Authors Note: GOMEN NASAIII~!

ON WITH THE STORY!

Oh for God’s Sake. . .

Chapter 4: We’ve got a movie star!

~*~*~

Mitsuko looked out of the hole at the retreating backsides of her father and the youngest Kikaider brother with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

“A-Ah Dad! Get back here, we’re in enough trouble as it is!” She yelled to her father, whose only reply consisted of hand gestures indicating that he couldn’t hear her as he continued to walk on. Jiro took this opportunity to walk into Mitsuko’s cell through the opening Rei had installed.

“Why didn’t he just do that in the first place?” Masaru questioned curiously.

“Masaru!” Mitsuko protested in a scolding manner. Jiro plunked down next to her on the bench with a sigh.

“Probably the same reason no one told me I could change into clothes with a simple command.” He was a little pink as he said this, a little bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.

Mitsuko, distracted from giving a lecture to her younger brother, saw the bead and treated it as if it was a tear, bringing a gloved finger up to gently wipe it away. His eyes widened for a moment and stared at her in surprise, but catching sight of the warm smile she gave him, his discomfiture melted away and he found himself smiling just as warmly in return.

Gagging noises were then heard from the other side of the cell. Mitsuko turned to give a scathing look to her younger brother, but was surprised to see it was Ichiro who made the offending noises from his side of the bars.

Enough was enough; Mitsuko peeled off one of her shimmering, red satin gloves and wadded it up, stuffing it into Ichiro’s mouth as he stuck his tongue out at them. Masaru began to worry and ran out of the hole and entered Ichiro’s cell.

~‘If Mitsuko enters danger mode, I’m safer in here with this hothead!’~ He thought to himself as he hurried into the farthest corner.

Ichiro stared incredulously at the other sequined beauty, mildly amused.

“Impressive…you’re no pushover, but you’re not really a bitch like this other short-haired chick I know named Mie—mmph!” The barely clad Jiro clamped a hand over his mouth suddenly.

“Shh! Do you really want to risk her being within earshot of us in a populated area?!” He hissed, a desperate look in his eyes.

~*~

Elsewhere, a shorthaired lady in pink almost sneezed, but stopped halfway through.

“How the hell did that happen? I’m an android, I don’t sneeze…” she murmured to herself as she leaned to look into a store window. She then heard a multitude of flashes and straightened immediately, turning on her heels.

“DAMN IT! ENOUGH WITH THE PANTY SHOTS, YOU PERVERTS!” She raged, turning from Mieko into her android form, Bijinder.

Her mighty ‘weapons’ were then revealed, as she decimated half the street in downtown Vegas.

~*~

The remaining jailbirds turned in the direction where screams of mayhem and explosions were heard. Jiro turned an accusatory glare on his brother.

"What? I’ve been here all this time, I am not responsible for that!” Ichiro yelled in defense. Jiro hesitated before returning to his seat by the lovely Mitsuko.

She leaned over slightly onto his shoulder, trying to get comfortable.

“Jiro…” she spoke softly. Her breath felt like a feather on his skin, so he twitched a little when she did.

“Hn?”

There was a momentary pause before she spoke again.

“Why are you still in your underwear?” Jiro could just barely see her mouth pull into a slight smile as she asked. There was a cool, gentle wind in the cells from outside, and Jiro smiled serenely.

“Ano…my jeans are incredibly tight actually, I just thought I’d enjoy the breeze a little longer.” The pink tint had returned for the billionth time that day, it seemed.

~’Ara…so he does share some similarities with Ichiro…they both enjoy comfort over being decently attired’~ she mused with a soft chuckle.

“What a day…” she paused and glanced randomly at her brother and her jaw dropped.

“MASARU!? NANI?!?”

As if Ichiro being hired to perform in the club wasn’t enough, Masaru was now teaching him how to dance. Mitsuko had glanced at them just in time to catch her brother teaching Ichiro how to sway his hips like a belly dancer . . .they paused in mid-swing to look at her.

“Eh? What? I was just thinking that if we were ever going to end up here again, he might learn to dance a little so we do make enough for bail next time!” Masaru answered brightly, thinking it was one of the best ideas he had ever come up with. Ahh, bless the days of childhood innocence.

…

*Snerk*

Anyway…

There was another resounding *thud*. Mitsuko looked down to find Jiro had collapsed from shock, possibly traumatized for life. She quickly knelt down beside him in hopes of resuscitating him and was about to call to Masaru for help—until she caught him teaching Ichiro the Ricky Martin ‘Bon-bon’ shake. Her right eye began to twitch uncontrollably.

“I think I’m going to lie down for--*thunk*” and the scarlet-clad beauty was unconscious beside her boxer-clad significant other. The dance tutorial was cut short when Ichiro heard the second, dull sound of something hitting the floor. Turning around, he saw what had happened and rushed out of the hole in his cell and into the other.

“Aww…this makes for a perfectly incriminating photo!” He grinned evilly.

“Way ahead of you.” Masaru chuckled impishly, his tone almost business-like. He snapped two shots before Ichiro halted him.

“Wait a minute, lemme adjust a little--!” Ichiro then placed his unconscious brother’s hand over Mitsuko’s rear. He began to snicker with wicked glee as he imagined what the reaction would be when they awoke.

“Well, she did complain about not being covered up enough, fire away!” He cued Masaru, who was debating whether he should be protective of his sister or laugh with his fellow troublemaker. He chose the latter.

“Great! This will look perfect in the family photo album!” Masaru paused momentarily in his photo taking because his laughter began to cause convulsions in his small body. He didn’t want to waste film on blurry photos.

