Beyblade Fan Fiction ❯ One of those days ❯ Hello, Bad Hair Day! ( Chapter 1 )
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By: aceber 
Ray was having a bad hair day. And with hair that long? He felt as if someone had turned on the washing machine with him inside.
Anime/Manga: Beyblade Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.28.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 476 | Visits: 736 | Status: Completed
Ray was having a bad hair day. And with hair that long? He felt as if someone had turned on the washing machine with him inside.
Anime/Manga: Beyblade Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.28.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 476 | Visits: 736 | Status: Completed
I don't own Beyblade.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
Ray lurched off the couch. It wasn’t often you got visitors at the dojo.
His muscles protested this small journey. Ray groaned as he slumped his way to the door. It was going to be one of those days, he could feel it in his shoulders, legs and… ah! His feet.
In short, Ray was having a bad hair day. And with hair that long? He felt as if someone had turned on the washing machine with him inside.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
Who on earth was that? He peered groggily through the eyepiece.
There was no phrase for it in the world, except for “djandfertsa h’eghs”, a rare saying developed by a small village dialect which, when translated means “My ancestor was struck by an elephant in the giant stink of time” (no one except for the poor man who died right after saying it understood what it meant and put it down to the deathbed ramblings of an old man).
Ray had never heard of that phrase, but if he had, he would be able understand it.
And offer an alternate translation. One word:
Pink!
It was definitely going to be one of those day.
Ray graciously ushered Mariah into the living room. She sat down gingerly on the squishy sofa before fixing him with a steely glare.
“So,” she commented, sweet as sugar flavoured arsenic, “What’s it like to be a world famous Bladebreaker?”
Ray’s ears translated for him.
“I’m trying to make you feel guilty for quitting the White Tigers and you’d better rejoin right away.”
“Uh, it’s OK” he replied cautiously.
“What’s your new team like?”
“Remember how much better your old team was.”
“Um, well, they’re sane.” Ray kicked himself, very hard.
“Ouch!” He bit his lip.
Mariah raised one delicate pink eyebrow with the air of one calmly launching a nuclear missile.
A loud crash shook the room. Ray tried to ignore it.
A louder splash. A drop of sweat rolled down his face.
Tyson staggered into the room completely saturated in pond water, and what Ray hoped was mud, slid with a slurp to the spotless carpet.
“Ray,” Tyson stated monotonously, “I drowned the alarm clock”
He collapsed with a loud wet thump onto the carpet.
In the frozen silence Ray turned to his former team-mate.
“OK. I lied.”
It was one of those days.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
Ray lurched off the couch. It wasn’t often you got visitors at the dojo.
His muscles protested this small journey. Ray groaned as he slumped his way to the door. It was going to be one of those days, he could feel it in his shoulders, legs and… ah! His feet.
In short, Ray was having a bad hair day. And with hair that long? He felt as if someone had turned on the washing machine with him inside.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
Who on earth was that? He peered groggily through the eyepiece.
There was no phrase for it in the world, except for “djandfertsa h’eghs”, a rare saying developed by a small village dialect which, when translated means “My ancestor was struck by an elephant in the giant stink of time” (no one except for the poor man who died right after saying it understood what it meant and put it down to the deathbed ramblings of an old man).
Ray had never heard of that phrase, but if he had, he would be able understand it.
And offer an alternate translation. One word:
Pink!
It was definitely going to be one of those day.
Ray graciously ushered Mariah into the living room. She sat down gingerly on the squishy sofa before fixing him with a steely glare.
“So,” she commented, sweet as sugar flavoured arsenic, “What’s it like to be a world famous Bladebreaker?”
Ray’s ears translated for him.
“I’m trying to make you feel guilty for quitting the White Tigers and you’d better rejoin right away.”
“Uh, it’s OK” he replied cautiously.
“What’s your new team like?”
“Remember how much better your old team was.”
“Um, well, they’re sane.” Ray kicked himself, very hard.
“Ouch!” He bit his lip.
Mariah raised one delicate pink eyebrow with the air of one calmly launching a nuclear missile.
A loud crash shook the room. Ray tried to ignore it.
A louder splash. A drop of sweat rolled down his face.
Tyson staggered into the room completely saturated in pond water, and what Ray hoped was mud, slid with a slurp to the spotless carpet.
“Ray,” Tyson stated monotonously, “I drowned the alarm clock”
He collapsed with a loud wet thump onto the carpet.
In the frozen silence Ray turned to his former team-mate.
“OK. I lied.”
It was one of those days.