I couldn't have asked for better blackmail material, considering I normally couldn't get this close to the redheaded asshole currently, and most likely unknowingly, earning me YouTube fame. Oh Lord, Reno'll kill me if and when he finds out, but God, it'll be worth it and more; for I, the Great Ninja Yuffie, have scored the pleasure of spotting Reno of the Turks doing a pretty good (if I do say so myself) impression of a one Angus Young: stripping and all (not that that's a bad thing).

I don't even remember what prompted me to swing by his room, considering he really doesn't like me all that much. It might have been the fact that I could hear 'Highway to Hell' blasting from outside or maybe Fate just had something to do with it. Naturally, being a ninja trained in the art of stealthy approach, I snuck my merry way up to the Turk's room, leading me into a near bout of laughter that probably would've given me away. Never in my life did I expect to see Mr. Tall Pale Currently Shirtless and Hot playing the air guitar and rocking out to a band named after differing electrical currents.

Choosing the most opportune moment, I slunk off to Cloud's room to swipe his camera, because I didn't have mine and I hadn't yet filled my thievery quota for the day. Needless to say, when Spiky came up a few minutes later, his reaction was definitely what I had expected; a 'Damn! She took my friggin' camera!' was totally in order. I switched the camera to its video capture mode and hit the record button, and just in time too because the next song was starting. I literally had to shove my mouth into my jacket to stifle my giggles, Lord knows what would've happened had he heard me, oh shit. I vaguely wondered if he was going to sing along until he actually did, and his singing voice actually wasn't that bad.

To tell the truth, yes, I did feel like a bit of a creeper, but no, it didn't stop me at all. I'm a thief: I don't really have morals anymore. Granted I don't like killing or hurting people, but on average scruples are not the thing that ghost over my mind most often.

In the beginning

Back in nineteen fifty-five

Man didn't know 'bout a rock n' roll show

And all that jive

Oh sweet Jesus Christ, Savior and Lord, this was golden.

The white man had the smoltz

The black man had the blues

No one knew what they was gonna do

But Tchaikovsky had the news

He said—

"Let there be light," and there was light

"Let there be sound," and there was sound

"Let there be drums," and there was drums

"Let there be guitar," and there was guitar

"Let there be rock," and there was roll

If I'd have died right then and there, I would've died a happy woman. All the materia in the world couldn't have made me more ecstatic than I was at that moment, regardless of how priceless it was.

I smirked as he finished the song, admiring my handiwork. Of everything that could have possibly flown through my mind at that time, I only had one thought as I grinned like a guilty idiot.

I'm so going to Hell.

It had to be the best goddamn blackmail ever, yo. Who knew that Kisaragi enjoyed singing and dancing in her undergarments? I mean, fuck, I've heard of as well as seen girls that do the whole 'hairbrush popstar' thing, but this was definitely a first. And damn, she looked fine too, if I might add.

Who does Stickyfingers choose to listen to? Lady fuckin' Gaga, yo. Not that I had a problem with it, I just expected her to listen to something like Hannah What'sherface or some shit like that. But hot damn, if she'd dance like that for me, she could use her poker face on me all throughout our bad romance.

I pulled out my camcorder to capture that damn brilliant event. If I wanted to embarrass her, I had to have proof, yo. And proof it certainly was. I wasn't able to stay too long, mostly because my mind kept wanderin' into the playing field of 'I wonder what she'd look like naked'.

Let's just say I needed a few cold showers, yo.