Purging Purge

Going on a whim, Ulala decides to try and reform the "evil" Purge into a better man... -like thing, whatever the heck he is. This is a story for Purge fans which, although they may be far and few, I know there are.

Noize squinted his eyes, just barely able to make out a swirling, gray mass in the distances of space. "I think I see him, Ulala. Closing in."

"Roger." Ulala stood atop the RoverBoy (or whatever it's called), her eyes focused on her target. Her hand twitched slightly within her spacesuit, aching to push back a lock of hair that was tickling the corner of her eye, but past that, she refused to move until...

Noize pulled up beside the gigantic metal "P", launching a robot arm to steady the spinning tomb of Purge. Ulala set her trusty laser on low and shot open Purge's purple window, cringing when a flying piece of glass threatened to puncture her spacesuit.

Inside, Purge was dead asleep, barely alive after going so long without food or water. His hair was mussed, and the heels of his hands were bruised from pounding against the glass. It was a pitiable sight which made Ulala's chest ache just from looking at him. She gulped and began to pull Purge out of the metallic letter by his armpits.

"Um... are you sure this is a good idea, Ulala?" said Noize, his voice bordering on a worried squeal. "I mean..."

"Trust me on this." Ulala paused to check if Purge was breathing; he was, but lightly. He looked... sort of cute when he was asleep, despite the ugly purple disco suit. It was like watching an angelic, psychedelic mouse softly purring away in dreamland... "Let's head back to the station."


He couldn't help but moan in pain, for his chest was too tight to do much else. A tiny hand patted his arm as he wrenched his eyes open, taking their own time to focus on a petite, pink haired figure above him...

Purge blinked a few times, finding it hard to take a breath in. "How the... who..."

"Hi, Purge." Ulala smiled at him sweetly, closing her eyes and cocking her head. Purge noticed how her hair was down, and she had a hairbrush in her hand, which she waved at him while she talked. "How do you feel?"

Purge shook his head. "Where am I?"

"Well..." Ulala pushed back her long hair behind her ear. "You're in my room at the tv station. Do you feel okay?"

"Your room?" The gray-skinned one wiggled around a bit, trying to find his limbs, but couldn't move or see past the huge comforter Ulala had thrown over him. "What's wrong with me?"

Ulala let loose a small giggle, although it was a bit nervous by the sound of it. "Well, it was Noize's idea, because we didn't quite know what would happen-"

Purge suddenly began to panic, pulling at his arms to no avail. "I can't move, I can't Move, I CAN'T-"

"QUIET!" Ulala suddenly jumped up and slammed her hands over Purge's mouth, leaning on him with all her weight. "They'll catch us!"

A loud pounding came from Ulala's door. "Ulala, is everything okay in there?!"

"Everything's fine, Fuse!" Ulala giggled. "Nothing to worry about!"

Purge finally then took the time to survey the room he was in. It was incredibly small, oddly enough, with the twin bed and changing tube taking up most of the minimal space. Ulala didn't even have a night table, instead resting a clock, lava lamp, and a set of glasses on a clear patch of ground underneath her bed. The carpet was pink shag, and the walls were a calm, aged used-to-be-white yellow, which oddly matched the bright pink changing-room tube which Ulala had left open. Purge himself was tucked deep within Ulala's small bed, covered by (unknown to him) Ulala's favorite quilt, his head resting on a Hello Kitty pillow given to her and autographed by Space Michael himself.

He also noticed that he was tucked into the crook of Ulala's neck, which made him blush profusely. She waited until Fuse's footsteps faded away in the distance before rolling off of her prisoner, pulling away her quilt to show him that he had been tied to her bed with microphone cable.

"Me and Noize figured that you'd freak, so we-" She scrunched up her face, purposely making herself as cute as possible. "Kiii-eeeennn-da had to tie you up so you wouldn't run away."

Purge checked his chest and, sure enough, he was tied tighter there than any other place on his body, which explained his inability to breathe. In fact, he told Ulala this fact.

"I CAN BARELY BREATHE!" he screamed again, the color now running out of his face in a primal panic. Ulala once again threw her hands across his mouth and leaned on him.

"QUIET!" She waited for him to calm down, then held her hands to her chest. "I'm sorry about that. I'll loosen the wires for you."

Ulala bent down and out of sight to the bound Purge, who was trying to wriggle out of the wires as Ulala undid them. After a while, he gave up, and slumped onto the bed in a stupor. He barely even acknowledged that he was in his black-and-white cloak, not thinking about how he was dressed in his disco suit when he was shot into space.

"So, how 'bout them Yankees?"


"Nothing." Ulala's head popped out from the bedside, smiling her innocent child smile that she used only for the guests. "Now, I'm going to go get breakfast for us both. Do you like waffles?"

