"How much do you want this job?" Sir Integral asked.

The tall blonde man in his military uniform squirmed a bit under her gaze, despite the top of her head barely reaching his collarbone. "Is depending on what job is."

"Your ad in Mercenaries Monthly stated that your English was good." she said, mentally kicking herself for asking Pip the bloody Frenchman to read the ad and not just reading it herself.

"My English is many good, like I am saying in ad! I am wanting job very muchly. Bear food is not cheaps, like trinket sold by gypsy. Is expensive, like car or house. I am needing rubles."

"We pay in pounds. This is England. You wouldn't happen to be Protestant, would you?"

"I am very protesting high price of bear foods in this country." he answered.

"That's not… fine. I don't care. How are you with numbers?"

"I am being many good with numbers!" he said, slightly excited. "When I am child and raised in woods by bear, I am bear accountant."

Integra, silently hoping that her mental fogginess had come from the half a quart of Scotch that she had drunk this morning with breakfast, asked, "And what, pray tell, is a bear accountant?"

Happy to talk about something he knew so much about, he answered, "Is one bear out of pack who is chosen to count and keep track of foods. Is being many important job, because if bear is untrustworthy like Chechen mercenary, then he is taking food for himself and nots telling no one. I am always putting on resume, but no one is reading."

"You know what?" said Integra. "Fine. I have a desk job open that I'd like you to fill."

Happily, he asked, "What is job?"

"You will be keeping track of any occurances on the grounds for future records. While we don't have an office open, there is a small patch of woods where no one goes," -because of all the bodies that Alucard has left there, she thought-"and I believe that one of the men has a van for sale. When can you start?"

Number of awesome buts fucking crazies weapons created and tested on stupid Frenchman who is stupid and French: one.

Integra rubbed her eyes as she stepped out onto the balcony, her glasses pushed up onto her forehead. Her powder blue bathrobe and slippers betrayed an air of casualness that, considering the .32 automatic in her pocket and silver-edged switchblade in her slippers, it really should not have.

She yawned, organized her thoughts whilst trying to block out the memory of the usual bizarre nightmare that was a nightly gift from Alucard, and pushed her glasses down onto her face.

'no,' she thought. 'I'm imagining that.' she took off the glasses, rubbed them with her sleeve, then put them back on. "No." she said aloud, firmly, as though it would make reality stop being quite so mean to her way of seeing it.

Alucard was happily tinkering away in the lawn with what looked like a purple and yellow slide, and an old cannon.

"ALUCARD!" she yelled from the balcony. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!"

Her stomach lurched, and she found herself on the lawn next to her giant, terrifying servant.

"Please don't ever do that again." she said. "Teleportation is not as fun for everyone else as it is for you. Seriously, though, what are you doing?"

Alucard stepped back, and stretched. "It's okay, I talked it over with Walter."

"Talked what over with Walter?" she said.

"This idea that I had for a weapon. Normally, I of course hate the sun, but this is a special exception. I stayed up all night finding the materials for this!" he proudly stated, sizzling slightly from the face.

Integra rubbed her temples, wishing that she had the foresight to store a hip flask in her bathrobe. "what is it, Alucard?"

"Well," He began. "I got the idea from talking with Walter about smart bombs. He made a joke that if they were any smarter, they would carry weapons of their own. And I had a great idea!"

Walter, huffing and puffing, came up behind the two, then bent over to catch his breath. "And that's, when, he ran out of the lab. I tried to follow him-"

"Let me finish, Walter. Now, then, I-"

"Where did you get the slide… whatever that is?" Integra asked.

"Stole it from a playground. It came with some kids in it, so I dumped them… somewhere, I forget. The lake, I think."

"That's not a lake." Integra interrupted. "That's a swimming pool that you installed for yourself without my consent, which you then used to keep your pet crocodile in."

"Well, of course. He couldn't very well stay in the women's locker room any more. They kept upsetting him."

"That's not…. Where did you get a cannon from?"

"Garage." Alucard said nonchalantly. "Your father bought it at my urging. It was meant as a home defense weapon, to be loaded with four or five pounds of buckshot, but we forgot where it was."

"Of course." Walter said, making a mental note to search the house for hidden weapons and hide them from Alucard. "Do go on."

"Well, I think that a demonstration should be enough." Alucard said. "PIP!"

"OUI!" Pip called from fifty feet across the yard, standing on a huge red X.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Alucard pulled a barrel with 'FUN' marked on the side in yellow lettering that should have weighed several times what he did out of his coat, loaded it onto the slide, and lit the cannon fuse.

The cannon belched, the giant Barrel shot up from the slide, and broke apart in midair, revealing eight or nine Chimpanzees, each armed with a silver sword.

They fell upon the screaming Frenchman, and blood spurted into the air as the Chimpanzees shouted their war cries to the air, screaming and biting and slashing.

"I am a Genius." Alucard said proudly.

"I need coffee." said Integra. "You know what? Sure. Fine. Put a monkey cannon into production. I don't even care anymore."

"MERDE! MY FLEEESSSH!" Pip screamed, punching at the Chimpanzees.

