


Titles = conformity

by Junkyard Angel



Category: Utena
Genre: Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2001-08-30
Updated: 2001-08-30
Packaged: 2013-05-04 20:23:58
Rating: K+
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/388384/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/36452/Junkyard-Angel
Summary: This is funny in a stupid way and a response to a challenge. Not a true Utena fic, but only Utena fans will understand this.





	Titles = conformity

  
I was reading my friend Kerri's subscription to Iguana Monthly with not  
a lot of interest. She asked me if I would do her a favor.  
"Bobette?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I've got a cousin coming here for the week, and I need to keep him  
entertained while I go to Julia's party."  
"And. . .?" I said, not really liking where the conversation was going.   
"Soo, do you think you could go out with him Friday night?"  
I had to think about this. Kerri's relatives were on the eccentric side.   
Last family reunion what started as an innocent cookout turned into a  
multigenerational contest to see how many dirty jokes each person could  
make about the hot dogs and buns.   
"He's your type. . .I swear. Appearance-wise, anyway."  
Kerri pulled a photo out of her wallet. The cousin wasn't bad looking,  
but he was on the weird site: Blue dyed hair, blue shirt, blue contact lenses,  
very color coordinated.   
I figured it was either date time or I would spend Friday night listening  
to Kerri ramble about iguanas, so I agreed.  
That Friday night, a Honda Civic pulled up in the driveway and beeped. I  
opened the door next to my date.  
"DON'T SIT THERE!"  
Startled, I sat in the back. My fears were true--this guy was a definite  
weirdo.  
"Heh heh heh. . .I had this little accident," said my date. I really didn't  
know whether he was talking about his sudden screaming or the car seat.  
"The name's Mouse."  
"Mouse? Your name's MOUSE?"  
"Mickey Mouse."  
Dead silence.  
He started laughing hysterically until he almost mowed over a  
pedestrian. He showed me a driver's license and pointed to his name.   
"Mickey Benoto."  
I forced a polite chuckle.  
"So, what exactly are we going to do?" I asked.  
"30 SECONDS!" yelled Mickey, looking at his watch. I didn't want to  
know.  
"What? Oh, we're going to a toga party."  
A TOGA party? That's something my parents did! "60 SECONDS!"  
Mickey glanced at his watch.  
"Umm, what are you timing?"  
"Every stop sign I pass, I yell out how much time has elapsed since the  
past stop sign. It's really fun! Wanna try it?"  
Quickly trying to change the subject, I said, "I didn't bring the right  
clothes for a toga party."  
"You'll be fine."  
He pulled up in front of a house and lead the way inside. It was eerily  
quiet for a party.  
Covering a wall was a life sized poster of a red haired guy. He was  
leaning against a piano with his shirt unbuttoned.  
Mickey prostrated himself in front of the poster, then lit some  
incense.   
Speaking of incensed, "That's it! Take me home!"  
"I TOLD you. . .it's a TOUGA party!"  
  
Buddah boom. . .

This was in response to someone saying, "Write about a bad date and a toga  
party." 


End file.
