‘X to the Z’ is owned and created by Dane O’Hara, as well as ‘Black Dog’ and ‘The Duck’. All Characters appearing from Diablo™ are copyrighted to Blizzard entertainment. If I forgot to mention any others, please don’t sue me.

Note: ‘Black Dog’ is not an enigma. Black Dog is the real name of an actual ‘black’ dog, who is owned by Dane O’Hara. Please do not get confused about this ^_^

Now that we have that cleared up…

This is, as usual, something I decided to write out of pure boredom. At this point, there are four options you may take. You can A) NOT read this. B) Destroy this. C) Use this as a floatation device. And D) E-mail me and tell me how marvellously humorous I am.

You can e-mail me (Dana) at…

You can e-mail my boyfriend (Dane) at…

Note: This story contains the following:

Sadistic and perverse concepts. Undead Homies. Vulgarity. Death. Explicit Sex. Anime. Mindless destruction and violence.

Note: This story was not written under the influence of any drugs.

Begin.

Enjoy.

~Jesa Jaisai #732

The spoon wavered, paused in mid-lift and stopped just as it had done the last six times. The man holding the spoon sputtered, tried to say something, gave up, and turned bright red. The girl across from him laughed maniacally.

"You’re so cute!" she shrieked.

The man turned even redder. "Shut up!" he shot back at her. She giggled some more.

<A close-up shot of the mans face reveals his annoyance. AND, as we see, his sexual appeal. His dark brown eyes, his dark, lucious black hair that pulls back from his forehead in a distinct widows peak and trails down his neck in spiral curls. His full, pouty lips and—

"Stuff it, Jesa!"

<Ok, ok. This man holding the spoon is none other than Dane O’Hara, smoker of much marijuana, driver of white vans, and he who plays final fantasy avidly.>

"That’s better."

<…He who operates and manoeuvres the infamous Peter Doily, of whom I dare not go into detail about. >

Dane promptly facefaults. Taking decisive action against his annoying girlfriend, he hugs the bowl of raisin bran closer and sulks, which in the end does nothing to elude her. His Mallard Duck sitting beside him sweatdrops and quacks in misery for his friend.

<A close-up shot of Dane’s Mallard Duck reveals…well…a Mallard Duck. But not just any Mallard Duck, but ‘X to the Z’ Mallard Duck. Dane’s partner in crime, when his girlfriend isn’t helping him break the law. >

"Yea!" X to the Z said with authority.

The girl sitting across from Dane was none other than his gorgeous, smart, and full-breasted girlfriend, Dana. Well, actually, she’s just average, stupid, and flat chested. But we can pretend!

So anyway, we’re getting to the good part. Dane and Dana are just two slightly deranged average people that live in an average town just like any other normal person. Just like any other person, they sport hammer pants and 21’ inch Afros. Just like any other person, they make music videos about Dead Babies and eat werewolf chicken. Yes, Dane and Dana were just two normal people in a normal world. They dream about having magical powers, fighting dragons, and living in mystical lands with Wizards and Elves. So, the good part is, they get to experience all that good stuff.

Dana looked up from tormenting her embarrassed boyfriend. "We do?" Dane and Dana seemed very excited about this, for reasons which are blatantly obvious.

Yes, they certainly do.

Of course, for their personal well being, they will be accompanied by an assortment of odd characters, and will both have their own special abilities, which would only be natural.

Dane and Dana shared a look that only a precious few could ever comprehend.

And so our Journey begins…

* * *

Hot water cascaded down the girl’s curvaceous and voluptuous body from the showerhead. She moaned and ran her fingers through her hair, in slow motion, and threw her head back in a very ‘Herbal Essences’ style movement.

"Yes…Yes…YES!" she screamed.

She stopped suddenly and giggled maniacally. "I always wanted to do that." She said to nobody in particular. She leaned back against the shower wall and continued shampooing her hair. She didn’t notice the goat that walked casually past the shower curtain.

Dana wouldn’t notice such things. A goat in her bathroom wouldn’t do much to frazzle her nerves, anyway. But if she had noticed that this was not just any goat, but the psycho reincarnation of Satan himself who was called by people as ‘Hope’, she would have taken the precaution of arming herself with the nearest available weapon.

