Title: Double Take, Matimli Parody

Pairing: Just a Luffy/Usopp kiss. No biggie.

Rating: K+ for a few words and suggestions of boy/boy, cuz we all know the youngsters don't like that stuff. XD

Warnings: Crack. AU. A bit of Hancock-Bashing. I do love her really...it's just that she's arrogant and I can't help but want to laugh at her for it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't even own the apartment complex. TAT

-----X3-----

Though it was daylight, and the beauty of the big city could not be compared to what it was at night, when it was lit up like a sparkling, many-hued jewel against an inky backdrop, the midday sun and bright blue sky above the buildings made a pretty picture when viewed from the many windows of the city's high-rises.

Despite the pleasantness of the scene, however, one woman in particular found a reason to be grumpy with it.

The night is when this city comes alive. During the day, it's as dull as watching paint dry. Oh why am I not still asleep at this hour?

Hancock Boa clicked her tongue irritably as she lounged on the futon in the apartment complex she shared with her sisters, Marigold and Sonia.

"Sisters...I am bored."

The two other women looked up from what they were doing to regard her anxiously; their beautiful, temperamental older sister was renowned for fits of anger when she was not kept amused.

Moving quickly, Marigold seized her purse from beside the stack of bills she and Sonia were steadily working through, and rootled around.

"Here, sister darling. Go shopping. I still have some left on my card..."

Before she could blink, Hancock had swept the Visa from her fingers, kissed both her and Sonia on the cheek, and departed without a word, sweeping her authentic Gucci purse—the one that had caused both her younger sisters to swoon at the sight of the price tag—up from beside the door onto her arm.

Hearing the door click shut, Sonia and Marigold simultaneously let out resigned sighs.

"She'll max out the card again, Mari. We're already fast-approaching dept. What do we do?"

"Pray she doesn't," Marigold muttered grimly.

"Why do we let her walk all over us?"

The two sisters shared a look, and slumped face first onto the kitchen table amidst the stacks of bills.

"Because Mama always did love her best."

-----X3-----

Oblivious to her younger sisters' financial despairing, Hancock strutted down the street, her voluptuous hips swinging—thanks to the dagger-heeled Jimmy Choos she wore—and perused the shops for the most expensive merchandise she could find.

Stepping onto 5th Avenue, she briefly paused to adjust her enormous breasts and to kick a little girl's small puppy under an oncoming taxi ("Who put that filthy little beast in my way?!") before moving on.

It wasn't long until she happened upon a tiny shop wedged between Louis Vuitton and Prada, one that she had not seen previously. A quick sweep of the crystalline windows was a clear enough indication that everything she could buy here amounted to more than a school teacher's annual salary, and Hancock entered Matimli with a self-satisfied smirk.

-----X3-----

Upon exiting Matimli, Hancock swept her luscious black hair over her shoulder proudly, indulging in the delectable sensation of a pair of snug, new pants around her shapely buttocks. Beginning her favourite game, she pulled a stopwatch from her purse, adjusted it, and searched for her first victim.

Passing an old man, she clicked the stopwatch on and turned around only to find him openly gaping at her rear as his feet continued onward. Hancock smirked and checked the stopwatch, blind and deaf to the old man as he suffered a heart attack right there and then and crashed into a garbage can. A nearby pedestrian leapt to his aid.

Even the ambulance sirens could not pull Hancock out of her reverie as she gazed in amazement at the blocky little numbers on the tiny screen.

00:03

Three...three seconds?! Oh my, I just knew these pants would be a good investment.

Chuckling with glee, she left the old man on the pavement to the resuscitation attempts of the paramedics, going off in favour of searching for more men to beguile.

Three hours later, Hancock had thoroughly forgotten she had ever been bored, and a trail of misery followed where she went.

A man with an afro, carrying a violin, distracted by taut glutes under—holy fuck—sheer white pants and a black lace thong, crashed into a pouty-lipped young lady selling Japanese takoyaki, sending her wares flying. Hancock laughed as they scrambled around on their knees after the spilled food, the gentleman apologizing profusely and saying something about panties.

00:03

Next was a blonde teen, his hair styled perfectly over his left eye, with two girls—a redhead and one with a blue dye job—on either arm. They'd passed on the stairs leading into the subway, the boy tripping upwards and blood dripping profusely from his nose as Hancock descended, untroubled.

