DISCLAIMER - I don't own Digimon - not even Sora, no matter how much I might want to.

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...AND WHAT’S UP WITH *YOU* GUYS, TOO?

By Chris McFeely

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We start in a darkened studio. On stage, there’s one chair, sitting on the left, while on the right, there are
five normal-sized chairs (with four tall silhouettes sitting in them, and one slightly smaller one), two small
chairs (we can’t see anyone sitting in them because they’re so small) and two bleeping massive silhouettes
sitting on the floor next to those. The spotlights hit the first chair, revealing... me! Chris! Yes, again!

Chris: Hello again. In this sequel to my previous fic, “What’s Wrong With You People?”, I’m not trying to
express any kind of views whatsoever - I’m just being silly. You might want to read that fic before you get
stuck in here, as you might not get all of the ‘jokes.’ Now, regardless of what you may be thinking, I regret
to tell you that this *isn’t* an interview with the DigiDestined from 02 - living in Ireland, I have yet to see
that series, so I can’t write about them that well. So, instead, this time around, I’m talking with the great
Digimon villains of 01!

The lights go up! Sitting in the five normal seats are Devimon, Etemon, Myotismon, Piedmon and
Puppetmon (Puppetmon being the smaller guy), while in the small seats are DemiDevimon and Datamon.
The two massive silhouettes are MetalSeadramon and Machinedramon.

Chris: Whoo, I’m gonna get sick of typing “mon” by the time I’m done here... welcome to the show, guys.

Devimon: Greetings, mortal.

Etemon: Hey, wusshappnin’?

Myotismon: The pleasure is all yours.

Piedmon: Likewise.

Puppetmon: *jumps up and down in his seat* Boring!

DemiDevimon: Hey, howaya, nice ta see ya.

Datamon: This is not a more intellectual means of combating boredom, you know.

MetalSeadramon: Graagh.

Machinedramon: *silent*

Chris: Gah, that was a round of warm welcomes, anyway... well, I’m hardly going to talk to you guys about
relationships, so lets get started on talking about general things.

Chris flips through the sheets on his clipboard.

Chris: Hrmn, here’s an interesting question, to get the ball rolling. Devimon - what’s the freakin’ deal with
your arms?

Devimon: *lifts his arms and looks at them* What? What are you talking about? I don’t see anything wrong
with them.

Chris: How about the fact that they’re nearly as long as your body?

Devimon: Oh... that. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.

Chris: Riiiight.

Devimon: Well, it happened a long time ago... when I was just a little Digi-kid... I was bullied at school, oh,
so very much. *sniff* There was this one time, when the school bully, Bubba, and his friends, grabbed me,
and just started pulling on my arms and legs. And I screamed and I cried but they wouldn’t let go... they...
wouldn’t... let... GO!!

Devimon breaks down into tears and curls up into the fetal position.

Chris: Geez, man, you know you’re ruining your image...

Devimon: *through sobs* All the kids laughed at me then... they called me “Big Devi Long Arms,” they
did... the teasing... the taunting... oh, dear God, the taunting... it was then that I decided I’d show them...
yes, I’d show them... I’d show them all!!

Devimon stops crying abruptly and starts cackling maniacally.

Chris: Ye-eah. *shifts uneasily in his seat* Could you, like, not do that?

Devimon: *stops laughing* Sorry.

Chris: S’okay.

Devimon: S’awright.

Chris: Well, that was fascinating, anyway... moving the hell right along... Etemon.

Etemon: Uh-huh-huh?

Chris: What’s with the Elvis thing?

Etemon: Lemme tell y’all something, baby - Elvis stole mah act.

Chris: Oh, okay... so, Elvis Presley stole your act... despite having died before the Internet, and thusly, the
DigiWorld, and your good simian self, ever existed?

Etemon: Uh... yeah.

Chris: Ho-kay. Why is it that you look more like a guy in a monkey suit than a real monkey?

Etemon: Gotta give the fans somethin’ to look at, baby.

Etemon strikes a pose.

Chris: That’s not answering my question.

Etemon: Don’ make me hurt you, boy.

Chris: Just so long as you don’t sing.

Etemon: Sing? Why’n, that’s a great idea! Ah’m-a gonna do me a song for everyone readin’ this-a here fic!

Chris: NOOOO! SECURITY!!

Leomon, Meramon, Centarumon and Andromon run in and pile top of Etemon, dragging him off-stage.

Etemon: Y’all can’t do this to me! Ah’m the king, baby!

There’s *smack* noise and everything is silent.

Chris: Phew. That could have gotten nasty.

Chris flips through his sheets again.

