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Organization XIII


Phantom Roxas

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Davok's story reminded me of this one day when I was visiting this new shopping district. In fact I guarantee this day was weirder then whatever he's going to tell us.

 

[align=center]One day I was walking down the street and met this woman who was a total jabroni. I stopped to ask her what time it was. She seemed shocked and told me her cell phone was dead. I told her to check the rather odd looking watch she was wearing.

 

“….you actually expect me to use this? It’s a fashion statement not a nerdy clock.”

 

“Actually madam”, I responded (“mad” being the perfect word to begin with when addressing one such as her) “What you have there on your wrist has been used for centuries by some of the most stylish, intelligent, and influential people in history.”

 

“For srs?”

 

I promptly told her that that they did not wear watches to display their fealty to a department store, however useful their products may be in everyday life. Her eyes widened with fear as she thrust a rather odd looking pistol hewn from what looked like kitchen appliances (I would later find out that it fired black-eyed peas at high velocities) out of her purse.

 

“YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!” She shouted, as she proceeded to call a taxi. “You do not talk like that about SEARS!” she reprimanded me, as we waited for the vehicle to arrive. Tiring of her blather, I let my thoughts drift off to crepes. When the taxi finally arrived it was fairly obvious that this was not, in fact, your average cab. It was stone green, with a hint of orange cream somewhere in there. I’d throw more adjectives around trying to sound fancy, but I really don’t think you have the time nor the desire to hear a laundry list of exposition regarding the most hideous vehicle to exist outside of a Mexican ghetto. Suffice it to say that this was not a first class ride. This was the sort of car a colorblind dyslexic raccoon would drive.

 

A bag that reeked of potatoes was cast over my head. “Comfortable?” inquired the woman in a snide, pseudo-caring voice. I demanded to know why my potato hadn’t come with chives, and that my ginger ale needed some refilling. I came to the conclusion that she was not amused after the third blow collided with my head. I think I only barely managed to stay conscious through my sheer force of will. A burning desire to ask about the sour cream as well may have played a bit of a role there too.

 

Eventually the automobile came to a grinding halt, stopping in front of a SEARS department store. If my destination wasn’t already obvious to you, I suggest you go watch Citizen Kane. The ending will be a real shocker. Anywho, upon being marched at gunpoint through the threshold of what I believe was a door (although I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of being marched through the gate of a conveniently placed vegetable garden. Perhaps that was just the potato sack I was smelling. Either way, I digress), it dawned on me I had missed the opportunity to make a joke referencing vodka while in the taxi. Deeply saddened by this, I decided to listen to the voices in my head for a second. And I mean a second, because I immediately shut them out upon being hit with a barrage of questioning asking why I hadn’t called them in so long. Seriously. That’s god damn annoying. Maybe if they didn’t jabroni so much I’d call once or twice a week or maybe even engage them in a round of ping pong. But of course that would never happen. Entities with no physical manifestation weren’t very good at handling a paddle after all. I realized that they were just douchebags in general when that line of reasoning led me to conclude that they would have difficulty picking up a phone, must less maintaining a conversation that didn’t seem like one of those YouTube videos that has to buffer over 9000 times per frame. I’d have to evict them with some brain bleach later.

 

Upon my return to reality, it became apparent that this was not your average SEARS. The walls were lined with layers upon layers of rather lewd objects, the details of which I shall not delve into (I’m sure your imagination can conjure up something more fantastically perverted than mere words can convey anyway). I’ll just say that the interior designer really had a thing for silicone, and leave it at that.

 

This is the part where there was some big Hannibal lecture about the nature of humanity and stuff. That you expected. What you didn’t expect, was that I was lecturing an object on the wall, simply because the story the woman was telling me about a secret war between department stores was such utter idiotic bullshit that I’d rather have a conversation with a sex toy.

 

Realizing I would go insane if this didn’t stop, I walked over to the wall and retrieved my weapon of choice. It was a nice firm yet silky smooth one, ridged on one end with vibration capabilities. Swinging it at her, I activated the vibrator just before the impact, causing a jolt of force to amplify the force of the blow. This in turn launched her across the room. The ensuing crash of colliding with a conveniently placed desk caused her watch to shatter. Out came a spirit, which promptly informed me that I had freed the soul of Costco. After enjoying some delicious yet affordable churros, I took my leave of this silly shopping district and went home. Upon arrival I promptly watched some Vampire Knight and went to bed, my newfound weapon enjoying its lofty spot above my fireplace. At this point I imagine it’s watching my cat get high on catnip and pass out.

 

And that was the day I realized a dildo is a perfectly acceptable substitute for a gunblade.

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Weird' date=' I once was commissioned to make a vibrator with a gunblade motor for a Sears store....

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f***ing security cameras capturing me on film and letting douchebag SEARS employees steal my ideas.

 

Huh? That was years ago....

 

They demanded a refund, said the prototype was stolen by a sarcastc jabroni with a cravart.

 

Whoever he is should be ashamed of himself.

 

Infinitus.

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You....cried Rox? You prefer the Guilmon/Takato voice' date=' really?

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I said I wanted to cry. And yes, I do prefer the Guilmon/Takato voice. Takato had the voice of a strong boy, fighting for his friends, and Guilmon is STEVEN MOTHERUCKING BLUM. And his Guilmon voice is adorable. Not to mention the synchronized voices are cool. DataSquad!Gallantmon's voice sounds like, along with the other Royal Knights, poor attempts at being badass.

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DataSquad!Gallantmon's voice sounds like' date=' along with the other Royal Knights, horrifyingly bad attempts to do Ye Olde English knight voices.

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This is exactly why I said Masaru's english voice makes every other voice in Data Squad irrelevant.

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@Amethyst: I do believe some rather pertinent questions were just answered.

 

@Rox: I liked the duo voices too. I also liked how in 03, the Digimons' voices mostly stayed the same in each evolution, as opposed to radically changing each time.

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I didn't mind the fact that they changed voices. Seriously, don't you think it would've seemed weird if WarGreymon had the same voice as Agumon?

 

Plus, would you really expect a 5 year old kid to have the same voice 20 years later?

 

Same basic concept. Tak!

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@Zex: Do yourself a favor and don't watch the Sword Beast arc. It's horrible over all.

 

There are a few good scenes in between. Like the ones with Kazeshini. <3

 

@Topic: Trigun also has a good dub. Although, Vash's voice does sound kind of silly sometimes.

 

@Bleach Dub: Tried to watch it, heard Byakuya's voice, never watched it again. >.>

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