Faye as the trio walk back to the sheriff's station.

                        "That-that's Nebraska! Where did you ever get him?"

                        "He was walking the alley down the street. Let me guess, our reward cards are no good here, are they?"

                        "Sorry about that. But your bail's refunded. . .all charges on the both of you are dropped, and here's two tickets to a dinner party tonight. Is that good enough?"

                        "More than good enough. Thanks."

                        Wolfwood smiles that night as he and Milly walk into Donnybrook Bistro. Everything seemed perfect: his tobacco cravings were far diminished, he was looking forward to both a good meal and some time not occupied with Selphie for either him or Milly, and for once, no disaster loomed on the horizon.

                        He casts an amused eye over to Meryl, wearing her usual clothes albeit with a gold-trimmed and tasseled cape instead of her normal cape, then to Vash, standing next to her and looking distinctly ill at ease in the tuxedo Meryl had apparently insisted on his wearing to the dinner.

                        

                        "Welcome to the first annual Great Gunsmoke Smokeout Awards Dinner. I'm your master of ceremonies, Roger Smith. . ."

                        Meryl glares at Vash, who has found the only plate of doughnuts at the table. "Stop stuffing your face! This is a formal dinner!"

                        "I'm very pleased to be here. As someone who stopped smoking myself, I realize how hard it is to do, and I am quite pleased to congratulate everyone here for not smoking for five whole days. It's been hard on some of us, a little less so on others, nevertheless it's an achievement that will save your money and your health. First of all, I want to announce that the dance floor is open for anyone who wishes to dance. Please welcome the Runaway Fire-"

                        A short, oddly pale redheaded woman leans next to Roger's ear. "Ahem, my lovely wife and assistant has just told me the correct name for the band is the Runaway Five. Sorry for the mistake, guys. Anyway, let's give it up for the Runnnnaaawwwaaay Fiiiiveeee!"

                        The seven band members step up to the stage and begin playing a rather upbeat jazz tune. "I wonder why they're called the Runaway Five. There's seven people there-"

                        Meryl watches Faye and Spike dancing as if they own the floor. "Come on, Vash. You can move rather fast and-"

                        "No. All I know is a few steps to a waltz that Rem-"

                        "Come on! Look, I'll lead-see, even Knives and Legato are there. . ."

                        "All right, Meryl. . ."

                        By the next dances, more people have gotten onto the dance floor, even Wolfwood and the somewhat staggering Milly. "Ishn't that sho cute? Lookie. . .Sempai and Mr. Vash looklike they're ballet dancers, jus' spinnin' roound."

                        "Milly, honey, how much of the punch did you have?"

                        "Ooh, aboot sirteheen cupth. I'm kinna sleepy, Nicky-chan."

                        "She only calls me that when she's absolutely bombed. I tasted that punch, it was almost one shot per cup. . .no wonder." Wolfwood sighs as Milly wobbles around the dance floor, as she almost falls onto him several times.

                        "That Milly! I can't believe that she would do this at a formal event! I'm going to go and tell her off right now-" Meryl begins to angrily walk to the other end of the floor, forgetting to catch Vash's hand in hers as he whirls right into Spike and Faye, sending all three into a heap in the floor.

                        "Hey! What in the world do you think you're doing!"

                        "I didn't mean to! Nothing!" Vash stands to brush himself off, realizing that he is holding one of the threads which had previously been holding Faye's gown up, as Faye holds the fallen side up with a hand.

                        "It had better be nothing, you pervert!" Spike appears almost ready to breathe fire.

                        "Really! Meryl was supposed to catch me and I just fell and-"

                        "Understood. Watch it, Tongari."

                        "Don't tell me you're calling me that too."

                        "It does fit, doesn't it."

                        "Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Spiegel-" Vash turns away to conceal the fact that his face is now almost the shade of the coat he left in the coat check.

                        "You forgot something. The thread."

                        "H. . .here, take it! I'm so sorry about that!"

                        "You Meryl?"

                        "Yeah. . .Faye! Long time no see-"

                        "I hope that you will pay for repairs to my dress."

                        "Repairs?"

                        "Yeah, don't you know anything? That idiot you're married to got his hand caught on the left thread when he fell on Spike and I because you ran off to yell at that drunk."

