My Big Fat Madoka Wedding – Chapter Four
It was now just two days before the wedding. Kyoko sat on a couch, bored watching TV. She was the only resident in her entire fort, so when there were no guests, it was very dull. Nothing really was on the TV this afternoon, and it was too early to go to bed. It’s too bad Kyoko couldn’t make it to any of the bridesmaid activities with Sayaka and Kyosuke and all the others; the hijinks that were taking place out there were probably baffling yet hilarious. The fat girl probably had all the best lines though, so Kyoko would have been severely outshined.
Silence of the Lambs was the movie on her small television screen currently. Right now it was at that hilarious part with the girl and the guy saying the cooky stuff about the lotion and hose and all that jazz. She burst out laughing. Oh, what a comedic genius the writer of this movie was. But… Kyoko had seen it a million times, so she flipped the channel, hoping to find something new instead.
Oh, look, it was… Hannibal. That new show. Ugh, it sucked. What about the hunky Anthony Hopkins? Nope, nowhere to be seen. Just a dorky way-too-serious show that completely destroys the humor of the original. Like the Teen Wolf show. Just… No. Don’t ever let Kyoko get started on these types of shows. She can go on for pages about them. Oh wait, she already was getting started on them.
Luckily for the entire reading audience, another figure appeared in the room, almost out of nowhere. Just like Kyubey would… Except… OH NO! IT WAS- Yeah it was Kyubey. Seriously, who did you even expect?
“Why, Kyubey?” Kyoko asked. “I’m just trying to suppress my emotions by watching mundane visual entertainment… Barging in like this is way past lame.”
Kyubey blinked. That was rare. “Can a decent incubator not just drop by to say hello to one of his magical girl employees without being called out on it?”
“No, because you totally have an ulterior motive.”
“Hmm…” Kyubey paced a little before turning back to face her. “Not really. I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were getting along. I haven’t spoken to you since–”
“Since the incident, yes I know. I’m doing fine here in Mexico, thank you very much. I like having a whole big fort to myself, nobody to bother me because the nearest settlement is eleven miles away…”
“Well, that’s all good, but there is something I would like to ask.”
Kyoko rolled her eyes. “Of course there is.”
“Oh no, it’s a simple question.”
“Then ask it already.”
The little demon cat stared intently into her eyes now. “Do you really think Homura’s plan is going to work?”
“Her vagueness, the ridiculousness of her scheme… It’s just far-fetched enough that it could hypothetically work, but you know you have some serious doubts about it. Which is certainly reasonable.”
“Well yeah, Homura isn’t exactly the most forthcoming person in the world. Actually, she might be the least forthcoming person in the world. Let me look that up.” Kyoko pulled out her smartphone and googled it. “Looks like number one’s still Gendo Ikari. But she’s in the top five, okay. I still trust her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Listen, Kyoko,” Kyubey blinked again. Now he turned around and stared out the window which provided a scenic view of miles of barren desert. His reflection still stared at her. “I’m here to convince you to abandon this foolish plan, for your own sake and the sake of everyone else.”
“Sake? I’m not legally allowed to drink, Kyubey. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“It’s always about food with you, girl, isn’t it?”
“That was a drink I was talking about, not food.”
Kyubey ignored her smartassyness, and blinked again. “One day you’re going to grow up to be a beautiful witch and the energy you will provide to the universe will be very helpful. That day you will understand why Homura’s wedding can’t happen.”
“You know I’m not going to listen to you, despite any amount of truth you are giving me. Why bother?”
“Because this is the approximate midpoint of the plot, and you have to be reaffirmed of the main conflict as I do a “Last Temptation” thing since you are the protagonist of the story.”
“Wait, I’m the protagonist????”
“More or less. The point of view character, at least. If I did this to anyone else the readers wouldn’t be able to see it solely on the basis of you not being there.”
“What if I was there?”
“Then I couldn’t do the “Last Temptation” thing! It doesn’t work that way, Ms. Sakura.”
“So.. This is the midpoint of the plot, huh. Does that mean there’s going to be seven chapters?”
“So next chapter is the converging of all the subplots so that its conclusion can play into the climax, aka Chapter 6, which will be the final wrap-up of all the steamy romance and hard boiled action you’d expect from this series, and will probably have a really cool fight scene. Then it’s all over in Chapter 7 and there’s a happy ending that makes us all laugh.”
“Yep, unless there’s a dramatic twist during Chapter 6 that alters our perspective on the whole story and makes what we thought was the climax actually merely the 2/3 point. What a surprise that would be.”
“Oh thanks for the spoilers. Now I’m triggered.”
