Disclaimer: We don't own them... we wish we did... especially now. Ignore that... it's the chocolate... honest. Anyway, we're not making any money, I wish we were it would make life easier, but you can't have everything can you? I mean... where was I? Oh yeah, Gundam Wing belongs to Sunrise... etc, etc...
"Right, let's have a look at that."
"It _really_ hurts."
"Mission acknowledged. This won't take long." *crack, crack, crack*
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! Doctor Yuy!!!!"
"Couldn't I have some anaesthetic before you set my leg? PLEEEEEEEASE!!!"
"You don't need anaesthetic for a minor operation like this. Now hold still and stop screaming." *crack crack crack*
"Just a short cut and sides please."
"Are you sure?"
"It's just that - it's such a nice colour. Why don't you grow it? Then you could do _all_ sorts of things with it. Look at mine! Isn't it long and healthy? And we could colour it too!"
"Look, I just want a short cut and sides please."
Occupation: Hairdresser. (not what you were thinking you hentais!) [Duo clone 04: How do you know what they were thinking?] [Jaelle and Orla: *sweatdrop*]
"Give it up everyone, for the one, the only, there can be only one - TROWA BARTON!!!"
*massive applause over cute music*
Trowa sits and stares at the people in front of him.
Occupation: Talk show host.
Quatre Raberba Winner:
"And last, but not least... or then again, it might just be least! The final piece de resistance from Salon Roquet's Swimwear Collection, modelled by the up and coming hot star...
QUATRE RABERBA WINNER!!!!"
A flushing young man steps out onto the catwalk, clad only in a pair of small black speedos. The audience notes with interest as the blush goes from his face right down to his toes.
"Go Master Quatre!" Howl the Manganacs.
"Go little brother!" Iria yells.
Slowly, Quatre walks down the catwalk, pirouettes quickly and runs back to the exit.
"Well, you see, things just haven't been the same between us since our anniversary. We fight all the time now and she never listens to me. We were hoping you could help."
"Of course you were! That's because you are WEAK! Too weak to sort out your own problems! I hate weak people like you! You can't control your own woman? What kind of a man are you? No wonder she won't listen to you if you're this weak. For that matter, why did you get married? Didn't you know that all women are weak!"
Occupation: Marriage Guidance Counsellor.
"To be or not to be... that is the question. Whether tis nobler of..."
"Was something wrong?"
"Zechs-baby, your acting was perfect, _you're_ perfect - but... it's just...
Could you lose the mask please?"
"Ah... there's nothing like a rose scented bath. Don't you think so sir?"
"Hot oil massage?"
"Yes please. Oh, and perhaps we could use a different scent next time."
"... DIFFERENT SCENT?????"
Occupation: Bathhouse Masseur/Soapland Man.
And now, the girls:
"Miss Relena, your next appointment is here."
"I see, please show him in Sylvie."
"Ah, Miss Relena I..."
"SILENCE! ON YOUR KNEES BEFORE ME WORM!!! LICK MY BOOTS... AND THEY HAD BETTER BE CLEAN!!!"
"Don't call me that, CALL ME QUEEN!!!" *whipcrack*
"Got a question about your love?
Send a cry for help and wait a bit...
Love makes your heart race.
If it means you're loved in the end...
Be much more agressive,
Because you will get a chance,
The angel of love smiles at you."
"WAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!! HILDE!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!"
"HILDE! HILDE! HILDE! HILDE!"
Hilde danced and smiled, her pink frilly dress bouncing with her movements, ribbons flowing from her puffy sleeves.
Occupation: Idol singer.
"Careful... careful... don't drop it..."
"That's five orders of the special for table six!"
"Noooo... the meatloaf!"
"I've got it!" Catherine spun gracefully around and knives flew from her hands.
"Okay, now the meatloaf is pinned to the wall."
"Aww... aren't you just the cutest little kittie? Yes you are, yes you are... Let's just see how you do when we put you in the hutch with the cute little ferrets!!!"
Loud howling and scatching noises echo from the cage.
"Miss Catalonia? How is Fluffy?"
"And that wraps up that plan. Did you get all of that Miss Po?"
"Yes sir, would you like me to explain it?"
"No, no. Just type it up there's a good girl. And if you could make copies for the whole marketing division? And while you're on your way to the copy machine, would you pick me up some cigarettes?"
The door closes and a scream echoes down the corridor.
"Oh, and then my boy Sam just turned and denied he'd been at the jam even though he was covered with the evidence. And how has YOUR day been Mrs Merquise?"
"Oh... you know, the usual. I get up, make my lazy spouse his breakfast, get him out of bed, make the bed, clean the kitchen, clean the house, go shopping, watch the soaps. Which reminds me, did you catch yesterday's Days of Our Lives because I missed it!"
"It's been so hard. I just keep hearing these voices in my head. One tells me to do a good thing, the other to break and destroy things. I think I have a split personality!"
"Well, it does sound like that," Une purses her lips. "From my own personal experience."
Une snaps upright and glares at the man. "Pay no attention to her, she doesn't know WHAT she's talking about. Let's talk about these violent impulses of yours."
The End (unless we decide to write the sequel where they all meet)
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