Author's Note: Well here I go again with another Twinsfic. A big thanks to my friend, Zam, who gave me the idea for this story. Like my 'Hawaiian Twins' fic, this fanfic is NOT to be taken seriously!! It's just a bit of fun I threw together.

Disclaimer: I am only a fan and do not own anything of the Matrix!! All characters, names and anything else pertaining to the Matrix are owned and copyrighted by their rightful owners (the Wachowski brothers and Warner Brothers). The only thing I own is the fanfic itself and any fan-made characters that were created by me exclusively for the story. This fanfic and any of my other fanfics may not be copied, altered, edited or posted elsewhere without my permission. For those of you who may speak another language please feel free to translate my story into your native language for better understanding and your personal enjoyment ONLY, or to show to a friend that may not speak English.

Rated G – All age enjoyment

The black and shiny Escalade pulled up the rough gravel driveway and stopped a little ways from the front porch of a weather-beaten old house. A windmill squeakily turned off to the side of the yard while several barns stood in the back of the house. The house itself leaned a little and was a sight to behold. Paint peeled from its white sides, shutters hung on their hinges, and junk of every sort was piled on old wooden benches on the porch.

"You sure someone lives here?" Two asked after looking the place over.

"They'd better or we're in trouble, no thanks to you." One put the car in park and turned it off.

"I said I was sorry for reading the map wrong, ok? Anyone can make a mistake."

"Well when you work for the Merovingian, you don't make mistakes. Now he's going to be furious because we aren't going to meet him on time. Worse, the car's out of petrol too."

One leaned back in his seat and sighed before grabbing for the door handle.

"You stay in here while I go see if someone lives in this forsaken place."

One got out and carefully walked up to the porch steps. A yellow and white cat sprinted off to the side and around the corner to get away from the stranger. One walked up the creaky old steps and made his way to the screen door and pounded on it. A few minutes passed before the wooden door on the other side slowly opened and an old farmer appeared. The farmer looked at One through the screen. He was dressed in blue overalls, a red and white checked shirt, and an old straw hat. His face was worn and wrinkled with age, had one eye half closed, and his chin was covered in a white beard.

"What can I do fer ya?" the old man asked in a low hillbilly voice.

"We're lost and need help finding our way." One slowly said while still looking the man over through the screen door.

"Eh? What's that? You say you need a place to stay?" the man came closer to the door. One's eyebrows raised a little.

"No. We need help finding our way." One again said, a little louder this time.

"Speak up, sonny, I can't hear ya."

One sighed in frustration and looked toward their car where Two was waiting and watching.

"Our car is out of petrol and we are lost and need you to show us the way to get back to the main highway."

The old man blinked his eyes and looked at One for a few seconds as if trying to figure out what he had just said.

"Nope, the police don't ever patrol this area. Too far out in the sticks, but you're welcome to stay here if ya want. Got an extra bedroom in the back of the house."

One's nose flared and his temper rose, but he tried to keep himself calm. A part of him wanted bad to reach for his razor nestled in one of his silver coat's pockets and threaten the old man, but he stopped himself.

"Alright, we'll stay." One finally sighed. The old farmer's eyes twinkled with excitement at having visitors and invited One inside his home.

"Just a minute while I go get my brother." One turned.

"You aren't a bother at all." The old man said.

"No, no, my brother. See?" One pointed out to the car.

"Oh yeah, sure he can stay too." the old man nodded his head.

One walked toward the steps, stepping on a loose board, which flew up and toward him. Just before the board had a chance to hit him in the face, One phased allowing the board to pass through him and fall back down. He reappeared shocked but unharmed at the bottom of the steps. He stared in the porch's direction, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Sorry, been meanin' to fix that board." The old farmer called to One from behind the screen door. One shook his head and walked to the car.

"Come on, we're staying here for the night." One leaned on the door and talked to Two through the opened window.

"Stay? Here? In this place?!" Two's eyes grew big behind his shades. "This place is dirty and, and,"

"It is, after all, getting dark and we're going to have to stay somewhere. I can't make the old man understand that we need petrol for our car and directions to find our way out of here."

"What do you mean you can't make him understand?"

"The old man's half deaf and he can't make out a word I say. He kept thinking I said we need a place to stay instead of directions to find our way. And he thought I was talking about police patrolling the area instead of petrol."

Two slumped in his seat.

"Come on and bring the suitcases." One said while opening the door to roll the window up. Two grumbled and mumbled the whole time he got out and grabbed the suitcases. One grabbed the cases that belonged to him and together they walked up to the old shack.

"Careful with that board." One pointed down to the board that nearly caught him in the face earlier. The porch squeaked, creaked, and moaned with every step they took. Once or twice Two felt like the boards were going to give way and he was going to go through them.