“Sorry, I’ll tag it next time. #spoilers”
“Snape killed Dumbledore. #spoilers”
“Dammit Kyubey I was only on Goblet of Fire.”
“Kyoko, it’s not even funny to make these kinds of jokes anymore. The movie series ended over two years ago, so nobody even has an excuse for not finishing anymore.”
“You still triggered me.”
Kyubey blinked. It wasn’t very rare anymore, apparently. “I tagged it, though.”
“Go away, cat ferret monster.” And so he did. Kyoko looked back at the TV and saw Hannibal Lecter eating some guy’s brain. Hahahahaha, oh Hannibal. For some reason, she really craved chicken now.
My Big Fat Madoka Wedding – Chapter Five
Sayaka spun the bottle with a power unheard of in a game this relaxed. It whipped around like a helicopter blade, singeing the carpet and blowing wind in Kyoko’s face. Why, if she weren’t so happy eating all these Doritos™, she would be mighty irked at Sayaka here… She still threw a chip at her face for good measure.
“Ow, why even,” Sayaka groaned. “There’s no rules against spinning the bottle really hard.”
“I don’t care.” She threw another chip and Sayaka punched her arm. They looked back at the bottle as it slowed and slowed and slowed, landing right on Homura. Her expression remained unchanged. Kind of like Kyubey…….
“So it’s me, huh,” Homura said. “What a surprise.” There’s no way she didn’t use her time powers to manipulate the bottle.
“So… truth or dare!!!!!” Sayaka shouted, so loudly that it burst Kyoko’s eardrums. Figuratively, of course. If her eardrums really did burst, you wouldn’t be able to know what was being said, so it’s a good thing that….. oh, that’s what that ringing sound was. It cleared a few moments later, just after Homura revealed her saucy secrets.
“Spin it!” Madoka cheered this time. Homura met her eyes, stared for one moment, put her hand on the bottle, and turned it clockwise slightly. It now pointed straight at Madoka. The pink-headed girl looked at her fiance with perplexity.
“Um sweetie, that’s not… how it… works.”
Homura ignored her statement. “Do you love me?” she asked.
Madoka’s face went pale. “Ah…ih….uh….eh…”
“Oh. You forgot oh.”
“I wasn’t reciting my vowels!” Madoka shrieked. Tears began streaming down her face, which while now dripping with saltwater had at least gained its color back. Kyoko always tried to be optimistic. “Homura, why do you have to ask questions like this!”
“I…I just wanted to know.” That emotionless look on her face APPEARED to be kept, but Kyoko could tell there was a subtle difference from her usual self. Madoka noticed it too, as she tried to stop crying a little (to no avail, because if we know anything about Sheriff Kaname it’s that she is the Mistress of Crying).
“It’s just… That’s the thing I’ve been asking myself all these sleepless nights, scared to death about my own future, about getting married and spending the rest of my life with you. It’s a big decision! I know it’s important, but… but…” she buried her head in her knees.
“I understand.” Homura regained her composureless composure. (De-gained?) There was a beat panel, not even in the appropriate spot. “Spin the bottle Madoka. That is what you’re supposed to do now.” She looked at Madoka, who was quietly sobbing to herself, then picked up the bottle and stood it upright. “I apologize.” She stood up herself, bowed, and walked out the door. A few seconds later, Madoka realized she was going and did the same, leaving a tangible silence in the room.
“Shit just got real,” Sayaka murmured.
“You’re paying for new carpet, y’know,” Kyoko told her as she eyed the scorching hole made from her bottle spin.
“Dang, my heart was pounding from all the tension in this scene,” Kyosuke said, making Kyoko realize there was a fifth person at the party. However Sayaka didn’t bat an eyelash.
“C’mon, Kyosuke,” she said. “Let’s go and make out or something.” They left, presumably to go make out or something, and Kyoko was again alone in her fort. She flipped on the TV and took another handful of Doritos™. The Walking Dead was on; now THAT was a good show. Pffffft….. Three guys just got shot! And now THEY’RE zombies! Then the slow stuff started. Kyoko passed out within eight minutes.
My Big Fat Madoka Wedding – Chapter Six – Chapter One
My name is Kyoko Sakura, and for the past year, I’ve been having the same dream every single night. In my sleep, I work as a waitress or something, I guess in some otaku restaurant because sometimes I’m a French maid and other times a catgirl and sometimes I’m cosplaying as Chun-Li or Morrigan or someone like that. It’s really weird and whatever anime equivalent to Freud there is would have a field day with me. You’d think I’d just have food dreams, but nope, I have these oddities.
