I do not own Beyblade or Cheezits. For best enjoyment of this story, you should read Murders n' Stuff or check the KaRe Wave forums. pimps fics :P enjoy peeps. Oh, also, I don't have a clue what my title means. Its just meant to sound French and have the word Cheezit in it.

Le Cheezit Amore

by Kaistoaster

Birds twittered maddenly. Clouds danced over his head, taunting, spurring him on to greater heights. He slipped a pair of shades on to protect his eyes from the bright sun. A girl winked at him as he walked down the sidewalk. He resisted the urge to shove her in front of an incoming truck. Nothing must get in the way of his beautiful sacred mission.

His billowing blue trenchcoat was worn on such a sunny for concealment-of one thing. Under his arm was a small, bright red cardboard box. This box was of the utmost importance. It contained nothing more and nothing less than Bryan’s eternal soul-and fluffy, crunchy, crispy-oh so many words to describe them-cheese squares known as…Cheezits…Tala’s mouth filled uncomfortably with saliva at the thought. His hands twitched and itched to dive into the box and grab a handful. But he mustn’t. He sighed, thinking of how complicated being a practitioner of voodoo was sometimes. But oh-the benefits. Eternal youth, for one. Being able to reincarnate his sexy boyfriend when he died was another.

Tala mused and walked on, walked on, walked on, until he came to a building. It was a very fashionable building, a very tall building, a very classy building, in a way that Tala would never know how to achieve. He, for all his innate class, would never think to live in a thing so mocking of the normal standards for architecture.

Tala schooled himself to look casual, breezy, like he knew where he was going and didn’t worry much about it. It was hard when you looked this good, though. There was no one else he trusted to bring this, that wouldn’t stand out like a mule among stallions. Admiring and envious eyes following him, he walked into the building and through the foyer. The doorman goggled at him, and Tala didn’t stop heading for the elevators. He simply raised a hand, in a casual wave or an order, the dumbfounded doorman knew not. The doors slid open and Tala walked inside. They snapped close and the elevator began rising instantly. Tala was warmed with the conviction, false though he knew it, that everyone and everything loved him.

On the long ride up, however, his mind returned to the box under his arm. Eyes tearing painful, longing screaming from his heart, he pictured the perfect orange squares with little ridges in the sides. The image stayed in his mind of how a handful would look, spread out on his clean white palm, waiting to be shoved in his mouth and chewed.

His hand was going inside his jacket before he snapped it back hard. What was he doing? Did he want the spell to fail? No wonder it was considered so difficult. Cheezits-they got in your mind and stayed there, like some invading parasitic alien. It made Tala sick, but he still wanted them. He hadn’t gotten where he was by succumbing to temptation, however. Tala fought the Cheezit beast and won-barely.

His casual manner was destroyed, however. He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, hand wiping sweat from his forehead, when he was bombarded by images of Cheezits.

“God!!! Cheezits!!!” he screamed, eyes bulging painfully. His hands dove inside his jacket and pulled out the red box. A huge Cheezit was pictured on it. He tore the box open and grabbed a fistful of delightful, delicious, scrumptious oh-god orange Cheezits, and he was raising his fist to his mouth as the door slid open. Tala glanced up. A girl stood there, eyes wide open in shock. Tala glanced down at himself, and pictured what she saw. A strange, gorgeous redhaired man in a jumpsuit and trenchcoat, on the floor, covered in sweat, panting, clutching a handful of Cheezits like they were gold. He hastily dropped the Cheezits back into the box, snatched up the box, and darted past the girl.

Box under his arm, heart in his throat from sheer nerves, he reached apartment E14. A nondescript tan steel door with a mail slot faced him. If his sources were correct, Kai and Rei usually went to get their nails manicured at this time. So he should be in the clear. One hand clutching the Cheezits box, he stuck the other in his pocket and pulled out a golden key. Resisting the urge to sing “I’ve got a gold ke-ey” to the tune of “I’ve got a Golden Ticket” he stuck the key into the door and turned the lock.

With a rather dramatic “click” and squeak (didn’t they ever oil these things?) the door swung open. Tala took a slow step inside, cracking the door behind him. He gazed around. The apartment was well lit, with natural sunlight streaming in through huge windows and the glass doors to a balcony. It was tastefully decorated in white, black, and maroon, with hints of silver and pretty green. It gave Tala a gleeful, destructive impulse to run around smashing vases and pictures, pouring paint on the rug, and smashing the fuck out of the glass doors and windows. Maybe another time. Right now, business. He headed from the living room into a black marble and chrome decorated kitchen, thought about rifling through the fridge, and then decided not to.

He wiped saliva from his lips and tenderly sat the Cheezit Box on the counter.