For Chelsey - happy birthday.

Beware: 100% pure, unadulterated crack.

Enjoy!

First Course: The Appetizer

The decision to get a cook was a unanimous one – a rarity, not only because the nine members of Akatsuki rarely agreed, but that Kakuzu had only once protested – and feebly, at that – about the rising minimum wage (“Ten ryou extra a week! A week! Do you think we can afford this? Do you think we’re made of money?”) – after Konan gave her nine male companions a severe case of food poisoning the likes of which had never been seen, which had resulted in a stampede akin to a herd of elephants on the move to the Akatsuki bathrooms, and Hidan and Kisame arguing over who was going to be sick in the toilet first. Hidan would ultimately end up half drowned in the contents of his own stomach after Kakuzu severed his head in the miser’s own rush to the bathroom; how a disembodied head was able to produce vomit was a conundrum even Itachi didn’t attempt to divine – not because it was senseless, but because he was hiding away in his bedroom, sulking, after Deidara had burst into the bathroom and thrown up on Itachi’s back with all four mouths while the Uchiha prodigy himself crouched over the toilet.

Konan felt bad for her role in the incapacitation of the world’s most feared organization, but, “Really,” she said, thumping Pein’s back and forcing his head into the toilet bowl, “how was I supposed to know chicken had to be cooked before serving?”

But they all survived, amazingly, and, at a group meeting held by Pein two weeks after the incident, the option of getting a professional cook was raised by Hidan, because, as he put it, “If I get fucking food poisoning one more time from the shitty-ass Chinese food this cheap ass motherfucking bastard –” here he jabbed his thumb vehemently in Kakuzu’s direction – “brings home every Monday, I’ll fucking starve myself to death,” an idea the other eight members were all for until Kakuzu suddenly remembered that Monday wasn’t his night to provide dinner, it was Deidara’s, and why the hell am I paying good, hard-earned money for Chinese food that wasn’t isn’t even my responsibility to bring home, God-dammit?! The meeting room exploded into parliament for ten minutes before Pein was able to restore calm by promising Kakuzu a pay rise of point zero-seven-five percent if he shut the hell up.

A quick vote was taken to ensure the decision was unanimous (it was, except for Konan, who was still maintaining her cooking wasn’t that bad – she was ignored), then Pein proposed that a list be written (the pad and pen was immediately handed to Tobi: Pein’s writing was unintelligible, and Konan was sulking), entitling what the Akatsuki thought would make an ideal cook.

Pein suggested that the ideal cook would be one that didn’t give them food poisoning – this was agreed upon by all but Kakuzu, who was buried in his calculator (solar powered, of course – the price of batteries was beyond ridiculous, and the budget simply did not allow for), busily working out how much more money he could make per annum – then looked at Deidara, who shrugged.

“I don’t care, as long as she’s hot, un –”

“How ‘bout someone who’ll tie up your pansy-ass hair?” Hidan snickered, then, clasping his hands before his chest and putting on a high-pitched voice that was evidently meant to be Deidara’s, said, “‘More to the left, or more to the right? Is it crooked? I can’t tell. Oooh, what am I ever going to do –?’”

“Says the man who spends upwards of an hour in the bathroom every morning, gelling his hair,” Itachi drawled. “And it still looks ridiculous.”

“Oi, you!” Hidan bellowed, pointing his finger at the dark-haired man, “SHUT UP!” He jabbed dramatically at his own scalp. “My hair is a motherfucking work of art! You can only dream of having hair half as good as this, you godless heathen sack of shit, motherfucker –!”

“Are you kidding?” Deidara interrupted. “It looks like you’ve tipped a bowl of gruel over your head and let it set. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

“You’re just jealous!”

“Jealous of what, Gruel-Head?” Itachi joined in, grinning maliciously. “Having a Gruel-Head?”

“Finally,” Kakuzu sighed. “I thought it was just me…”

“KAKUZU, YOU BASTARD –”

“All right, all right. As much fun as it is to test Hidan’s limits, can we please return to the issue at hand?” Pein said loudly, shuffling a thick wad of papers in an important manner he had seemingly procured from thin air. “Let’s move along. Hidan?”

“Someone who will rub my fucking back,” the platinum haired immortal yawned, reclining in his chair and placing his bare feet up on the table, looking at them before adding, “and my feet. They hurt like a bitch.”

“I think you’re growing your own civilization in there,” Kisame observed, leaning forwards slightly, before withdrawing and pinching his nose. “Why can I smell barbeque sauce?”

“What?” Hidan said indignantly, wriggling his toes. “It’s not like I’m going to die from unhygienic-ness, or anything.”

“No, but we might.”

“Oh God…” Konan murmured. “Is that tomato sauce?”

“Kakuzu, how can you put up with this?” Deidara asked, waving his hand in front of his face before snapping, “For the love of God, Hidan, put those things away, un.”

The banker shrugged his shoulders. “It saves money. I’m not complaining.”

