FicWad

AN: Those of you who know me should've seen this coming. Yeah.

Disclaimer: Isn't and won't ever be (unless I somehow manage a hostile takeover of Nickelodeon within the next few years). And the music from "Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex" O.S.T. is not mine either.

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W R A T H

1. Strong, stern, or fierce anger; deeply resentful indignation; ire

"O mother dear
I curse you so
For breathing life into your wretched son
Why were you born at all?
O mother dear
I love you so
O please forgive this anger in my soul
Without you I'm alone"

~Beauty Is Within Us, Yoko Kanno

I really do need psychological help of some sort, he mentally chuckled. This isn't healthy in the least. My cholesterol hasn't been well off for sometime and I imagine this little anger problem isn't helping.

Little was an understatement. Nothing about him was little. Not his anger and most definitely not his gut or his height. It was amazing that he managed to be a bender of this caliber in his current physical condition; King Bumi was probably the only bender of his nation who was in worse shape than him. Alright, maybe that was an exaggeration. But he did need to lose weight.

And he needed therapy. It didn't need to be professional, just someone he could talk to in confidence.

Amongst his peers The Blind Bandit was probably the only one who could help him. Her blindness would make her less put off by his size and her unmatched talent in the ring would insure that he wouldn't intimidate her. Plus, she was a girl - his little experience with females and what he had heard about them lead him to believe that she wouldn't mock or be cruel to him. But to his chagrin she only appeared seconds before a fight and always disappeared afterwards. And no one was interested in deep conversation during a match.

He inwardly sighed dejectedly. How can I talk to her if she's never around to listen?

His fists clenched absently as he fell into his designated role of the big dufus. It's doubtful that anyone will ever see me as anything more, the thought made him angry.

And The Boulder, ever the opportunity seeker, chose to insult him at that moment. "...You may be big, but you're not bad..." he stage-growled.

The rest of the oration was drowned out by a pounding in his sensitive ears. His mind was in turmoil, rage curled and twisted in his gut like a restless parasite. "HIPPO MAD!" he roared, all his sorrow and discontent expressed in that heartfelt and irate statement.

The Boulder took the emotional declaration as a challenge and happily complied. Using his earthbending he hurled a massive clump of tightly packed earth at his opponent.

It hit The Big Bad Hippo head on, aggravating his emotional upset. Hurt and unhappy, he shook the dirt off his wide shoulders like a dog shedding water from its coat and broke a large clod apart in his mouth for show.

It was an unhappy and wrathful Big Bad Hippo that shook the ring that night. And after his loss and another of The Blind Bandit's mysterious disappearances, only reading up on scroll about his favorite animal - the hippopotamus (hippopotamus amphibius) - soothed him that night.

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AN: Who is The Big Bad Hippo, who is he really? A misunderstood and intelligent man of compassionate heart or is he exactly what he is depicted as, an oaf? The world may never know.