The aforementioned ‘Hope’ sat on her haunches and watched as Dana continued massaging the lather through her hair, and continued to go unnoticed. It was only until Dana reached for the conditioner that she locked gazes with the animal. Hope blinked. Dana frowned. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between the two, as they shared visions of past battles and confrontations that didn’t exactly go very smoothly. At last Dana turned off the shower and stood, dripping wet and confused, and scratched her arm.

"Uh…"

Hope didn’t expect a mind-blowing greeting from her arch nemesis. In such situations as this, Dana was only capable of uttering things devoid of any intelligence. Of course, she only assumed this from what she had seen before. Hope had never really been in Dana’s bathroom, and so she couldn’t give an exact analysis. She was glad to be, however, in the bathroom of Dana Kendall, and was secretly delighted by the rows of colourful lip balms that littered the windowsill.

"I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m in your bathroom." Hope gave her an opening.

Dana looked nothing short of amazed. After recovering from the initial shock of hearing the animal utter something other than her usual Down syndrome noises, she put her hands on her hips and looked triumphant.

"AH!" she cried, as though she had just discovered a cure for aids. "I knew you could talk."

Hope looked a bit crestfallen. "Did you. Well, I bet you didn’t know I could do…this!"

She pulled out a pink Balloon and began constructing a French poodle.

Dana wondered if she had just witnessed what she thought she had. When she looked back at the goat who stared at her dumbly, she decided she hadn’t.

"Would you excuse me? I have to make a phone call." Dana stepped out of the shower stall and attempted to cautiously manoeuvre past Hope as best she could in the cramped space. Hope grunted and shook her head from side to side in her traditional manner.

"You’ll never make it past the sink, bitch."

Dana glowered down at the ferocious goat and clenched a fist. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Dana paused. "Like a fox!" she said, feeling unsettled.

Hope stamped her feet. "And don’t even think about transforming. It won’t do you any good. I’m wise to you, Dana Kendall. I have discovered your weakness, and I happen to hold some very valuable information."

Dana sputtered and tried to think of a retort. "And what information would that be, Hope?"

Hope’s eyes glittered evilly in the dim lighting. "You haven’t applied any lip balm for the last half hour…have you?"

Dana straightened. "It isn’t like I don’t carry a supply in the shower for emergencies, DUH. Jeez, how dumb do you think I am? I know I can’t transform into Raging Fire Within mode unless I have lip balm on. You honestly didn’t think you were going to catch me this time, did you Hope?" she looked at the sullen goat. "Oh you did? That’s so cute."

Wrapping a towel around her, she made her way to the door.

"Wait!" Hope cried after her. Dana looked over her shoulder. "What is it?"

"Aren’t you going to ask me how I can talk and why I’m here? You just can’t leave without hearing my grand evil scheme about how I’m planning to—

"I don’t really care. You can jump up my ass, Hope."

"FUCK!" Hope roared. "I HATE YOU, DANA KENDALL! I HOPE YOU NEVER COME OVER TO DANE’S ANYMORE! AND IF YOU DO…BY GOD, YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED!"

Dana looked at her sympathetically. "You’re truly a sad animal, aren’t you?"

Hope reared up on her hind legs and prepared to launch her final attack, the feared Anal Bruiser. But Dana was, fortunately, possessed of a healthy sense of self-preservation, and had enough common sense to fling herself out of harms way. Hope tumbled past her and connected with the wall outside the bathroom. Tiny cracks spread through the wall where Hope’s skull had imbedded itself. Tiny flakes of debris and paint fluttered to the ground around her now immobile body.

Dana grinned to herself. "That’s RIGHT!" she yelled down at the unmoving goat. "That’s what you GET!"

Hope said nothing.

Dana knew she had to phone Dane. She had to alert him that his goat was on the loose and was now a potential threat to society. She also wanted to talk to him on the phone wearing only a towel, but that was for her own reasons. She looked down at Hope one last time and decided that before she called Dane, she had to tie Hope up. And there was only one thing that would do the job. Duct tape. Man’s best friend.

"Whattup."

Dana grinned at the sound of her boyfriends voice. "It’s me."

"Yeah, I know. So what’re you doing?"

"Well, I’m wearing a towel." Dana said. "And I’ve just finished tying Hope up with duct tape. She attacked me while I was in the shower. She tried Anal Bruiser on me, but I was lucky, I had just put some Cappuccino lip balm on."

Dane let out a sigh of relief. "That is lucky. You might have had one sore ass."

