In order to make amends to Alan, who had EVERY right
to be pissed with me for my off-topic posts, I'm sending
everyone part - the FINISHED part, at least - of Pagliacci,
chapter 5.
Writing hasn't been easy. I'm afraid my recent troubles
and the betrayal and theft by someone I thought I could trust
have caused my writing to become more than a little shakey.
So, for those of you reading this, I'd be most grateful
if you'd be harsher than usual with your C&C. My vision is..
clouded, and I need the extra help.
To Alan, himself: I'm sorry. It would be the hight of
redundancy to tell you that these past two weeks haven't
been easy. And the fact that the resulting stress has caused
me to make stupid errors of judgement is only an explanation,
NOT an excuse. Mea culpa, Alan. And thank you for your
generosity in this matter.
Edward Becerra.
No fancy .sig this time. I'm too tired.
* * * * * * * * * *
12:36 AM 4/7/00
Ranma 1/2 characters and situations are copyright 1987, 1999 by
Takahashi Rumiko. Publishing rights (Japan) by Shogakukan Inc.
Publishing rights (North America) by Viz Inc. This work is not
intended to infringe those rights.
***************************************************************
Pagliacci - A story of the world of Ranma 1/2
Chapter 5
***************************************************************
Irwin Schwab had trouble dealing with linear logic.
At least, that was the polite way of saying it. A somewhat
more blunt person would describe Irwin as a candidate for permanent
sedation and confinement.
Then again, Irwin himself went around telling people that he'd
been raised by a television set.
Not that his parents had used one to babysit him, mind you. That
his parent _WAS_ a television set. If anything, that sort of defines
just how far out Master Schwab's mind was.
Anyway...
Irwin was happy. It had been MONTHS since the last time he'd had
a chance to be a sidekick to the Man Of Steel. (The Man of Steel had
thought of him as something other than a sidekick, but the words
Kal-El _wanted_ to use were, for the most part, the sort that would
have caused Mrs. Kent to wash his mouth out with soap.)
Now that WONDERFUL person, Sideshow Bob, had found him another
hero he could be a sidekick to! Oh, Glorious DAY!
He started to pack a small suitcase, then stopped. If he could
teleport to Japan (and he could), then he could teleport BACK just
as easily. Hey, Japan could be a daily _commute_! PERFECT! He didn't
even have to move out of his apartment!
There was a soft *pop* of displaced air, and Irwin Schwab
vanished. About thirty minutes later, in a similar *pop*, he
re-appeared, a confused look on his face.
"What's a passport?"
* * *
The ancient and honorable job of sidewalk superintendent
is pretty much a universal one, known to all mankind. The urge to
stop and stare at a building being constructed, demolished,
or renovated rests deep within the breast of every human on earth.
The Japanese are simply more POLITE about it than most.
However, the building being renovated on Nerima's Ginza was
different. Even for Nerima.
"Martial Arts Construction, you think?"
"Don't be silly. There's no such thing."
"You practice Tea Ceremony martial arts.."
"That's.. well, that's different."
"I don't know what it is, but he's pretty good with those
shuriken."
"I think those are nails."
"I've heard of breaking bricks with your bare hands, but welding
them back _together_?"
"Do you think he'd take students?"
A young man in a leather jacket cruised by on a cheap
motorcycle, then returned for a closer look.
"Hey, there, ya old man! What are you, some kinda fool? Think
you can rebuild that old place all by yoursel..*Urk*"
A few bystanders blinked. One whistled softly.
"Wow. I've _heard_ gaijin say 'stick a brick in it', but I never
thought I'd ever actually see.."
"Yeah. He even used mortar. That's got to hurt."
"Shouldn't someone call him a doctor?"
"Or a dentist?"
"I dunno. Don't you think calling a bricklayer would be more
appropriate?"
In Nerima, even the buildings took part in the local insanity.
* * *
Seamus grinned and wiped the sweat from his brow, staring at the
repairs he'd just finished. Lilac came outside and joined him.
"Not bad for an old man, eh, Lilac?"
"Old man my ass, Seamus. You're younger than I am."
The American laughed. "That's not saying much, given that we're
both older than dirt."
Lilac gave him a nasty look, then burst out laughing herself.
"True enough." She waved a cell-phone at him. "The public utilities
people will be here shortly to get the gas, power and water turned
on. You ready for them?"
"Was there ever any doubt?" smirked Seamus.
"Only as to the size of your ego, old man," giggled Lilac.
"That reminds me. Where are the kids?"
"I sent Rin and Ran over to the Cat Cafe. I've got a feeling
that the girls the Council and I sent after that boy will likely
show up there, sooner or later. When they do, I want them here."
Seamus raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know? More important,
do I _need_ to know?"
Lilac frowned slightly. "It's bad enough with three young
Amazons running around Nerima, even with Cologne and I keeping them
under our thumbs, so to speak. A dozen more, with no Elder to ride
herd on them? Think it through for yourself, Seamus."
"Nope. No way. I still remember what happened when that husband
hunting party of yours ran into the Flying Tigers. Wasn't pretty."
Seamus shook his head. "The sooner you get them under control,
the better. In fact, now that you mention it, I have this sinking
feeling that trouble's going to be following them to our doorstep."
"So what else is new?" snorted the Amazon Elder. "And I'll be
needing your help controlling them."
"Won't there be a little problem with my gender, old friend?"