Chris: Dark Network of Etemon... blah, blah, blah... Prisoner of the Pyramid... Ah! Next up is Datamon.

Datamon: What is it that you would wish to ask me, meat?

Chris: Oh, nothing.

Datamon: What?

Chris: Let’s face it, Datey, you’re strictly small potatoes compared to these other guys. What’d you get?
Two episodes, that’s what you got.

Datamon: Then why in the name of hell did you write me into this fic, fool?

Chris: So I could do... THIS!

Chris jumps out of his seat and grabs Datamon by one of his stupid gangly arms.

Datamon: What?! What are you-!

Chris yanks Datamon out of his seat and slams him into the ground, then begins spinning him around and
smashing him into things like he was a set of nunchuks.

Chris: THAT *smash* IS *smash* FOR *smash* KIDNAPPING *smash* MY *smash* SORA!!

Chris begins doing that cool flipping-over-the-shoulder-nunchuk-thing with Datamon, then hurls him
off-stage, out a door that Leomon is holding open. There’s a satisfying crash.

Chris: My, that felt good.

Sora walks in from off-stage, and smacks Chris around the head.

Chris: OW! GODAMMIT! I’m getting sick of this! Dammit, I said it before - I’m supposed to be writing
this thing, and it’s about time that I started making you all do what I *want*!!

Sora walks off as Chris pulls out a computer keyboard, and begins typing frantically, modifying the fic.

Sora spins on her heel, and sprint back onstage, vaulting over the back of Chris’s chair and landing in his lap.
Chris sets the keyboard down.

Chris: It’s good to be the king.

Sora grabs Chris around the head and immediately starts making out with him. This continues for the next
five minutes, as the villains just sit around, not quite knowing where to look. DemiDevimon stares on,
grinning, as Myotismon taps his foot.

Myotismon: Excuse me...?

Sora: Mmmmmm....

Chris: Mmmmmm-hmnn.....

Myotismon: ExCUSE me...?

Chris: Mmmmm-hmnn-mmm....

Sora: Mmmmmm-hmn....

Myotismon: EXCU- Oh, forget it. CRIMSON LIGHTNING!!

Myotismon’s Crimson Lighting lashes out, knocking the chair away from under Chris. He hits the ground,
and Sora lands on top of him.

Chris: Aw, come on, Sora, not here... *realises what’s happened* ...oh... hey! What’s the big idea?

Myotismon: Can we please get *on* with this?

Chris: *grumbles* Fine, fine...

Chris retrieves his seat.

Chris: We can... finish... later, Sora. *grin*

Sora giggles girlishly (completely unlike her), and walks off. When she gets about ten feet away from Chris,
she freezes in her tracks, and realises what just happened. She starts coughing, spitting, clawing at her
throat, and making barfing noises as she staggers off.

Chris: *watches her go* Eh, what are ya gonna do...

DemiDevimon: Aw, whatcha hafta go an’ do that fer, boss? It was just gettin’ good!

Chris: Pervert.

DemiDevimon: Look who’s talkin’.

Chris: Bring it on, bat boy.

DemiDevimon: DEMI DART!!

Chris snatches the hypodermic needle that DemiDevimon throws out of the air.

Chris: What the *hell* kind of attack is this, anyway? You throw a needle - badly, I might add - that’s twice
your size at someone, and hell, all it did was make Biyomon kind woozy. Great offensive manoeuvre, there.

DemiDevimon: ...shut up.

Chris: Anyway, Myotismon, here’s a question for you - how do you respond to the allegation that you are
gay, and that you’re totally working that whole homoerotic thing that vampires have going for them?

Myotismon: Wha-at?! Who DARES to say that?!

Chris gestures into the camera.

Chris: The viewers have their opinions.

Myotismon leaps up and charges at the camera.

Myotismon: GRIZZLY WING!

The swarm of bats fly out and engulf the camera. There’s some screaming as we switch to another camera
angle.

Chris: Ah, Jesus, no! That’s a cameraman! A CAMERAMAN!!

Myotismon: ...oops.

Chris: Ew... God, people shouldn’t have to see that... ah! I’m pretty sure that’s not supposed to look like
that... can we get a replacement camera guy in here? And some medic? Oh, and maybe a cappuccino...

The camera angle switches back to it’s original view, as a hand reaches in a wipes a little blood of the lens.

Chris: That’s better. Now, Myotismon, seriously, now do you react to these allegations?

Myotismon: Me? Gay? That’s ludicrous.

Myotismon pulls out a compact and reapplies his lipstick.

Chris: ...right. Piedmon? The same things have been said about you...

Piedmon isn’t paying attention, as he’s asking Myotismon if he can borrow his compact when he’s done with
it.

