Don't know if it's any good or not. Let's see if between all the junk I'm spouting out today I can get to make you laugh.

Read and review.

The Captain strode across the Millennium base hall as silently as he could. Silence came naturally to him, but this time he was holding a special parcel he had to order through very special channels. Sparing a thought for the rather unique video he was carrying inside his coat, he passingly thanked any deity overeeing him for gratefully sparing anybody else the knowledge of the rather lively contents of the tape he was checking out. He had heard much of the artists performing on the video and had gone to great lengths to receive a copy without having any of the Millennium echelons learn anything about it.

While he personally could care less about the opinion of the others, he was truly irritated by the talk the extremely graphic cover of the video alone would surely spawn. The damn thing had cost him more in delivery than by the contents themselves, but it had been worth every penny and would practically pay for itself with the sheer value of the relaxation and pleasure the Captain hoped he would get with it. Passingly, he entered his own private chambers (something he saw more of a bother than an asset, except for the times he desperately needed this kind of self-gratification and fulfilment), checked his training and official schedule and confirmed he would be free for the evening. Briefly opening the door and glancing down the hall, he duly noted he was perfectly alone. Mentally, he ticked off the Millenium lieutenants as they were otherwise engaged.

Rip Van Winkle and the Doctor were having an autopsy.

The Major and Schrodinger were in the former's office listening to the War Orchestra records.

Zorin was sparring with Jan Valentine.

Luke Valentine and Alhambra were down on Rio's biggest Casino.

He sighed in relief and prepared the setting for the oh, so rare evening dedicated to him and him alone. He closed the curtains, prepared a tub full of hot water and a tape of Verdi. After a lengthy session of letting the warmth seep in and ease his ached joints, he exited the bathroom, dried up and put on what accrued to be a relatively small piece of cloth, anticipating he would need something along those lines if he wanted to truly enjoy himself.

He popped in the video.

Several men started a rather brusque introduction to the video, to "ease" viewers to the true show. The Captain scoffed at the rather generic dialogue and perked up when it all began. Briefly smiling, the behemoth stared at the several men in attire of very questionable standards began moving. The group moved rather slowly, never amping the rhythm of their twists, jerks and thrusts beyond a certain limit. The Captain's smile broadened. Despite the rather inane intro, the men were clearly very good at what they did. Somewhat sheepishly at first, he raised his left leg, imitating the movements of the lead, telling to himself it was only to see if he could do the same. With a slow, slightly painful tensing of his spine, he managed to twist himself in a similar way. Despite being somewhat mortified with himself, he continued.

And somewhere within himself, the old soldier was having the delight of a lifetime.

The routine had hardly gone on for more than half an hour when a high-pitched voice piped in.

-Herr Kapitaaaan!

And the werewolf's body momentarily tensed, and only with very, very rigidly controlled jerks, the Captain avoided a highly painful spasm.

Schrodinger. The cat-boy whose inability to understand the term "personal space" marked him as the number one person the Captain had to deal with.

-Herr Kapitaaan! Oh, sehr gut. Here... uhhh... here you are.

The catboy had promptly materialized next to the Captain, who resignedly paused the video and sat down in a lotus position to hear what the little abomination had to say. He got promptly ignored as Schrodinger's gaze glued on the TV and the image it kept displaying. Sighing with the pain of knowledge of what came next, the Captain began drumming his fingers in abject anticipation of the dread to come when the pest blabbed about his secret hobby to the entire base.

-Ummm. Herr... herr Major ist looking for you...

The towering soldier closed his eyes and rose. He opened his old dresser and disgustedly threw an uniform into the bed.

Sitting on the mat where the Captain had been sprawled, Schrodinger asked:

-Vhat ist zis, herr Kapitan?

As he again threw on the huge overcoat, the Captain rubbed the bridge of his nose and pointed to the box of the video. Schrodinger studied it with some attention and carefully laid it out again with some feeling between respect and squickiness to the top of the TV. Slightly put off by the pictures in the box, he childishly asked:

-Do I vant to know about zis or am I not old enough?

The Captain prized himself in being a reasonable, tolerating person.

So instead of ripping Schrodinger's arms out of their sockets, he merely opened his door and literally punted Schrodinger out of his room.

The astonished catboy remained several moments unable to cope with the fact he had been forcefully evicted in such an egregious manner. But his mind kept drifting back to the image he'd seen, frozen in the Captain's TV. Passingly, the temptation to return in there and see a bit more of it crossed his mind, but he decided he'd only enrage the werewolf if he did that. As an afterthought, he imitated in passing what he'd seen the men in the video do, earning himself more than a few grossed out glances from nearby soldiers.

This only served to confuse Schrodinger more. Why on Earth was the Captain seeing a video of nearly-naked men doing what seemed to be really gross gymnastics?

Two buildings to the side, the Doctor and Rip were suturing the empty corpse of a former underling who'd failed to make the cut, when the catboy materialized behind both of them, eyes really, really round. After the brief initial scare, the Doctor furiously asked:

-What on Earth are you doing here, Warrant Officer? Shouldn't you be with the Major?

The catboy opened and closed his jaw a few times as he thought of how to formulate his question. He settled on asking Dok what the title of the video meant.

-Dok, what's yoga?

Ladies and gentlemen, the first time the Captain tried an alternative form of relaxation. For those interested, he eventually settled on Tai Chi.