Part Three B of _Comes the Cold Dragon is brought to you by
www.sofaspud.org.
 
 
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       Most of the characters in this piece, and the setting
for it, were conceived of by Rumiko Takahashi for her
Ranma1/2 series of Manga. All such characters and the setting
are the property of Takahashi-san and her licensees. All
other characters in the piece are purely fictional and any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, are purely
coincidental.

 

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Comes the Cold Dragon: Part 3b Rewrite 1
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His name is Norio Ohga. He is the one with the quick reflexes
and no sense of humor. His partner's name is Tetsuro
Shirikawa. His reflexes are fast, but not as fast as Ohga's.
His is the brighter mind of the pair. They went to high
school together.  They dated the same girls. They both loved
to drive fast. That is why they went to the police academy
together. So they could take turns driving fast legally. So
that they could take turns driving fast legally in a car that
was made to go fast from scratch that they would not have to
pay for. They love their job. They even love the people they
pull over. They especially love the truckers and the
motorcyclists. They love the motorcyclists the most because
the motorcyclists usually give them an excuse to drive really
fast, but they do dearly love truckers. Oh, Kami-sama! They
love truckers almost as much as dogs love trucks. They are
behind one now on this fine, clear Wednesday morning after
Akane's aborted wedding. They are following a tank truck
headed west on the expressway in the northwestern quadrant of
Tokyo. The truck is traveling along at one hundred and five
kilometers per hour, fifteen kilometers per hour faster than
the law allows a truck to travel on Tokyo's express ways.
 
       "Okay, Norio! I got him," Shirikawa says as he looks
up from his little laptop, "He's Yoshinao Nakada and we've
busted him before. His log book is  never in order. Blip
'em!"
 
        Ohga steers a little to the right so that he can see
the trucker's mirror, then turns on the prowler's flashers
and blips the siren. The trucker responds immediately with
his left blinker and backs out of his throttle. Ohga slows
the prowler in sync. The trucker pulls his rig over onto the
shoulder and stops, then turns on his emergency flashers.
 
       "I'll do the talkin' this time, Norio old buddy. Keep
your seat."
 
       "Why you?"
 
       "'Cause we don't need another collar this week, that's
why."
 
        Ohga gives forth with an exasperated sigh, but makes
no objection. Shirikawa gets out of the prowler and
approaches the truck. Nakada is already holding his logbook
and licenses out the window.
 
       "Hey, howzit goin', Yoshi?"
 
       "Oh, it's been a pretty good day so far, Officer,"
Nakada says.
 
       "Is yer logbook in order?"
 
       "Oh, I think so. I ain't as good at math as I used to
be."
 
       "Well I guess I'd better give it a quick audit then,
hadn't I?"
 
       "I reckon that'd be best, Officer."
 
        Shirikawa opens the logbook. There are two five-
thousand yen notes bound to the second page with a paper
clip. Shirikawa slips the bills into his shirt pocket, then
begins filling out a form on his clipboard.
  
       "Oi! Yoshi"
 
       "Yes, sir?"
 
       "You do realize how fast you was goin', right?"
 
       "I wuz only doin' a hunnert and five!"
 
       "Yoshi, Yoshi, Yoshi! You know you aren't s'posed
drive this thing over ninety!"
 
       "Aw, come on, boss! I got forty-thousand liters o'
milk in this thing. You want the school kids ta do wi'out
milk?"
 
       "What can I say, Yoshi? The law's the law. Tell you
what, since you been so nice about it, I'm gonna let you off
with a warnin' this time, okay?"
 
       "I really appreciate that, Officer. I promise to keep
an eye on my speedometer from now on."
 
       "I'm sure you will, Yoshi! Sign here."
 
        Nakada doesn't look all that happy, but he signs the
citation and hands the clipboard back down. Shirikawa tears
out Nakada's copy and hands it up to him.
 
       "Drive carefully, Yoshi!"
       
       "I will, boss."
       
        Shirikawa returns to the prowler with a spring in his
step. Once inside he hands Ohga one of the five-thousand yen
notes. Ohga grunts and puts the money in his pocket.
 
       "I'll be glad when ball season starts," Ohga says.
 
       "Not me. I'd rather have the money."
 
        A motorcycle whips by fast enough to rock the
prowler.
 
        Shirikawa barks like a dog. Ohga grins and tramps
down on the prowler's accelerator.
 
       "It's a beautiful day, Tetsu!"
 
        Shirikawa barks again as he flips on the prowler's
flashers and siren.
 
       "Woof! Woof, woof! Woof!"
 
       "Have I called you an idiot today?"
 
       "Woof?"
 
       "You _are_ an idiot."
 
       "Woof!"
        
      
                            -----------
                

        Xian Pu made it to Nerima's little fish market with
her second set of orders on time, despite the rear wheel of
her bicycle rubbing against the frame. The men here were all
large and well muscled, and all of them appreciated Xian Pu
for more than just the food she delivered. Several had asked
if she were married, many more did not seem to care. One of
them foolishly tried to pat her butt. Xian Pu seized his hand
with thumb and forefinger, applying just enough pressure to
the right places to make the big man drop to his knees.
 
       "That not nice! You no be good little boy, you have
big troubles!" Xian Pu said, leaning so close to the man that
their noses nearly touched.
 
        The man made a little squeaking noise and nodded his
head. The rest of the men roared with laughter. Xian Pu took
it all in stride on the surface, but inside she was
thoroughly frustrated. She wished Ranma would react to her
the way these men did, but Ranma was not the weakling these
men were. Xian Pu was fairly certain the every man in Japan
except Ranma was silly in this way. All of them were
weaklings, ruled by their testicles. There was not a one she
had seen that she could not charm out of his britches. They
were more foolish than Muu Su, letting their glands run their
lives for them.  Ranma, though, was different. He had not
shown the first sign of weakness to this day. Sooner or later
though, she would wear him down. All she needed to do was to
make sure he stayed single until the temptation became too
much. Then, after Xian Pu got through with him, he would beg
to be taken back to China.  She was determined that she would
not share the fate two of her friends had suffered. They had
been defeated by men that refused to marry them because they
had been too easily defeated. Their shame was so great that
they had cut their hair and taken jobs working for Revered
Grandmother in the archives. The Joketsu did not dominate
their men by force. Force was useless against a man worth
having.
 
        With deliveries made and money collected, she began
her trip back to the Nekohanten. Thanks to the problem with
the rear wheel of her bicycle, this proved troublesome. She
could have just resorted to applying enough power to the
pedals to overcome the friction, but she knew from previous
experience that this did bad things to the tires. She hated
riding a bicycle with a flat, especially a rear flat. A front
flat she could cope with rather easily, but the rear tire
caused too much trouble when it was flat. Gritting her teeth,
she took her time getting back to the restaurant.
 
