From:        frosty, bmfrosty@cris.com

Ok, earlier this week I posted an idea.  The idea was to post lots and lots
revengefic shorts (or long pieces if you want) based on the idea presented
in Scott Jamison's 'Sause' all at once, hopefully to RAAC.  Now, about half
an hour ago I looked in my mailbox, and WOW!, Nightelf had sent me a piece.
I'm amazed.  I never really expected this to go anywhere.  Now I extend
the challenge everyone once again.  Write a fic where a charactor or two
who's life you messed with comes back for a little ironic vengance.  Post
it to the ML, and send a copy to me with your permission for me to post
your story, and on or around halloween, I will post it all to RAAC.  Now
this doesn't only go for the Ranma writers out there.  I'd also love to see
anyone who's messed with anything post, whether it's Ranma, BGC, Sailor
Moon, DragonBall Z, AKO, or anything else that's been fit to mangle.

Hmmm. Well, since I haven't actually *finished* a fanfic yet... there is 
one way I've achieved what notoriety I have. My apologies in advance to 
everyone portrayed here...


Crickets chirped, and moths flew around the building lights, as the 
slightly bedraggled Dodge pulled up to the garage door. The headlight 
popped off as the engine did, and the driver slumped back with a sigh. As 
the door opened, the dome light came on, revealing a medium-height man 
with curly brown hair and a curly black beard. He shouldered a laptop 
case, picked up a microwave dish and two magazines, and staggered out of 
the car with a groan.

Shoving aside a carpet of dead box elder bugs with his foot, the man 
fumbled in his pocket for his keys, scrambling desperately to keep the 
dish from falling and breaking into a dozen pieces. The lock clicked, the 
door opened, and the man stumbled inside. After nudging the door closed, 
he flipped on the hallway light with his elbow, and looked up in mild 
puzzlement. *Funny,* he thought, *Snickers is usually down here meowing 
at me by now.*

He trudged wearily up the stairs, flicked on the living-room light, and 
stopped in surprise. The dish slid out of his hand; fortunately, what was 
left of the carpet was still thick enough at that spot to keep it from 
breaking. "Who the heck are..." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

The trenchcoated figure on the couch turned half-around, pushed up the 
brim on his hat, and meticulously adjusted the press badge stuck into the 
brim. "Nice cat, Prof," he said in a slightly cynical tone, his hand 
dropping back down to rub the ears of said cat. Snickers lifted her head 
and gave the Professor a smugly satisfied look.

"Wha... *you*?!? How'd you get *here*?"

"We formed a pool for the plane fares on Valujet," said the slightly 
heavyset figure wearing glasses and a ball cap. "Then I brought them over 
here from KCI." 

"Okay... I'll leave aside the minor matter of how you got in through a 
locked door..."

A small black circle appeared on the wall, and a figure oozed out of the 
wall to reform into a man. "Probably just as well," he said with a grin.

The Professor just shook his head despairingly, and shot a beseeching 
look at the ceiling. "Why me?"

"Because it's your turn, Prof," the blue tiger lounging in a beanbag 
chair said with an evil grin. "After having so much fun helping us... 
'improve'... our stories," she said... "well, now it's our chance to help 
you with *your* writing."

"eep." The Professor stared ahead in shock. Then a faint "Uh-oh" escaped 
his lips.

Another figure on the couch gave him an airy wave. "Come on, it won't be 
*that* bad," he said with a chuckle. "Why, I've got all *kinds* of funny 
ideas to tie you up and keep you going on the next chapter." From a 
shadowed corner of the room, another voice laughed evilly, and smiled as 
he tucked his shoulder-length black hair into a red bandanna. "For a long 
time, eh?"

"Naw," said a voice from the hallway. "His biggest probleam is dat he 
ain't got da grit ta sit down and plug away on 'em." A short, squat 
figure walked out of the hallway, twirling an iron ball at the end of a 
chain. "We can *fix* dat." 

"You, too?" the Professor moaned. "*How*?"

"We merely took advantage of a minor aspect of the non-localized 
phenomena created by the fanfic listfield," said the tall figure that 
followed the halfling out of the hallway, straightening the hang of his 
velvet smoking jacket as he walked. "Surely even you can realize, 
Professor -- if indeed such a title can be applied to one as lacking in 
the advanced degrees of academia as you are --"

"Oh, hush," said the slight blue-haired figure as she stalked out behind 
him. She then smiled winningly at the Professor, who swayed slightly. 
"After all, we're here to *help*. Right?" She sat down on the arm of the 
couch. "And watch, of course. We'll be watching everything you do from 
now on, just to be sure you don't mess up..."

With a groan, the Professor slid to the ground and closed his eyes.



Travis Butler
(The Professor, formerly of Myth and Magick!, Lawrence, KS;
 tbutler@tfs.net, now from the Wandering Powerbook;
 <http://www.tfs.net/personal/tbutler/>;
 Mac page <http://www.tfs.net/business/tbutler/>)

...Cats are the proof of a higher purpose to the universe.