Categories > Games > Metal Gear Solid > Leave it to Sorrow

Worst Chapter Yet

by Gai 2 reviews

A look into the lives of the Sorrow, Boss, and Ocelot family in the style of a 1950 sitcom.

Category: Metal Gear Solid - Rating: PG - Genres: Humor, Parody - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2005-12-15 - Updated: 2005-12-15 - 1692 words

-1TrainWreck
Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear Solid. In case there was any confusion concerning that.

Announcer: Leave it to Sorrow is filmed in front of a live studio audience!

Ocelot: (enters) Father, I've received my report card showing my grades at school, which I'm required to present to you.

The Sorrow: (sitting in his chair making a noose) What?

(audience laughs)

The Sorrow: (looking at Ocelot's grades) C- in espionage? D in close-quarters combat? And how did you get an F in torture? I thought that was your favorite class.

Ocelot: I'm sorry, Father, I guess I'm just not very smart.

The Sorrow: Sad...so sad...

Ocelot: (scheming to himself) Father thinks I'm failing in school, but in truth those are false documents, for my real report card shows that I am at the top of my class, so in thinking that I'm an imbecile, Father will underestimate me, thus failing to foresee my betrayal in the near future, when I-

The Sorrow: What was that, Ocelot?

Ocelot: Nothing, Father.

The Sorrow: I must say I'm disappointed in you, my son, I would think you'd take this more seriously than that. You have to learn that school is important to your future, because if you graduate from high school, you can try to go to college...though your mother and I probably wouldn't be able to afford to pay for your tuition...but you could get a scholarship...however I doubt you'd be able to pay it off, as I can tell just by looking at your grades that you'll never have much of a chance of getting a high-paying job...though even if you do, it won't matter, really...you'll just be making money that you'll never get to enjoy, because your life will be consumed by your job...I suppose you can try to throw cash around on frivolous little things...but it won't matter...you'll already be dead inside...

Ocelot: ...

(The Boss enters)

The Boss: Ocelot, what have you to report on the opposition?

Ocelot: You have nothing to fear, Mother, I've monitored them all very closely, and I can assure you that they shall cause you no trouble.

The Boss: Good work. Then it seems that we'll surely crush our enemies this time.

The Sorrow: This isn't about the competition again, is it?

The Boss: We can't allow ourselves to slack off against our opponents, overconfidence is the greatest mistake one can make on or off the battlefied.

Ocelot: Exactly, Mother. (scheming to himself again) Mother thinks I am working for Mrs. Emmerich as an agent while really working for her as a double agent, but I'm in fact working for Mrs. Emmerich as a triple agent, pretending to betray her so that I can deceive Mother into thinking I'm simply a double agent who she can confide into, yet what Mrs. Emmerich doesn't realize is that I am in fact not really a triple agent, but...wait. Who am I working for?

The Sorrow: ...Son, I need to have a word with your mother, so you run along now and enjoy the few remaining moments of happiness your childhood allows.

Ocelot: Yes, Father. (leaves)

The Sorrow: Boss, don't you think you're getting carried away with a simple bake sale?

The Boss: Carried away? You can never get carried away when your goal is victory, competition is what causes humanity to strive for greatness.

The Sorrow: But why a bake sale? You don't even know how to cook, all we ever eat for dinner is your supply of military rations.

The Boss: Rations are an important source of nutrition, providing a balanced meal that allows for a well maintained diet, as well as being easily stored and lasting for-

The Sorrow: Yes, yes...I know. You've told me before. You go have fun with your little bake sale.

The Boss: Thank you. (considers kissing The Sorrow, but instead decides upon a handshake)

(The Boss leaves)

The Sorrow: Now where was I? (looks down at noose) Oh, that's right...

(doorbell rings)

The Sorrow: (getting up) Typical of my luck, not even finding the time to...

(The Sorrow opens the door)

The Fear: Hey, buddy!

(audience cheers)

The Sorrow: Oh....hello.

The Fear: What's wrong, pal? You seem depressed. Again.

The Sorrow: It's...it's nothing.

The Fear: It's the family, ain't it?

The Sorrow: ...Yes.

The Fear: That's married life, I warned you. Not like me, when I see a girl I like, we get it on that night!

(audience cheers)

The Sorrow: That's not what...

The Fear: ...and then, after we're done, I always like to tie her up, and she thinks I'm just being kinky, but then I...

The Sorrow: ...

The Fear: ...of course the hard part is cleaning up all the evidence....though there's certainly nothing clean about it.....heh...

The Sorrow: ...

The Fear: ...heh heh.....evisceration.

The Sorrow: ...

The Fear: ...hey, why don't we go out for a drink with the rest of the Cobras?

The Sorrow: No thanks, I prefer to drink alone...