       "Tadaima!"
 
       "Hello, Xian Pu," Ko Lon said as she set a bowl of
ramen and a quart pitcher of cool water on the bar. "Eat now.
You won't have time later. Drink as much of that water as you
can as well."
 
       "Is like battle!"
 
        Ko Lon cackled. "So it is, child. So it is."
 
       "Xian Pu having troubles with bicycle, Great-
grandmother."
 
       "Muu Su!"
 
       "I'm on it!"
 
        Muu Su grabbed his pliers and both of his
screwdrivers, the only tools he had, then went outside. Ko
Lon watched him go, muttering under his breath. I guess I
really should buy him a decent set of tools, she thought.
He's learned more than enough about making do.
 
       "Have list, Great-grandmother?"
 
       "Here you go, child."
 
        Xian Pu took the list and read as she ate.
 
       "One of these is a special delivery, Xian Pu. I want
you to be extra careful with this particular customer."
 
       "Okay, Great-grandmother. What you want Xian Pu to
do?" Xian Pu took a deep breath through her nose. "What that
smell? You bake bread? Soup smell funny, too."
       
       "Yes, child. Now listen carefully..."
           
      
                           -----------
 
               
       
        Nabiki decided to skip school once she got a look at
what was left of Miyagi's. Nearly every last yen of her cut
from the betting pools and every other scam she had going
this week would now be poured into the bedraggled sake
parlor. It was infuriating. This week promised to be a record
and she wouldn't see a dime of it, thanks to Happosai. She
caught the bus and got off at the stop nearest post office.
She needed cash for Happosai's bail.  She did not expect to
be getting him out of jail today, but it never hurt to be
prepared. He might agree to whatever she demanded without
encouragement. Cash in hand, she caught another bus and rode
it to the stop nearest the Nerima Ward's police station.
Hopefully, they would still be holding the old man there. If
she did not get him out today, they would probably transfer
him downtown. Getting the old pervert out after that would
just about double the expense, but Nabiki was very much
inclined to let him go there and stay cooped up with nothing
but men for company for a week or so. The authorities could
hold him for up to twenty-days without even allowing him a
phone call if they wanted, but then they might turn around
and bill him for his stay in their luxurious accommodations.
They almost never did such a thing of course, but they could
anytime it suited them. It was one of the cops' favorite
threats against chronic brawlers.
 
        The desk sergeant recognized Nabiki when she walked
in, even though it had been a while. Yes, she could see
Happosai. Sure, they could transfer him downtown and hold him
for a few days if she wanted them too. The old man had been
getting on their nerves for the past few months anyway. No,
they wouldn't say anything to Happi. Great idea to let him to
stew in the dark for a few days. How was Genma? Oh, he was in
the zoo again. Big laugh. Soun's in bed again, right? Another
big laugh. 
 
        Happosai clanked and rattled out into the visitors
area wearing the two-hundred kilograms of chain suit that the
Nerima Ward station had gone to the trouble and expense of
having made special, just for Happosai. He did not look very
happy.
 
       "Good morning, Ojiisan!" Nabiki said cheerfully.
 
       "Hello, Nabiki."
 
       "How was breakfast?" she asked. She knew full well
they did not serve breakfast in jail. Prisoners got two meals
a day. One at noon and one at six in the evening. Her asking
did not improve Happosai's moral any, which was exactly what
she wanted.
 
       "You know they don't serve breakfast in this place!"
 
       "I'm sorry, Ojiisan," Nabiki said contritely as she
struggled to suppress a smirk. "I forgot."
 
       "How come they put me in a cell instead of the drunk
tank?"
 
       "You mean you don't know?"
 
       "Know what?" Happosai asked, very clearly alarmed.
 
       "They are charging you with indecent exposure."
 
       "What? Why?"
 
       "They said nice young ladies like me shouldn't have to
listen to sordid details."
 
       "Nice my ass! I wanna know what's going on."
 
       "Now, Gramps!"
 
       "Well find out!"
 
       "I tried, but they won't tell me anything. You'll just
have to ask them yourself."
 
       "They won't talk to me. They haven't told me anything
other than tellin' me to hire a lawyer!"
 
       "Ooh, sounds expensive."
 
       "What about bail?"
 
       "I don't have it."
 
       "What do you mean you don't have it?"
 
       "Well, they said if Miyagi didn't press charges they
would go a little easier on you, so I have to make sure his
place gets fixed, right?"
 
       "Oh, boy."
 
       "Uh, huh. And you remember that little bomb you
clobbered Ranma with?"
 
       "Yeah, so?"
 
       "So, it did something funny to his head. He's lost
control of his ki. Now every time he goes to sleep, he
generates cold ki."
 
       "Cold ki? So? What's that got to do with the price of
tea?"
 
       "Last night he generated so much cold ki that Tofu's
clinic collapsed."
 
       "Oh, shit!" Happosai looked more than a little alarmed
by this.
 
       "I thought that, but didn't say it. As you can
imagine, we're a little short on cash at the moment."
       
       "Oh, shit!" Happosai clapped both his hands on the top
of his bald head. "Oh, dear!"
 
        Nabiki did her best Kasumi imitation.  "They said you
would be transferred downtown this afternoon. You ought to be
happy about that. They said the food is a lot better there."
 
        Happosai turned green. This did not surprise Nabiki
at all. The jail downtown was always overcrowded, usually
three prisoners to a cell. While Happosai had little to fear
from even the worst of that lot, the prospect of being
confined in a small space with two other men would probably
make him ill.
       
       "Is there someone I can call for you?"
 
        Happosai turned purple.
 
       "You aren't going to help me at all, are you?"
 
       "I'll do everything I can, Ojiisan, but there isn't
much I can do."
 
       "Surely you've found out how much it is going to take
to get me out of here!"
 
       "Mmm, hmm."
 
       "Well how much?" Happosai nearly screamed.
 
       "Only ten-million yen."
 
       "Ten-million yen!"
 
       "Uh, huh. Something about what happened to the jail
the last time you were in here." This was ridiculous of
course. Repairs to the jail were a normal part of the city
budget, but it never hurt to browbeat Happosai whenever you
got him over a barrel.
 
       "Oh, boy."
 
       "I don't know how you did it, Gramps, but you managed
to piss off just about everybody in Nerima this week."
 
       "I guess I have been overdoing it a little."
 
       "You might say that, yes."
 
       "You're pissed at me, too."
 
       "Me? Never. I just stay out of the way and enjoy the
show."
 
