The okonomiyaki hits the fan. Thanks to Trotter, Blackman, and WW fer 
comments. -ML

We Don't Do Okonomiyaki, part 3
A piece of FanFiction by Michael Loader
(mloader@scs.unr.edu)

   With the exception of Hosoi, all characters with Oriental names or 
named after hair-care products are the creation of the illustrious 
Rumiko Takahashi (Praise Takahashi! Praise Bob!) 
and have her copyright stamped upon their foreheads in mile high 
flaming kanji. The Teufel, the Institut Rats, and the regulars are my 
fault, and my property. So there.

-------------------------------------------------part 3------------------
   Oh dear.

   Should I tell them? I mean, it wasn't mine, and apparently it wasn't 
Ryoga's either. But was it their's? And would they leave peacefully 
with it? A vision of these self-proclaimed martial artists wrecking 
the place with bokken, mallets, and Iron Hamster-Fisted Death 
attacks in a fight over the scroll ran through the VCR of my mind.

   "And of course," I said, slyly, "you might do a little reading before 
you return it..."

   Everyone's face turned bright red. I pressed on. "Why isn't this 
Hoppoguy person going after Ryoga himself? I mean, it is his."

   Ranma smirked. "He's all tied up at the moment."

   I sighed. "I should have known. Will he cease to be, uh, tied up when 
you return?"

   "NO!", said Akane, Ranma, Shampoo, and Kodachi, with surprising 
force. 

   "Any reason why?"

   "He's a perverted little troll," Akane explained. "He steals 
underwear, tries to feel up women...."

   "He's even tried doing it to Akane," supplied Ranma. "And you have 
to be perverted to want to do that."

   Akane turned purple.

   "I mean, I could think of about a thousand girls I'd rather [WHACK] 
ughgsdfre....." The mallet caught him right in the middle of the 
forehead.

   "RANMA NO BAKA!"

    "You strike Shampoo's beloved! AIYHAAAA!" With that, Shampoo 
launched herself through the air at Akane. Kuno interposed himself. 
"Seek not to damage the lovely Akane Tenmghjkfdfmm!" The Chinese 
girl's kick knocked him across the taproom. He landed in the middle of 
the Italians, who began to pummel him with gay abandon. With a sigh 
of contentment, the Teufel's regulars reached for chairs and bottles. 
The fight was on!

   I'd been through dozens of these little altercations, and I knew the 
four secrets to Surviving a Bar Fight Without Receiving Serious 
Wounds. One: always keep your back to the wall. Two: Keep a bottle in 
your hand at all times. Three: Keep close to your friends. Four: Jump 
Quick, boy.

   And so, wanting to live through the night, I ran for the stage, where 
the Institut Rats, their discarded whiskey bottles, and the back wall 
of the Teufel waited.  Behind me, all hell was breaking loose.

   Akane was flailing wildly at Ranma with her mallet, screaming in 
Japanese. Ranma was backpedaling, shouting protests, and somehow 
managing to dodge every swing. The mallet was connecting, however; 
two Russians and the med student crumpled to the floor.

   Shampoo and Kodachi, in the meantime, were squaring off in the 
middle of the room. Kodachi was using her ribbon like a bullwhip, 
sending black rose petals flying with every lash. She was connecting, 
too; Shampoo couldn't get close enought to attack. One lash opened a 
long cut on one side of her chest, making her gasp in pain. Kodachi 
opened up with one of her maniacal giggles, and pressed the attack.

   "Shampoo!" Mousse kicked a charging, chair-wielding Frenchman in 
the stomach, and jumped high into the air. His arm flung out, and a 
pair of hedge clippers attached to a chain flew out of his sleeves. 
They neatly cut the ribbon/whip in half. Seeing her chance, Shampoo 
charged, swinging a pair of maces. Kodachi shrank back, her eyes 
widening in fear. Just as Shampoo lunged, an arm snaked out from 
beneath a table, and grabbed Kodachi by the waist. With a startled 
squawk, she vanished beneath the table an instant before the maces 
could touch her.

    'Nice going, Seamus,' I thought.

   Shampoo, overextended by the swing, stumbled forward. Right into 
the frantically dodging Ranma. They collapsed together in a heap. Both 
Mousse and Akane's eyes widened in outrage.