                        Meryl snarls, looking at the dress. "Look, I don't think anyone around here has sewing equipment small enough to repair a single thread."

                         "I'll have you know that this is high fashion and cost $400 dollars at-"

                         "You were cheated for such little clothing. If you walked out in the sun here in that you'd fry in a second."

                         "Are you insulting my superior sartorial elegance, shrimpy?"

                         "No, I'm insulting that you would even wear something so flimsy-"

                         "You're just jealous because you know you don't have the figure for it, Meryl."

                         "Now that is a lie and you know it-"

                         "I don't think they make this dress in ultra-petite."

                         "Now, I've had enough-"

                         "Ooo. . .Sempai and Mish Faye mustht really be goo friendth." Milly mumbles from the table over which she is now slumped.

                         "I thought they were yellin'. Anyway, I need to take a break, honey. Don't go anywhere or anything until I come back. I don't want you gettin' robbed or somethin'." Wolfwood sighs as he walks across the floor to the men's room, stopping along the way to stare in amazement at Legato leading Knives across the floor in a perfect tango. "Maybe I should have been a extortionist rather than a priest. Noooo! Get those thoughts outta your head, you're a man of the cloth-"

                         "Mmmm. . .I wanth shome pudding." Milly wobbles to her feet, looking around for pudding, her hazy vision finally landing on an impeccably dressed man with a small silver cup in his hand. She walks to the man. "Ith that pudding?"

                         "Madam, I am afraid you have had too much to drink," the butler harrumphs. "This is a caviar dish."

                         "Noo, ith pudding."

                         "I know what I am carrying. This is a caviar dish."

                         "I want my pudding!"

                         "Madam, do you not have a designated driver or-"

                         "I no wanna dethignated drivver! I WANT PUDDING!" Milly's scream is loud enough to make almost everyone take notice of her.

                         "For the final time, this is not pudding." The butler turns to leave.

                         "You donth have to be so rude about it! Meanie!" Within a second, the butler, Milly's arms wrapped around him, falls into Meryl, pushing her and a table full of food and drink onto Faye, who brushes herself off, then throws a glass at Meryl, missing and hitting someone else. That person picks up a chair, as someone else throws a plate.

                         Wolfwood realizes that Vash is standing next to him at the sinks in the restaurant's facilities. "You were dancin' pretty good back there. I'd give you a 5."

                         "Thanks. . .by the way, what is that noise out there? It sounds as if there is a major uproar or something-"

                         The Runaway Five dashes past them and the other men to the exit at the end of the men's room. "Fight! Fight! Get out of here!"

                         Wolfwood looks almost stunned. "This isn't some kind of lowbrow bar. What do they mean a figh-"

                         The butler staggers in, bruised and quite amazed. "This place is a madhouse! Everyone out there's fighting, I even got a lobster thrown at me, and it all started with the drunk wanting pudding-"

                         Vash and Wolfwood nod at each other rather knowingly. "Oh-"

                         "-No."                         

                         The men walk out to an almost surreal scene, dodging everything from tomatoes and cabbages being thrown in a massive food fight overflowing from the nearby kitchen to glasses and plates from the dining room nearby.

                         "All right, Wolfwood, baka, it's one on one!" Knives snarls. "I saw you looking at us earlier and-"

                         Vash realizes that he's alone as Knives and Wolfwood begin trading punches, attempting to move through the massive fight to the stage.

                        

                         "Calm down! Stop acting like children!" Roger realizes that his emcee job has suddenly intersected with his negotiator job, as he and Dorothy begin screaming from the stage at the roomful of combatants that is the aptly-named Donnybrook Bistro. "Stop this fight at once! You are all adults here, you don't need to act like this-" he notices the blonde man climbing onto the stage and prepares to fight a drunk.

                         "I'm unarmed! I want to help you!"

                         "Thanks, man-I need all I can get! What is wrong with these people?"

                         "Love and peace! Love and peace! Love and peace!" That has no more effect than Roger and Dorothy's attempts at calming the boiling crowd, and Vash hears the lately all too familiar sound of the sheriff's car outside, looking around to see that the combatants are tearing down the pillars supporting the roof. Roger and Dorothy echo the next yell. "Everybody OUT!"

                         Thankfully, the building has many exits, and the android is able to hold the roof for a few minutes as the brawl spills out into the street and the place of its origination falls in upon itself.