"This is unbelievable! Humans actually live like this?" Two glanced around him to make sure there weren't anymore loose boards ready to fly up once stepped on.

"Some do I suppose." One grabbed the handle of the screen door and made his way inside the house. Two followed the best he could with his arms full of suitcases. The screen door's hinges sounded like fingernails racing against a chalkboard. Two jumped back a little at the dreadful noise and eyed the door as it slowly closed itself behind him. When it finally closed, Two shook his head and turned to face the small room they had entered in. One stood in front of him. The place was skimpy when it came to furniture, having only a few chairs, a couple of tables, and a bookshelf. The only rug was a worn out oval throw rug in the middle of the room. It was, however, occupied by an old sleeping brown lop-eared hound dog whose face was so full of wrinkles you couldn't see his eyes even if they were open. Other oddities scattered around where several oil lamps, an old antique clock, and some storing crates.

"One, we do not belong here." Two whispered in despair.

"It's not like we have a choice." One whispered back.

"Look at this place! It's like the very edge of the world or something. I can't stay here. It's too secluded." Two jerked his hand back from one of the tables and rubbed the dust from his fingers. "Not to mention filthy."

"We're going to have to bear with it for tonight. We've got to make the old-timer understand that we want petrol for the car, not a police patrol squad."

The Twins closed their conversation when the old farmer came into the room, smiling and offering his hand in a friendly greeting. Two nervously shook the man's hand.

"Twins?" the farmer looked from one to the other. They both nodded simultaneously. The little farmer chuckled, turned and sat down in one of the rocking chairs placed in the room.

"So what are yer names?" he asked.

"Better make it loud and clear." One whispered to Two.

"Uh, my name's Two."

"Drew?" the old man said.

"No, I said my name's Two." Two repeated. "You know, like the number." Two held up two fingers. The old man stared a few minutes then turned to One.

"And what's your name?"

"One." He answered.

"Wan? That's a nice name."

"NO! I said my name is One!" One shouted.

"One? One what?" the old man looked puzzled.

"Oh forget it." One shook his head.

"Well it's awful nice to meet you, Drew and Wan. You'll find an unused bedroom through that door there. Just go through the kitchen then turn to the door on your left."

The Twins lugged their suitcases through the kitchen and into the bedroom. They stopped and dropped their cases onto the floor and looked around. The place was empty except for two beds, one on each side of the room, a night table in between the beds and a chair in one corner. It was dark in the room so they could barely make out everything.

"Where's the light switch?" Two fumbled around the wall.

"Should be here somewhere." One reached out and felt with his hand.

"Forgot to light the lamp in here." The old man said, coming through another door. He walked over to the table in between the beds, struck a match and lit an oil lamp setting in the middle of the table. The room was soon filled with a bright and warm glow, which cast eerie shadows on the bare light gray walls.

"You don't have electricity?" One stuttered.

"Electricity? Nope, 'fraid not." The man hobbled through the door he had entered through and shut the door. The Twins exchanged glances then made their way to the beds.

"They look dangerous." Two whispered while looking over the thin metal bed frame that held a shaggy mattress filled with holes and patches. Two touched the top of the bed frame at the end of the bed and the thing creaked and moved a little to the side. He jerked his finger back and waited until the bed stopped moving.

"We're supposed to sleep in these?"

One shrugged before tossing a suitcase on his bed. The bed wobbled horribly from the impact of the suitcase.

"I'd hate to think what would happen if a very strong wind ever came." Two rolled his eyes.

"It wouldn't have to be a strong wind. Just a slight breeze would be enough to end this place." One opened his case and started taking out clothes. Just then the door of the room started to creak open slowly, startling the Twins. They both stopped what they were doing and eyed the door. It moaned and popped and made the most awful noises either one of them had ever heard. When it finally cracked open, the head of something peeked in. It was the old hound dog they had seen when they first came in. The pitiful old animal wandered in and looked up at the two, his huge pink tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. The poor old thing was so on in years it appeared that all the energy he could muster was used to slowly wag his tail back and forth.

"G'wan. Get!" Two waved his hand to shoo the animal away. Like any old dog, he stood and stared happily at the two not knowing that the word 'get' means to get out. He lowered his head, all of the wrinkles coming down over his eyes like folds of cloth, and began sniffing around at the suitcases lying on the floor.

"That is the grossest dog I think I've seen." One made a weird face at the dog's wrinkles.

"Come on. Get out. We don't need you in here." Two walked over and tried to push the dog away, but he only got the dog's wet tongue up the side of his face in return. "Ewww! Gross!" Two jumped back and tried wiping his cheek off. After succeeding in fulfilling his mission of greeting the guests, the dog slowly turned and walked out of the room.