The Fear: Come on, just us guys, it'll be fun!

The Sorrow: I don't believe in fun, I like to dwell over the miserable, meaningless existance we lead as humans, pitifully walking to our own dreary deaths...

The Fear: ...

(The Boss returns)

The Boss: By the way, I'll need you to pick up four kilos of heroin for the cookies I'm baking.

The Sorrow: Heroin?

The Boss: Heroin is a highly addictive substance, which should give me the edge over that Emmerich bitch.

The Sorrow: ...

(at the Grozny Grad bar)

The Sorrow: ...sad...my life is so sad...

The Fear: (takes a drink of his beer) So then kill yourself, buddy, it's the easy way out. No divorce, no child support, no messy stuff.

The Sorrow: ...no...the afterlife is no less unpleasant than this world...an endless sea of anguish and misery...an eternal resting place for those who have damned themselves during their lifetimes, bastards of god such as ourselves...be wary, my friend, for the dead are not silent...

(phone rings)

Bartender (answers it) : ...is there someone here named Sorrow?

The Sorrow: ...

(The Sorrow slowly answers the phone)

The Sorrow: ...hello? .....no, I don't want to join The Cardboard Box of the Week Club. (hangs up)

(The Fury enters)

The Fury: Hey, why didn't you bastards tell me you were down here getting a drink, thought you were too damn good for me?

(The Fury is furious. As usual)

The Fear: Hey Fury, I'm just tryin' to cheer Sorrow up.

The Fury: Cheer him up? What the hell does he have to be upset about? He's got a wife and kid, his own house, a steady job, it...it just makes me so mad!

The Fear: There's nothing good about having a family, it just means an unending hell of commitment, a wife's nothing more than a ball and chain.

Fury: (CENSORED) that! If I had a wife, she'd do everything I say, and I'd be the king! I wouldn't take no shit from my woman! This is pathetic, crying his brains out when he should be laying down the law!

(The Fury starts fuming. Literally)

Bartender: Hey, there's no smoking allowed in here! Get out!

The Fury: Get out? Who the (CENSORED) do you think you are, the (CENSORED)ing bartender or something?

Bartender: Yes.

The Fury: Alright! I'll go! But I'll see you in the fires of hell!

(The Fury storms off in a fury)

Announcer: Leave it to Sorrow will be right back after this commercial break!

(The Pain is scratching all over)

The Pain: IT ITCHES! THE PAIN!

Announcer: Hey, you there!

The Pain: (stops scratching and looks at camera) Huh?

Announcer: Do you have problems with itching, rashes, or other forms of skin irritation?

The Pain: No, I just like touching myself while talking to myself. Of course I do, you dumbass!

Announcer: Then you need Fox-Hound Anti-Itch Powder!

(The Pain tries it)

The Pain: It feels...better. What's this made from?

Announcer: Morphine.

The Pain: Oh man.....OH MAN...that's nice...it's...it's like I'm in Outer Heaven...

Announcer: Fox-Hound Anti-Itch Powder! The strength you need, the label you trust!

Announcer (A different announcer. Don't get confused) : And now back to Leave it to Sorrow!

The Sorrow: ...there's been something I've been wondering about for a while now...why do we use bombs to kill ourselves when we're captured?

The Fear: Huh. You know, I never actually thought about that before. I think it was The End's idea, you should ask him.

(The Fear looks around)

The Fear: ...hey, have you seen The End lately?

(at the local hospital)

Doctor: Mr. End-

The End: THE End.

Doctor: ...Mr. The End, I'm afraid you have Cancer.

The End: ...how long do I have?

Doctor: (looks at watch) 3 hours. (looks back down at watch) ...no, my mistake. I forgot to set my watch. You have ten minutes.

The End: I see... (pulls out remote)

(hospital blows up)

The Fear: ..I'm sure he's alright.

(The Fear smells something)

The Fear: Hey...is that smoke?

(Five minutes later, after The Fear has dragged The Sorrow, who wished to stay, out of the burning building)

The Fear: Wow...look at that. It's beautiful, ain't it?

The Sorrow: You know, you really didn't have to block the door from the outside so no one else could escape.

The Fear: No, I guess I didn't HAVE to...

The Fury: How do you like your (CENSORED)ing bar now, you son of a bitch? I see a lot of smoke from where I'm standing, you self-righteous bastard!

The Fear: Hah hah! What can I say, that's my Fury!

(The End appears like Porky Pig at the end of the credits)

The End: This is THE END.

(End of Chapter 1. Or The End(not the character). I don't know. Depends on reviews)

If you bothered to take the time to read this, you might as well review. It'd probably only take a few seconds. I mean you wasted at least five minutes reading this crap. A little more time won't kill you.
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