[Cue the SD FFVIII fic characters dancing across the screen!]

All: ^-^ "omake Omake OMAKE! WAAAIIIIII!!"

     [The camera pans back to reveal that all the SD FVIII fic characters 
are actually plushies in a UFO catcher machine at the Gold Saucer.  Yuffie is 
pounding on the side of the machine in hopes of capturing a Squall plushie.]


                        Sowing the SeeDs:

                        OMAKE THEATRE 3!!


	[In a second floor classroom Sean and Xu are seen standing in front
of a wall display.  Both are dressed casually as though today is a rest 
day.]

Xu: "Welcome to Omake Theatre, where we answer the pressing questions of the
day such as--"

Sean: "Who on earth is Quandry?"

Xu: --; "No backseat narrating."

	[Xu turned on the wall display.  The image of a well built man of over 
6 feet in stature filled most of the screen.  He had an easy smile that gave 
hint to an expressive personality.  Next to his picture scrolled a list of 
vital statistics.]

Xu: "This is Quandry."

Sean: [examining the screen] "He looks harmless enough, what's wrong with 
him?"

Xu: "Take a closer look.  As you'll notice his favorite game list is always 
changing.  The only thing that's sure about it is that Shadowrun is on top.  
After that it's a toss up between Onimusha, Omikron, Chrono Trigger, Chrono 
Cross, Wipeout, the list goes on and on.  You'll also notice that Final 
Fantasy VIII doesn't break the top 5.  It really makes you wonder about 
what kind of wackos are writing this story, doesn't it?"

Sean: [moving along lest he trigger another Xu rant about the authors] 
"He's an avid gamer.  What's so bad about that?"

Xu: "'Avid' is putting it mildly.  He doesn't finish games, he beats them 
until they seek restraining orders.  He also speaks l33t fluently.
Thankfully, he's not a regular SeeDfic author."

Sean: [puzzled] "Why an omake featuring him then?"

Xu: [sigh!] "Because inspiration struck him while he was having dinner at 
his favorite Japanese restaurant, which resulted in five 'pages' of napkin 
covered in hastily scrawled notes.  Beans, being the lazy author that she 
is, didn't get them typed up in a timely manner and so he did it.  To make 
matters worse, Beans' computer crashed and took all her data *except* this 
Spirit forsaken fic with it.  On the bright side, we're being given a pass 
on this week's omake while Beans gets her act together."

Sean: o.O "I don't know which frightens me more: what you just told me or the 
fact that you said it all in a single breath."

Xu: "So, without further ado, let's start 'Quandry no Omake'."

Sean: [reading from a script written on a napkin] "Or, 'How Quandry Cheated 
Death'."