"And you say being a dependent is pathetic." Dana grinned to herself. "Lip balm has once again saved my life."

"What was Hope doing in your bathroom?" Dane’s confused voice asked from the other end of the line, as though it had suddenly and violently struck him that it was odd.

"I don’t know. I was hoping you’d have some sort of an explanation."

"Uh…no. But I’ve got this ham."

"Well, pack it up with some other things and come over to my house. Hurry."

Dane gave her the ok and hung up. Dana looked over at Hope. The drugs were starting to wear off, and the Duct Tape, no matter how strong it was, would not hold the insane rampaging animal for very long. Dana made herself comfy on her couch in front of the computer and watched as Hope weakly struggled against her restraints. She finally cracked open an eye and glared at Dana.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" Hope mumbled, trying her hardest to form words.

Dana shrugged. "I just fed you a bottle of extra strength Tylenol and tied up your legs with a few rolls of duct tape. Why?"

Hope heaved a sigh and flopped around on the carpet. "I hate you."

"I know." Dana said. "But this is kind of hilarious to watch. By the way, Dane’s on his way over here. I just thought you might want to know."

Dane looked around his room. In one hand he held a duffel bag, and in the other, The Duck. He looked thoughtful.

"What’s important enough to bring…hmm…" He walked around his room and glanced at everything, giving all the items some thought. Then he began shoving random things into the bag. Jake the Drake, Honks the Goose, his playstation, Cro-Bar, PennyWhompus, his green pen, Dane’s jack off tape, his Angel deck of Magic cards, his pink afro pick, all of his ICP CDs, and the dragon that sat on top of his t.v.

He felt unsettled, somehow. As though he was forgetting something. He remembered his plate of ham.

"Yea!" He picked it up off the table and stuffed it in with the other items. Then he picked up the keys to ‘The Beast’ and took off running down the hallway. X to the Z quacked loudly and leaped into the passenger seat beside Black Dog, leaving her little to no room. Little did Dane know that the items he had thrown into the duffel bag were to determine if he and his beloved Dana were to live through the next few weeks.

Dana heard the roar of the annoyingly loud van as it pulled up into her driveway. She grinned maliciously at Hope. "And here is your hearse."

"Bite me."

She shrugged again and proceeded up the stairs to where Dane was already entering the doorway. He pulled her into a hug.

"Did you bring some stuff?" she asked him.

He pulled away and showed her the duffel bag at his feet. "I brought everything I thought would be important. Where’s Hope?"

"At the bottom of my stairs." Dana said sullenly. Dane peeked over her shoulder and saw that indeed, Hope lay at the bottom of the steps, wrapped up in Duct Tape.

"Nice Duct Tape job." He commended Dana. She ginned. "Wanna help me get her into the back of the van?"

Getting Hope into the back of the van proved to be more of a problem than either of the two expected. After 10 minuets of pushing, shoving, heaving and dropping, they decided to take another approach.

"This isn’t working." Dane looked mildly frustrated. "Let’s just…uh…put her in the shed."

Dana blinked. "The shed?"

"Sorry. I wasn’t thinking." Dane rubbed the back of his head and shrugged. "Unless you can think of a better idea…"

Of course, Dana wasn’t the brains of the outfit. "We could always go to Dairy Queen." She offered. She rummaged around in her pockets. "I have 2 bucks. That’s enough for some Ice Cream."

Dane considered this. "That sounds good." He grinned. "Let’s go to Dairy Queen."

"Wait!"

They both looked down at Hope and looked startled. In their excitement of actually having enough money to purchase ice cream, they had forgotten about the distempered animal.

"Don’t worry Hope, you have four stomachs. You’ll be just fine."

Hope glared and made a goat noise. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It will take the vultures longer to eat you."

Dana was about to continue her verbal assault on the immobile goat, but Dane was making his way into the van. She heard his door close and decided she had better get in as well. Hope whimpered.

"You’re really going to leave me here, aren’t you?"

"That’s correct." Dana said with a huge game show host grin. Her teeth glittered for added effect. "Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to Dairy Queen." She threw back her head and laughed a mighty arch deluxe laugh.

‘The Beast’ tore out of the driveway in a cloud of gravel and dust. Hope listened to the faint ‘hemmmmmm’ noise that was slowly fading off into the distance and felt completely fucked over.