       "All right. You win, Nabiki. You know where my seal
is."
 
       "Yes."
 
       "Do you still have my account number?"
 
       "Of course."
 
       "How long will it take to get me out?"
 
       "Ten days, I think."
 
       "Ten days!"
 
       "They really are pissed this time, Gramps."
 
       "Damn!"
 
       "Gotta run!"
 
       "Just be sure you don't take anymore than I need from
that account! It earns good interest."
 
       "Have I ever cheated you?"
 
       "No, you just take advantage of an old man's folly
that's all."
 
       "That's what pretty girls like me are for, Gramps,"
Nabiki said with a winning smile.
 
       "Get me out of here as quick as you can, Nabiki. I
don't think I can stand ten days of nothing but men.!"
 
       "I'll try my best, Ojiisan!" Nabiki said as she got up
and undulated towards the door. Happosai's chains began
rattling.
 
        Nabiki left chuckling to herself. This little snafu
was only going to cost about five-million yen, but now she
would have enough reserve to cover the next phase of this
still unfolding disaster--she hoped. Things would without
doubt become exciting again once Ranma was out of the clinic
and Happosai was out of jail. Well, both of them would need a
week or so to recharge once they got out, but chances were
good that more money would be needed. Nabiki did not really
mind the trouble. She just considered it to be training. The
founder of the Anything Goes School of Capitalism needed to
be the best at her Chosen Art, ne?
 
        Riding on the bus she started thinking about the
tapes of Akane's recent clash with the Hentai Brigade. She
had a potential best-seller there if she could improve it a
little. Quite a few people had asked about it already. It
needed editing and a good sound track. She began replaying
the videos in her head, thinking about what needed to be cut
and what sort of transitions to use between edits. During
this process, a violent piece of organ music came to mind,
but it took a while for her to remember the title. It was
Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. She remembered that an
old movie with lots of fight scenes had used Bach's
masterpiece for its musical theme. It had been a good choice
and would work beautifully again. She whipped out one of her
cellular telephones and called Gosunkugi. He was good with
video. All she had to do was give him a general idea of what
she wanted. The sooner he got to work on it, the sooner they
could start making more money from video sales.
 
          
      
                             -----------
 
               
 
        It became considerably easier to study once
Uchigawa's work crews installed a temporary partition between
the lobby and the rest of the building. He even erected a
temporary stairway with his scaffolding so his men could go
through a second story window rather than use the stairwell
inside. Surprisingly, few of Tofu's patients seemed to mind
all that much. Several came in and caught up on overdue
bills. Still it was not quite enough to give Ranma Saotome
the edge he needed to concentrate.
 
       (You know we gotta do, somethin', Red. We might freeze
everyone to death in our sleep.)
 
       (So what have you got in mind, Saotome? We could sleep
in the alley.)
 
       (That probably ain't far enough away.)
 
       (Then who'll be watching over Akane, Saotome?)
 
       (Oh, man! We got big trouble.)
 
       (We could try staying up all night.)
 
       (Yeah, but I really don't think we should, Red. We're
supposed to be healin' up, remember?)
 
       (Hey! We're a lot better today. We haven't been dizzy
but once since daylight, and that was because you bent over.)
 
       (Oh, yeah, sure. Like its all my fault! You dropped
the soap.)
 
       (Saotome? You ever notice how much trouble soap causes
us?)
 
       (It ain't near as much trouble as water causes us.)
 
       (They go together, though.)
 
       (Never mind that, Red. What are we gonna do about
tonight?)
 
       (Hey! I have an idea.)
 
       (Okay, shoot.)
 
       (We sleep as much as we can during the day, then stay
awake all night.)
 
       (That might work, but what if we start havin' bad
dreams during the day?)
 
       (That's the beauty of it, Saotome. Somebody's bound to
wake us up before things get out of hand.)
 
       (You're right. Talk to Akane about it.)
 
       (Oh, so you want _me_ to talk to her now, huh?)
 
       (Hey! It was your idea, Red.)
 
       (So? You don't mind me cuttin' in, huh?)
 
       (Well, I gotta admit. We did do pretty good last
night--until we went to sleep that is.)
 
       (Yeah, it figures. We're the only person in the world
that can cause serious trouble in our sleep.)
 
       (You know, Red, I hate to say this, but that might
actually make us worse to have around than Happosai.)
 
       (If I didn't have to share your mouth, I'd make you
eat soap for that.)
 
       (We've had enough trouble with soap for a day. Talk to
Akane, will ya?)
 
       "Yo, Akane!"
 
       "What is it, Ranma?" Akane asked, feigning irritation.
 
       "I'm gonna get some sleep, okay?"
 
       "So?"
 
       "So don't let anyone bother me unless I, uh,
unless..."
 
       "You start your own, personal cold front?"
 
       "You know what I mean," Ranma said, doing his best to
sound aggravated.
 
       "Let me see if Doctor Tofu can give you something to
help you sleep."
 
       "Just so long as it ain't a fast flyin' barbell or
nothin', okay?"
 
       "Actually, I was thinking of using his ball bat, but I
saw him take it home yesterday."
 
       "Kawia-kune onna!"
 
       "You know, Ranma, you were a pretty nice guy while you
were asleep."
 
       "Oh, ha-ha! That was a good one," Ranma said, trying
to sound sarcastic but grinning through his best efforts to
suppress it.
 
        Akane left the room and returned in less than five
minutes bearing a large tumbler filled with what appeared to
be orange juice.
 
       "Here. Doctor Tofu says you should drink all of it."
 
       "What is it?"
 
       "He said it was mostly orange juice with a little
potato juice mixed in. Now drink it! Doctor's orders."
 
       (Whoa!)
 
       (This is some really stout orange juice, Saotome.)
 
       (Tell me! What'd he do? Put rocket fuel it?)
 
       "Are you okay, Ranma?" Akane asked.
 
       "This is orange juice and potato juice?"
 
       "That's what Doctor Tofu said."
 
       "I'm sleepy already."
 
       "Good! Maybe now I can study."
 
       "Me bein' asleep won't help you any. You know you
can't concentrate while you're around a hunk like me."
 
       (Saotome, you jerk!)
 
       (Hey! It's part of the act, okay?)
 
        Akane stuck her tongue out at him.
 
       "Good night, Tomboy."
 
       "Get some sleep, baka! I hate guys with baggy eyes."
 
       "Yeah, I know. You told me that before. As if I'd
care."
          