-----

   It wasn't raining yet, but the heavy afternoon clouds were teasing the
ground with occasional drops of moisture. Quandry usually enjoyed this kind
of weather, but today its dreariness matched that of his physical condition,
and it didn't help him feel any better. Getting some rest might have helped,
though. He was miserable the night before and hadn't slept a wink. In fact,
he looked so bad the next morning that his friends nearly forced him to stay
home under their care and supervision.
   However, this would apparently be out of the question for Quandry. His
nose was completely stuffed but somehow still ran like a faucet, his throat
was so sore that it stung even to draw a breath, his head seemed to be
competing with his heart for pounding, and his stomach gurgled with
disapproval for every moment that he stood, but he still decided to go.
Quandry was a man on a mission.
   "Clow ka...do.." he managed in a trembling, raspy voice. As if acting on
the words like they were a magical key, the automatic doors of the Toys 'R
Us slid open. Quandry pushed himself away from the pillar he had been
leaning on, and a pathetic, stumbling gait propelled him over the remaining
distance to the door. A smile filled his face as the ambient music of the
store filled his ears.
   "At last, I have reached my destination," he thought. "I will finally
have the Clow Cards!"
   Wasting little time, he found his way around the shopping carts and
through the second entryway. The number of other shoppers around seemed
small for a Saturday. That would be fine, he thought, since he didn't like
crowds, and he didn't care to be drooling snot all over his hands in front
of a bunch of people anyway.
   Suddenly, a violent sneeze welled up that made him dizzy as it exploded
through his mouth and nose. His legs became weak, and he nearly fell down
from the recoil. Taking a moment to focus, he stood still with his hand over
his face, waiting until it was easier to move again.
   "Don't give up on me now," he said to his body. "The goal is near, very
near indeed! It'll only take a little more effort before we can rest. Won't
that be nice? As long as we remain upright, and our motor skills continue to
cooperate, we'll make it through this."
   Satisfied with his little pep talk to himself, he decided he was ready to
continue. Taking a confident step forward, followed by another confident
step, and then another, and another, he confidently strode down the aisle
and right into a shopper. It's true that he hadn't been paying much
attention to where he was going, but he didn't notice anyone in the aisle
before.
   "I'm sorry," Quandry said, taking a step back to restore the integrity of
the personal space he had just invaded.
   "So am I," the man replied.
   But something wasn't right. It was a deep, raucous voice that
reverberated down the aisle, and seemed to be audible from all directions
like some kind of surround-sound theater stereo. Quandry looked up to see
what type of cool toy was being used to make his voice sound so neat.
   The man before him was unnaturally tall, and was dressed in what appeared
to be many layers of tattered black cloth which hung about him like an old
robe. He wore a large hood that hid his face, and held beside him a long
sickle. The pole was slightly crooked, and the blade had a partly jagged
edge. Maybe it was serrated. It looked quite sinister all the same, Quandry
thought.
   "You shall come with me," said the man, his voice echoing as before.
   "Um, I have a question." Quandry scratched his head.
   "Very well, you may ask."
   "Why are you cos-playing in a Toys 'R Us?"
   "I'm not cos-playing. I am Death."
   "Right, of course. Have you been wearing that around town?" He pointed at
the robes.
   "I am envisioned in many forms. All mortals choose what they see."
   "It might rain, aren't you worried it'll get ruined? Good detail, I bet
it was expensive. And this thing," he said, reaching out to touch the
sickle, "it's incredible! Where'd you get--"
   "DO NOT TOUCH the sickle!" Death boomed, louder than before. He moved the
sickle away.
   "That's so cool, how do you do that to your voice? Are you using
speakers?"
   "I am not using anything. I am Death. It is the hour of your fate, and I
am come to guide you into the next world."
   In the awkward silence that followed, Quandry realized that he could no
longer hear the music that had been playing in the store.
   "Yes," said Death. "Worldly things are beginning to fade."
   "Finally!" Quandry said with relief. "I thought they'd never turn that
crap off."
   "No, it is not just the music, Quandry. It is everything. Can you even
hear yourself breathe?"
   "Of course not, I haven't BEEN breathing. Do you have any idea how
stuffed up my nose is?" He asked, cocking his head to one side. "It's like
breathing through brick."
   "So be it. Then, I shall help you understand."
   Death placed his slender, pale hand upon Quandry's shoulder. It sent a
chill to course slowly down his arm, causing each hair to stand as it went,
until finally it reached his hand and stiffened his fingers. He looked up
into the darkness within Death's hood and stared at it as he felt his entire
body become gradually colder.
   Finally he realized that he was dealing with much more than a freaky
fanboy wearing a costume in a store. He realized that he was dealing with