"Why am I in your room?" Purge forced out of his tired mouth.

"I'll get you waffles." Ulala stood up and skipped out of the room, letting the door lock behind her.







Fully aware that she had just stopped Purge from making a getaway dash by slamming his head into the door, but still remorseful for it, Ulala teased the stunned man out of the way of her door, sitting him down in the changing tube with one hand while her other hand supported a tray of breakfast food. She locked the door with the heel of her platform boots and sat down on her bed, passing Purge a plate of waffles and a cup of orange juice. "Eat up. You're probably starving."

The mousy man stared at the food for a full three seconds before taking it from Ulala's hands, sipping the orange juice first. Ulala herself sat on the bed and slowly nibbled her waffles while Purge began to ask questions.

"Well, my fair Ulala," he purred, switching into "villian" mode, "So we meet again."

"Mm hmm," she muffled, gingerly placing another piece of waffle on her tongue.

A little set off by her nonchalance, he took another swig and started again. "I am intrigued by your sudden... interest in my well being." He swirled his large glass of orange juice around like a wealthly socialite. "Might I ask you why?"

The tiny female held up a finger, then pointed to her chewing mouth.

At this, Purge slammed both hands on his hips. "Well? What gives?"

After swallowing, Ulala threw back her still down hair and picked up her orange juice glass. "Well... to tell you the truth... I don't know."

And with that, the mousy man choked on his OJ. "You don't know?!"

"Nope." Ulala took a sip and put the juice down on her tray. "I.. just sorta... I don't know."

She flipped her hair around with a snap of her neck and began working it around her ear, which began to make Purge think that is was some kind of nervous twitch of hers. "I... had a dream, and it'd take too long to explain it, but I..."

Ulala began to sink into herself, almost like she wanted to slip out of existance. "Well, I, uh... um... I..."

"Well, anyway," Purge quickly interrupted, feeling a grating pity in his stomach just watching her. "That being..." He hesitated for a second, not wanting to say "being said" because nothing had been said. He decided to throw out a joke. "Mumbled, how did I get here?" He looked downward to get a piece of waffle, at last noticing his wardrobe. "And how did I get into this?"

Ulala sat up straight and smiled again, puffing herself back into the universe (metaphorically, anyway). "Me and Noize went and found you, and brought you back here. I had that outfit in my closet."

"Why do you have my jacket in your closet?" Purge asked cynically.

Ulala began to speak, but then the thought crossed her mind: Did she want to explain the Dance Trial?

"Never mind, I probably shouldn't know." Purge rubbed his temples with a worried groan. There were a few seconds of silence, the awkward silence that everyone has to experience once in a while.

Ulala sighed. "Just finish your waffles."


Ulala sat with Purge for the next hour, setting him up with a makeshift television (her Morolian costume got wonderful reception) and a stack of Calvin and Hobbes comic books up to his knee. He stayed occupied just fine, only partially freaked out by Ulala keeping a very close eye on him. He didn't try to start a conversation, and neither did she, so the whole hour was spent in nice, not-awkward but welcome silence.

That is, until Fuse called.


"YIPE!" Ulala jumped to her feet, accidentally slamming herself into one of her walls and scaring Purge out of his wits. "Fuse, yes sir!"

A tiny trap door opened up in the ceiling, releasing an equally tiny intercom which lowered itself to Ulala's eye level. "Ulala, what are you doing?! Your show's on in 5 minutes!"

"Yes, sir, sorry sir!" Ulala jumped into the changing tube and, moving so fast she could barely be seen, changed into her white "fatigues" and began to gather her microphone and gun holster. "Purge, I've gotta go. I'm locking you in, I've got a private bathroom behind a door in the changing tube, don't make too much noise, I'll be back by 3:00."

"What? Wait a minu-"


And with that, she slammed the door behind her, locking it soundly with a click.

Purge wiggled the handle of the door, just to check if it was locked. It was.

"Dang it." He sighed, retreating to the Calvin and Hobbs comic books again.



Fifteen minutes, and he was already bored. Thankfully, he wasn't bored for too long, for he found the ORMVTV (Over-rated Music Video Tele-Vision) network and found himself compelled to dance. He leapt to his feet and began to spin to his favorite song, only to ram his foot into the door, then trip fall into the wall, and get himself tangled in Ulala's quilt.

Maybe he shouldn't dance, he thought.



He had filtered through half of the Calvin and Hobbes, skimming through the individual comics he had read in other volumes. He took a forlone glance at the television-

Hey, Ulala!

He jerked up from his comic-induced trance and began watching Ulala on television, covering some kind of ostrich farm in Sector 57, which was near Mars but not close enough to be called Martian territory. Ulala stood in a fake-proud manner in front of an iron gate. Ostriches swarmed all around the reporting figure, unable to get past the security gate. As he watched, one ostrich craned his neck over the gate, and began twitching his head this way and that to figure out what exactly Ulala was...