      
                           -----------
 
               
        By eleven o'clock on the Wednesday following Akane's
failed wedding, Jean-Luc Thibbedeaux had finally finished
with the American's mountain bike and was trying to decide
whether to remove the tires and hang it from the bar-joists
of his shop, or if he shouldn't perhaps go ahead and have it
crated. Hanging it would mean that every time someone saw it
they would ask about it and would want to buy it. Crating it
meant an unnecessary expense if the American kid never came
through with the rest of the money, which Jean-Luc had to
admit was a distinct probability. The boy had taken a very
nasty fall.  
 
        He was hampered in making this decision by the
approach of luncheon. At home in France, luncheon had been
his favorite meal. Here in Japan it was something of a bore.
At home he would have taken a minimum of two hours for a mid-
day meal, but here he rarely took longer than thirty minutes.
The food here was passable fair for the most part, but
nothing like the sumptuous dining available in his beloved
France. Here everything had noodles in it, or noodles on the
side, or it had sticky, glutenous rice as part of the main
course. Jean-Luc despised noodles. Noodles were entirely too
Italian for him. He liked his rice light and fluffy,
carefully seasoned with saffron, black pepper and a good
chicken stock. Oh, well he thought. May as well take a little
time today and try what's her name's crepes. They were not
anything remotely like French crepes, but they were filling
and her waitress was a joy to flirt with. Much to his horror,
he was developing a taste for Fiery Steed beer. He really was
going to have to visit home soon. This place was ruining his
palate.
 
        Jean-Luc walked out onto the side walk, then turned
and reached up to lower the main door to his shop when his
nose froze him in place and pose. The first scent to assail
his olfactory never endings was a freshly scrubbed, but
nicely warmed up young woman. The next thing was the assault
upon his ears by the screeching and clattering of the
incredibly bad piece of commercially made junk so laughingly
called a bicycle in Japan, but the real show stopper was the
smell of a freshly baked brioche. Jean-Luc could not believe
his nose. He sniffed the air. Not only was he smelling a
nicely warmed up young woman and a brioche, but a
bouillabaisse. In addition to the brioche and bouillabaisse,
there was the definite hint of fresh butter. Not just any
butter mind you, but fresh butter from a Jersey, not a
Holstein cow. 
       
       "Nihao!" a soft, sexy voice said.
       
        Jean-Luc slowly lowered his arm and turned around.
She was incredible. Not only was the young woman a treat for
the eyes, the power in that young body was unmatched by any
cyclist Jean-Luc Thibbedeaux had ever seen. And the aroma
emanating from inside the take-out box she held in her right
hand was something he would have willingly killed for right
there on the spot.
 
       "Good morning," Jean-Luc finally managed to say
without spraying.
       
       "Great-grandmother send you gift. Is too, too
delicious bu ya be su."
 
        Jean-Luc forgave her the quaint manner of speech. He
even managed to ignore that horrible monstrosity she stood
astride. There was a brioche in that box! And a
bouillabaisse! And butter! Fresh butter! From a Jersey! Tears
came into his eyes.
 
       "Gift? For me?"
 
       "Yes!" Xian Pu said in her deadliest kawai voice. The
one that had been known to bring men to their knees at a
hundred meters or more.
 
        Jean-Luc reached out with trembling hands and took
the box, then walked on unsteady legs back into his shop and
set the box down on his desk. Xian Pu followed him, pushing
her bike along behind. Ordinarily he would have thrown a fit
if someone had defiled his premises with such a rude
contraption, but today was different. Today he would forgive,
or grant, anything.
 
       "Great-grandmother ask how long to make bicycle for
Nekohanten. Price no object."
 
       "A bicycle?"
 
       "Yes."
 
       "You are making deliveries with that dreadful wreck?"
 
        Xian Pu answered with a silent nod of the head.
 
       "Sacrebleu! You poor child!"
 
       "Bicycle is mostly bad today. Xian Pu ride it all over
Nerima many months now."
 
       "I have a bicycle you can use for today. By tomorrow
morning, I shall have a new one, tailor made just for those
lovely legs."
 
       "By tomorrow?" Xian Pu could not help but giggle. Men
outside her tribe were so silly.
 
       "Mademoiselle, I am Jean-Luc Thibbedeaux! If a thing
can be done, it must be done, and it is I, Jean-Luc, who will
do it for you!"
 
       "Xian Pu so happy!"
 
       "Merde! Get away from that dreadful thing before it
bites you!" Jean-Luc said, referring to her bicycle. Xian Pu
looked around for a dog.
 
       "Here! Take this machine," he said, bringing out the
mountain bike he had just brought to a glittering completion,
"It does not really suit you, but I think it will do until I
have yours ready."
 
       "Aiyaa! Is beautiful bicycle!"
 
       "Fah! It's nothing! I made it for an American. Come
back here this same time tomorrow and I will have a
masterpiece waiting for you, my dear."
 
       "What do with old bicycle?"
 
       "Oh, leave it here. I will use it to properly size
your new machine. Then we will throw it into the scrap bin
together, yes?"
 
       "Okay. Xian Pu go now. Must make more delivery!"
 
       "Fare well, my Goddess!" Jean-Luc said in French.
 
       "Bai, bai!" Xian Pu said with her patented, bring 'em
to their knees giggle. It was so potent, Jean-Luc watched her
pedal completely out of sight before remembering the brioche.
 
       "Aiyaah!" he cried as he ran back into his shop.
 
        Xian Pu was rather disappointed with her new ride
after a block or so. She had to pedal it too much. Then she
discovered that it did not have any brakes. Backpedaling
resulted in nothing but backpedaling and strange, clicking
sounds. This made it necessary for her to dodge in and out of
traffic. Once she started to pedal again, she was shocked by
two things. The bicycle was much harder to pedal, but was
suddenly and inexplicably faster than any bicycle she had
ever ridden. Oh, Kami-sama was it fast. Her shirt tail did
not merely flutter in the breeze, it made snapping noises.
This was both good and bad. It was good because she really
and truly appreciated the speed, but it was horribly bad
because the damned thing did not have any brakes. It did not
have a bell, either. Had it not been for her incredibly fast,
Amazon trained reflexes this would have ended in disaster for
her. As it was, it made a mess of everything in Nerima
between Forges Street and the Nekohanten as she zipped in and
out of traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, like a cat
with her tail on fire. It was Mousse who rescued her by
serving as a crash barrier and soft spot for her to land on.
Xian Pu found herself lying on Muu Su face to face.
 
       "Xian Pu sorry, Muu Su. New bicycle not have brakes."
 
       "It has brakes, Xian Pu."
 
       "No it not! Xian Pu try very hard to stop. Hit Muu Su
instead."
  
       "They are on the handle bars, Xian Pu."
 