Death itself, or himself, and that it would put a serious damper on
accomplishing his mission. Meanwhile, the chill continued to run its course,
and it began to penetrate deep into his bones.
   This couldn't really be happening yet, could it? What about his mission?
Didn't Death realize the gravity of the situation? These and other thoughts
went through Quandry's mind as he tried to decide what to do.
   "Clow... kaado..." he said, only whispering the second word out of sheer
weakness.
   "I am sorry, little one," Death replied in his most consoling voice,
"There will be no toys where we are going."
   With a wheezy gasp for air, Quandry gathered the looks of confusion and
dismay, displaying both prominently on his face.
   "No!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "I don't have time to die. There are too
many toys to be played with!" Following that, he slapped Death's hand away
with his other arm, turned about, and marched away as forcefully as his
frail condition would allow.
   "Huh? Hey! Where are you going?" Death asked, surprised. He quickly
shuffled over to Quandry's side.
   "I'm going to buy toys," he explained, sniffing and rubbing his nose. "I
heard they even.. have... ack!" He stopped and broke into a fit of coughing.
He sniffled some more and after a moment was able to continue. "I heard they
even have a full deck of Clow cards here. ACHOOO!" He brought his hand up to
catch the sneeze.
   "You see? You can barely communicate anymore," Death explained. "Can't
you feel your sickness enveloping you?"
   "Yeah, it's getting pretty bad. Do you have a tissue?"
   "Do I have a...? That's not what I meant."
   "Agh, it's starting to run." He sniffed and put his hand to his nose.
   "Okay, okay, here."
   Death searched his robes and withdrew a handkerchief from an inner
pocket. Quandry nodded his thanks and took the tissue. He gave a noisy blow
into it, wiped a bit, and handed it back.
   "Ewww." Death held the handkerchief away from himself and eyed it
askance.
   "Thanks," Quandry said. "Hey cool, they have Ah Megami-Sama key rings."
He went to the shelves to look.
   Death gingerly placed the nasty tissue into one of his pockets, and
stared at Quandry. He was paying absolutely no attention to him. Quandry 
just went along the shelves, picking things up, looking at them, putting 
them down, and moving on. Either he had an extremely strong will to live, 
or he really was that much of an idiot. Whichever the case, neither Death, 
nor Quandry, nor anyone else had a choice in the matter. So Death followed
Quandry down the aisle.
   "Quandry, please. Stop this foolishness. You must let go of this world
and follow me to the light."
   "Are you still here?"
   "Yes, and I won't be going anywhere until you come with me."
   "Then why don't you make yourself useful and ask someone where the Gundam
models are?" he scoffed.
   "Must you people be so annoying? Why do they ALWAYS do this!?" Death
groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. "They enter this ridiculous
denial stage..."
   "Never mind, I found'em," Quandry said. His voice was muffled; Death
looked up quickly and found himself alone in the aisle.
   "Hey! I'm not finished with you!" he shouted, jogging to chase after 
Quandry.
   "AAAH-CHOOOOOO!!!"
   Death stopped suddenly as he rounded the corner and stood mistified --
with mucus and saliva. Quandry had just sneezed all over him.
   "Yilch!! What the...?"
   "Thorry," Quandry apologized stuffily. "By dose was tickleeng be, and I
didn't want to thneeze on the Gundamth."
   "That was completely disgusting," said Death, thrusting his hanky at the 
ill man. "Snot like yours will probably stain!"
   Quandry blew his nose again.
   "Throw'em in the wash, they'll be fine."
   "Uh, hello? These have to be dry cleaned."
   "Whatever." He crumpled the handkerchief and tossed it back at Death.
"Help me look for Deathscythe."
   "I got your Deathscythe right here," Death grumbled, clutching his sickle
in frustration.
   "Look at this," Quandry burst, taking a box from the shelf. "Why'd they
make Nataku look so lame in this version?"
   "Quandry."
   "Yeah?" He turned the box over and started reading the specs.
   "Quandry."
   "What?"
   "Quandry!"
   "What already!?!" He fumed, putting the box down and facing Death. *rim
shot*
   Death paused for effect before speaking.
   "It is time," he said slowly.
   "What are you talking about? They don't close until eight."
   "..."
   "It's only, like, a quarter to five."
   Death rolled his eyes and heaved a loud sigh.
   "Get a watch, weirdo..." Quandry trailed off, continuing his perusal of
the Gundam models. "Aha, there's the cool Nataku."
   He spotted the box on the top shelf of the rack and began to reach for
it. As he lifted his arms, he began to feel dizzy; his head began to throb
harder, his vision blurred slightly, and his legs became weak again. He
still couldn't quite reach the box. He tried to elevate himself onto his
toes, but a head-rush came over him that all but blacked him out. Quandry
collapsed to the floor.
   Death stood over him and looked down.
   "You see? It is impossible to avoid your fate. Everyone has his time. You
will only grow weaker and more exhausted until you are completely unable to
resist. There is no point delaying the inevitable."
   Quandry opened his eyes and stared vacantly. Then, as his vision focused,
