Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. I really don't. You would know if I did because I wouldn't be posting on Fanfiction. It would actually happen. XD Durr!
You know, every once in a while, I look at my old works and I realize how much I sucked at writing. Well, I still do, but back then, it was just embarassing. Then, I scan the openings of all my fanfictions and then I see how stupid I sound. It makes me sad :( Haha Watch, in 3 weeks, I'm going to regret this opening too. Trust me, I can spot my flaws :P
So, I love infomercials. Who doesn't? My friend and I always trade ShamWow videos, so that's the first chapter. Originals, remixes, Youtube poops, Spanish versions, Billy Mays comparisons, SO great. And all you Vince fans, don't worry, the Slap Chop will also get its turn! So, I advise you at least watch the original if you want to have a reference to what I'm talking about. Things make more sense that way. And, the beginning dialogue is from the movie Identity, so if you've seen it, you'll get it. If not, that's fine. Not too important.
By the way, the term "Coral Conundrum" comes from another one of my Death Note fanfictions on here. (Bitch Stepped on My Floorcake) Yes, crack on top of crack inside more crack with a little bit of premium crack grated on top. Please enjoy.
He was walking, drenched by the ever present rain, down the dingy rusted space between the two indistinguishable grease traps. Wiping his sodden locks from his slick brow, he padded lightly, cautiously, down into the darkness.
"Where did you go Edward? What did you see?"
Ed's voice cut out, immediately replaced by an awful static that dissipated with another click.
"Matsuda!" Light yelled, leaning over the back of the suede couch to scorn the idiot to end all idiots behind him.
"What?" Matsuda asked defensively, tugging the remote closer to his chest.
"You son of a shit!" L said loudly, obviously not in tune with a thing most people call normal wordplay.
"Hey! My mother was not a shit! She was a bitch and you will address her as such!" Matsuda yelled, pulling further away with the remote still in his grasp.
"Oh, sorry. Now, turn the channel back! We're learning more about the minds of serial killers!" L said sharply, shifting as he reached for the remote locked in Matsuda's hands.
"But it's scary!" Sir Idiot whined in his childish drone.
"Grow a pair, will you Matsu?" Light groaned as he snatched the remote away.
"A pair of what?"
"I don't think you can grow those, but I've heard of some nifty surgeries that will do the trick…AHA!" He lunged for the controller again, but his efforts were in vain. He shuffled off, dragging his feet across the Coral Conundrum (shameless Floor Series plug) and got a nice shock on the way out. That commonplace demonstration of static electricity changed everything for Matsuda.
"Oh my God…I CAN CONTROL ELECTRICITY!" He spent the next few hours honing his superhuman abilities, blissfully unaware of the concept know as science.
Finally, Matsu the Stupid was ready.
He snuck around, pulling a less-than-graceful rendition of Mission Impossible out of his ass while he ran around trying to find his first victims: Light and L. Matsuda found then on the couch again, this time watching Silence of the Lambs. But the horror movie did not discourage Super Moron this time around, oh no. It was his turn to inspire fear.
He slid his feet across the carpet again, charging his laser and then, he pounced. Sticking his fingers in Light and L's business, he gave them a shock.
The detectives glanced at each other and Light said "God, Matsuda, that is so immature. If you wanted the TV so badly, you didn't have to stoop that low. Jesus. Come one L, let's go act gay in front of Misa. She could use another heart attack..." They left, tossing the remote on the couch.
Matsuda jumped again and, sitting criss-cross applesauce, started watching the infomercial channel, completely forgetting his totally amazing super power and settling down for some mind numbing advertisement. I swear that stuff halts all thought. Now, Matsuda was a total pro. If there was one thing he came halfway close to competence in, it was watching hokey infomercials. He groaned as another "warm fuzzy" lady popped up with her stupid girly vag shaver or something like that. He went channel surfing, seeing the same old, wrinkled cake faces, only to stop 3 or 4 useless commercials later.
That's when Matsuda found what he'd been looking for.
A strapping young man brandishing an obtrusively yellow towel jumped on screen and his boyish enthusiasm brought life to the dead room.
"Hi, I'm Vince with ShamWOW!"
Matsuda, entranced by Vince's breathtaking charisma, crept closer to the TV set and traced a finger along the edge of his face, or what it would be had the TV screen not blocked Matsuda's curious fingers.
Totally unaware of how high a stalker status he'd reached, Matsuda watched as the ShamWow picked up a glorious amount of liquid. He drooled, then wishing he had such a superior product. But as soon as Matsuda saw that 1-800 number scroll along the bottom of the screen, Matsuda realized that he could in fact own a part of the absorbent sensation. He grinned as he picked up the phone and dialed the life-changing hotline. He gave the telemarketer his name, address, and credit card number, yelling each bit of information just a smidge too loud.
The wait for the glorified towel was excruciatingly long, distracting Matsuda from his working, making him even less helpful in the investigation.
He took an ordinary towel with him to bed each night, but he couldn't help but think about the ShamWow as he caressed himself with the boring, mundane square of cloth.
And, after a week, a package came to the door for Matsuda.
Never knowing who might have wanted to blow up Stupid Factor 9, the team inspected the box.
And they found a towel.
The team just tossed it at him and they ignore Matsuda through his squee fit and victory dance.
That same day, Matsuda walked into the kitchen where Light was enjoying a hearty glass of milk. Which Matsuda promptly slapped out of his hand.
"Matsuda!" Light yelled, greatly upset at the loss of his cherished dairy product. But then, Matsuda bent down and sopped up the spilt milk that Light was totally crying over.
"…No more TV, Matsuda."
Hmmm. Maybe I should make this into a series...I have an idea for the next chapter. Want to stop it doesn't/make sure this happens? Review!