I finally finished this thing. I think I'm a bit late for the
challenge I originally offered the FFML though, which was to write
the most outrageous fic one could possibly think of beginning with
the line, "Space is a really, really empty place". Here's my
attempt, late though it may be, a crossover between Star Trek: The
Next Generation, Bubblegum Crisis, and Pinky and the Brain from the
Animaniacs. Enjoy...
Oh, while I was writing this post, I came up with an idea for a
seqel. Imagine: the Warnerbumas have been captured by Genom, forced to
perform in straight dramas, and then locked in an air traffic control tower
near the Genom headquarters. But on one fateful day, the Warnerbumas
escaped... *evil grin*
Here's the long-awaited fic. (I think) C&C appreciated, but be sure and
email it to me directly. I am not currently on the FFML. I don't have the
time to read it from work (which is what this account is), and I don't have
enough room on my school account that I can dial into from home. :-/ I
miss the spam of the old days... *sigh*
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Springtime for Brain in MegaTokyo, by Damon Casale
A gay romp with Brain and friends, showing the real mouse behind
the universe-conquering complex.
Prologue
Space is a really, really empty place. A mind-numbingly empty
place. So mind-bogglingly empty that that singular thought had consumed
Picard for the past three days. During those past three days, they had
been trailing a dancing shadow of an anomaly at warp seven. A faint energy
reading, an influx of neutrinos, and then it was gone again. He moaned
silently. Exploring the galaxy wasn't supposed to be like this.
Picard rested an elbow on his chair, and his head in that hand,
slumping forward slightly. "I need a change of scene," he mumbled to
himself.
And then the face appeared.
It was a familiar face. Irritatingly familiar. It was wearing
that same, inhumanly mocking smile it always wore.
It spoke. "And so you shall have it, Picard."
I
Ahem. As I was saying, space is a really, really empty place. Of
course, that wasn't very important, since there really was only one
wickedly cool spot to be in all of it, and that was MegaTokyo, Earth.
It was a dark day in MegaTokyo. This was unusual, not because the smog-
covered city was never anything *but* dark, nor because the mastermind
behind Genom was plotting another insanely evil plan. It was simply
because the unusual event of a solar eclipse had made things slightly
darker all around than usual. The streetlamps would be on for about an
hour, and then business, and scheming, would return to usual.
In the meantime however, the scheming took on a very sinister
character, indeed.
The Chairman sat behind his polished, oak desk, drumming his
fingers quietly. It was a soothing sensation, he thought. It helped
him concentrate on matters of importance. In this particular instance, the
business of imagining new ways to enervate the life out of the populace.
They were too secure for their own good. Of course, there was also the
matter of distracting him from the extreme lateness of his personal
'lackey', as it were. 'Pinky', as he had come to call the buma, after
someone had made the mistake of suggesting it upon noticing its bizarre
tendency to crack its voice at the end of nearly every sentence. That
someone had died almost on the spot, a victim of the buma's efficiently
deadly reflexes. Pity he couldn't remember the damn fool's name any more.
He would have awarded a fat bonus to his next of kin for finding the one
way in existence of irritating the blasted creature. Now of course, he'd
found other ways, but that had been the first. As such, it was a memory to
be savored, and a torture to be oft uttered in fiendish glee, fiend that he
was.
At that moment, the office door burst open, and was carefully
caught before it slammed with terrific force into the wall. In strode a
pair of red, gleaming eyes attached to an equally menacing body. The most
notable part of Pinky was its long proboscis of a nose, hooked, with a
singularly disgusting wart protruding from the end. How R&D had managed
such a laughable growth had better have been an accident. It had brought
no end of trouble, mainly from having to continually hire replacements for
those just dim enough to be obvious about noticing it.
"Sir," it began, and then stopped. The Chairman waited a long
moment before choosing to notice the intrusion, and then steepled his
fingers. "Your report, then."
Pinky growled inwardly at the albino. One does not simply
*ignore* a buma, never mind the circumstances or the rank. However, he
knew that he could not successfully run Genom without the Chairman. Too
many questions would be asked, and he wasn't up to slaughtering half of the
execs that would have trouble with his appearance. It seemed odd that he'd
never even noticed until a singularly unpleasant incident with an engineer,
a toothbrush, and a very squeaky finger. Not that it mattered now.
"Current population control measures are becoming ineffective," he
finally continued. The recent accidental creation of the renegade
Warnerbumas was...unfortunate." He mentally kicked himself. That
oh-so-human hesitation he had picked up from the lower ranking Genom
employees, faced with a very bitchy buma, had begun to get on his nerves,
now that he had them. "However, their capture was inevitable. Although
they have been retained for further study by our capable--" The word came
out with a snort. "--engineers, you need not concern yourself with them,
and the sizable resistance they offered to your routine prototype debugging
operations."