his eyes widened, and he let out a strange yell.
   "Finally, he understands," Death thought to himself. He leaned down and
reached his hand out to him.
   "THEY HAVE HEAVYARMS CUSTOM!!!" Quandry screamed, leaping up from the
tile and shoving Death aside.
   "Oh for the love of--!!"
   "I've been looking for this forever!" He grabbed the box from the shelf
and turned it over a few times in his hands.
   "Excuse me, I heard a noise over here. Is everything alright?"
   Death and Quandry turned. A woman wearing a Toys 'R Us apron was leaning
around the corner of the aisle, staring at them quizzically.
   "Oh, hi! Where's your Card Captor stuff?" Quandry asked excitedly.
   "Um... I think they're next to the Barbies in the--"
   "THANKS!" He squawked, and zoomed off.
   Death stood, blinking, his jaw slightly agape in awe of the sheer
stupidity he had just witnessed. The woman stood too, blinking back at him.
   Wait a minute.
   "Miss?"
   "Yes?"
   "Did, uh... ahem. Did you say, um, Ba... Barbies?
   She nodded as a sweatdrop appeared on her forehead.
   "But, but... that's... in the... OH NO!!" Death broke into an urgent run
and hauled down the aisles to chase after Quandry. "Not good, not good," he
repeated, looking everywhere. As he ran, he started to hear the happy
giggling of a snot-nosed otaku nearby. He directed himself toward the sound,
rounded another corner... and quickly came to the horrific realization that
it was too late.
   Death dug his heels into the tile floor as hard as he could and screeched
to a halt. There he was, at the mouth of the dreaded "Pink Aisle," more
terrifying even than the valley of the shadow of death itself, and there
stood Quandry right in the middle of it.
   Death looked down at his feet and shuffled backward a step, finding himself
much too close to the pinkness. The pink was so prevalent that he could feel 
it thickening the air around him. The pink boxes displaying their girly
pink slogans and feminine flowery adornments stood vigil over the entry of
the aisle, stacked high and mighty in their pinkness upon the shelves. The
dolls all seemed to be staring at him, daring him to approach by even an
inch, bidding him stand well back lest they shed their putrescent pink
pigments upon him as well.
   Death shrank back even further, clutching his sickle closer to him for 
comfort. Then he remembered that there was still a job to be done, and that 
Quandry was still standing directly in the center of this pusillanimous place.
   "I've got to get him back out here!"
   Quandry looked down the aisle at him with a silly grin on his face, and
held up a pinkish box.
   "Look! They have Li from Card Captor Sakura!"
   Death quivered and turned his head.
   "It's so... PINK!" Was all he could say.
   "Yeah, but check it out! They've got Sakura in three different dresses!!"
   "Well, um..." Death began, nervously looking away in several directions,
"just grab whatever you want and come out of there. You won't be able to
take it with you anyway."
   "The key!" Quandry shouted after a gasp. "They have her key!!" He reached 
up and jumped for it a couple of times. "Crap, I can't reach it. Come help me
get this down."
   "I... What!? No. I can't. I mean... just get something else and come out
of there!"
   "I don't think so! C'mon, you have a long enough sickle. It'll reach."
   "But... pink... you don't understand..."
   Quandry dropped his shoulders in disappointment, looked at Death for a
moment, and then started marching toward him.
   "He's coming out!" Death thought. "I'll just nab him as soon as he leaves
the aisle."
   "Will you quit your whining and get over here?" With that, he stopped at
the end of the aisle, leaned forward, grabbed a handful of Death's robes,
and pulled. Death went even paler  -- which until now was thought to be
impossible -- as he panicked.
   "Let go! Stoppit! Back up off me!" Death shouted, kicking and flailing as
Quandry dragged him through the aisle. "Unhand me this instant you freak!"
   "Oh knock it off, you big baby."
   "AAAAARRRGHH!! FINE!" He screamed, pushing Quandry forcefully away. "What
do you want!?" The reverb of his ethereal voice was now rattling the shelves
as he spoke, but Quandry took no notice.
   "That one! That one!" He said, pointing excitedly at the Card Captor Key
toy.
   Death reached up with his sickle and yanked three of them onto the floor.
   "ANYTHING ELSE!?"
   "And Sakura!" He pointed at a doll.
   "Which one? NEVERMIND!!!" He swung his sickle wildly and swept the entire
row of dolls onto the floor. "And while we're at it, how about one of these!
And some of those! And that!"
    Quandry got on his knees and began to sort through the rapidly growing
pile of toys, while Death shouted and threw pink boxes at him, down the
aisle, and even into other aisles.
   "How's that!?" He screamed. "SATISFIED!?" His volume shook a few more
boxes to the floor.
   "Actually," He began, his arms full of toys, "I came here to find the
Clow Cards."
   "Ano... is everything alright?"
   It was the woman again, peeking her head around the corner like before.
   "NO everything is NOT alright," Death snapped, "Can't you see this man
needs CLOW CARDS!?"
   "Clow... oh, Clow Cards? Yeah, those are up by the entrance."
   "YOU COULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT EARLIER!?"
   "Well if you hadn't been distracting me with all that death crap I might