       "Silly Muu Su! How handle bars stop bicycle?"
 
       "Uh, well..."
 
       "Pedals work funny, too."
 
       "I know. You see, it's because it's a different sort
of bicycle than what you are used to riding, Xian Pu. Are you
okay?"
 
       "Xian Pu, okay. How Muu Su?" Xian Pu got up and helped
him to his feet, having decided that he had been exposed long
enough to refresh his loyalty to her. For a moment she feared
that she might have overplayed her hand, as he appeared ready
to go into one of his ecsatic flapping fits. Fortunately, he
somehow maintained his self-control. Xian Pu felt vaguely
disappointed.
 
       "Oh, it's minor. Nothing to worry about."
 
       "Bicycle crazy! First it make Xian Pu pedal too much.
Then no stop. Then go very, very fast. Xian Pu no
understand."
 
        Muu Su fetched the bicycle and whistled once he got a
close look at it. 
 
       "Whoa! This is one of the best mountain bikes I've
ever seen."
 
       "What is mountain bike?"
 
       "It was made to ride in hill country, Xian Pu. Like
back home."
 
       "Aiyaa! Nerima flat."
 
       "Is this the bike he sold you?
 
       "No. Silly Frenchmans say bring this back tomorrow. He
give Xian Pu better bicycle then.
 
       "Come get on it. I'll show you how it works."
 
        Xian Pu came to grips with the caliper brakes and how
to operate them fairly quickly. The gears, though, were a
different matter. She did finally understand how to change
them, but the purpose of the lower gears eluded her. All she
wanted to do was go fast. Muu Su kept trying to explain, but
was not getting it across very well.
 
        Ko Lon watched the pair from inside the Nekohanten
and smiled. The ways of the middle Tendo might be mysterious,
but the ways of an Amazon were more than potent. It was going
to be an interesting battle, and a profitable one to boot.
 
       
      
                           -----------
 
 
 
       Jean-Luc Thibbedeaux felt the sudden stab of fear in
his heart as he approached the take out box Xian Pu had left.
Fear of disappointment. How on earth could Chinese a noodle
cook possibly know anything about producing a genuine
brioche, much less a bouillabaisse? Yet his nose told him it
was so. He opened the box. It really was a brioche. It really
was bouillabaisse. He was in heaven. He spent two hours
consuming a meal that would have disappeared in fifteen
minutes had anyone but a Frenchman been eating it.
 
        He sketched as he ate. He was having a vision. Racing
bikes, though very light, durable, and in the case of
mountain bikes, maneuverable, were not suitable designs for
the lovely Xian Pu making deliveries. They were too rough
riding. A delivery person needed a milder mannered mount that
was tough and reliable, yet lightweight. The frame needed to
be longer and it needed a little more spring in it.  The
wheels needed to be a bit taller. The spokes slightly more
flexible. Perhaps he would eliminate the spokes altogether
and use some of the new fiber composites for the wheels.
Certainly the fenders would be fiber composites. A wide range
of gearing was a must. Delivery people ran into all sorts of
conditions and weather, plus they lacked the luxury of simply
modifying the bicycle for different parts of a known course.
He would have to make some very careful choices. Tires! He
really needed a special tire design. The standard ones were
entirely inadequate.
 
        Two hours later the meal was done and Jean-Luc had
finished his fourth sketch and was well into the final
calculations on the gearing. He ran a fast check of his
material inventory through his head. He had what he needed
for the sprockets and chain. He did not have the tubing he
needed and he would have to schedule a welder to come in. He
no longer did his own welding because his eyes could not take
it anymore. He would have to call the sheet metal shop.
Suddenly, he found himself shouting into the telephone at his
various suppliers and subcontractors.
 
        Now, it must be said that no one can speak French in
a manner suitable for most Frenchman unless they have spent a
great deal of time in France. Speaking French is an art form
in its own right. It takes years and years of practice. In
order to speak perfect French, one must do more than
practice. One must live the language. French is perhaps the
only language on earth that is like this. There are however,
certain unfortunate side effects. Most Frenchman have great
difficulty speaking any other language without a pronounced
accent, as the late, great Peter Sellers was so fond of
pointing out. 
 
        Jean-Luc, in his excited state and inflamed by an
intensity of ambition he had never before felt, was perfectly
incoherent over the telephone. Not only did his Japanese
suffer from a thoroughly execrable accent, he mixed more than
a little French into his discourse. He also kept forgetting
that Japanese sentences always have their verbs at their ends
and that an unfinished sentence usually cannot be understood,
even when the speaker spoke perfectly good Japanese. What he
did get across however, was that peculiar form of infectious
excitement which only a grand master of his craft can
transmit. The Japanese are quick to recognize the passion of
a grand master fully engaged, heart and soul, in his craft.
Within minutes, a host of salesman and technicians were
dispatched to the little shop on Forges Street in Nerima. Go
find out what he wants and see that he gets it, were their
orders. This guy is on to something big and we must be part
of it. 
 
        Few them had any idea how big it would be. They did
know, however, what it would be called. It would be called
"Enterprise," because Jean-Luc was designing for the small
entrepreneur. And, because it was based upon Jean-Luc's
fourth sketch, it would be called "Enterprise D," or, when
spoken in Japanglish, "Ayn Tah Pu Raisa Day." The start was a
little rocky because they had to drag Jean-Luc away from his
lathe where he was hogging out a new, never before seen set
of sprockets.
 
        They did eventually get him away from the lathe and
his enthusiasm was even more infectious in proximity than it
was over the telephone. Within an hour the requirements for
Jean-Luc's new design were hammered out. Everyone soon
understood what was needed and their deadlines firmly
established. A storm of activity with feeder bands from all
over Tokyo converged upon Thibbedeaux's little shop on Forges
Street. Mechanical design is one of The Arts. The great
masters of that Art sometimes birth a design so superlative
that it inspires entirely new industries. Ford had his Model
T. Edison had his light bulb. Douglas had his DC-3.
Thibbedeaux would have the Enterprise D. A design which was,
in the opinion of future environmentalists, destined to save
the planet. Only a very enlightened few would realize that
the Enterprise D and its variants would never have become the
huge success they were to eventually be, without the
extraordinary performances of a young, mouth-wateringly
beautiful Chinese Amazon named Xian Pu.
 