“…that’s sickening, un.”

“All right, moving along… Itachi?”

“Wait, wait, wait, I wanna guess this one…” Hidan said, then sighed, tapping his chin. “Someone who has enough.. hatred… maybe?”

Itachi deadpanned. “No, actually, I was going to suggest someone who can cook those… erm… you know… those… ahh… pastry… thingers… you know… with the… umm… the… erm… chocolate on top… and… umm… help me out, Kisame!”

“Éclairs?” the blue-skinned man choked out.

“Yes,” Itachi said, noddling solemnly. “Éclairs. I like those.” He looked around the room, and his eyes narrowed. “What is it? Do I have shit on my face?”*

“All right, Itachi wants chocolate éclairs. Kakuzu?” Pein said quickly.

“Someone who will work for minimum wage!” the banker barked.

“Thanks, Kakuzu… Kisame?”

The shark-man shut his open mouth and blinked twice, apparently still in shock from his partner’s sudden revelation, then said, “Someone who will cater to my… err… ‘special dietary needs’.” He threw a dirty look at Tobi, mouthing the words ‘shark-fin soup’ and cracking his knuckles threateningly. The masked boy waved back cheerfully.

“Konan – sweetie?”

“Hmph!”

“Tobi?”

“Someone who will think Tobi is a good boy!”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, Tobi, thank you. Zetsu, you last.”

“Someone who won’t ask questions about the Tupperware container in the back of the fridge,” he said, then nodded, adding, “Ask no questions, tell no lies.”

“Oh God, I knew it!” Deidara screamed, bolting out of the room, retching.

Pein watched him go, then sighed and laced his fingers on the desk before him. “All right, Tobi: read it back to me.”

“Read back what, Leader-sama?”

Pein sighed. “Read back the list, Tobi.”

“What list, Leader-sama?”

“The one you should have been writing. About our suggestions for the new cook?”

“Oh.” Tobi looked down at his notepad. “Sorry, Leader-sama.”

“What have you been doing all this time, Tobi?” Zetsu growled.

“Drawing,” the boy answered happily. “Look, Leader-sama!”

He lifted the book up for Pein to see. Konan and the pierced man stared at the picture, their eyes slowly widening.

“That’s very nice, Tobi,” Pein said slowly, “but why do I have breasts?”

Tobi scrutinized his picture, then, grinned. “Because, Leader-sama, you’re the Akatsuki mommy!” he said proudly.

The meeting room was momentarily silent, then Hidan and Kisame ducked under the table and burst into loud peals of laughter. Itachi coughed; Kakuzu entered two zeroes instead of just one into his calculator; and Zetsu shut his flytrap over his head.

Pein smacked himself in the forehead as Konan grinned apologetically at him, mouthing her apology.

“You’re all bastards, the lot of you. You’re fired.”

x

Thank God no one can see this, Pein thought miserably, holding his head in his hands and shaking it slowly. All credibility the two men standing before him once held was diminishing before his very eyes. Then again, perhaps he was the fool who had entrusted the fate of the shinobi world to a group of bumbling idiots made up of a gender-bending blond terrorist with mouths on his hands; a masochistic immortal with the foulest mouth this side of hell and a penchant for bringing screaming virgins back to the Akatsuki base to sacrifice using his sleeping partner’s back as an altar; a socially-inept emo kid with attachment issues; a cheapskate who quite literally stole hearts; the shark from Jaws’ body double; a woman made from paper whose glare could wilt a flower and went on a murderous rampage that lasted for five days every month (the male Akatsuki were yet to figure out the cause of this unexpected change in the normally placid woman); a masked freak on a permanent red-cordial induced sugar high who was quite possibly gay and who had the mental capacity of a rock; and a man that resembled a Venus fly-trap who had a split personality, ate other humans and was in love with a cactus named Hanako.

“Okay… let me get this straight…” he said slowly, lifted his head, one hand over his eye as he looked between his fingers at Hidan and Kakuzu. “You… attempted to kidnap an elderly woman… from her retirement home…”

Hidan nodded fervently, opening his mouth. Pein held up his hand for silence.

“You attempted to kidnap an elderly woman from her retirement home… and you failed.”

A cricket chirped outside the window and Pein sighed, slumping down in his chair so only his eyes were visible.

“Please… please explain to me how this went wrong.”

“They just started screaming, for Jashin’s sake!” Hidan said loudly, waving his arms in the air. Across his left cheek he bore a strange red mark, and tears streamed from his eyes. “They beat up on me with their handbags!”

Kakuzu nodded in agreement, his head bowed and eyes closed. “Yes, they did scream a lot, actually –”

“– Their motherfucking handbags… motherfucker… do you know how much those fucking things hurt?”

“– Do you know how much they cost–?!”

“– I swear to Jashin, my nuts are broken in half, motherfuck… I think I’m bleeding –”

“– anywhere between three and five million ryou. For a bag! A bag –!”