have... have... seen them... there... aaah-CHOOOO!" Quandry sneezed. He
sniffled some and extended his hand to request the hanky again.
   Well beyond angry, Death snatched Quandry by the wrist and pulled him
out of the aisle. He also took hold of the woman as he passed, and dragged
her along too.
   "Hey! Where are you taking me!?" She exclaimed, shocked.
   "You're coming along so I know someone will be at the check-out when he
has his stupid cards!"
   As they all arrived at to the entrance, Quandry immediately spotted the 
object of his fanatical desire. There, on a shelf, sat a thick red book 
labeled "CLOW." As he stared in awe, heavenly rays of light seemed to beam 
down and illuminate it. He could hear singing, like voices from a choir, as 
the book began to sparkle and glow.
   "Sugoi...!" Quandry breathed.
   "Oh, no you don't," said Death. "There'll be none of that." He pulled a
remote control from one of his pockets and pushed a button. The voices
stopped, and the light disappeared.
   "Aw, you're no fun anymore," Quandry said.
   The woman wriggled free of Death's grip -- quite an amazing feat,
usually -- and took the Book of the Clow from off the shelf.
   "Is this what you wanted?" She asked.
   "Hai! Hai! Hai!" He clapped softly and bounced as he said it.
   "It is? Good! Let's go!" Death grabbed each of them by their respective
collars, and carried them over to the cash register.
   Quandry opened his arms to let all of the toys he'd gathered fall into a
pile on the counter, and the woman started ringing them up.
   "Okay," she said finally, "That'll be $107.50."
   "Oh. Uh... oh. Um, say... Death, think you could spot me a fifty?"
   Death began checking through his many pockets.
   "Well, I might have left my wallet in my other-- wait, NO I will not spot
you fifty dollars!!"
   Quandry heaved a sigh.
   "Don't you have like a company credit card?"
   "Credit card? Well, no..."
   "Why not? Too low on the totem pole? It must suck to be just another
employee in such a large establishment."
   "Hey, for your information, MISTER, this is a management position."
   "And what? You don't get a budget?"
   "Hey! I... it doesn't... that's none of your business!"
   "Never mind," Quandry groaned, and proceeded to pull a giant sock full 
of coins from his pocket.
   "One, two, three..." he started, counting as he pulled individual coins
from the sock.
   Minutes were drawn out like hours, as the cliché goes, and Death found
himself tapping his foot from impatience.
   "...forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty! $107.50. It's all there." He pushed
the pile of coins toward the woman, who proceeded to count each one again (to
double-check) as she put them in their proper trays in the cash drawer.
   "Is that really necessary?" Death asked. "Just give him the receipt
already."
   "I'm sorry, it doesn't print until I close the drawer."
   "Then close it!"
   She ignored him and continued to count coins. All of a sudden, a
high-pitched, rapid beeping broke her concentration.
   "What is that?" she asked, annoyed.
   "Dude, your robes are beeping." Quandry pointed.
   "No, it's the company pager." He pulled it from his pocket, pushed the
button, and looked at it. "Huh? NO!! It's already time for my next
appointment! We're LATE! You missed your time because you were counting out
your stupid coins!! Who keeps that many coins anyway!?"
   "Doesn't everyone?"
   Death looked at Quandry and the woman behind the counter. They looked at
him.
   "I... I... I have to go."
   "Well, thank you, please come again," she said.
   "Oh I'll be back for you alright, missy. Hope you look real well next
time you cross the street!"
   Yet another sweatdrop for the poor woman.
   Quandry finally collected his receipt and exited the store, carrying bags
full of toys in each hand. On his way out, he saw Death sitting on the curb
of the parking lot, and approached him. Spotting this, Death stood up
haughtily and began to walk away, but Quandry followed him.
   "Leaving so soon?" he asked.
   "I am SO not talking to you. Get lost!"
   "Are you kidding? We have to go to Software Etc. They have their Guardian
Force toys on sale!"
   "THAT'S IT!! I need a new job. Time to update my resume..."
   "Your loss," Quandry said, and started heading toward his car. "Oh well. 
An otaku's work is never done!"
   "Ah... ah... AAH-CHOOO!!"
   Quandry turned around and smirked.
   "Bless you!" he said.
   "SHADDAP!!" Death snapped, raising a bony middle finger into the air.
   With a giggle, Quandry packed his toys into the trunk and headed for the mall.

-----

Sean: "That was... different."

Xu: "I think I've been scarred for life."

Sean: "Is there even a moral to this story?"

Xu: "My guess would be if you can survive the pink aisle yourself, you don't 
have to fear Death."

Sean: "I wish there had been a pink aisle in Chocobo's Dungeon 2."

Xu: "What are you talking about?  Death ran the shops in that game."

Sean: ^^v "And none of them had a pink aisle, did they?  I think Quandry 
is on to something!"

Xu: --; "Baka."


	[End!]







Beans: [smacking Yggy] "Work, damn you! Work! (o.O;) She...she's dead! 
Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!"

[Beans breaks out into hysterical sobbing and holds a candlelight vigil for her 
now deceased PC.]

Death: --;;  "I hate my job."


	[Really the end!]