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Tsunade 6 (end!)
Third Person

Hell Hath No Fury...

"Goddamn it. Son of a fucking--grrrRR.... that IDIOT!" Tsunade growled through clenched teeth, trying to control herself and not curse too loudly. She had a patient waiting for her on the phone, after all. The eighth one that morning. With the same complaint.

A raging yeast infection.

Obviously something fishy was going on here. Tsunade had managed to pin down the source of the epidemic after grilling the fourth girl about all her past week's activities. As soon as she mentioned the soda commercial that the other three had also participated in, warning signals started going off in Tsunade's head. When the girl went on to explain that she'd had soda fizz on her nether region and had gotten into a pool full of soda pop, the little vein throbbing in Tsunade's forehead threatened to burst like a million tiny carbonated bubbles all rising to the surface at once.

Whoever had the idea to put naked girls into a pool brimming with soda pop was a gigantic moron and Tsunade wanted nothing better than to punch him--it had to be a man--in the face. Or maybe the nuts. It'd be sweet justice, after all. Make his reproductive organs ache as much as those poor girls' were right now.

She slammed her fist down on her desk instead, then took a deep breath, smiled, and picked up the phone she'd set aside. "Sorry for the wait. I'm all booked up through the end of this month. You were in the soda commercial, right? Uh-huh. Yeah, just," Tsunade exhaled in irritation, knuckles whitening as her grip on the receiver tensed, "just stop by the clinic and pick up some antibiotics. No, you don't need an appointment."

Tsunade let the phone clatter down into its cradle, glaring at it as if daring it to ring again. How many girls had been in that commercial anyway; half the staff of Feel Good, Inc.? Nevermind, she didn't really want to know.

No one looked after these girls, or the boys for that matter, let alone themselves. So it fell to Tsunade to make sure, at least after the fact, that they were taken care of. But damn it, did they all have to get sick on her at once? It tested what little patience she had.

The man who thought this commercial up had just better hope Tsunade never found out his identity. Her lips quirked in a sadistic smirk, one eyebrow still twitching irritatedly. He'd feel her sweet justice, all right. A punch to the nuts followed by soaking his bruised cock in soda pop. Let him feel that misery exactly for himself. Oh, men could get yeast infections. And if left untreated, it was even more disgusting and painful than a woman's... teach him to think about the actresses' safety first next time.

Damn. Not even noon and already Tsunade needed drink. Of something much stronger than soda pop.


OOC Notes: I can write non-angry Tsunade too, this is just what came out. >_> If you want other samples, I can whip something else up as well. Just let me know; I'm flexible!