Yuri and Nats: Freelance Police

Yuri and Nats: Freelance Police

The school day had ended like any other, except for all the things that were different. Namely, the sound of a skull shattering under the force of the cudgel, the skin tearing, blood spurting across the room, upon the celling, and down the halls.  No one discovered the body until the next day, when two unlikely heroes came to solve the sordid murder.

“Neat exposition! I like it already! Especially the parts where we feature!”

“Shut up Natsuki, we haven’t even been introduced yet! You’ve thrown off the whole plot’s motion. It’s as if you were Tanya Harding and tripped us all, ruining the story forever! I agree, though. I like the blood part. Visceral details always… catch my eye, that’s it.”
Well, the murder was discovered, at first they thought it was a suicide. But… yeah, no, let’s just drop in. You missed the whole lead up. I spent an entire hour thinking of how to build the drama, how to make your characters grow, and you ruin it within 2 minutes of the reader even looking at us. Good job, jerk offs.

Natsuki looked embarrassed. She was the short, loud, fighty one who loved cute things and baking. And the Balkans. And other things that begin with Bs that she doesn’t have, like breasts.

“Hey! I resent that description! Flat is JUSTICE!”

Who the hell cares? Now for Yuri, a bookworm.

“…”

…

“… That’s it? No other descriptors that reach into my very soul and teach me more about myself than even I knew? No descriptions of my quest for love, my privileged childhood leaving me too reserved to do much more than squeak and read and look ravishing?”

No. You are upsetting the reader with your big words. He’s too dumb to know what effervescent means.

“Isn’t that a kind of peppermint?” Natsuki blurted, proving the point of the narrator, who wishes for death daily, anything to escape the inane conversations of these two lunatics.

“I am NOT crazy, I’m just posh!” Yuri’s feeble protests were drowned out by police sirens setting the scene, where these 2 unlikely friends discovered the body and bonded over their observational talents and wisecracking dark humor. The narrator’s death that he had desired had come as an integral part of the story, but even him playing the dead body wasn’t enough for the glory hound, he had to continue narrating as well.

“Oi! I’ve seen you around the school, Purple! What do you make of this?” Said the pink goblin, hands on her hips, waving over that one girl she saw at lunch a few times when she was begging for scraps with the rats in the garbage.

“I do believe it was a salacious murder. Where’s his head?” Said the purple giant. Natsuki, now properly identified, scratched her head. “Huh. Think I would have noticed that, and not the ice on the floor leading to the cup he dropped. Is that how you trap ice? Put bait into a cup?”

“N-no. He must have had the cup filled with ice when he died. We don’t even have an ice machine here. How did he get it? Who is he? Why does he have such a pretty severed neck?” She added that last part softly, to herself, though obviously it was still audible so Natsuki heard.

“Well, the exposition said he was the narrator. That was pretty convenient huh? Anyway, I am Natsuki, or Nats if you want.  His neck looks like it’s made of jellybeans!”

“Well, that’s fair I guess. I thought you already introduced yourself though? I’m Yuri, not YOOREE as those damn Poles keep saying it.” Said YOOREE, owner of the nicest bathroom in the county.

“Must be an editing mistake. Where IS his head though? Let’s go door to door accusing people until they confess to the murder!” Said Natsuki, who was ignoring the blood trail leading down several floors, mostly because she wanted pocket change from scared nerds so she could survive another 24 hours on Nature Valley NUT bars. She loved NUT.

“I’ve got a better idea, Nats! Let’s follow that ominously fresh blood trail into the dark basement where all the freshmen are kept like the animals they are!”

……………………………………………………………………
Maybe do some edits. Make the basement REALLY dark and scary, real filthy too. Yeah, more of that. Slime rolling down the linoleum walls. The smell of piss and vomit.

“Jeez, even the author doesn’t bother to clean up his notes down here. At the risk of launching you into a long winded diatribe about proper ventilation of aromatherapy, can’t you make it smell better in here, Yuri?” Natsuki said, walking quietly along the dark hallways where even the shadows were afraid to stop.

