a/n: So, Pastel Ink makes me wanna write OT3. And the Usual Spot gang is cool, right? Right.
("Chickens don't count as animals, right?")
Seifer, although he was occasionally forced to eat healthy by well-meaning vegetarians (Olette) and those with a strange fixation with protein shakes (Hayner), was not one to make a decision based on food choices. He more or less ignored the four basic food groups in favor of chips and soda, of which he thrived on and used to make the lives of lesser mortals (Olette and Hayner) hell.
That being said, Seifer Almasy was not anyone's prime candidate to buy an impossibly small two-seater, fresh from the Vegetarian and Vegan Association in Europe.
"I am disgusted by this." Hayner said sourly, slurping furiously at his Mango-Banana Passion protein smoothie. He turned up his nose at the sight of the offensive car (something that Seifer found cute…in a disgustingly snobby, I-am-of-the-upper-crust way), and whirled around, gracing Seifer and the European Veg-Mobile with his back.
Seifer caressed the car with a finger and managed to say soothingly to the smaller blonde, "Shut up, man, it's great. I named it Gretel." His let his hands lovingly trace the hood before leering, "You'll be lucky if I ever let you ride in this beauty. So lucky."
"I'd rather walk." snarled Hayner, who was fast in becoming totally un-cute with the masculine growl and whatnot. It was slightly offset by his lower lip jutting out into something appallingly close to a pout, and the fact that Olette was attempting to mold herself to his neck.
Seifer looked at Olette beseechingly.
But apparently this wasn't a day to try to instill some vegetarian pride in the more attractive, yet slightly stupider portion of humanity, because the green-eyed girl said doubtfully, "You hate vegetables, Seifer. You would eat meat every day if we'd let you."
"Every day." Hayner confirmed, punctuating the validity of this statement with an extra-loud slurp from his protein smoothie.
"What on earth possessed you to buy a piece of vegetarian propaganda from Sweden?"
Seifer replied, stung, "I do support vegetarianism."
Olette snorted. "By going to KFC three times a week? I don't think so."
"In my heart?" he tried feebly.
Hayner pitched his empty styrofoam container at the hood of Seifer's Veg-Mobile to further convey his disbelief. Bits of mangos, bananas, wheatgerm, and passion sprayed everywhere.
The eldest of the three cried a bit (on the inside, much like the majority of men in the world). Olette winced and politely pretended not to see.
"You," said the sandy-haired blonde, "are full of shit. As punishment, I will be driving."
"Can you even drive legally? Have you got a license?" Olette questioned.
Hayner ignored her.
Due to a blatant lack of respect for personal space, ADD medication being ignored in favor of pixie sticks, and sincere misuse of upholstery, all three of them were probably going to die.
Seifer, who worshipped at a bowling alley on Sundays, had taken to muttering religious chants under his breath. It was a mixture of "Save me, God" and "I'm going to kill you, Hayner", with the odd girlish scream thrown in to mix things up a bit.
Olette was steadily turning different shades of green.
Both were seriously disrupting Hayner's concentration on the road, what with their shouting of "If I die, will you put fresh roses on my gravestone?" and "Stop driving on the wrong side of the road!" He sniffed. Negative energy was very distracting.
"I know what I'm doing." Hayner barked, stepping on the gas. Finding that he could probably push the gas pedal without keeping both feet below the dashboard, he decided to dangle a Converse-clad foot (the green ones today, he thought they complimented his eyes nicely) by the window.
"You do not." Olette snapped furiously from beneath Hayner, where she was attempting to secure the seatbelt over all three of them. "You are insane. The senior citizen will never be the same again." She turned to look at Seifer, who was squished underneath her. "You alright?"
Seifer said, in a very detached tone, "I've seen hell. And now I want to go home."
"I second that notion." she said gratefully. Traitor.
Hayner was displeased. "Don't make me pull over," he said threateningly, "because I don't know how."
"I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."
"…Think I left my stomach behind with that decapitated grandmother."
"You know what?" Hayner snapped. "Both of you can shut up. Seifer, your car is stupid and this is all your fault anyways. If you hadn't bought such a retarded car—" here, he slapped the dashboard, "—then I wouldn't have had to punish you. Idiot."
"Idiot!" echoed Olette, who was clearly showing her traitorous colors in the fear of death. Apparently, Seifer's offers to love her long time meant nothing, and it's not as if he said that to everyone (besides for Hayner, who had mostly ignored him when he had said it) . "It is your fault. All of it."
They both peered at him through the rearview mirror, Hayner narrowly avoiding the dismemberment of some poor child and her bouncy ball as they chorused triumphantly, "We're cutting you off for a week."
Seifer cried into the animal-free upholstery.