"Now, these ostriches, despite popular belief, are actually farmed for their feathers. Due the to 2nd Amendment in the Endangered Species Ac-"

SNAP! The ostrich took a snap at Ulala's ponytail! Purge felt the laugh coming, but held it back; he didn't wan't to miss what Ulala had to say.

"OW!" The feminine reporter cringed back and held her hair while Noize laughed in the background. She giggled and touched up her hair. "Well, seems I have another fan." She looked at the snapping ostrich, which returned a blank stare. "I don't remember rescueing you. Where were you in the dance takeover?"

"Wawk!" the ostrich squawked before nabbing Ulala's microphone. She yelped and tugged it out of its mouth, then faced back to the camera. "Well, due to animal difficulties, this presentation will be a little short. This is Ulala, say-"

SNAP! This time, the ostrich's beak came down on one of her shoulderblades.

"-ing YOW!" She spun around full circle and pulled out her laser. "CHU!"

Out shot a bright pink beam of hearts, which hit the ostrich and pushed him and all his shyer playmates away from the gate.

She turned back to the camera, this time grimacing. "Forget the Endangered Species Act, ostriches must die."

But Purge missed this, for he was laughing too hard.



Now Purge was reading each Calvin and Hobbes in depth, for lack of much else to do. Every now and then, the picture of Ulala's face when the ostrich nipped her flashed through his head, and he'd chuckle. But that didn't last long. The boredom resurfaced soon, and he took a quick nap. It ended when he fell out of bed. He vowed to take no more naps.




"I'm hun-gryyyyyyyyyy!"



And Purge couldn't be happier. He was soooooooooooooooo flippin' bored. He'd read all of the Calvin and Hobbes books, two of them twice, nothing was on tv, and believe it or not, he actually wanted to talk to Ulala. Wanted to talk to somebody, anybody was better than nobody.


And he was also PAINFULLY HUNGRY!

He took a forlorn glance at Ulala's changing tube. "I wonder if she has my disco suit in there."



Ulala ran into the room and slammed the door behind her, a strap of hertop torn and one of her ponytails down, the rubber band holding it having been pulled off by a crazed fanboy. Despite having a rough day outside, her usually peaceful room wasn't much comfort now, either.


"Purge?" The little woman jumped and glanced around her room; he wasn't there! "Purge, where are you?"

"In your changing tube!"

Ulala blinked in surprise, then jerked on the tube's door, unable to open it. "Why are you in there?"

"I wanted to see if you had my disco suit!"

That's weird, thought Ulala, but then she remembered that she did have it and discarded the odd feeling she felt from the statement. She tugged at the door again. "Well, did you find it?"

And then, who should open the door and pop his head out of the tube... but Space Michael? He cried out in Purge's voice, "Does it look like I found it?"

"GAH! PURGE!" Ulala abruptly pushed him back into the pod and punched in a code, and out he popped in his desired clothes, landing face-first on Ulala's bed without his feet leaving the tube (her room was that small!). "That should teach you for poking around in a woman's closet!"

"Sorry!" Purge took off his sunglasses and stuffed them in his pocket. He sneered evilly, glancing at Ulala with an evil, mousy eye. "I saw you make friends with that ostrich on tv."

Ulala blushed, covering one of her cheeks and turning the uncovered one to the wall. "I-"

"I'm hungry," interjected the teenager. "When's dinner?"

"Dinner's not 'til 4:00." Ulala stepped into the changing tube. "You'll have to wait."

"I've been waiting since 10:00 this morning! I want dinner!" Purge stamped his foot as Ulala stepped into the changing tube.

"You have to wait." The was an abrupt flash, and Ulala stepped out in her peach dress and red sunglasses. "It's the rules of the station."

Purge scoffed. "Rules, rules, feh. I'm going, I'm hungry!"

Purge reached for the door, but Ulala caught his hand. She held it for a second, then rose it up to her cheek in thought, which made the 18-year-old Purge blush again. After a while, she dropped it to her side. "Well, I guess if I... yes, we can go."

She then grappled her hand onto his wrist like it was a fish about to jump back into the ocean, and pulled him behind her out into the hallway.

DONE! Notes, notes, let's see...

Calvin and Hobbes can pull you in more than a master hypnotist if you're not careful. Sadly, it does not keep you from getting bored.

Ulala's Ostrich Encounter is based on several accounts of real reporters being attacked by ostriches. I'm sure they share Ulala's opinion.

Heheh, Purge as Space Michael! Other versions had him dressed as Pudding, Coconut Ulala, and a silver Robot, but I thought Space Michael popping out of a woman's closet would be the scariest and most improbable occurence in the universe.