00:01

On the subway, a green-haired punk with a long, straight case beside his feet sat drinking something foul-smelling next to a young curly-haired boy in a pink hat—presumably his little brother—eating an ice cream. Both choked on their respective treats when Hancock strained to stand upright again in her tight pants, to depart the underground train.

00:06

About three blocks from home, a park had been commandeered for a wedding. When the thug-like groom—also with blue hair—gazed openly in awe at the shapely vision in designer-label jeans, his exotic-looking wife slid a single hand calmly into his black slacks and crushed his vitals in an iron first, successfully regaining his attention.

00:05

Jealous bitch, Hancock trilled internally. She thought it wise not to say it out loud, though. Something about the woman's cool collected look unnerved her.

She was only one block away from home when it happened, when he rounded the corner.

Black shaggy hair framed dark-chocolate eyes—a small scar livid under the left one—that twinkled mischievously in a face split by a roguish grin.

Hancock blinked in surprise.

He was gorgeous, in a strange, awkward-teen sort of way; tall and lean—almost gangly, his limbs were like rubber—with decent abs peeking out from the open front of a cut-up hoodie.

He was shorter than Hancock was by a long shot, even if she hadn't been wearing stilettos and he scuffed-up flip-flops, and the boy loped along with a casual laziness that suited him, a stark contrast to Hancock's controlled, arrogant strut.

With the hoodie and flip-flops, he wore tattered capris hanging obscenely low on his hips, and a black wristband on his right arm. Strangest of all, perhaps, was the straw hat nestled against the back of his neck, held there by a slim leather cord.

Hancock was ashamed as she felt her face heat up, and she fought to quell the butterflies in her stomach when she fumbled for the stopwatch. She'd show him. She'd...she'd show this...this...straw hat boy...yes indeed, Strawhat...he would have a better reaction than the rest of them...he'd whip around and beg her to be his, hands making ridiculous little pawing gestures as he fantasized about her body, drool dripping from his lips as she viciously shut him down.

A small sigh of satisfaction crossed her lips as she passed him. The stopwatch clicked, and she turned her head, awaiting his reaction.

Strawhat just kept on walking.

She frowned in bemusement, and slowed her pace, almost coming to a complete stop. She gave a quick bootie wiggle, thinking the movement would draw his eye.

He remained completely oblivious.

A call rang out further down the street.

Another boy, dressed in khakis and a white, long-sleeved shirt, stood outside a cafe, grinning and waving. Hancock supposed he was alright-looking, with his coffee-coloured skin, thick, curly, ebony hair, and fabulous eyelashes. Nothing spectacular though, especially not with that nose.

Strawhat heard his call and grinned wider, if such a feat was possible, speeding up until he drew next to the dark-skinned boy.

"Hey."

Hancock squeaked when Strawhat grasped the other boy's chin tenderly with his fingers and tilted his head to mash their lips together in a long, open-mouthed kiss.

-----X3-----

When Sonia and Marigold heard the door crash open, they feared the worse and leapt to their feet, hoping to calm their sister before she flew into a rage and trashed the entire apartment. The last time it had happened...well...they'd been forced to move.

Their surprise was imminent when she pushed past them, eyes wide and unseeing, threw herself at the kitchen table, almost toppling the mountains of bills, to grab at a newspaper. Muttering to herself, Hancock seized a pen from the depths of her cleavage, slumped onto the futon and started pouring over the newspaper feverishly.

When she looked up again, to stare aimlessly out of the window, her sisters noticed the tracks of blood trailing from her nostrils, down over her lips and chin, dripping down her neck to stop at her collar bone.

Alarmed, they were by her side in an instant, cooing frantically and pulling out tissues to dab at the blood ineffectually.

"Sister! What on earth..."

"Are you hurt?!"

Hancock battered their hands away.

"I'm getting a job."

They were stunned into silence.

"A...a...job, sister?"

"Yes. A job."

She turned back to the newspaper. Her younger sisters shared a look.

"Um...where, might I ask, sister?"

Hancock looked back up and said, in all seriousness:

"A gay bar."

-----X3-----

If you're wondering what the hell I'm supposed to be parodying, here's your answer.

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=xg9AnMfJsnM

Luffy's outfit comes from the sixth movie, Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island. Usopp's outfit is from a chapter-page picture Oda-sama drew once. Rest assured; they both look insanely hot.

Just a little indulgence in a not-so-well-known-favourite-pairing of mine. XD