Ichiro smirked at the young boy.

“You know what, kid? Out of all the humans I’ve had to meet today, I least resent meeting you,” Ichiro said, grinning mischievously. Masaru replied with an impish grin of his own as his hair was ruffled by the feathered cross dresser.

“We should probably make a break for it before they wake up.” He whispered (?!) hurriedly as he noticed Jiro beginning to stir. Masaru quickly rewound the film and started towards the hole.

“Right, let’s go then…oh, by the way, I’m a little hungry …can you spare me a five?”

“I don’t know if I have anything smaller than a 20, but we can get change—but you carry the coins,” Ichiro said, extracting a Jackson (he’s on the $20 bill, you impoverished geniuses =p j/k!) from its sparkly restraint.

Together, they made their quiet exit from the jail--

“OH GODDAMMIT!”

—Or at least it would have been if Ichiro hadn’t tripped and fell on his face.

“Oi, you ok? What’d you trip on?” Masaru asked, brushing away the dirt from Ichiro’s disgruntled face.

“I don’t know!” He growled, thoroughly irritated at his less than graceful exit. Masaru, startled by the outburst, jumped back a little. He glanced over at Ichiro’s feet and came to a conclusion.

“Oh, the heel on one of your shoes is busted!” He exclaimed as Ichiro spat out some gravel.

“What? Oh hell!” he snapped, glaring back at the broken heel. Masaru pulled Ichiro to his feet and surveyed the damage done to the footwear.

“You’d better just take the other one off and walk barefoot until we can get replacements or something…” Masaru began—but Ichiro refused! He held his chin high and marched off down the street with the young boy jogging to catch up.

They left in such a huff that neither one of them observed that Ichiro activated a ‘trip’ alarm wire in his wake.

‘Trip’ alarm. Get it? HAHAHA—Oh shut up. =P

~*~

Den Komyouji began to wander the boulevard aimlessly. He looked up at the sky and sighed.

“I told him there were better places to get coffee, but he still chose the most boring place in town. -_- How disappointing…Ooh?”

The doctor was shaken out of his reverie when he caught sight of a woman peering into various dress and lingerie shops. She finally chose to enter a small lingerie boutique.

Mieko picked up several different types of lingerie to examine them, nothing really appealing to her. While looking further ahead, her eyes fell on something that caught her immediate attention. However, there was one problem: one corset was pink while the other was red… and she liked both colors. She frowned, contemplating which one she would be more satisfied with, considering she only wanted to walk out with one.

“I suggest the red one, it’s much more befitting on a young lady like yourself!” Den piped up with a child-like smile. Needless to say, Mieko jumped over to the other side of the display in surprise.

“Who the hell are you?!” She raged at him, paranoid at the thought that this little old man might be trying to take a panty shot of her too.

“You know, now that I think of it, this black one might look nice on you as well, although that is certainly your choice if you prefer…” he trailed off as he saw Mieko beginning to seethe.

“I have had enough of you…you perverts~! Stop following me around! I am investing in pants from this day forward!”

“…Well that’s a shame, you have such pretty legs, m’dear.” God help him, the poor man didn’t know when he was digging his own grave.

Luckily he figured it was time to run when the lady’s form began to flicker between woman and android. He didn’t stop until he found himself inside McDonald’s, hiding behind the life-sized Ronald McDonald figure.

~*~

The sound of sirens began to come into sharper focus as Mitsuko stirred awake for the second time that day. The sound was not appealing and she groaned, looking around groggily for familiar faces to explain what was going on.

“Wha…what happened? Where did everyone g—JIRO! GET YOUR HAND OFF MY ASS!” She shrieked, feeling his hand twitch as he began to awaken.

“Ah? What?” he mumbled confusedly.

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t regain his wits as fast as Mitsuko’s defensive reflexes.

“Oowww…I didn’t do it, I swear!” he defended himself, quite sure that he was unconscious before she was and therefore had no responsibility of his hand’s whereabouts during that time. However, she ignored him as panic arose in her.

“Oh my gosh, they’ve all escaped from jail!” She gasped, horrified at the thought of the possible repercussions for jailbreak and damaging the facility. To make her fears worse, two cops entered the vicinity of where they had been held captive.

“HOLY (*@!#!!! They knocked the whole cell wall down!” One cop ranted in disbelief. The other rushed forward with handcuffs.

“Both of you, freeze!”

Mitsuko was on the verge of a nervous breakdown right then and there. Wringing her hands, she started to breathe heavily as if she were going to have an asthma attack.

“Jiro, what do we do now?!” She panted, turning to him just in time to see him rush at her and pick her up.

“We follow them! Quick!” And with that, he sprinted out of the opening with her gathered in his arms and into the streets of Vegas…still in his boxers.

Yes, we’ll give you time to picture this.

…

“Oh, this is just great! One minute, I’ve got men attempting to stuff money in my thong, then I’m in jail and now I’m a fugitive! Oh--!’ her ranting paused for a moment as she couldn’t help but notice how…nice it was to be carried this way by Jiro.

“Oh well, I suppose it could be worse," she said a bit quieter, "Gil could be back and about to turn Vegas into a steaming pile of rubble.”

“Well, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about…” Jiro muttered to Mitsuko as they ran past a short, bald monk.

“Hey, you kids should really go through the drive-thru service at least! Getting married in Vegas only takes like a minute! HEY!” he continued to yell after them.

As Jiro neared the horizon, Mitsuko finally spoke her mind about his last comment.

“EHHHHHHHHH!?!?!?!”

(To be continued…)