So I go around in my cute dress, acting like a total ditz for the 30-year old men pretending to eat really slowly as they stare soullessly at me. It’s so creepy, but at least they tip well. Who am I kidding Japanese people don’t tip. This goes on for a long while though. At least until….He appears.
“Hey girl.” It’s this middle aged fat dude, complete with unwashed hair, a shirt a size too small, and a body pillow perpetually in his arms. He shows up every single night without fail, and unlike all the other boys, he wants my number (rather than just looking at me), so he can call me (maybe). To put it quite simply, I’m not as pleased at my situation at moments such as these due to this man’s making me uncomfortable in various ways such as the example I previously stated, and it does not improve my dreams by any significant amount, in fact doing the opposite.
“Yo,” I always say, both in an attempt to show off my steaming hot swagger and to get him to not respond out of embarrassment for trying to interact with someone of such a high caliber of swagger compared to his own. Doesn’t work.
“Please me greatly, my loli lovely,” he mumbles like a drunk commenter on Danbooru at 3 AM.
“Um no.” I throw food at him until he goes away. And then I wake up. Like I said, I don’t understand this dream in the slightest, but it happens every night, so it’s gotta be relevant somehow, right? This can’t be just a parody for the sake of it. I mean really, come on. It’s important. Surely. Trust me.
Mmm… The farmer’s market had a special aroma. It smelled of dirt and mulch and all the good stuff from back in the good old days on the prairie. It was a granola girl’s grandest goal, to go here. Shopping for all the freshest deals and freshest food… Speaking of crunchy things, Kyoko craved some granola bars. She wandered around the market, for a while, but there was nary a stick of grainy goodness to be found. This sucks, she thought, ready to end her own life at the expense of a lack of food. Not really.
This whole trip Kyoko had only stolen a dozen or so fruit. Was she going soft in her old age? (No, because she was like fourteen.) Maybe her stealing senses were weakened due to her crippling love.. for… Anyway, it didn’t seem that there were any granola bars, which was totally lame. At least this farmer’s market was a good place to buy Madoka and Homura a last-minute wedding gift. Or it wasn’t, but that wasn’t going to stop her from doing it anyway.
Madoka already had a kickin’ sombrero, so the hat stand was out of the question, though that red one was awfully cute..– No Kyoko, think about the presents, not yourself! Hm. Would she look good in a poncho? Okay, nobody looks good in a poncho. There were a couple taco stands; no gifts to buy there. Wow, Mexico was just filled to the brim with nothing but stereotypes, or something. Kyoko wondered why. She then passed a sketchy watch vendor. She noted the gigantic clock necklace up for sale, and the dark skin of said vendor. Ah, so that’s what he’s doing nowadays.
The more and more she looked through this farmer’s market, the more and more it seemed to turn into a flea market. Kyoko chalked it up to the author’s lack of creativity. I mean, why can’t I just buy them some fresh food?? She thought, though this thought was directed towards the author himself. It’s because you’d steal it all at the wedding, Kyoko. Yeah, you’re probably right, she thought in reply.
Finally, Kyoko came upon a simple stand displaying a few jars of honey shaped like bears. Hmm, honey sounded good. Good like eatin’ good. In fact– Good, like stealin’ good. Nobody was there at the stand, so nobody would miss it. She swiped the bear and turned around, poised to make her waltz away–
“MARISA STOLE THE PRECIOUS THING!” An orange blur whizzed by and karate-chopped the bear from Kyoko’s hands. The blur was gone before the bear even hit the ground. What the flip? She glanced around, but nobody was there. Still somewhat afraid of whatever the crap that was, she stood in place for a moment, but nobody ever showed up. Kyoko shrugged and bent over to pick the bear up off the dirt. “Never waste food~” Kyoko sang to herself. “Or Sakura’ll murder your ass!~” It was a good song. She wrote it herself, did you know that?
As soon as her fingers touched the fallen honey, she heard a “HIYA!” and another karate chop hit her arm. Ouch! What was that all about? She was just gonna put it back! (The previous statement is a gross fabrication of the truth.) Now Kyoko had to get revenge. Using her super-fast magical girl reflexes, the next time the blur appeared, she made a grab for it. She caught its skinny little hand and slammed it onto the ground. Then she flung it into the honey stand with a mighty crash. The whole thing tumbled apart, and bears of honey rolled all over the surrounding grass and dirt. This triumph deserved an awesome fist-pump. Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.
As the dust settled from the stand falling apart, Kyoko discovered just who her foe actually was– the orange blur belong to none other than Don Patch, everyone’s favorite sun dude!