Chris: Oy...

Piedmon looks up from putting his own lipstick on.

Piedmon: It’s make-up, you fool.

Chris: Yes, I can see that, that’s what worries me.

Piedmon: No, no - CLOWN make-up! Look at me! I’m an evil clown!

Chris: Ain’t nothin’ scarier than an evil clown.

Piedmon: Damn right.

Chris: Respec’.

Piedmon and Myotismon start doing each other’s hair.

Chris: Moving RIGHT along... Puppetmon.

Puppetmon: Finally! I didn’t think ya were ever gonna get to me!

Chris: What’d you do if I told you that you really just act like a dumb little kid all time, your games suck,
and you don’t have any friends?

Puppetmon: Grrr! I’d do... THIS!

Puppetmon’s hand shoots to his thigh, and then his arm extends out. His hand is clenched, but empty.

Puppetmon: What the-?! Where in the hell is my gun?

Chris: Gotta love those censors. Tough luck, woodentop. Go scratch your leg.

Puppetmon: Bite me.

Chris: I would, but I wouldn’t wanna get woodrot on my teeth.

Puppetmon: Hack writer!

Chris: Psychopath.

Puppetmon: Uh... poopy-head!

Chris: Baby.

Puppetmon: I am not a baby! I’m not! I’m NOT!

Puppetmon starts crying. Devimon pats him on the back.

Devimon: There, there... I know it hurts...

Chris rolls his eyes.

Chris: MetalSeadramon, you interest me.

MetalSeadramon: Guh? Why’s dat?

Chris: Well, first, your voice.

MetalSeadramon: Duuhhh... t’anks.

Chris: That wasn’t a compliment, chuckles.

MetalSeadramon: It wasn’t?

Chris: No.

MetalSeadramon: Duuhhh... okay. T’anks.

Chris: *sigh* And second, are you so supremely powerful that you can talk all the time without moving your
mouth?

MetalSeadramon: Guhhh... naw ish guh mouf moobin.

Chris: I’ll take that indecipherable grunt as a “no”, then, shall I?

MetalSeadramon: Guh.

Chris: And, last but not least, Machinedramon. I don’t have any questions to ask you... is there anything
you’d like to talk about?

Machinedramon: *silent*

Chris: Aw, come on, big guy - say something!

Machinedramon: *silent*

Piedmon: Oh, crap... hold on...

Piedmon, who’s now got a delightful set of pigtails, thanks to Myotismon’s hairdressing skills, looks around
in back behind Machinedramon.

Piedmon: ...bugger. I knew it. Who forgot to charge his batteries before we came out?

MetalSeadramon: Duhh... it wa’n’t my turn...

Piedmon: Puppetmonnnn... did you forget to charge Machinedramon’s batteries?

Puppetmon: ...yes...

Piedmon: Haven’t we talked about this before?

Puppetmon: ...yes...

Piedmon: And what did I say I’d do if you forgot to do it again?

Puppetmon: You said you’d... t...k... ...wa...

Piedmon: I can’t *hear* you!

Puppetmon: You said you’d take away my toys!

Piedmon: Quite right!

Puppetmon: It’s not fair! You always treat me like a baby!

Piedmon: Well, maybe I’ll treat you differently when you stop acting like one!

Puppetmon starts crying again, and Devimon gives him a big hug.

Devimon: Now, now... the hurting will go away...

Chris: Good Lord... this is turning into “Touched By An Angel” ...or a devil, even...

DemiDevimon: Hey, you gonna bring that Sora chick back any time soon?

Chris: Quiet, you.

The studio has been reduced to chaos. As Devimon comforts a crying Puppetmon, Piedmon bashes
Machinedramon, trying to start him up. Myotismon admires his reflection in his compact... then realises that
since he’s a vampire, he doesn’t have a reflection, and gets rather annoyed. MetalSeadramon sits there
looking confused, while DemiDevimon pulls out Chris’s keyboard, and tries to type stuff that he wants,
though he can’t, because he’s only got huge fat toes, and can’t work the keys.

Chris: ...why me? Why can’t 02 get shown on Irish TV? Then I’d have something better to write about...

Etemon smashes in through the wall.

Etemon: Ah’m back, baby, and Ah’m ready to rock!!

Chris: For the love of God, NOOOOOOO!

Chris gets up out of his seat, and begins beating Etemon over the head with his clipboard.

Etemon: Ow! Ah’m all shook up!

Etemon staggers forward, and crashes into the camera. There’s a blast of static, and the screen goes black.

THE END!

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I hope you wanna write a review, cause I got quite a lot for the first one, and it'll make me feel insecure if the sequel doesn't get at least as many. ^_~