“Just stick this bacon flavored mask over your face, it’ll smell better.”

“Didn’t bacon themed novelty gifts go out of style 10 years ago when nerd culture become mainstream?” Natsuki asked innocently.

“Yes they did. I have just had them in my pockets since 10 years ago.”

“Our skirts don’t have pockets, Yuri. How-“

“You don’t want to know the answer, blockhead. “Yuri pouted, blushing and going quiet as the disgust grew upon her short friend’s face.
The impromptu gas mask, possibly poisonous, clouded their vison, the perceptions going mad as the world shifted and stretched around them. Suddenly, a general scurrying. It was the dreaded period change, and all the F*eshman went out, attempting to evade the long arm of the law that was Mrs. Stonecrusher, an unflattering and assuming woman of her mid-40s, an alcoholic specifically employed by the school to keep order.

“Keep moving, kids. Just... ohh… 7 MORE HOURS OF THIS HAHAHHAA!” She cackled.

“Wow, Yuri. Did it really take an hour to talk about that guy’s body? Also, why isn’t the school closed so actual police can take care of it.”

“There’s been an outbreak of JoJo vampires, so they are busy with that. Seems like the fabric of reality is tearing somwheat, an important clue foreshadowing the end of this episodic adventure.”

“YOU. Somewheat is NOT a word! Explain yourself?” said the vile teacher. Yuri replied, smugly.

“No. We are here to ask you some questions. Why was that dead guy up there carrying ice?”

Stonecrusher scratched her apelike head. “Well, that’s fair, I did ask after all. I will only tell if you do my arbitrary task.”

“Oooh! I love arbitrary tasks that annoy the player/reader! He stinks at these!” Natsuki smiled directly at the camera, a beautiful smile. She’s blushing! How cute!

“Well, uh…” Stonecrusher looks around, and then throws the keys to the student’s rooms under the vending machine. Also, she locked all the students into their rooms. “Go get those keys, whelps.”

Both girls kneeled to see under the vending machine. The keys were too far away from Natsuki’s baby arms, and Yuri had breakfast that morning, so she was too thicc to fit underneath. Natsuki did have a useless thingamabob for this occasion, a magnet on a stick, but the teacher’s words grated on her.

“Hahah! I love seeing children on their knees! It brings me no greater pleasure!”

Natsuki… snapped. It was all Yuri could do to tell her to avoid the mouth, because she still needed to talk. Natsuki’s small blue shoes tapped a frenzied fandango on Stonecrusher’s face. She nearly lost an eye when the tip of her shoe kicked at her eye socket. “This is for my manga collection you burned in 6th grade, you creep!”

A soft hand fell upon the small girl’s shoulder. “Natsuki… That’s enough. She isn’t the object of your ire. Your misplaced feelings of hatred probably stem from somewhere else. Who in your life could possibly make you feel such passion, such murderous passion?”

Natsuki stopped mid kick. She did not move from that spot. “I-I can’t tell you. Not yet. It’s a matter of trust. I lost control. You, why did he have that cup of ice? It’s our only clue so far.”

“He just liked carrying ice, he was a sicko.”

Natsuki smashed her damn teeth in, raging against the cruel fate that had led her to probably get her expelled soon. “Why does nothing work like those old adventure games I played? Why do we hit this dead end, Yuri?”

In her rage, the vending machine had been knocked over, the snacks quickly grabbed up by Natsuki like some liberal tries to grab guns every time a kid dies on tv. She grabbed the keys, and the next clue. “Who put this spy camera under the vending machine, Yuri? Why does it have the name Herman Melville on it? Let’s go find him in the next subchapter of the first episode of Yuri and Nats: Cheap Vigilantes.”

Yuri laughed sincerely. “You have got to work on that name, little buddy.”

“Little? Why I oughtta…”

As the ending referenced Animaniacs, a classic American cartoon, I must leave you with a warning. Do NOT pretend to be police in real life. Yuri and Nats are highly trailed semi=professionals and you should leave the Neighborhood Watch to them. They will probably leave it an hour behind, though.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
“Wow, that star wipe was really quite extravagant for your imagination, how did they afford so many celebrities to wipe us down, Natsuki?”