His eyes were still in a humorous spinning spiral, but he was still able to murmur something. “No Marisa…Not the… No steal… You can’t do…” He abruptly came into full consciousness (reminiscent of Sayaka, for some reason) and hopped onto his feet, posing in a defensive formation.
“Relax, bub,” Kyoko said in her best Hugh Jackman impersonation. “I’m not Marisa. Though at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up and this became a Beyond Nova Touhou crossover.”
“No, you are!” he retorted. “Marisa steals things, and you steal things. Therefore you are Marisa!” His logic was infallible.
“Okay, I call foul. This is the first chapter I have stolen anything in either of these damned fan fictions. That does not make me a kleptomaniac. Just a jerk.”
“Hmm…” Don Patch contemplated for a moment. “It’s almost as if one of your primary character traits was forgotten and only now brought up because it’s convenient for plot and jokes…”
“Yeah,” she said. A citrus fruit appeared out of thin air and fell into her hand. She held it out to him. “Orange you convinced now?”
“No… No I understand! You’re actually Marisa in disguise!!” he lunged at her, but she side-stepped and he flew into the booth behind him, wrecking all the Vividred Operation merchandise on display. Good riddance.
As he got up and staggered back over, he mumbled, “I guessyouaren’t Marisa sorry…” He was still in a daze from the first crash, so this next one only added to what was probably a severe concussion. “Just uh takeallmystuff thenIguess…”
“Ah man I can’t do that now,” Kyoko told him. “I can’t friggin’ steal from THE Don Patch!”
“Aww, how flattering,” he said, now seemingly completely fine. Maybe compliments from magical girls were a secret power that could heal people… Kyoko took note of this, so she could remember to test it later.
“And I’m really sorry about the shack,” she said. She thought the orange blur was like, Aquaman or someone. Though Aquaman probably only has super speed in the water. Unless… unless he’s so fast underwater that he can use viscosity to carry the water with him onto the land so that the land acts as the same medium as water to him! #waterbasedphysicsjokes
“S’okay, sister. I can rebuild it faster than Shinji can–”
“Don’t finish that.” This fic was strictly KA-Rated, and Kyoko wouldn’t stand for its rating to be any damn higher than that. (This statement is an untruth of great proportions.)
“Don’t have to.” Wow, he already finished fixing the whole stand. What an accurate comparison after all. “Now, what would’ja like to buy?”
“Which kind?” Don patch gestured his hand over the rows and rows of this admittedly larger-than-expected assortment of different bears of honey. They came in all sorts of sizes, and more brands than Kyoko thought possible. She didn’t even know there were that many beekeepers in Mexico, let alone honey distributors.
“What’s… the difference in all these brands?” she asked.
“No difference. It’s all just honey.”
“Then how much are they?”
Don Patch gave a Tommy Lee Jones-style implied facepalm. “Sister, I’m asking you what size you want. We got cubs, and we got mama bears, and we got papa bears, and we even got grizzly bears for all you ultra-savers out there.”
“How much is in… a mama bear?”
“1.37 bears,” he answered simply.
“The bear is the SI unit of measurement for honey. It follows the same prefix patterns as all other measurements, but nobody would buy anything like a millibear or kilobear of honey, so marketers just make their own silly terms up to confuse customers into buying worse deals.” At least he was honest.
“Uh… What about a decabear?”
“I… Well then.” Don Patch reached under the stand and opened a secret compartment, pulling out the biggest friggin’ bear of honey in the world. (Once again, the previous statement is factually inaccurate; the biggest bear of honey in the world is actually six megabears large, made in New Brunswick in 1999. It beat the previous world record-holder by a whopping 6700 hectobears.)
“Here you go. It’s my only one. It’s a secret to everybody, except for you now.” Wait. This was an adequate wedding gift, Kyoko realized. Score. “That’ll be fifty-two dollars, please.”
“You mean pesos, right? Fifty-two pesos?”
“Nope. This is a decabear of honey, sister. Shit’s like gold. Pay up!”
“But I don’t have any US Dollars. We live in Mexico, Don Patch.” Suddenly his name made sense in the context of the setting, so it wasn’t just an obscure anime reference anymore. “You’re lucky I’ve lived here long enough to even have pesos; if you tried this on any of the other magical girls, they’d probably hand you yen notes.”
“Fine fine,” Don Patch grumbled, arms crossed. “Just give me your stupid pesos.” Kyoko handed over the money, but she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about this exchange for some reason. No idea why, though.
