The woman stood dangerously in the doorway, hands on her hips.
"I've just had enough of this, Kazumi Ryudo! You bastard!" she screamed.
The accused individual was sprawled out on the orange shaggy carpet, with a dazed look on his face that suggested he was dreaming in another world. Chances are, he was.
"Duuuuuuuuude," he said, drooling a little.
"Kazumi! You've been late with child support again! You haven't paid it, since, well, you've never paid at all!"
"Duuuuuuuuude."
"Look at our daughter! Just look at her!"
The woman stepped aside to reveal a little blue-haired cherub that had been hiding behind her mother's legs. The toddler was wearing a tie-dyed Grateful Dead T-shirt, ripped randomly, that hung down to her feet.
"Doooooooooo," she cooed. The mother nudged her sharply.
"Duuuuuuude?"
"KAZUMI! Are you even understanding anything I'm saying? I WANT some of your CASH to pay for CHILD SUPPORT so I'll have MONEY and I won't have to dress our child in your filthy T-shirts!" said Kazumi's ex-girlfriend. She walked over to wear Kazumi was and crouched down behind him, waving some fingers in front of Kazumi's eyes. They were bloodshot and glazed like a Krispy Kreme.
Kazumi batted her hands away and sat up very slowly and deliberately.
"Dude," he began, "You ever, just, you know, chill out? Cut loose and just do your thing?"
"What does this have to do with YOU not paying child support?" The woman rolled her eyes.
"Well, y'see, some people, their thing is, you know, going to the office and paying child support. Things like that. But me, my thing, is just . . . waaaaaaay." Kazumi gestured by slowly moving a hand in the air.
"Right. You probably just couldn't read the kanji on the child support form. See ya, loser. Have a nice trip."

It was a bright summer's day for little Shoutaro Tanaka. He and his homies were frolicking in a romping playfield, playing stereotypical childhood games like hopscotch, tag, and trying to memorize the words to English rap songs. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, all was well until Shoutaro's soccer ball rolled into the street.
"I'll get it!" he yelled, wanting to appear macho in front of his friends. He ran out to the pavement but stopped in front of the curb as a beat-up car pulled up and stopped in front of him. The driver sloooowly rolled down her window for maximum effect. Too bad it was a hand-crank.
"Come in my car, little boy, and I'll give you some candy," purred Asahina.
"Uhhhh . . . okay."
The redhead opened the car door. Shoutaro sat in the front seat next to Asahina.
"What kind of candy? Is it M&M's? Gee, I sure do hope that it is M&M's because they are my favorite type of candy and they-"
Asahina was thinking, "And I used the oldest pick up line in the book! He's a moron!" But that's not what she said.
"Oh, cutie, that seatbelt doesn't work. You're going to have to sit on my lap."
Shoutaro awkwardly climbed over the gear shift and onto Asahina's thighs. Asahina drove.
"So? Where's the candy?"
She clicked off the ignition, the keys clanking, and turned around to smile at Shoutaro. More like leer.
"How about I show you something REALLLY cool instead?" she "generously" offered.
Shoutaro's face lightened up. "I hope it's candy!"
"Think of it as eye candy," said Asahina. She unbuttoned her blouse. As president of the NAMBLA (National Man-Boy Love Association) she couldn't afford to disappoint the fans.

"As we walk along the hallway of justice, we are tempted by the lockers of HELL!" screamed Haruto. He pounded the pulpit for emphasis. Haruto was beginning to wear quite a dent in the soft wood.
In the pews, Asahina whispered to Kazumi.
"How many times has he said 'HELL!' already?"
"I've lost count!" answered Kazumi.
" . . . and those who skip the blessed class of the Divine Teacher will forever be punished in the firey pit of HELL!"
Asahina bolted up out of her seat.
"Kaichou! All you ever talk about is HELL! Can't you talk about something else for once!" she yelled.
Kazumi tugged on Asahina's sleeve back to a seated position. "I think he never quite got over not having a normal high school life," whispered Kazumi.
" . . . Well, fine then. Heaven is a place for those who get good grades in the game of morality, filled with people doing normal folk dances-"
"Who hurt you? Who was it, Shoutaro? Someone in here!"
Shoutaro nodded as he ran up and down the aisles with his mom to the front of the church.
"Which one?" egged on his mom.
"Look, lady, the kid was asking for it when he wore those shorts!" spat back Asahina.
"I know he's your preacher and you want to defend him, but these pedophile Catholics have just gone too far! I'm calling the cops!"
The congregation gasped and stared at Haruto.
"OHHH MYYY GOOOOD!"

A/N: So we have NAMBLA member Asahina, fire-and-brimstone preacher Haruto, and stoner Kazumi. Hey, I can sorta see stoner Kazumi. I know this was plotless and not the best writing, just a little something I typed up.