   Kuno, meanwhile, had regained his feet. Shouting furious cries, he 
laid about him with his bokken. Italians flew in all directions, landing 
in moaning heaps. My eyes bulged as I saw that the air pressure from 
the practice sword was gouging out holes in the wall. A stone wall! 
This was definitely going to be worse than normal.

   Ranma disentangled himself from a clutching Shampoo, just in time 
for Mousse to let loose a barrage at him. Knives, chains, hooks, 
weights, a potted geranium, a goldfish bowl, and a cherry-red 
coonskin cap flew towards Ranma in a deadly arc. I winced, and 
silently made myself promise to attend the funeral.

    Ranma's arms became a blur. The assorted projectiles were 
deflected or thrown off in different directions; the bar yelped en 
masse, and ducked to avoid the missiles. Several thunks were heard as 
the knives embedded themselves in wood or clattered off stone. Mahon 
frantically dove to catch the geranium, he had a soft spot for plants. 
The coonskin cap bounced off the ceiling, and landed square on my 
head. I brushed the dangling tail out off my face and kept moving 
towards the stage.

   Suddenly, Otto emerged from behind the bar armed with Scowl #123 
(A bunch of crazy martial artists sind tearing up mein bar), and 
lumbered towards Kuno. Broken furniture was one thing, but actual 
structural damage was something else. Kuno saw him coming, and 
casually sent his last opponent flying. "So, kitchen-ogre, you dare to 
brave mine blade? Come, and feel the might of Kuno! Haiiiyyyyyaaaa!!!!" 
He charged, swinging the bokken with a speed too quick for the eye to 
follow. He spun and pirouetted in a amazing display of swordsmanship. 
Every one of the savage yet graceful slashes found its mark.

   Otto didn't seem to notice.

   Picking up Kuno, who was still raining blows on him,  Otto threw 
him across the room with one hand. I ducked as he sailed over me and 
slammed into the wall I was heading for. Otto grunted, and went back 
to polishing the bar and guarding the liquor.

   I reached the wall, where Kuno was sitting up and groaning. He 
seemed more that a little stunned. "Hey, man, you okay?" I asked.

   He looked up with a vacant stare; his eyes seemed to be having 
trouble focusing. Which wasn't very surprising considering the size of 
the dent his head had made in the wall. For some reason my face, with 
the red coonskin cap, made quite an impression. "My pig-tailed 
goddess!" he shrieked. "You have come to find me!" Still half-
conscious, he grabbed my shirt and started trying to hug me!

   "GAH!" I screamed. "Someone get this Hentai OFF ME!!!" Ranma shot 
me a sympathetic look, but was busy trying to keep Mousse from 
filleting him. I finally grabbed a beer bottle and broke it over the 
love-smitten pervert's head, sending him to dreamland.

   I decided to get some cover, and ducked under a table. There were 
two screams of protest. "Whoops, " I told Seamus and Kodachi, "don't 
mind me, just leaving, go back to what you where doing..." I hurriedly 
left, blushing a bit.

   Surveying the scene, I noticed Akane and Shampoo sitting in one of 
the side booths, deep in conversation. Ranma and Mousse were still 
going at it hammer and tongs. I decided to take a seat and enjoy the 
show.



                                                 * * * * *



   Ranma had just finished pounding Mousse's head through the floor 
when the panda arrived.

   It just opened the door and walked inside, bold as brass. I got up, 
and walked on unsteady legs to meet it. "Hello! And just what can we 
do for you?" I said, in a voice that was quickly edging from calm to 
maniacal. The panda held up a sign saying, "Tea, please."

   Giggling in a way that would have made Kodachi edge away, I went 
to fix a cup of green tea in the kitchen. Otto, perhaps wisely, didn't 
say anything.

   I emerged with the tea to find a red-haired girl, sopping wet, 
yelling at a bucket-holding panda. "This is all your fault, old man! If 
you..." The panda cut her off with a swipe. Balancing the teacup on a 
saucer, I headed over. "Your tea, Mister Panda."

   The panda bowed politely, took the cup, and held up a sign saying 
"Thanks a lot".

   A thought struck me. "Excuse me, miss," I asked the redhead. "Do 
you know these nut cases?" 

   "Yeah," she said with reluctance. "We'll pay for the damages."

   "NO!NoNoNoNo!!! You misunderstand!" I ran over to the drum set, 
yanked out the scroll case, and gave it to her. "Here! Ryoga ran off 
without it! Take the damn thing, just get them out of here!"

