Disclaimer: I own nothing GW. except the DVD's.

Genre: Parody, humor, bad taste
Pairings: I will get to them, but none as of yet
Warnings: it's a parody. i make use of overused stereotypes, make fun of anything and everything.

Note: Depending on the reaction i get, i may continue... it was a side trip into my cynical psyche.

Part 1
by 0083

Five old men looked at each other with a bit of consternation, if not outright chagrin. They were quite a sight, mismatched and wrinkled, hardly the picture of superheroes.

"Thirty years ago, we kicked ass."

"Thirty years ago, we could wear spandex without the high embarrassment factor."

So went the conversations, all comments centering around their glory days when they were young, fit and swoon worthy. Unfortunately, time marched on relentlessly, even over superheroes who defended the universe and other important things.

"We need successors."

"Who do we get?"

"We should send out try-out forms!"

"Are you nuts? We'd get flooded with wannabes and other losers. No thanks."

"How about invitations? We must have noticed some worthy ones in our stint, right?"

"Invitations! Brilliant! Nothing less from J, that's for sure."

"Yep, those prosthetic eyes haven't dimmed his inner vision at all."

"And they look better than G's stupid nose enhancer."

"Yeah? What about your sad excuse of a mustache, O?"

Bickering aside, the five heroes who had saved the universe many times, otherwise known as the Superhero Alphabet Team (thanks to their lettered names) decided to choose successors to their superherodom via invitations.


When the five invited successors arrived at the superhero hideout (or hall, or whatever), the five old superheroes were already gone. In their place was a hastily written note left on the center console.

//Dear Successors,

We hope you like the hideout (or hall, or whatever).

We wanted to be there to train you, give you instructions and other useful things, but we decided that the retirement home in Bermuda was too good to pass up. So get comfortable and good luck in saving the universe.


Alphabet Team//

Not a very momentous beginning, but it was a beginning.

The five successors looked around at each other. They were five boys, all around fifteen or so. And as the laws of nature dictate, they immediately began their pissing contest to see who would be the leader of this newly found superhero group.

"I'm Heero Yuy. My superhero name is, of course, the Perfect Soldier. I am most suited to be the leader because I come with my own spandex."

"Duo Maxwell here. Call me Shinigami. That alone makes me way cooler than any of you here."

"Trowa Barton. Silencer." Intimidating silence followed. How appropriate.

"My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. I think I should be called.. the Desert Noble. Yes, that will do for now. I should be leader because I'm really rich. The real world works that way, so why not us?"

"If there is any justice, I, Chang Wufei, the Dragon, should lead!"

Ah yes, who indeed would be the leader of this clandestine group?


A week later, the leader situation still had not beenresolved, but that was just fine since the universe did not seem to be in any immediate peril. The boys were getting to know each other, however reluctantly, as they argued over everything.


"The Hall of Justice! We should be called the Justice League!"

"Sheesh, Wufei, not only is it cheesy, it's copyright infringement! Do you want to get sued?"

"Silence, long haired idiot boy!"

"SHINIGAMI! I told you that!"


"No spandex."

"All superheroes wear spandex."

"Not me. I like my outfit."

"You look like a delinquent priest."

"And that's cool, I know. You should go for a new look. I mean, should the Perfect Soldier really be that friendly with spandex?"

"It is standard superhero clothing. Look at them all. Superman, Batman, Spiderman, any and all of X-men.."

"So what? I'm telling you, if you saw a guy in a blue leotard with red underpants running around with a cape, the first word in your mind won't be 'superhero'."



"Zero system for our central system? Is that a good idea?"

"Quatre, just because you go psycho on it does not mean the rest of us will."

"Yes, it's hard to go psycho when you are already one, isn't it."

"I heard that, blondie."

"I meant for you to hear it, uni-bang."

"At least I don't go around wearing pink."

"I'm confident enough in my manliness to wear pink."

"Confidence, delusion, whatever works for you."

"What was that?"


"I happen to be qualified for superherodom, thank you. I'm telepathic."

"And that will help us how?"

"You're just jealous, Trowa."

"Not likely, Quatre. I can defy gravity."

"Just because your hair does, does not mean the rest of you can."

"Hell, I have better superpowers than the both of you combined. I'm Shinigami, the invisible. No enemy can see me coming."

"Yeah, but they can hear you, oh long-winded God of talk me to Death."

"Shut up, Heero."

"Shouldn't that be YOUR modus operandi?"

"At least I don't have the standard superhero power like you, super strength Heero."

"At least my power is useful."

"Yeah, if we need to open the peanut butter."

"Will you two shut up? Everyone knows my power of justice is the greatest."

"Pay up, Heero. Wufei just said justice and it has been only five minutes."

"Damn. I was sure it would be seven minutes."


"Quatre, pay up."



So went the superheroes' days. They were able to choose a leader, finally, after Quatre a.k.a. the Desert Noble went absolutely psycho on the central system and threatened them all quite convincingly that he was the most likely leader among them all. Zero System Quatre, as he was dubbed by a stunned Shinigami, was a creature of no mercy and no style. Better to make him leader than end up pushing up daisies. The naming of their group situation also eventually resolved itself, this time thanks to Trowa's ingenuity. He had meticulously written out all the names they had come up with and picked one out of the hat. The Gundam Five. What a gundam was, no one knew really, but it sounded like a superhero thing and that was enough. Except for Wufei's mutterings about 'Justice', the name was accepted.

Now they were no longer nameless group of superheroes without a leader. They were now The Gundam Five, led by the capable (and occasionally mental) Quatre, the Desert Noble.

And after all that, the universe was not cooperating. No major crisis, no natural disasters, not even a small sized invasion to spice things up. Alas, the Gundam Five was bored out of its mind in its hideout (or hall, or whatever). Then it came. The dreaded. The unthinkable.

The Peacecraft.


on to part 2

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