                         The sheriff runs to the uninvolved trio. "You're all deputized! I've deputized the Bernardelli people and called in for marshals!"

                         Over the next hours, the combatants are all finally caught, or at least those who were not smart enough to give up the running battle and disappear into the night.

                         Near daybreak, a tired sheriff nods at all 300 people in attendance at the dinner aside from Vash, Roger, and Dorothy. "I'm going to have to release you all on your own recognizance since I simply don't have room in the jail for all of you, although I should put you all in here. Also, I need to see who's charged with what. A show of hands when I call out the charge, please."

                        One week later. . .

                        Meryl and Milly sit in the office of the Bernardelli section chief. "Since you two were among the principal causes of the riot, you are hereby assigned to pay back damages out of your hazard pay, and to work on rebuilding the Donnybrook Bistro and surrounding areas. I would fire you both, but you have been good workers in the past."

                        "Yes, sir."

                        "Yes, we're right on it."

                        "I hope you ladies understand that any more such incidents will mean that you are no longer on the Bernardelli payroll."

                        "Understood."

                        Faye lets out a scream worthy of a victim in a horror movie. "I have to leave my ship? Why couldn't we have left your junky old Swordfish!"

                        "Because, Faye Valentine, I wasn't the one who started the fight that wrecked one fifth of this city, for once. Besides, I was able to fix the hyperdrives on mine well enough to get us back to the Bebop."

                        "And what makes you think I want to go with you, Spike Spiegel," she hisses in her angriest possible voice. "All of this mess was your fault, you hear me, your fault! Not mine!"

                        "Fine, Faye. Hope you enjoy the desert."

                        "I'll go with you. You'd get lost without me."

                        The sheriff of December City posted two large notices on the sandwich boards in front of the station. The first is a large sign reading "Help Wanted-Deputies Apply Inside." The other is "Volunteers Needed To Build Larger Jail Before Next Year's Smokeout-Inquire Inside For Information."

                        Roger had negotiated the cases of all of the rioters, getting their long jail sentences and fines commuted to rebuilding what they had ruined and, for some, anger-management classes.

                        Vash had finally found gainful employment, at least for the next two months: one of the four anger-management firms that had set up in town had employed him to teach pacifism.                         

                        Millions Knives and Legato Bluesummers had quickly packed up and left December after the photo taken of them dancing the tango, taken by Faye, had reached the front page of the Smoking Gun Enquirer. 

                        And one Nicholas D. Wolfwood, finally defeated not by cravings or temptation per se but by the massive stress of the past week, sat on the porch of his home smoking a cigarette.

"Well, there's always next year. Don't let this be a setback, and you almost made it."

                        "Milly, honey. . .on a few conditions. First, you buy enough patches for an army for me. Secondly, we move as far away from Tongari and Meryl as is humanly possible. Thirdly, you leave me alone for the entire week. And fourth, next time an opportunity comes up for celebratin' my victory, let's not count the flies before they're swatted."

                        A fly landed on the nose of a certain black cat. "Bzz. . .I mean nyao."

                        "Nicholas, the cat talked."

                        "Milly, please get some rest, haven't you learned your lesson?"

                        "Nyao, nyao, nyao nyao."



                                                                 Credits:

Co-authors: AnonymousTrigunOtaku and TracyC/aurus

Original authors: We really couldn't have done this without you! Trigun © Yasuhiro Nightow, Shonen Gaho-Sha, Pioneer. Cowboy Bebop © Shinichiro Watanabe, Hajime Yatate, others, Kodansha, ADV. Big O © Hajime Yatate, Kodansha, ? Anyway, this list is probably inadequate but you get the point.

The author (forgot the name) of the fanfic "Flygun" for the spark of inspiration that made the sixth chapter possible.


 

                                                    Anime/Game Cameo Credits:

Spike Spiegel-Cowboy Bebop (chapters 2, 6, 7)

Faye Valentine-Cowboy Bebop (chapters 6, 7)

Roger Smith-Big O (chapters 5, 7)

Dorothy-Big O (chapter 7)

Selphie-Final Fantasy 8 (Wolfwood and Milly's baby's name)

Super Orange Machine-EarthBound (chapter 6)

Runaway Five-EarthBound (chapter 7)

 

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