Categories > Games > Kingdom Hearts
Rantings of a Teenage Goof
Author's Notes: I miss Disney Afternoon, and really wish Max would be in KHIII even though I really doubt it. Maybe a Powerline summon? Maybe? Please? Correct me on any canon problems; it's been four years since I last played KHI and I can't find an online script -- if anyone has one, I'd love 'em forever.
WARNING: This story has spoilers for the fate of the Disney cast at the end of KHII.
*
You put on your most serious face and pat me on the shoulder.
"Maxxie, there comes a time when a Goof's gotta do what a Goof's gotta do," you say, and I finally look up from the book I've been reading to impress Roxanne. Okay, so, I bite -- what does a Goof have to do, exactly?
You tell me about something called a Keyblade, and how you're off to save the world -- worlds, whatever. And while a part of me thinks that the King's confused you again, another part of me goes cold, because there's dangerous stuff out there and I don't know what I'll do if you get hurt.
"Dad, you can't just --" I begin, but I know that you'll never listen to an argument like that because you think you can do anything and sometimes I even think you really, really can. So I try again: "Hey, let me come!"
Because really, if you the dorky dad goes out and saves the world, what does that say about me, the son? Obviously, I have to be cooler than you, my dad, and to do that I need to get out of this Castle and get a life. Even Huey, Dewey, and Louie get to go out and do their slightly weird store thing and they're just little kids.
"No, son, I think ya need to stay here an' hold down the fort," You say, all serious and fatherly like. Which is funny, because half the time I can't even tell who's the parent in this relationship, anyway. "You stay here and help th' Queen. She'll need a good, strong boy like you, Maxxie."
Great. Lovely. Cue seething and pouting and general fit throwing for a few weeks and lots of whining to Peej, right up until the time you leave. And then it's just silence and worrying and okay maybe a little more whining to -- at? -- Peej.
A year, more than a year. You're gone for a whole year, a year for me worrying and wandering around here and being semi-adopted by the Queen out of pity; and there's lots of pity, and Roxanne thinks I'm a pathetic loser now because I'm always moping because you had to run off and go on this crazy world-saving mission. The one time you do come back I'm gone on a field trip, of all things, with Professor Von Drake. So that's another few months I didn't get to see you until finally, finally you came home.
Of course, no one thought to tell me when the ship landed and everyone greeted the Queen, so I just about jumped out of my skin when you were waiting in my room, when I got back from skateboarding. I think they heard me screaming (with joy and frustration) clearly in other worlds.
But hey, maybe I shouldn't yell at you so much because I have my dad back now and that's gotta be good for something, right? I love you, too, Dad. \par
It's okay really, Dad, the gang's all together again, you don't have to cry -- aww, that's not a tissue, that's my sweatshirt! Gross!
/END./
Author's Notes: I miss Disney Afternoon, and really wish Max would be in KHIII even though I really doubt it. Maybe a Powerline summon? Maybe? Please? Correct me on any canon problems; it's been four years since I last played KHI and I can't find an online script -- if anyone has one, I'd love 'em forever.
WARNING: This story has spoilers for the fate of the Disney cast at the end of KHII.
*
You put on your most serious face and pat me on the shoulder.
"Maxxie, there comes a time when a Goof's gotta do what a Goof's gotta do," you say, and I finally look up from the book I've been reading to impress Roxanne. Okay, so, I bite -- what does a Goof have to do, exactly?
You tell me about something called a Keyblade, and how you're off to save the world -- worlds, whatever. And while a part of me thinks that the King's confused you again, another part of me goes cold, because there's dangerous stuff out there and I don't know what I'll do if you get hurt.
"Dad, you can't just --" I begin, but I know that you'll never listen to an argument like that because you think you can do anything and sometimes I even think you really, really can. So I try again: "Hey, let me come!"
Because really, if you the dorky dad goes out and saves the world, what does that say about me, the son? Obviously, I have to be cooler than you, my dad, and to do that I need to get out of this Castle and get a life. Even Huey, Dewey, and Louie get to go out and do their slightly weird store thing and they're just little kids.
"No, son, I think ya need to stay here an' hold down the fort," You say, all serious and fatherly like. Which is funny, because half the time I can't even tell who's the parent in this relationship, anyway. "You stay here and help th' Queen. She'll need a good, strong boy like you, Maxxie."
Great. Lovely. Cue seething and pouting and general fit throwing for a few weeks and lots of whining to Peej, right up until the time you leave. And then it's just silence and worrying and okay maybe a little more whining to -- at? -- Peej.
A year, more than a year. You're gone for a whole year, a year for me worrying and wandering around here and being semi-adopted by the Queen out of pity; and there's lots of pity, and Roxanne thinks I'm a pathetic loser now because I'm always moping because you had to run off and go on this crazy world-saving mission. The one time you do come back I'm gone on a field trip, of all things, with Professor Von Drake. So that's another few months I didn't get to see you until finally, finally you came home.
Of course, no one thought to tell me when the ship landed and everyone greeted the Queen, so I just about jumped out of my skin when you were waiting in my room, when I got back from skateboarding. I think they heard me screaming (with joy and frustration) clearly in other worlds.
But hey, maybe I shouldn't yell at you so much because I have my dad back now and that's gotta be good for something, right? I love you, too, Dad. \par
It's okay really, Dad, the gang's all together again, you don't have to cry -- aww, that's not a tissue, that's my sweatshirt! Gross!
/END./
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