"First girl that mouths off to you, male or not, I expect you to
tie them into a bow knot and play 'just how high into the sky can I
kick you?' with them, Seamus. You're a Master of your school, and
just as much entitled to respect as I or Cologne are." She frowned,
then continued on. "If these kids don't learn that the world doesn't
begin and end with the laws of our village, they won't last very long
in Japan."
Seamus nodded. "This is going to make a lovely mess."
"And you wouldn't have it any other way."
"Awwww, you noticed. I'm touched."
* * *
*thud*
*thud*
*thud*
Maiku Kanazuchi was busy destroying a small concrete pillar
covered with advertising posters. In traditional Neriman style, he
was doing so by beating the pillar to death with his forehead.
I hate my life, he thought. Why did I EVER take this stupid
case?
The sight of a flying minotaur overhead had startled Maiku.
What he found even more unsettling was the fact that no one on the
street seemed even slightly surprised. Even the officer in the local
police box did nothing more than check his wrist watch and mutter
something about pantyhose and "..he's early this month."
Maiku paused in his self-abuse and started across the street
to ask the officer just what the HELL was going on. Hopefully,
he might even get some information that might help him with his case.
That's when the stampede of women screaming for Happosai's
blood (and various body parts) ran over him in the middle of the
crosswalk.
"I think I'll just lie here and bleed for a while," he mumbled.
Fortunately, the officer in the nearby police box pulled him to
safety and called a doctor.
It was while Doctor Tofu (Tofu? wondered Maiku) was bandaging
him that he was treated to a brief lecture on magical curses,
Jyusenkyo waters (both varieties, Instant and Permanent), chi-blasts,
and a variety of other oddities that had been but briefly touched
upon by both the newspapers and Cologne.
"What kind of insanity IS this?" gritted the detective as Tofu
applied salve to a deep puncture wound in his calf.
"Off hand, from the looks of the wound, I'd say it was a
stiletto heel with a steel cap and pink patent leather.. oh. You mean
Nerima?"
"OF COURSE I MEAN NERIMA!"
"You needn't shout," replied Tofu in his calm bedside manner.
"I'M NOT.. shouting. Oh." Maiku bit his lip and tried to regain
his temper. "So, you're saying that _all_ of Nerima is basically
just as insane as Tomobiki?"
Tofu rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, we don't have Oni
princesses visiting on a regular basis, but we do have
vengeance-crazed martial artists arrive all the time, and the
occasional Chinese/Indian/Tibetan/Nepalese/minor-kingdom
that you've-never-even-heard-of princes do show up every few months
or so. Usually to marry or kill someone. Often both at once.
Occasionally, they even want to marry AND kill the same person."
"Excuse me?" blinked Maiku.
"Jyusenkyo curses," said Tofu sagely.
"Ahhh..." Then Maiku's shoulders slumped. "I never EVER should
have taken this case."
"Case?" asked Tofu.
Maiku shook his head. "Professional courtesy, Doc. You don't
blab about your patients, I don't blab about my clients. You know?"
It was Tofu's turn to nod. "In that case, Kanazuchi-san,
I believe I have something you need." He turned to a glass-fronted
cabinet and removed a large canister. Measuring out some of the
contents, he poured them into a small paper sack which he handed
to Maiku. "Two spoonfuls to a cup of hot water. Let it steep for at
least two minutes. Have one cup in the morning, and one in the
evening."
Maiku stared at the bag. "What is it?"
"The official morning drink of the people of Nerima. Trust me,
it works wonders. Just don't drink more than two cups a day, and heed
the warning label. Don't attempt to fly under your own power or try
to outrun a locomotive. Trying to outrun streetcars is silly, but
safe."
Maiku took the bag gingerly, noting the label on the canister
it had come from. "Packaged in Nerima. You know, that really explains
a lot."
Tofu smiled. "Yes, it does, doesn't it."
* * *
Gosunkugi took a deep breath and prepared himself for desperate
combat. The UPS driver had just arrived with a package.
"Oh Hi-chan!" caroled his mother. She held a small box wrapped
in brown paper in her hands. The battle was joined.
"Mother.. PLEASE! No more!"
Oichi's eyes narrowed, and she went straight for the big guns.
"WAAAAAAHHHHHH! My son doesn't love me any more! WAHHHHHHH!"
Hikaru immediately began to crumble under the assault. "I'm
SORRY! I'm SORRY! I'll wear it!"
The tears vanished almost magically, and his mother held the box
out to him. "I'm certain you'll love it, Hi-chan! It's MOST
heroic-looking."
Having seen an ad for a certain imported movie circled in
yesterday's paper, Gos immediately suspected what was in the box.
When he opened it, he wasn't disappointed.
"Momma, it's against the LAW to own a leopard skin. It's an
endangered species!"
Oichi smiled seraphically. "I thought of that. It's faux fur!
Now, go put it on. I want to see how HANDSOME you look in it,
Hi-chan!"
Grumbling, Gos headed for his bedroom, cursing the names of
Edgar Rice Burroughs, Walt Disney, all animated movies, Africa in
general, and idiotic gaijin who got lost in the jungle and raised
by apes in particular.
Behind him, his mother was hugging herself, visions of her son
single-handedly rescuing thousands of people filling her mind. (And,
of course, visions of all those people worshipping HER for having
had the courage and skill to bring such a hero into the world.)
Gos re-emerged from his bedroom wearing the fake leopard-skin
loincloth, his body one giant rose-red blush. "Momma, I look like
George of the Jungle!"
Gos then froze in horror as his mother's face was swept with a
thoughtful look.
"Elephants.. where can I find trained elephants?"
Definitely time to get Ranma to kill me, thought Gos.
* * *