Anarchy in YCM, Part 1: Blood Stained Cherries

[Dad]

The day had been slow.  I got up early that morning, tending to my hygiene before erasing that hard work with eggs and bacon.  I sat at the kitchen table with my thoughts, manifesting themselves as a duplicate pair of hands, while I went over my objectives in my head.  A hand written list laid out carefully before me, I saw the first name, and smiled.  "Sakura Haruno," I said aloud, softly to myself.  Taking a sip of my water, I wiped my mouth, and stood to my feet.  "What do I know about you?"  Washing my utensils and my plate, I dressed while pondering over my malicious scheme.  I slipped into a pair of solid black pants, a navy blue collared shirt and heavy black boots.  I tossed a black trench coat over my back for good measure, before grabbing a heavy metal briefcase from my closet.  Rummaging through its contents, I decided on four unique weapons, placing them on my person.  "This should do," I mused as I moved towards my door.

 

Before leaving, a shimmering caught my eye.  "Whoops.  Might need this," I said to myself as I strapped a gold watch  to my left wrist.  It was a quarter to nine in the morning, in October.  Last night's weather report said it would be a cool, breezy day, so I picked up a last minute pair of black leather gloves and a black hat from my night stand.  Smoothly sliding out of the hotel room, I was greeted by the grey skies of the General Section in the distance.  The standard threads probably meandering off course as its workers found naught to do.  This was the best place to start, however.  It would take me some time, but I had to do it today.  I ran down the first flight of stairs, and made my way into the lobby.  I ran a quick lap around the front forum page before slipping through the General Section's doors.  As the previous page became a part of my past, I found I was correct.  "Figures," I mumbled, looking at the marked doors of today's threads.  Freedom of Speech, Steven Universe, Wrestling, and Presidential Debates.  These were all hot topics, and the ninja was sure to be drawn to them.  I decided to start with the last of them, and made my way towards the GOP Discussion.

 

Only two had gathered inside the dark thread, and I hadn't had much information on the work before me.  As far as I was concerned, the only thing I needed to know about Trump and his pals was how soon they were going to be shipped to Mars.  They were seated not far from each other, on opposite stools at an elongated wooden table.  A nod of greetings to "cr47t" and his lone co-worker "Deadpool117", and I took a seat of my own in the furthest corner from them both.  I did put in a few minutes of my time into reviewing the night's previous debate, but I had work to do.  If the target wasn't here, there was no need for me to laze around.  I got up silently, and exited out of the black frost stained glass door.  Even though it was empty now, it was sure to become a slug fest later.  I would have to revisit if only to learn more.

 

I made my way next door to the Wrestling Thread, unsure of why it caught my eye.  The door's glass was stained red this time, and I opened it slowly, peeking inside.  The room was a bit brighter, littered with the familiar scent of testosterone, blood lust, and cheap whiskey.  The barkeep, "Strike First", was deep in conversation with his only patron at the time.  I'd come across this guy before.  "Halu" if I recall his name right.  Decent enough person.  Good taste in music, and didn't come off as an jabroni.  But not wanting to take away from their back and forth trading, I watched them tip glasses to one another, even in disagreement.  I decided against standing inside, and so I closed the door and continued down the halls of General where I reached the pink frosted glass door of the Steven Universe thread.

 

"Halu" must have gotten in through a back door, because I had seen his face once more.  "Damn, he's quick," I said under my breath as I stepped completely inside.  I'd heard about the bullshit going down over the SU fandom, so I was a little more informed walking in.  But even reading over the paper I was handed upon entering, I was still in disbelief.  Bullying someone over perceived images of their own personal art?  I took my hat off and had a seat at a lone table as I laid my eyes over the black and white.  The article was heavy; not physically but emotionally.  I couldn't put it down.  I eventually took my cellphone out of my pocket and did a bit more research, only to discover a disgusting truth.  A girl had been bullied, driven to suicide because someone didn't agree with her artwork.  What a bunch of disgusting funking human beings.  I took the paper and folded it neatly into my large coat pockets.  I looked around, recognizing a few comrades of mine, among a few new guys who were quickly piecing things together while suffering over this tragic loss.

 

"Ain".  That slick bastard.  It would be a shame when it came down to it, but I put this target out of my mind as I continued checking out the room.  "Cold Sleeper", said the label above this one's head.  I didn't quite notice him, and I hadn't bumped into him before.  I would have to ignore him for now.  ".Rai" was there too.  This was a hell of an opportunity.  My hand itched over the cold steel in my pocket, but I decided against it.  Two in one place was nice, but I had a target in mind, and I didn't want to blow my cover so recklessly just to score an extra fish.  I was gonna be eating regardless.  Another newbie's name hovered over his big head.  "Guardsman Sly Marbo"?  What the funk kind of name was that?  I mean, I wasn't mad at the guy, I was just confused.  I'm sure it served a purpose.  And of course "Saiku".  I don't recall butting heads with this one, but he was familiar.  Yet, my target was no where to be found.  I was sure this was going to be it.  I was damned set on letting it all go in this room, but that God damn ninja had evaded me once again.  I decided to voice my thoughts on the job, and just let it out.

 

"One word describes this for me.   Disgusting.  And she actually did commit suicide from what I've read.  It's a cold funking world, and it's a God damn shame some people can celebrate a girl's death that was drove on by an innocent attempt to have fun.  As awesome as this show is, I despise its fandom as a whole.  funk you."

 

I quickly turned around and left, not caring to hear replies on something that really bothered me.  It was a loss of life, and over something so innocent and fragile.  It was all I needed to hear.  I stepped out of the frosted pink glass door, and moved on.  "Rest in peace, little lady," I said to myself solemnly as I found the last door on the row.