Brain held up a hand. "The Knight Sabers were always more of a
concern than those freaks of supernature. I simply have what I have
always had: an accurate, if costly, measure of the SPATKS* statistic.
While I admit the Knight Sabers have in the past thwarted some of my less
clever plans, this time...this time...." His eyes glazed over. Which was
rather difficult to distinguish from the norm, his eyes being, on the
whole, a bright, putrid pink. A faint sheen, a vague reflection of light -
these were all Pinky noticed. But it was enough.
* Ed. Note: SPATKS - Staying Power Against The Knight Sabers; see "The
Reluctant Buma"
The buma patiently waited out his master's base imaginings, nearly
audibly whirring and clicking through his mind like an old pinball
machine in desperate need of repair. After an agonizingly long moment,
Brain continued. "Prototype D-Alpha-221 will be ready by tomorrow.
However, due to the small upset caused by the Warnerbuma incident, we
cannot risk any further damage to our MegaTokyo-pristine reputation. That
being the case, we will need a testing site that is guaranteed to be free
of any civilians. And I have the perfect plan." He gestured. "Come, Pinky.
We have work to do."
II
"A theater. Worse, a stage theater. What in all of Q's name does a
theater have to do with taking over the world?" Pinky growled. Not that
he could do much *but* growl, except squeak. The spring humidity, coupled
with the effervescent smog, was making it harder not to.
Brain simply gazed lovingly at the low building. "It's the
answer, Pinky. We need a test site, and this is it."
The buma shrugged. "Sure, it's abandoned. But what's so clever
about a damn theater?" Then he flinched when Brain gave him a deadly icy
stare, the kind that would freeze hell over and go on to cool down a
supernova or three. "Shut up, Pinky. It's perfect, because I have the
perfect deterrent for any possible interference, a play so disgustingly
awful that not even its author would attend the grand opening if we paid
him. We tried. He refused, saying it was meant for his mother, and that
only she would understand it. Then he committed suicide."
Pinky shrugged again. "I still say you're taking a risk. How do
we get the Knight Sabers here, and the prototype, without anyone noticing?"
Brain smiled coldly. "That's the beauty of it, Pinky. They're in
the play. They're *all* in the play!"
"Shit," muttered Priss, holding the broken cane. "Why the hell
are we *doing* this, Sylia?"
Sylia sighed at the pile of broken black canes piled in one corner of
the dressing room, and handed Priss another replacement. "After last week,
I'm surprised you'd ask." Priss nodded grimly, taking the cane and
twirling it in the air. "Good publicity, I know. If only we hadn't had so
much trouble with those three bumas."
Linna stifled a giggle when the cane shattered against the wall
next to her head. She moved her chair a few inches farther away,
finally managing a reasonably straight face. "You know though, that
one...was it Wakko? Chewing that one prototype buma's leg right off..."
Her face twitched, spasmed, and finally hardened into a frown again. Priss
had been buried beneath the incapacitated buma, unable to move until the
other Knight Sabers had found something resembling a crowbar to lever it
off of her.
Priss grabbed another cane and began stabbing it at an imaginary
audience. It was far more satisfying than listening to Linna's mangled
relation of the past week's events. She concentrated on the cane, twirling
and spinning it in the air, flipping it up and catching it. The hardsuit
was more impediment than aid, though, as she fumbled and dropped the cane
twice while trying to catch it. It wasn't entirely the hardsuit's fault,
since on the second fumble she had been tapped on the shoulder. Forgetting
the cane for a moment and furiously spinning around, she found herself face
to face with the infamous Chairman of Genom. "Pardon me for intruding," he
began quietly, "but we need to talk."
Priss took a moment to recover her composure, glaring icily at the
albino. His hair was white, his pallor was deathly, and the only thing
with any color at all about him was his eyes. She gestured flippantly at
Sylia, who had just turned to gaze calmly at the pair, a large, ugly buma
hovering behind them, interrupting her own rehearsal routine. "Talk to her,
she's in charge," Priss grumbled. She turned and stalked away. "She'd
better know what she's doing," she muttered to herself.
Sylia nodded curtly at the Chairman. "We'll be ready, but I'm
just warning you now. If this is a trick, and something happens
somewhere else in the city while we're here--" Brain dismissed the
possibility with a wave of his hand. "I'm as concerned as you are,
Sylia. I truly regret what happened, and I'm doing my best to show the
world that Genom is not the evil monster it has been made out to be. Isn't
that right, Pinky?" He smiled back at the buma glaring menacingly at the
Knight Sabers. "Narf," Pinky growled.
"I said, *isn't that right*, Pinky?" Brain narrowed his eyes,
which darkened and reddened, giving him the appearance of another
smaller buma, straining at the leash. "Narf," Pinky squeaked
obediently. Brain turned to smile icily back at the four women. "Pinky
will be part of the play as well. He'll personally oversee the entire
production, and make absolutely sure nothing goes wrong."
