"Tournamment? I have a few things that I'd like to use for that..." Vernon said, yet he was nowhere to be seen. Had he moved again while nobody was watching? "And if any of you feel up to it..." One of the cabinet doors in the kitchen swung open. Surely enough, Vernon was inside of it. Much like what took place several moments ago, Vernon crawled out of his hiding space before continuing to speak. "You can test a weapon that I've been developing." He smiled a devious smile, and steepled his hands as he spoke. Whatever this 'weapon' was would probably bring about some sort of issue which Vernon would have intended for. It was at that moment that Vernon noticed that Sume-san was out cold. It was quite obvious that it was the T0@ST3R's doing. Vernon was slightly relieved at the fact that there were side-effects to eating at least one of the slices of toast, whereas the rest were oddly safe. "Found the tainted one." He said, pointing toward Sume-san's unconscious body.

"Do we get to pick our partners?!" Shuu repeated with a bellowing laugh. "Even better! I've picked them for you! Now, Hajime-chan you'll be with Isabella, and Sume-san will be with-" "A... a tournament? Are you crazy?!" Shuu waited patiently for Mishi to finish her thought. "Au contraire, my dear Mish. I think your skills are perfect for this tournament. It will not only be a test of strength, power, and will, but also wit. That is why you and Ata-chan are exactly what our team needs." As he pulled a folded paper from his seemingly bottomless back pocket, Sume-san jumped towards him in excitement, then fainted. "Ver-chan! You poisoned our Sume-saaaaan!" Shuu called out in anguish, as he took the creature's lifeless body into his arms. His eyes looked this way and that, but the inventor had disappeared. Shuu didn't notice him come out from his hiding, before dropping onto his knees and sobbing. All sorts of bodily fluids were running down his face. "Su-Su-Sume-san!" he cried. "He was such a young s-soul! Well, not really. He was k-kinda old, but... I don't have a single black outfit in my closet! Sume-san! We knew you well." He wiped his snot on his sleeve then looked up at the others. "I think we're going to have to have a funeral before the tournament."

Hajime

Hajime wondered if he shouldn't have expected something terrible when Shuu started laughing like a psycho. It was as if he had jinxed himself with that one thought. "Son of a bitch!" He cursed under his breath. He then promptly stormed out of the room. He could care less about Mishi's protests or the fact that Sume-san might be dead. He had the worst of it; he had to put up with Isabella for the whole tournament! Who knew how long this tournament could be? No matter what, this was bound to be the worst tournament he had ever participated in. Outside, Hajime had prepared his custom order training dummy. It was fashioned from the rarest metals known to man, and was nigh indestructible. It would've been excessive for anyone else, but for Hajime, it was the only thing that could endure his godlike strikes. He was going to be making good use of this dummy, not simply to prepare for the upcoming tournament, but also because he felt he was going to be in a perpetual bad mood from now until they got their vacation. As he rained blow after blow on the mannequin, the ground around him shook with each and every attack. The house was going to start trembling a bit too.

Koneko

While everyone was busy talking about the tournament, Koneko was busy being mad about someone eating his fish "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!" He exploded. In his anger, he formed chakra claws on his hand and used it to slice the fridge to shreds. "My fish...which one of you bastards ate my fish nyan!!!!????" He asked, his voice starting out deathly quiet before erupting into a yell. "You all knew it was mine, you had to!!!! I carved my name all over it nyan!!!!!" Strangely enough, all of the hairs on Koneko's body stood straight up, as if every one of them had an erection (somebody was going to say it, I'm just beating them to the punch). "That was my fishy nyan!!!! I was going to eat it, and it was going to be delicious nyan!!!"

Atasuke took the handgun from Amami, holding it gingerly as he wrapped his fingers around the grip. Slowly, he extended his arm and raised so that he could aim down the sights, a slight frown forming on his face as he did so. Weapons were nothing like the movies, real ones had weight, drag, and multiple bits and pieces that had to be maintained regularly. He kept his finger off the trigger, rolling around the weapon in his palm, getting used to the feeling of the cold steel tingling his nerves. It would be easy. All he had to do was load a clip into it, chamber a round, and squeeze the trigger. And just like that, a life would be gone, the flame of the soul extinguished, and all he would hear would be the hollow jingle of a brass casing. But he didn't let that show in his facial expressions, instead opting to keep a fixed grin on his face. Turning to Amami, he nodded. "I shall try my best. Though you'll have to forgive me if I'll never be as proficient in this area as you are, Amami-san." Just then, the tiger-fish collapsed, and the Neko-boy was slicing the refrigerator in half. Ruining the kitchen he had just cleaned. "Koneko-kun, you are making a mess." Atasuke stated flatly. 'And trying my patience you little shit. I'm going to kill you.' Wait a minute, that was a disturbing thought that had just crossed his mind. "Your fish should be on the counter, where you had left it to thaw." 'My one day off and I have to put up with this. One day I'm going to slice you open with a letter opener.' Atasuke paused, and rubbed his head. "I think I feel a headache coming on. I'm going to take a hot shower." Stuffing the pistol in his overcoat, he took off his cleaning gloves, rolled down the sleeves of his suit, and trudged back into his bedroom. He needed to take his medication; kept him calm.

Amami sighed as Koneko shredded the refrigerator, and began gathering the food from within. "Shuu-chan, get some ice to keep this cold please." She said and, once it was emptied out, got to hauling out the ruined refrigerator out to the trash. It was all heavy, but she was fit, so she could haul it all outside. It took her a good while to do it, but after she was done she smiled happily. Another bit of work done, but now she had to get to training! She headed upstairs and did a few things. First, she changed into her fighting outfit, a tank-top and shorter skirt to avoid impeding movement. Again, many had called her out on it, saying it was hardly practical combat attire, but it suited her just fine. She slid a pistol in to replace the one she'd given to Atasuke, but also grabbed another weapon from deep inside her closet. An M16 assault rifle, and ammo, took its place on her back and belt, respectively. When pistols just didn't have what she needed for the situation, this rifle helped her get the job done. With that, she headed outside to where her target range was set up, not too far from Hajime's earth-shaking punches. She nodded curtly to him and got to work training, consisting primarily on working on her transition between pistols and rifle in mid air, along with her reloads and marksmanship. She never missed, but it couldn't help to keep training after all.

Mishi, though angry, accepted that the others were indeed useless without the brains of her, Atasuke, and Vernon. It was reckless of Shuu to sign everybody up for the tournament without their permission. Mishi walked out of the mess which had become the kitchen and went back into her room. It was about time for her to rummage through her closet to try and find out what she would wear. The myriad of skirts, scarves, and sweaters which were jumbled through out the closet could only by described as a mess. Yet, it was a mess Mishi is most certainly familiar with. Her searching hands reached into the closet and withdrew, one-by-one, a light blue sweater, black scarf, and a plain red skirt. After a few minutes, Mishi had put on a pair of black panty hose underneath the skirt and slipped on her comfortable, red sneakers as she slipped on her clothes. With her clothing done, Mishi left her room and returned to the kitchen. "So, do we have any actual plan on what we are going to be doing at this tournament?" Mishi asked as she sat down on the counter.