 

"Freedom of Speech. . ." it read.  If "Haruno" wasn't here, I was gonna lose it.  The door was frosted red, white, and blue.  How typical.  I put my hands on the cold brass handle, and yanked the door open, with my eyes immediately landing on "Halu".  "What the sheet?"  This guy was probably a ninja too.  He was everywhere.  The paper handed to me at the door didn't really catch my eye, so I settled for silently listening to the voices, as I examined the occupants.  "Cold Sleeper" had managed to worm his way in when I wasn't looking, but I liked the way he put down his jacket and hat.

 

"My stance is if you don't like free speech, shut up."

 

That was basically my view, but I wouldn't be interested in sharing it.  Since I had that freedom and all.  But then, another voice spoke up.  One I recognized.  My vision almost blurred as my head jerked around to see who it was.  That pink hair could only belong to "Haruno".

 

"There is still need for free speech.

If we didn't have it, then people would get into trouble for speaking their mind, even if a lot of stuff they say is indeed true.

 

Do they want to be like North Korea, where even one small slip lands you in concentration camps?

 

Certainly, there will be people who use their freedom of speech to write heated/controversial opinions on certain people/politics or whatever the hell you want (and that is protected by our rights), and indeed that is so.

 

There are certainly limits to what one can say in public w/out risking defamation suits and the like, but as a whole, it should not be abolished.

If someone writes slander about you in a local paper, then yeah it's crossing the line. Same goes for calling people out at work; you lose your job or some other thing.

 

Bottom-line, if you don't like what someone says (and it's not directly affecting you), just shut up and move on."

 

"Heh," I said nodding my head in agreement.  That was a perfect way to put it.  But I couldn't let politics distract me now.  I had a job to do.  Lowering my hat over my face just enough, I drew Last and Rights from my pockets, as I called his name.  "Haruno!" I declared, my face just barely obscured by the black hat over my head.  He turned to look at me, his eyes wide with horror.  "Don't take it personally.  It's just business."

 

He immediately dove behind a marble statue of Benjamin Franklin, as I unleashed my own steel version of the constitution on our founding fathers.  "What the hell!?  Are you nuts!?" he screamed at me over the sounds of my guns.  "I'd tell you what I am, but I think that's too much in your favor," I said with a smile.  The others began to scram, and that's when my vision turned red for a moment.  If I turned off of my tunnel visioned target, I could lay waste to a vulnerable ".Rai", "Ain", and "Flame Dragon".  What a wonderful session this was.  But I decided against it once more.  They would have their moment in the spotlight.  Today was all about "Sakura".  They scrammed for the door, and I didn't try to stop them.  I kept "Sakura" pinned behind Ben, if only for a moment.  He heard me go to reload, and he dashed for a new hiding spot in the brief split second that my eyes moved off of him.

 

"What are you after me for!?"

 

"Told you Sakura," I called to him as I cocked the hammer on my handcannons.  "It's just business."  But before I could let off another flurry of shots, he asked me an interesting question.  "Business with who!?"  I chuckled, tracing his voice to the lovely black marble service desk littered with American Flags.  "In the interest of my client's privacy, I'm afraid I can't answer that."  I poured six rounds into the service desk, but it was extremely thick.  It would take another clip just to break it.  I put the guns back in their holsters, as I reached for a cylinder on my belt.  Yanking it free, I tossed it over the counter, as the gas consumed "Haruno" in an instant.  I heard him hacking and coughing, as he tried to slip away from the canister.  However, he quickly fell unconscious, his arm landing freely just outside the view of the desk.  I snatched up his body quickly, and dragged him out of the rear exit.

 

After managing to secure a vehicle, we rode off for roughly an hour, until I came to my hiding spot.  I lugged the bastard inside, and tied him to a rickety wooden chair.  The ground was still damp inside, so I removed his shoes and sat his feet in a puddle of water to wake him up.  It was cold and disgusting, as he awoke with a start.  Fortunately, I had managed to mask my face before he got a good look at me.  He struggled, as expected, but I knew it was going to be a hell of a fight with this one to get what I needed.  

 

"What'dya want!?" he screamed at me.  I slapped him, holding that cheeky little face with a tight grip.  "You scream at me again, on my property, and I'll make you swallow your fingers, one at a time," I barked back.  He whimpered, as I let him go, and he kicked furiously, trying to keep his feet up.  "You're gonna give me information, Haruno," I said taking a car battery out, and laying it beside me in his view.  "What are you gonna do with--"

 

"Shut up!"  I took a pair of pliers off the table and sat them atop the car battery, along with two charging cables.  'You're gonna tell me what I wanna know.  About the rest of your friends.  And when I'm done, you're gonna change your name."

 

"Change my--change my name?" he said nearly in tears.

 

"That's right.  Now we're on the same page," I said revealing my last tool to be a baseball bat, circled in barbwire.  His eyes turned red as tears streamed down his face.  "To-to-to what!?" he screamed again.  I put the bat to his knee, as he hollered for mercy.  "To Traitor."

[The Ghostwriter]

Well, well, this has certainly captured my attention. I wonder what you are planning to have happen to the Moderator, I wonder...

[Dad]

Well, well, this has certainly captured my attention. I wonder what you are planning to have happen to the Moderator, I wonder...

 

Well Mr. Ghostwriter, time will only tell.  I'm hoping you'll keep your ethereal eyes here and we can reveal that information soon enough.

[Guardsman Sly Marbo]

This reminds me of that one south park episode where Stan quite literally enters Facebook.

 

That's a good thing. Pls keep it coming for gr8 justice!