           
      
                           -----------
 
             
        For most people, money is a problem. The nature of
this problem falls into three general, sometimes difficult to
distinguish categories. Too little money is the problem we
most often hear about, while not quite enough money is the
one most people are confronted with, but for a benighted few,
too much money is the problem. The problem of too much money
is most often the bane of those who did not themselves earn
it, such as the victims of a sudden, unexpected windfall, or
heirs to a great fortune they themselves had little or no
part in making. It can also be a thorn in the side for those
who obtained their fortunes by surreptitious or illegal
means. In the case of Kodachi Kuno, an heir to a great
fortune, the too much money problem was exacerbated by an
almost complete lack of parental guidance. Money will buy its
owner very nearly anything save genuine affection. This can
have an extraordinarily corrosive effect upon a person's ego
and Kodachi was by no means immune to it. It made her
desperately vulnerable to an event which is best described as
the "casual kindness." A good example of such an event is
being saved from a nasty fall by a handsome stranger.
 
        For all her riches, Kodachi Kuno was desperately
impoverished in the ways which truly mattered. This form of
poverty came part and parcel with her heritage. She was the
third generation of Kuno's born to great wealth who had not
had a part in doing the work necessary to create that wealth.
Her great-grandparents had made the mistake of sheltering
their children from all the sharks they knew and did not
know, in a vain effort to protect the family's wealth. This
is understandable, but is a stratagem easily overdone. Most
wealthy families find a balance in this regard. Kodachi's
family did not.
 
        Kodachi's personal trainer, Saeko Shimazu, knew all
of this. She was from a family that had been quite wealthy at
one time and had gone through the cycle of rags to riches and
back to rags again. It left her with enough money to get
through college and enough status to build up a long list of
wealthy clients once she had graduated from school. She had
majored in psychology and was a fourth-dan Martial Arts
Gymnast. This rare combination of skills and education had
allowed her to remain in the employ of Kodachi Kuno where
others had failed. 
 
        Her skills did not however, make her job easy.
Kodachi could go from sweet, compliant little girl to
ravening medieval bitch in the twinkling of an eye. All this
week, the bitch had been roiling just beneath the sweet
little girl surface of Kodachi's personality, ready to lash
out at everyone within reach on the slightest excuse.
 
        More acutely, the bitch was ruining Kodachi's
performance of their newly choreographed floor routine.
Coaching Kodachi through one of these spells was never easy
and they had a competition coming up. A competition which did
not involve combat. Grace and sensitivity were needed to
carry the day, and while Kodachi was displaying her world
renowned grace, she was attacking the program like a hungry
tigress. The best she could hope to do in the competition,
unless she improved her aesthetics, was third place, perhaps
as low as fourth place.
 
        Shimazu dreaded the thought of such a result. It
would mean months of hard work rebuilding Kodachi's fragile
ego. Too much of the girl's self worth was a reflection of
what complete strangers thought of her. Kodachi  was one of
those unfortunates who had no choice about winning or losing.
For her, it was win or else. Criticism of Kodachi in her
current emotional state was unlikely to help either. Shimazu
had therefore decided to tape today's practice. This would
allow Kodachi to see her problems for herself, with no
criticism from Shimazu required. Kodachi completed the floor
routine in exact time with the music. Technically, she had it
down pat. She had performed it with out single flaw or
misstep. Aesthetically, however, it was a complete disaster.
 
        Shimazu briefly considered changing the music and
Kodachi's costume, and letting her do her usual, sexy-evil,
witchy rendition of a floor routine, but rejected that notion
almost out of hand. Several other girls had decided to try
beating Kodachi at her own game with similar routines. Two of
them were showing every sign of perfecting such an act.
Shimazu did not believe in engaging an enemy on their choice
of ground, even if it was home turf. A twist in the routine
was a must. Kodachi must be evilly sexy, witchy and gently
loving as well, to win this competition.  None of the other
girls could ever hope to emulate such a routine. A resounding
defeat in this competition would reduce the number of Kodachi
emulators to zero. The beautiful witch was Kodachi's
trademark and Shimazu was determined that no other competitor
should succeed against her client while infringing upon it.
 
       "How was I, Shimazu-sensei?"
 
       "Technically perfect, Kuno-san. I think the judges
would grant tens on that score," Shimazu said while hooking
the camera up to the small television she had brought into
Kodachi's gymnasium.
 
       "Why am I not thrilled at this news, Shimazu-sensei?"
Kodachi asked.
 
       "Perhaps you would understand more by watching
yourself perform, Kuno-san."
 
        Kodachi did understand. She watched. She crumbled.
She cried. Shimazu did her best to console the poor little
rich girl. It was not easy, but nothing to do with Kodachi
ever came easily.
 
       "You have been working very hard, Kuno-san. Perhaps it
is time we took a break, ne?"
 
       "A break?"
 
       "Yes! Why don't you go grab a quick shower and we'll
go out on the town. We'll spend a spend some time watching
all the little people as they struggle, hmm?" Shimazu had no
qualms about pressing certain of Kodachi's buttons when she
thought it necessary.
 
       "Excellent idea, Shimazu-san! Do you have anything in
particular in mind?"
       
       "Oh, I thought we'd dress down a little and try the
local coffeehouse."
 
       "Ho, ho, ho, ho! I just love slumming! Watching the
little people struggle is great fun!"
 
        Shimazu had another agenda of course. Kodachi was one
of those people seldom impressed by mere instruction.
Demonstration was required, and there were a disheartening
number times when even that failed to work. Shimazu used
every excuse she could think of to get Kodachi away from her
weird, rich-bitch friends and exposed to normal people.
Granted there was a shortage of "normal people" in Nerima,
but the majority of them were in far better mental shape than
Kodachi's friends. Repeated exposure had helped some. Shimazu
might be the only person who could see the improvement in
Kodachi, but it was most definitely there. Kodachi's falling
so hard for one of the local boys from a family of modest
means had helped a great deal. Kodachi could never have the
boy, of course. The gulf between them was too great, but at
least Kodachi's interest in him had damped some of the wilder
delusions she had harbored prior to meeting him. She had not
spoken of her plan to take over the world and have herself
declared Empress of the Universe for almost six months now.

           
      
                         -----------
 
               
        Sometime around noon, Genma Saotome woke with a
splitting headache and a taste in his mouth more than a
little reminiscent of a latrine. He took this to mean that he
was probably in trouble. He cracked one eye open and waited
patiently for the sake induced bleariness to dissipate. Much
to his horror the scene resolved itself into a familiar one.
He was laying belly down in his panda form beneath a tall
tree. A short distance away was a pond with a bubbling
fountain in it. On the far side of the pond was a thick grove
of bamboo. Yep! No doubt about it. He was in the zoo again.
Worse, he was in HER pit again. He lay very still in hopes
that she had not noticed his presence. This was a
preposterous hope, of course. All animals keep themselves
acutely aware of their surroundings, and the Nerima Zoo's
only female panda was no exception. She was very much aware
of his presence. She was just waiting for him to wake up.
 