“– great, just motherfucking great. I get kicked in the balls by some wrinkly old bitch and now I’m fucking sterile –”

“Enough,” Pein said wearily, sitting up and raising a hand. “Please, that’s enough.”

The room fell into silence in which Pein took a moment to rest his head on his desk, until Kakuzu cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Err… Leader-sama…?”

Pein lifted his head, took one look at Hidan who was scrutinizing his blood covered hand, the other holding the elastic of his pants open, and all colour drained from his face.

“Out,” he hissed, raising a shaking finger to point to the door. “Get out. Both of you.”

“But – my motherfucking balls –!”

“OUT!”

x

Deidara quickly flicked the channel over to Animal Planet as Hidan and Kakuzu entered the living room, Hidan disappearing immediately into the adjoining kitchen. Kakuzu sat silently next to the blond, staring blankly at the television as the camera zoomed in to show a close up of a pig’s snout until Hidan returned, looking relatively calmer.

“Having fun, blondie? Learnt anything new?”

“Mhm. Did you know, the average pig’s orgasm lasts for –”

“Thirty minutes, yeah, I already knew.”

Deidara stared sideways at the platinum haired man, then sniffed and put an ice cube in his mouth.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kakuzu asked, gesturing to the ice cubes.

“Mhm. Tobi made me breakfast in bed and I burnt my tongue on the coffee, un.”

Kakuzu raised an eyebrow. “He made you breakfast in bed?”

“Mhm-hmm. Something about us being partners for two months – I dunno. I wasn’t really listen—what the hell are you doing, Hidan?!”

The blond leapt to his feet, staring open-mouthed as Hidan shoved a packet of frozen peas down the front of his pants and sighed in relief before sinking down onto the couch beside his nonchalant partner.

“Ahh… yeah… that feels better…”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Deidara shrieked, his voice rising an octave, pointing dramatically at the immortal’s crotch.

“He got beat up on by grandma,” Kakuzu explained, glancing briefly at his partner, whose eyes were closed in what might have been bliss.

Deidara sat slowly back down, shuffling away from the two other men slightly.

“That’s… just sick. You’re enjoying that way too much, Hidan, un.”

“Pleasure isn’t a sin, blondie.”

“When it comes from a packet of frozen peas, it is,” Kakuzu scoffed, standing quickly and walking out of the room. “I’m going to recount the losses of today’s mission failure.”

Deidara waited until the miser had left the room before digging in between the couch cushions for his pen and notepad and flicking the channel back over. Hidan opened one eye lazily as a dark skinned woman with a huge afro began dancing on screen.

“Infomercials?”

“Yep, un.”

Deidara looked at Hidan, then frowned.

“She did a number on you, did she, un?”

“Huh?”

The blond pointed at Hidan.

“You’ve got a mark across your cheek, un.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. She smacked me with her handbag.”

“Hmm. Gucci, un?”

“What?”

“Was it Gucci, un?”

“Was who Gucci?”

“The bag, un.”

“What?”

“Because you’ve got a ‘G’ on your cheek, un.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Gucci. Was it Gucci, un?”

“No, it was an old woman!”

Deidara rolled his eyes, quickly wrote down the number on the screen and then stood.

“Where are you going?” Hidan asked, looking at the blond.

“To order this –” Deidara waved the notepad – “I was just waiting until Kakuzu left.”

Hidan looked at the television screen, then back at Deidara. “Hits of the 70s?”

“Yeah, un. It’s got all the greatest hits. ‘A Horse with no Name,’ ‘ABC,’ ‘American Pie,’ ‘Dancing Queen,’ ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy?’ –”

“What?”

“– ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ ‘Get Down Tonight,’ ‘I Will Survive,’ ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song,’ ‘My Sharona,’ ‘Pick Up The Pieces,’ ‘Ring My Bell’ –”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“– ‘Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree,’ ‘YMCA’– ”

“Okay, okay, I fucking get it. I can’t believe you actually buy into this crap.”

“What can I say? KC has an honest face, un.”

“You know shit’ll hit the fan if Kakuzu finds out you’ve wasted money on this crap.”

“He won’t. I’m putting it down under your name.” Deidara grinned, then quickly took his leave, passing Itachi as the dark-haired man entered the living room. The Uchiha looked at the television.

“Dance hits of the 70s?”

“Yeah, and apparently they have ‘A Horse with no Name,’ ‘ABC,’ ‘American Pie,’ ‘Dancing Queen,’ ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy? –”

Itachi blinked. “Are you hitting on me, Hidan?”

“What? No! No, no, nooo… no.”

Itachi stared blankly at him. “What happened to you?” he asked after an awkward pause.

Hidan touched his cheek again.

“I got hit with a handbag.”

“Huh… Gucci?”

“No – an old lady.”

“I meant the bag.”

* The first person who figures out which television program the line, “What? Do I have shit on my face?” is from will win a one-shot of their choosing. Your clue is: Britcom. I’ll accept two different answers. Message me with your answer, and good luck!

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