((I've finally decided to upload some old stuff I'd written, so here you have it. Written 26 May 2006.))
Warnings: utterly stupid; anti-yaoi (can't stand it *shudders*); undescribed violence; completely censored obscenity. To understand it you'll have to not only know Saiyuki, but have a bit of an idea of its usual fanfic.
And it begins...
It was not a dark and stormy night, because if it were, Genjo Sanzo the 31st of China would not have been anywhere near the empty isolated field invented solely for plot purposes. It was daytime; Hakkai was working on preparing the next meal, the saru was probably bugging him, and the kappa - he didn't want to think about what the kappa was doing.
Suddenly, a herd of youkai that had been captured the previous night by some [enterprising fan] sadistic person and fed aphrodisiacs appeared out of nowhere. "GENJYO SANZO!" they screamed with one voice.
Sanzo looked upon them with unveiled contempt, boredom visible in his purple eyes. "So, hand over the Maten Sutra again, is it?" he said in the flat tones of one who was experiencing the same old, same old. The youkai were even more unorganized than usual; this was pathetic.
"No," one said. "We want to **** your **** and ********-" And here the author got tired of writing all the asterisks. The youkai used increasingly pornographic terms to describe the common fantasy, involving one blond monk and a bunch of other things.
All the hidden yaoi fangirls (the non-yaoi fangirls were busy scouting the nearby town looking for good females to pair the ikkou up) were listening with rapt attention, pens frantically scribbling on notepads to remember all that was said. Gojyo, some distance away, ended up hearing the youkai because of the volume: it was too much even for him. He ran away, hands over his ears, head spinning.
The monk, however, was slightly confused as to the sudden change of youkai behaviour, slightly relieved at being granted a respite from the constant attacks; but most of all, utterly bored at having to stand still and listen to all of it, owing to The Unwritten But Still Etched In Stone Laws Of Anime. Deciding to make some profitable use of time, he pulled his cell-phone out from his robe.
"No, I'm not interested in archery. No, I don't need to hear about the new Gun Registry Laws. Yes, I want a machine gun. No, I don't need to buy in bulk; one should be sufficient. No, IT DOES NOT NEED COLOUR DECOS! Yes, airlift delivery would be nice."
The lot of them stayed in the same position for days; the youkai taking turns shouting out NC-17 rated things, Sanzo going through enough cigarettes to fill up the entire stratosphere of Saturn, the yaoi fangirls - having run out of space on their notepads - writing on their arms. Finally a helicopter appeared overhead. Nobody noticed but Sanzo. "Finally," he exhaled.
A box was dropped down; he opened it, and extracted a gleaming-new machine gun, with ammo. When the youkai who was currently speaking paused for breath, Sanzo aimed the machine gun.
-break because the author doesn't know how machine guns work-
After the split-second break, and it was no longer than that, all the youkai in sight were dead. The yaoi fangirls collapsed, as one, as if they were dead; all their fandom hopes having gone up in smoke. Sanzo simply scanned his surroundings, stepped on his cigarette, and walked back to the inn.