Araturiel

Note: As always, please read authour's notes before reading.
WARNING: THIS STORY IS EXTREMELY DISTURBING (to some) and may cause you to never look at Sai the same way again.
Everyone in Konoha was mystified by the mysterious persona of Sai. They couldn't figure out his blank-eyed smiles, or his odd way of speech, or his unique, belly-baring top. Thus, they gossiped about him constantly, and thus, Sai was sad.
He tried not to let it bother him, though. And he had a surefire way to distract himself.
Sai had a secret world.
He was but a wee lad when he discovered this place. Danzou had been harping on him as usual, and he had decided to run away. He had been found eventually, of course, but his retreat had always remained special in his mind.
That is where he was headed now.
He left the Konoha gates discreetly, heading straight through the forest. In his pocket he held his beloved ink and paintbrush, affectionately nicknamed Fuzzy and Wuzzy…the paintbrush being Fuzzy. As he journeyed to h

Note: I suggest you read the Artist's Comments before you embark on this...adventure. ~_^
Once upon a time in the land of SweetSucculentPickles, there was a purple tennis racket named Horace. Horace was deeply depressed. His strings had been snapped by a pair of rogue rubber gloves named Carl and Snarl. This had been painful and caused Horace much misery. THUS: he decided to SEEK THEM OUT and VANQUISH THEM.
"I need a sidequick!" Horace thought frantically. "But who??" As if on cue, his kitchen door opened and with a loud clanking, three objects and Sephiroth walked in.
"Sephiroth's Choose-a-Sidequick Service at your service!" Sephiroth announced loudly, brandishing a sparkly purple microphone. "You can easily choose your ideal sidequick from THREEEEE spiffy candidates—and heeeeeere they are!!"
Horace's kitchen lamp took on a life of its own and swiveled to illuminate the first candidate, a golf club. "Buck is a 5-iron whose greatest ambition is to be a 6-iron!" the disembodied v

Once upon a time in the country of Texas
There was a girl named Stephie with a mutated nerve plexus
It affected, however, not her nerves but her hair
A problem which began a most unfortunate affair
For starters, Stephie was stubborn as an mule
To her, her follicles were as precious as jewels
So whenever others implored her with combs
And scissors, Stephie would say "Leave me alone!
I don't want my hair touched. Won't you go away?
If you don't you'll be served on a cafeteria tray!"
And thus Stephie's hair began growing and growing
So when she had dandruff it was like it was snowing
It became a long mat, an extraordinary train
That turned into pure frizz when she was stuck in the rain
Objects got caught up into this mass
A Frisbee, a kitten, a Sunday School class
They were all dragged behind as Stephie went places
And showers were difficult, as shampoo in their faces
Caused allergic reactions, and so they did rap
"How can we get out of this flea-bitten trap?
We can't use scissors since o