“Arigatou,” Kyoko bowed and took the gigantic bear. She could barely hold it in her hands, it was so huge. Luckily she was a magical girl and thus has super augmented strength powers or whatever. Hmm… This bear actually had a pretty cute design. Looked almost like a tiny person. She thought for a moment and decided. She would name it… Mini-her. Nah, just kidding. What a terribly outdated reference that would have been. Good thing she didn’t make it.
“Come again,” he said. “Or not, I don’t care.” As she began to walk away, a sudden thought popped into her mind like an anorexic teen giving birth.
“Wait. Are you gonna be at the Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo anime’s Tenth Anniversary Cast Reunion in November?”
“Of course I am. That’s the only kind of gig I can get anymore,” Don Patch said in the disgruntled tone of a washed-up Star Trek actor. His eyes narrowed and he smirked. “Are you?”
“Crap, how did you even–”
“I knew you seemed familiar. Well, thanks for stopping by. See you soon.”
Kyoko hurried away. She was so glad nobody else was around. Whew, that was a close one. Now to get this bear to the wedding!
My Big Fat Madoka Wedding – Chapter Six – Chapter Two
WEDDING DAY – T-MINUS 4:13
What serenity there was in this small ocean pond. Time was but the stream Kyoko was going a-fishing in. She drank at it; but while she drank she could see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it was. Its thin current slid away, but eternity remained. Yes, Kyoko loved the transient peace that was one moment in her life, enough to savor but not to satiate… NOT!
Damn it was boring looking at this pond. As hard as she tried to discover some sort of spirituality to nature and all that, Kyoko found absolutely nothing of value. Right now she was just using it to kill an hour or so before she headed to the wedding.
After she left the flea market farmer’s market, she stashed the decabear honey container in her car (okay, not exactly HER car– she stole it– but it’s hers now) and then went to pick up her dress from the…. dress store? Wherever girls usually pick up fancy dresses that they rent. (Do girls even rent clothes or is that just guys with their tuxedos? Kyoko had no idea, though due in no part to her OWN ignorance… cough.) She almost, ALMOST got a stylin’ tux. However, right at the last second she came to her senses and switched it for a more feminine attire. Didn’t want to look like too much of a lesbian after all, or at least more than she already was. Which was a lot. Come to think of it her dress was full plaid. Yeah, that suit would have been way snazzier. Should have gone with that.
There were a few ducks at the pond today. Most of them were minding their own business, waddling around the place and quacking incessantly. A few of them were huddled around Kyoko, hoping for food. Little did they know she didn’t share food, not since Sayaka refused that apple that one time and broke her foodheart forever. Two ducks were chasing each other around for some reason. Not for some food-related reason, since there was none, and apparently not a girl stealing reason. She had no idea. It was just super freky ok?
She then spotted a mother duck and her tiny little chick. And when she said tiny, she meant smaller than a single peep. The candy peep. That thing had to have been a runt, and a pygmy one at that. And yet, the little guy followed his mom wherever she went. If she swam, he swam. If she ate, he would wait patiently for leftovers. When she went to sleep, it was bedtime for him too. Kyoko first thought this meant that the chick was just that courageous, but she realized she had it backwards; it was actually the mother doing the following. She swam to teach him how. She gave her son food because otherwise the other ducks would steal it all from him. She slept when he was tired to be close to him and protect him.
This reminded Kyoko of Homura. She was the one who always acted as the leader, who always knew what was really going on. There was no telling how many times she had to reset the timeline to save them all… Well, maybe not all of them. More like just Madoka. But it seemed Homura always needed Sayaka and her to fight these dangerous battles that she could not win alone. Like when they took down Walpurgisnacht? There’s no way they would have accomplished that if they all five didn’t work together. Wait a minute—five? Kyoko counted on her fingers. One, two three, four… Okay, only four. She was just getting ahead of herself was all.
While Kyoko reminisced, she decided to go ahead and stop suppressing her memories of the incident that got her banished to Mexico. It all happened when– Wait. Why Mexico of all places, anyway? Usually banishment meant the offenders were sent to remote, desolate corners of the globe like Tibet or Siberia or the Gobi Desert or Canada, but Mexico was a decently industrialized country. Kyoko could take a bus and get as far north as the US, or as far south as Guatemala, all by day’s end. She was miles away from the city, but it was by no means isolated. Something was awry. Something… Oh no. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together in Kyoko’s mind. All the incredibly unsubtle foreshadowing became clear. Kyoko sprinted and slided into her car almost exactly like her idol Luke Duke would have done (Goodnight, Sweet Prince 1951-2012) and took off, running over a few of the ducks she was watching in the process. Her foot stamped onto the gas pedal and she raced for Madoka and Homura’s wedding. She only hoped that it would not be too late.