   "Gee, thanks!" She and the panda sorted through the heaps of bodies 
in the room, removing theirs. Kodachi and Seamus emerged from 
beneath the table wearing big silly grins and rearranging their 
clothing. Akane finished telling a story to Shampoo, who broke out 
into peals of laughter, and got up to join the panda and redhead. Let's 
see, I thought, is that all of them?

   "Wait," I said. "Where's Ranma?"

   "He's....outside," replied Akane. "It was nice meeting you, Mike."

   I managed a weak smile.

   The whole group of them trooped out, and I gave a sigh of relief. 
Picking my way over the bodies, I walked over to Seamus, who still 
was wearing that grin. "Well, at least someone had a good time."

   "Sure, an ya got that right! Ah, she was a grand lass. An I'll 
probably 
never see her again in life." A single tear made its way down his 
cheek. I laughed merrily.

   "You got that right. I gave them what they were looking for, that 
scroll. They'll be back in Japan before...what's so funny?" Seamus had 
burst out laughing.

   There was a sudden thump from behind me, and I turned around. 
Hosoi was picking himself up off the floor. "Ah, hello!" he said. "As 
soon as I saw Kuno, I headed for the rafters. I had him in one of my 
classes a few years back, and I knew something like this would 
happen." He spat on the ground. "Furinkan. The place is a nut house."

   "You could have warned me," I said, plaintively. "I could have 
jumped for the ceiling myself."

   "Sorry, but I didn't have the time."

   "Yeah, I don't suppose I blame you. Sheesh, I always thought the 
Japanese had a reputation as being quiet and polite." I turned to 
Seamus, who was still laughing his ass off. "What's so funny, man?"

   "Well, it's like this, Mike...I'm gonna be seein' Kodachi again."

   "Huh? What? W-why would you say that?"

   "Cause I was usin' the fancy case ta keep me favorite music in." He 
pulled out a sheet of rice paper. "I got the scroll thinger right 'ere."

   Hosoi and I looked at each other for a second, and then ran 
screaming out into the night.

----------------------------------------------------finis?--------------

   This is my first fanfic to this group, so I might as well introduce 
meself. I'm Mike Loader, college student, writer, & reporter, formerly of 
Germany, Russia, and LA, and currently of Reno, the City That Never Stops 
Sleeping. Greetings, all.

   While you won't find Baringgen on a map, it actually exists. So do 
Mike, Seamus, Otto, and most of the others. However, names have 
wisely been changed to protect the guilty, and the above incident 
obviously never happened.

   The piece came about due to two reasons; the Penspinner was 
demanding another TFBT story, and I had recently been introduced to 
the wonderful world of anime. I wanted to do a fanfiction bit, but the 
Penspinner editor was fondling an uzi, looking pointedly at the 
calender, and calling at 3 AM asking if the next story was done yet, 
and casually mentioning he knew where I lived.

    So I took the cheesy way out, and proposed combined the two. No 
way, said the editor.

   The 12th TFBT story, Rats in the Walls, was kicked out into the 
cold, hard world after an all-night writing spree. After taking a small 
coma to recover, I wrote the above monstrosity, thus assuring my 
place in the Carpal Tunnel Hall of Fame.

   My original idea was to show the Ranma characters from a different 
perspective than normal. Ranma and Co, being not only martial artists 
but ANIME martial artists, obviously think little of curses, spells, 
wall-crushing air pressure, etc. You, the viewer, are sitting at home 
with some friends and a bag of chips, laughing your heads off at 
Saotome. The reasons for this are self evident; 1) It's damn funny, 2) 
You can manage suspention of disbelief, 'cause it's only a cartoon, and 
3) You aren't in the line of fire.


   But what about the extras? You know, the nameless Furinkan 
students, innocent bystanders, and straight men that we see in every 
episode? How would the everyday guy react to meeting these people?

   Mike, I reasoned, probably doesn't find Ranma amusing. Neither 
would you, if the characters had their latest adventure, or even 
argument, in your very breakable house.

   Sadly enough, I messed up.

   See, this sort of thing happens all the time in the Teufel. And, Mike, 
despite his mildly neurotic and paranoid outlook, keeps coming in, 
every night.

   On a subconsious level, Mike is enjoying this.

   Hope you do too.

mloader@scs.unr.edu