Just posting this for a friend . . .
Surgeon General's Warning:
Consuming alcohol may actually cause pregnancy. The content of this
cannister is not suitable for consumption by individuals under forty-two.
Read with an open mind, and don't take this seriously. Don't sue us, 'cause
we're poor.
***
PROLOGUE BEGIN
***
"So you're telling me that you saw two guys come outta
this place, go around the corner, and disappear?"
"Yeah."
***
Expecting a Ranma fic? . . . What? You weren't? Oh
well . . .
***
"Now you wanna see what's inside?"
"It's healthy to keep up-to-date on international
conspiracies."
***
See, this fic has little, if anything, to do with Ranma.
Watch your step, though. You don't wanna fall into that
pool of water over there.
***
"Bullshit. It sounds like you're following two street
magicians."
"No, I swear. It's true."
***
First off, the place it's set in is New York. Great place, it
is. Even if there *are* alligators and other nasty things in
the sewers,
***
"How do you know?"
"Those two guys just appeared in the alley behind you."
He turned and looked.
"Ehh?"
***
And yeah, try to ignore the UFO in the background,
there. That's a glitch . . .
***
"Hmm . . . It's gotta be *somewhere* around here."
"You tried that door yet?"
"Er, no."
"Ahh. Here it goes."
The two rang the door bell.
*Ding*Dong*
***
Not *that* type of Ding-dong. Wrong kind of fic.
***
Silence.
"Well, Stan. That was lame."
"Wasn't it, though. Couldn't they have used a better
sounding bell?"
"Like what?"
"You know, the Whoopee-Cushion bell I saw in the
catalog last time."
"Uhh . . . yeah. Whatever."
***
My oh my . . . is it an SI?
Hey, that rhymed.
***
The door opened.
"Hello," said the woman inside. "The Oracle is expecting
you."
"Sure took you long enough."
"Uhh . . . Stan?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you *sure* about this?"
"Yeah. Let's go in."
***
You recognize the series? You think so?
***
"Wait here."
"Umm . . . Sure."
There was a kid playing with a spoon.
"Hey look. It's a kid playing with a spoon"
"Chad?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
"Ahh."
Stan looked at the kid.
"Hey kid. What are you doing with that spoon? Don'tcha
know it's dangerous? My cousi-"
The spoon twisted in ways cold metal isn't supposed to.
"Cool, Stan. The kid's got like TK . . . I want a spoon
like that!"
The kid looked at them, and began to speak solemnly:
"There is no spoon."
***
It *is* that, right? What you think it is?
The answer is, not quite.
***
"Give me that," said Stan as he grabbed the spoon.
He held it up.
"Watch."
Chad watched as the spoon began to to wiggle around.
"Whoah. You can do it too?"
"No."
"Then, how --"
"This is a prop spoon."
"Ahh . . . "
The kid smiled and took out a fork. The fork began
growing.
"What the fork???"
***
Ramma? Not a chance!
EVA? You're cold!
Slayers? Well, maybe-no
***
The kid looked at them with a stare so cold it froze
helium. "There is no fork. Everything is my delusion."
Chad and Stan looked at each other with confused
glances, not unlike a chicken staring into a mirror.
Chad spoke with awe, "Wish my dick can do that."
"It can, your dick is a delusion!"
"That wasn't what I meant!"
The maid came back, "the Oracle will see you
now. This way please."
Into the big room they went.
"Hello my children. Would you like a cookie?"
They came, they saw, they screamed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHH"
They ran.
And they ran.
And they ran.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS?" Chad shouted to
Stan as they ran past the muggers of New York
City. Not an easy task accomplished everyday.
"MARTHA STEWART! I CAN'T STAND HER
COOKIES!"
***
No not quite exactly.
I mean yeah we've had bad days.
But today is exceptional.
***
"Huff huff huff, Stan where are we?" Chad looked
around, it didn't look much like New York anymore.
"I don't know," Stan panted back. "We are probably in
some suburb or something."
They looked around more, and they remembered.
"Stan."
"Yes?"
"Didn't we run past some kinda border guard or
something."
"I think so."
"And I think when we were running on the highway, we
were running NORTH!"
"So we're probably in Maine."
"Stan, why would there be border guards between
states?"
"Unless....NO! YOU DON'T SUPPOSE!"
"I.....I think so...."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
***
Yes it's dreadful.
Just like a nightmare come true.
But me,
You know me.
No more bitch-slapping US pies.
This time,
It's a counterattack.
***
PROLOGUE END -Go figure it out! Check a map if
you must!!