        Another thing about animals os that they can almost
always tell whether you are awake or not, even when you are
quite good at feigning sleep. Patsu the Panda was no
exception. It was going to be a long day. The first of
several, unless Genma missed his guess. The women of the
Tendo household did not hold him in great esteem and were
therefore, unlikely to be in any hurry to rescue him.
Remembering the noise Soun had made during the fight at
Miyagi's, Genma figured he would be in bed for at least two
days, perhaps three. All he could do was hope that Nabiki did
not stall too long on making arrangements for his release.
The other thing he had to hope for was that Soun would
overrule Ranma's sentiments in the matter.  He could count on
nothing from Happosai. The old Master considered escape from
incarceration to be a vital part of the Anything Goes School
training regimen. Besides, from what Genma remembered, the
old coot was most likely in jail himself.
 
       There was no doubt about it. He was in the lurch with
an amorous female panda that simply could not understand his
lack of reciprocating interest. He could distract her by
playing "Bat the Tire" with her for a day, maybe two at the
most. After that, things would become complicated. Genma
found himself wishing he could convince the zookeeper to give
him a dozen or so aspirin. Oh, well. He would look and see
whether there was any bark left on that old willow. It
invariably gave him a bad case of indigestion, but at least
it would help his head. Maybe he would get lucky and Patsu
would let him chew his bark in peace.
 
        It was not to be. Patsu realized he was awake and
demanded his immediate attention. Fortunately, all she seemed
to want for the moment was to be cuddled, which suited Genma
to a tee. He was in no shape to play bat the tire. The bark
could wait. He would cuddle with Patsu while taking a nap. It
was the smart thing to do in the circumstances.
       
           
      
                          -----------
 

        Kasumi and Nodoka made a great team insofar as
housework went. In fact, Nodoka proved to be far less
troublesome than Kasumi had anticipated. She had not shown
any inclination to disrupt Kasumi's routine, and never did
anything without asking how Kasumi preferred things to be
done. This made it even harder for Kasumi to understand what
made Nodoka tick. A woman Nodoka's age usually had very
definite ideas on how things should be done and would never
dream of asking a woman of Kasumi's age about her
preferences. Kasumi had to wonder if it would have been the
same had this been Akane's household, as it one day would be.
Still, the morning had passed pleasantly after Nabiki called
and told them that everything at the clinic was back to
normal, or at least as close to normal as things around Ranma
and Akane ever were.
 
        By ten o'clock they found themselves at loose ends.
Nabiki had promised to see after Ranma and Akane's luncheon.
Soun would not move from his bed for at least another day.
Happosai was nowhere to be found. Nabiki was at school, or
busy dealing with the myriads of finicky details of the
innumerable schemes she seemed to thrive on. The house was
clean. The laundry was done and hung out to dry. The two of
them were suddenly very bored.
 
       "Auntie Nodoka?"
 
       "Yes, Kasumi-chan?"
 
       "Don't you think we should take Ojisan some hot
water?" Kasumi asked. After the third time of trying to get
Genma out of the zoo by going through the proper channels,
they had learned to just toss Genma's panda form a thermos of
hot water. He somehow always managed to get out on his own
once he could resume his human form. Normally Ranma would
take care of this, albeit only at his mother's insistence.
 
        Nodoka regarded Kasumi with a surprised look before
answering.
 
       "After we just finished cleaning the house?"
 
        Kasumi giggled. Nodoka joined her.
 
       "I suppose we could go shopping instead," Kasumi said.
 
       "How have you tolerated this constant insanity all
this time, Kasumi?"
 
       "Oh, I just look on it as part of my training."
 
       "The Anything Goes School of Martial Arts
Housekeeping?" Nodoka asked.
 
       "I never really thought of it that way, but I suppose
you _could_ call it that. At least it has never been boring."
 
       "I can see how it might ruin your taste for soap
operas," Nodoka said with mock grimness. They shared another
giggle.
 
       "Shall I heat some water?"
 
       "Oh, I suppose we should, but I am of half a mind to
just leave Genma where he is. At least while he is in the zoo
he isn't under foot."
 
       "True," Kasumi said, but sounded vaguely doubtful.
 
       "Then again, if he were here I could put him to work
on building your father a pull cart."
 
       "Oh! That would be so nice. It makes shopping much
more convenient."
 
       "Very well then. We will first take my honorable
husband a flask of hot water, _then_ we will go shopping.
Agreed?"
 
       "Hai!" Kasumi said with a happy smile.
       
        They had to do all the things women always do before
going anywhere of course, which included a quick change of
clothes. Kasumi put on the only casual kimono she owned. Much
to her shock and amusement, Nodoka came out wearing western
style clothes. Unfortunately, an outfit like hers had not
been seen since the late nineteen fifties. Kasumi laughed out
loud before she could stop herself. Then Nodoka laughed.
 
       "I suppose we should check with one another first,
next time," Nodoka said.
 
       "We really should, I think," Kasumi said.
 
       "I think I'll go put on a kimono."
 
       "Oh, would you please, Auntie Nodoka? I hardly ever
get to go anywhere in this."
 
       "I'd be happy to dear."
 
        Kasumi collapsed into seiza and covered her face with
both hands as soon as Nodoka disappeared into her room. It
was the only way she could hold in the laughter. They would
have made an impossibly outlandish looking pair traipsing
around Nerima in such out of date garb. Fortunately, Kasumi
had managed to regain her composure before Nodoka came
downstairs again, looking every inch the severely proper
samurai wife in her pale blue kimono and bearing her cloth
covered katana.
 
        They arrived at the zoo only to find Genma sound
asleep beneath the large ginkgo tree in the panda pit, being
cuddled by the constantly amorous Patsu Panda. Nodoka was not
amused. The sizable crowd they had joined at the edge of the
pit was amused by the sight of the two cuddly-looking animals
cuddling, and were all ooing and ahhing over how cute they
were. Nodoka was so steamed she quite forgot about the crowd.
 
       "Well I never!" Nodoka said in severely aggrieved
tones as she placed both fists on her hips. This took the
crowd's attention away from the pandas. They began staring in
fascination at the furious Nodoka.
 
       "Tendo-san, have you ever seen such a flagrant public
display in all your life?"
 
       "No Auntie, I have not," Kasumi said, desperately
trying not to laugh at the steely Nodoka for a second time
that day. She did succeed in maintaining her composure, but
only by the tiniest of margins. One thing about having the
Saotome Clan around, she thought, they beat the living
daylights out of anything on television.
 