She shook her head as Nick Cage walked off into the distance, the majestic creature that he is. “The power of imagination is free, Yuri. That ands most of these people are out of work or are in immense debt from their pedophilia trials. Strange that they would come to our school.”

“I dunno, Nats. Blood sacrifice is holy in many cultures, and is generally kinda romantic. I remember when he had a blood sacrifice that we would never stop being friends. Might have happened in the future though, the continuity on this fic is lousy.”

“Heh, lousy is such a funny sounding word. Anyway, look at that grotesque moleman janitor. I want to advance the plot before we get cataracts from staring at this small print for so long.”

The victim I mean suspect was valiantly mopping the floors, singing a negro spiritual. Wonderful voice, horrible face, like the rest of his kind. Too engrossed in listening to his old iPod to notice the horrible duo approaching. “OOF! Hey watch it, bozos! Ohh… uh, no, put down your fists please, little I MEAN PERFECTLY NORMAL GIRL. Yeah. Just chill, I dindu nuffin. No, I only heard the body fall. No, I did not see that the head fell down all 3 floors into the basement, nor did I see your confrontation with that teacher. Oops I’ve said too much.”

“Can… can he see the future? I haven’t even talked to him, or pummeled him yet. He just keeps talking. It’s uncanny, his ability to sense what I was about to say, Natsu- Yuri.”

“Shush. Let’s hear some more.”

“No, I definitely did NOT film all the girls and the hallways. No, there isn’t a live feed of your upskirts at this moment. Ignore that cute little Metal Gear MK 2 robot with the camera right by your feet. No, I’m not wearing a wire, this is a… religious artifact among my people. The Molemen love trash, yeah…  Anyway, you have moved up a cup size in recent months, Natsuki. Now you can graduate from your training bra. No, I wouldn’t have a coupon to the store, and I did not place it upon your person secretly with my robot. Having a robot, that’s preposterous. Almost like this plot. When is Monika going to feature, she was always my favorite, with the long legs and the big bow. No, I am not David Berkowitz. I’ve never even been to the 70s.”

“Whoever smashed this guy’s head off had to be one of the few men on campus of a mostly girl’s school. Clearly, it wasn’t you, you anemic twerp. Who could have done such a thing?”

“I dunno, Yuri. Maybe we have a modern-day Samson around here. Oh gawd, I’m becoming like that Moleman! Let’s leave before I start complaining about how the molemen were driven from the surface world!”

So, they left. They then went to a room conspicuously occupied by a moose, and enjoyed chocolate mousse with him for about an hour This was completely unconnected to the plot however, and they still had no leads on who could be the killer on the clearly stated suicide. Just because the narrator did it in a showy manner doesn’t mean that it was a murder. Goddamn, you two are as dumb as the Irish. 26+6 does not equal 1, it equals 32. They should all rejoin the British Empire anyway.

“Did you hear some more explanations from an unknown, dead narrator Yuri? Because it seems like we solved the mystery all by ourselves. This was clearly a hit by the Russian Government, well known for their unarmed power attacks. They have plenty of people with 10 in the strength stat. He could have been killed by them.”

“Sounds like a good explanation to be. Now all we need is a well-timed- “

The phone rang.

“I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT!” They screeched over each other, Natsuki losing to Yuri’s deadly and seductive leg lock as they answered the phone. “It’s the commissioner Max! Yeah? Oh, no, we are Yuri and Nats, poets for hire. Yes, we can solve a mystery. No, you don’t say. Take care!”

Click.

“What did the commissioner say, Yuri?”

“That was the throaty voice of the commissioner, Natsuki (I know!) He says we are off to the car museum! Someone has taken the sacred hubcap of Thickie Miniatures. We have to find it!”

One gratuitous and lengthy car chase later to a car museum where they played whack a rat at 60 miles per hour in a parking lot, they arrived at the next episode where hopefully the dead narrator can craft an overarching connection between everything so we all get a happy ending.
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