Number of mailmen being killeds by giant psychopath who is many crazies in his head: one. Today.

Integral's silent motion detector set up outsider her office blinked red once, triggering her practiced reflexes, as she dug a Walther P99 out of her desk drawer.

Walter was in and had the door closed before she had the safety off. "I see you're getting rusty, Sir Integra. Perhaps you should lay off the afternoon scotch?"

"I'll lay off the painkiller when the pain in my life, namely, Alucard, stops." Integra said, pouring two fingers for herself. Two vertical fingers. "What is it, Walter?"

"I wanted to talk to you about the staffing shortage with the help. Not the French mercenaries, they're wonderful in their own way with the drinking and the target practice on the roof and the pissing in the houseplants, but I can't get them to clean up the house." he complained.

"But I thought that we still had maids." Integra said, brow furrowed.

"We've had to fire them all except for the seventy-five year old cook. Alucard is a walking sexual harassment suit, you see, so this year we've introduced a hiring policy against able-bodied young women."

"I would have thought that Pip would have set up a petition against that." Integra mused.

"You have to realize that the spelling skills of mercenaries are not high, Sir Integral."

"Of course, of course. Actually, you've given me an idea." Integra dialed the phone on her desk.

Meanwhile, downstairs:

Briiiiiiiinnng!

"AAAH!" Alucard shot the phone on the floor. "DIE! DIE! WHAT ARE YOU, VILE, NOISY CREATURE! DIE!"

Upstairs.

Integra, wincing from the gunshots, put the phone down. "Perhaps I should have explained to Alucard how phones work before giving him one."

Walter sighed. "It wouldn't have done any good. He still thinks that the television has tiny men inside it. I'm fairly sure that he stopped paying attention to new trends in technology over five hundred years ago."

Integra retrieved a megaphone from under her desk. "ALUCARD!"

"Yes?" he said, melting through the floor.

"YEEEAAAH-can't you enter a room like a normal person? Just for once?" she sat down again. "Alucard, Walter needs help with the housework. Do whatever he says to do. Go. Both of you. I have reports to notarize."

As Alucard and Walter walked downstairs, Walter began, "I could just tell you, but you'll forget, so I'm going to write everything down. Turn around. " Walter clicked a pen and put a piece of paper against Alucard's back.

"Fine, fine! What do you think I am, stupid?" Alucard grabbed the piece of paper and walked away.

"I just know that this isn't going to turn out well…" Walter said, putting hand to forehead.

Wash the dishes.

"Fine! Easy!" Alucard ripped the sink out of the wall, emptied it onto the floor, and sprouted Baskerville the Hellhound from his arm. "Heeere boy! I have some dishes for you to lick!"

After the broken dishes were left on the ground, covered in giant horrible monster dog slobber, Alucard wandered away, leaving them on the floor. "That wasn't so hard. What's the next one?"

Seras, who was walking back from the range, stopped, Harkonnen in hand. "Master, why are you talking to yourself?"

"Police girl, why are you not polishing my coffin?"

Mow the lawn.

"Easy as an unconscious hooker." Alucard finished pouring out the can of gasoline that he had found onto the lawn, then lit a match and tossed it down onto the ground. "It's not like he said that I had to use the lawnmower…"

Finish painting the dining room red before the council comes over tonight for dinner.

Bored already, Alucard checked the can of red paint, which was still depressingly full. "Now, how do I…"

A floor below, he noticed Seras chatting with Pip over a table full of pistols that Seras was learning to dismantle and clean. "Perfect."

Alucard opened the window, and poured the rest of the can onto Seras' head, which, while amusing, could only be done once as that was his last can of paint.

Alucard surveyed the rest of the dining room, which was about 9/10 done. "Hmmm…."

Ding-dong.

Paul had had his luckiest break yet last week, when he got a job working at the post office under his parole officer's older half-sister. Maybe, just maybe, his life was beginning to get better.

The door opened, and a huge man stepped out, his red coat and wide-brimmed hat making him seem like a giant, skinny red mushroom. "Hello."

"I have a package here for a Sir Integral Hellsing. I'll need someone to sign for this-"

"That's not important. How much blood do you have in you?"

"Uh…" Paul thought. "The normal amount? I guess? Listen, I can just leave this-OH FUCK MY ORGANS!"

later, that night:

"Walter, go check on how Alucard's doing, will you?" Integra asked.

Walter walked downstairs, and opened the door to the dining room. "Alucard, are you done with-"

Alucard smeared the disemboweled corpse against the corner of the wall, then threw it through the window, not bothering to check if it was open to begin with. "Done."

"...Was that a mailman's outfit?"

"I ran out of paint."

Walter sighed, and began to dial his cell phone to get Pip to move the body off the lawn. "Say, something smells like it's burning. Like... Grass..."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Vasily belongs to SFTiki, and Hellsing and all contained characters belong to Kohta Hirano.

And the mail service really should just stop delivering to the Hellsing estate, after the time when Walter asked Alucard to paint the shed. And the gazebo. And Integra's bedroom….