       "Would you mind holding this for a moment, Kasumi-
chan?" Nodoka asked as she handed Kasumi the katana.
 
       "Not at all, Saotome-san," Kasumi said as she took the
proffered weapon.
 
       "I'll show him a thing or two!" Nodoka said as she
tramped out of sight behind a large clump of nearby azaleas.
With Nodoka out of sight, the puzzled crowd now focused their
attention upon Kasumi. Kasumi gave them a polite bow, rather
than rolling on the ground laughing.
 
        Nodoka returned fuming. She had rolled up the sleeves
of her kimono until they were well above her elbows. She had
likewise rolled up the lower portion of her kimono until it
was well above her knees. She had a pair of fist-sized
stones, one in each hand and a third rock tucked into her
obi. Once she was back on the sidewalk that wound around the
panda pit, she carefully stepped out of her geta and gave her
somnolent husband a very hard stare. Her green eyes glittered
like emeralds in the sunlight. The crowd watched with growing
alarm. Kasumi continued the struggle to maintain her
composure.
 
       "I'll show you, Genma Saotome!" Nodoka said through
gritted teeth. Then, with a graceful windup that would have
been the envy of any professional baseball player that
witnessed it, she flung the fist-sized rock in her right hand
at her still oblivious husband. While Nodoka was incapable of
throwing a fast ball as powerful as say, Nolan Ryan's, the
rock did emit a fairly wicked hum as it sailed across the
panda pit.
 
        Thock! the rock noised as it bounced off the top of
Genma's skull.
 
       "Oowaahr!" Genma yowled.
 
       "Genma no baka!" Nodoka shouted.
 
        Genma produced a sign which read, "This isn't what it
looks like!"
 
       "I'll just bet it isn't!" Nodoka shouted as she passed
the second rock from her left hand to her right. "You
pervert!"
 
        Nodoka began another windup. The crowd gasped. Genma
blinked trying to understand what she was doing. Nodoka let
fly before he figured it out.
 
        Hum-m-m-m-m-m, thock!
 
       "Eeeyower aaah grrr!"

        Genma held up yet another sign.
 
       "You don't understand how it is with animals!"
 
       "Why I most certainly do, Genma Saotome! I've been
married to _you_ for years!" Nodoka shouted as she struggled
to remove the third rock from her obi. It had slid down a
little during her last windup.
 
        Several people in the crowd fell to the ground
holding their sides. Others gasped. Most of them just stared
in open mouthed wonder. Kasumi put one hand to her mouth, her
eyes shining and face reddening.
 
       "I am _not_ an animal!" Genma's next sign read.
 
       "Says who? Who says you aren't an animal? _They_ all
think you are an animal!" Nodoka said, indicating the
thoroughly shocked crowd. Genma began desperately trying to
scribble yet another sign, but Nodoka managed to free the
third rock from her obi before he could finish. Seeing her
begin another windup, Genma tried to hide behind the tree.
Unfortunately for him, the tree was not quite adequate to the
task. The rock hummed across the panda pit and struck him in
the left flank, making a funny kind of sloshing sound when it
struck, as though it had impacted a bass drum half full of
water.
 
       "Bleh-urk!" Genma noised, as he desperately searched
the pit for better cover.  Genma sprinted a quarter of the
way around the pit, then dove between a large clump of azalea
bushes and a large boulder, hoping that if Nodoka could not
see him, she would go away.
 
       "Here ya go, lady," one of the teen aged boys in the
crowd said as he handed her a fourth stone. He had a
malicious smirk on his face.
 
       "Why thank you, young man. That is very considerate of
you," Nodoka said in exceedingly cultured tones.
 
       "Not at all, ma'am," the boy said.
 
       "Come out from behind that bush, Genma Saotome! Take
your punishment like a man!"
 
        Genma held a sign up past the top of the azalea bush
which read, "I'm just poor dumb animal! Remember?"
 
       "Oh, you are _so_ correct dear. I had _quite_
forgotten!"
 
        With that, Nodoka let fly with the fourth rock. This
throw was more of lob than a fast ball type pitch. It
ricocheted off the boulder and struck Genma between the
shoulder blades. 
 
       "Geerrrryow!" Genma howled as he stood up.
 
       "Sugoi!" the teen aged boy shouted in admiration.
 
        The crowd laughed and cheered uproariously. Nodoka
gave them all a curt bow, then rolled down her sleeves and
straightened out the rest of her kimono.
 
       "Shall we go, Kasumi-chan?" Nodoka asked as she
stepped into her geta.
 
       "Only if you are ready to go, Auntie Nodoka," Kasumi
said.
 
       "Keep that flask, dear. I think it best we wait until
he tires of his current paramour," Nodoka said as she
accepted the proffered katana back from Kasumi. "A week or so
should do it, I think."
 
        The two women left behind them a bemused and
befuddled crowd of onlookers. Some of the more imaginative
individuals among them began looking for a hidden camera
crew, but they failed to find one. They found this absence to
be very disconcerting.
 
       "Auntie Nodoka, surely you do not really think that
Uncle Saotome is in any way enamored of that other panda!"
 
       "Of Lady Patsu I cannot be certain, Kasumi-chan,"
Nodoka said calmly if grimly, "About those floozies working
in Miyagi's I have no doubt whatsoever. Genma _is_ a very
manly sort of man, you know."
 
        Kasumi was again having an exceedingly difficult time
containing herself.
 
       "What is it, Kasumi-chan?"
 
       "Well you know, I was just thinking about Ranma. It is
often said that men almost always marry the girl that most
reminds them of their mothers."
 
        Nodoka laughed out loud. This was not as unnerving as
Kodachi's laugh, but it came close. They walked on a few
steps in silence. Then Nodoka spoke up.
 
       "I wonder how Akane-chan would look in a poodle
skirt?"
 
       "Oh that would be darling," Kasumi said, "She would be
so cute."
 
       "I suppose we had best applique a "Hello Kittie" doll
on it rather than a poodle, though."
 
       "Oh! You are actually thinking of making her one?"
 
       "I think it would catch Ranma's eye, don't you?"
 
       "They are tastefully sexy," Kasumi said, "Why not a
panda, instead!"
 
       "No, no pandas!" Nodoka said, laughing. "Perhaps a
nice little pig? One like P-chan?"
 
       "Oh, yes! That would be perfect!"
 
       "Then perhaps we had best visit the fabric store
before we go to the vegetable market."
 
       "Akane is going to be _so_ surprised!" Kasumi said,
grinning from ear to ear. The style of the skirt in question
mattered not at all. The fact that Auntie Nodoka would go to
the time and trouble to make one for Akane was all that
really mattered, and it really would matter a great deal.


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