Okay, so –
When I was fifteen or so, before G. I. Joe: Rise of Cobra came out, I was having fun with the whole G. I. Joe/SigmaSix thing and decided to write a piece of fanfiction featuring Thomas Arashikage (later to be known as StormShadow) and Ian (later to become Snake Eyes). If you don’t know the backstory, here’s the short of it – the two ninjas were part of the Joe team and were best friends for years, until Cobra captured Storm Shadow and brainwashed him. It’s all very cartoonish, but hey, I wanted to write fanfiction. So I did.
And it became several pieces of fanfiction; short chapters featuring the most comedic duo I’ve ever written. I thought you might enjoy reading the first chapter – they’re super-short – and if you want the next few (I wrote like… eight, I think?) I’ll post them in intervals. =)
So here you have, Two is a Crowd
Chapter One: Yeah, Right
POV: Snake Eyes
Thomas and I stared at the papers sitting on the table in front of us. They were the rental contract for the apartments we had chosen… there was just one problem.
Neither of us had enough money for them. And we both knew there was only one solution.
“No,” said Thomas, shaking his head, “No way, no how.”
“Right,” I agreed firmly.
“We’ll just have to live in an alley.”
We both continued to stare at the pages, then we looked at each other. Then back at the pages. Then back at each other. With a sigh, I picked up the pen and signed.
Thomas and Snake Eyes were about to share an apartment.
“This is so not going to work,” said Thomas, shaking his head. He pushed his black hair away from his forehead and surveyed the now-furnished apartment. It was small, but cozy and clean.
It was the ‘small’ that had us worried. Neither of us are big cleaner-uppers. In fact, Thomas is a downright slob.
Not that I’m much better.
“I think you’re right,” I agreed.
“Well, there’s not much we can do, anyway,” Thomas sighed. He flopped down onto the couch as I began to inspect the apartment.
For the fourth time.
“One bathroom,” I noted.
“You pointed that out the first time,” said Thomas, opening a Kendo magazine.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, “I just can’t get over it.”
“We’ll never survive,” my brother said gloomily.
“Two bedrooms, at least,” I said, trying to look on the optimistic side.
“Two bedrooms that are actually closets made to look like bedrooms in order to fool people,” Thomas said.
I looked doubtfully into the bedroom I had chosen. It was about the size of a Gestappo cell. I sighed and walked down the built-for-a-ruler-not-a-person-sized hallway and walked into the kitchen.
“It has an island,” I called.
“Good. We can set toothpicks on it while we cook.”
“You’re a pessimist.”
“This apartment was designed for them.”
“It was designed for one person,” I said.
“As I said. It was designed for pessimists. Who’s making dinner?”
“You are,” I said, peering into the Fridge. It was about as big as a jewelry box.
“We’ll get along fine here,” I said, “I think we can manage.”