III
Half an hour later, the curtain was ready to rise. The actors and
actresses were ready to perform. Brain was tense. He'd never tried
sunglasses before, and certainly not oversized ones. The pink-rimmed
spectacles were quite a spectacle, and he was continually pushing them back
onto his very stubby nose. But showbusiness was showbusiness, and the show
must go on, he thought to himself, weary with anticipation.
The curtain ascended, quieting the seated crowd. The Chairman,
pausing for a sweeping bow, strode out onto the stage.
"Greetings, assembled gentlepersons of every persuasion!" he
began. "It is my pleasure and honor to present to you this day,
'Springtime in Megatokyo'. And now..."
The Knight Sabers began singing in chorus, keeping time and kick.
(To the tune of "Springtime for Hitler in Germany")
"Genom corp. was having trouble
What a sad, sad story!
Needed a new buma
To restore its former glory!"
"What, oh what can it be?
What improvements will you see?
We worked all week
For what we seek
Is a buma for you and me!"
"And...now...it's..."
Brain began his lead in an uncharacteristically deep and musical
voice.
"Springtime for Genom, and Tokyo!
Nippon is happy, and gay! (we did a survey!)
We're marching to a faster pace
Look out! Here comes the only ace!"
"Springtime for Genom, and Tokyo!
Winter for Cyber-Japan! (they don't stand a chance!)
Springtime for Genom, and Tokyo!
Now Sabers, go into your dance!"
Priss tapped and caned, leading the other Knight Sabers in several
complicated steps and twists. Finally, after pulling out seen other canes
and juggling them between the four of them, she tossed them one by one into
the disgruntled audience.
The chairman, meanwhile, added a monologue to the dance.
"Genom's in my blood and veins
And that is why they call me Brain!"
Then Pinky piped up. Squeaked, in fact.
"Genom made me tough and hardy!
Even taught me how to party!"
The dance slowed into a marching step, and the song continued.
"Springtime for Genom, and Tokyo--Tokyo--Tokyo--T--!"
A delicate *thunk* was heard from somewhere backstage, and Brain
stopped skipping. And a gunshot, and then another, richocheted across the
air.
"A buma in your home today!"
Machine gun fire echoed from the rafters.
"He'll serve your every desire today..."
A speaker squawking with feedback hissed, "This is the AD Police,
responding to the reported berzerk buma in the 9th district..."
"Genom is on the rise again!"
By the end of the song, some of the audience were laughing, some
were booing, and the rest didn't know what to think. The albino grinned
inwardly, and walked offstage. Then a thundering drumroll echoed
throughout the theater, metamorphosing into a high spirited beat. The
Knight Sabers took up their own tale.
(To the tune of "Puttin' On the Ritz")
"If you're scared and you don't know
Where to turn to, why don't you call
Us and we'll mix...
A buma espiritz!"
"Different types who hide inside
Human forms and jump out and scare you
Out of your wits...
We mash 'em all to bits!"
"Dressed up like a billion dollar goon
With...red eyes,
Tryin' mighty hard to kill and trash and terrorize!
Just like the big guys..."
Priss executed a daring tapdance routine, pounding the stage
repeatedly with her last cane in time with the music. Sylia and Linna
followed at a less frantic pace, while Nene seriously got down and boogied
on the floor. [Ed. Note: for all of those who've seen the rappers do the
spin on the floor, this is what I'm talking about ;]
"Come on, let's all enjoy
The miracle of buma convenience
But if they're on the fritz...
Call us! We never miss."
The music ended with one final trumpet blast. Pinky and the Brain
returned to the stage, and the Knight Sabers beat a hasty retreat to stage
left. With a short musical intro from a kazoo and tuba duet, the two began
their song.
(To the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel")
"Without so much as a whimper or hiss,
The bumas serve your needs.
Yet, I get the blame for all this,
Whenever they go to pieces!"
At this point, most of the audience had had enough, and several got up
to leave. Unfortunately, it was this precise moment that the new prototype
chose to make her appearance from behind the curtains.
"Mousey!" She screamed at the top of her mechanically
superefficient lungs. For all of her three and a half foot stature, the
stage shook with each step she took, breaking into a near-run in her mad
dash for the Chairman, who suddenly blanched an even paler shade of white.
"Not yet! You've ruined everything, you mechanical--get away from me!!"
The ensuing chaos onstage was more than enough to convince the
audience that the show was worth staying for after all. Even upon the
arrival of an unexpected guest...
...for at that moment Q stepped out of a flash of light, and
smiled at the stricken audience.
(To the tune of "The Star Trek Song")
Q: "Star Trekkin', across a sea of stars,
Travelin' in the Enterprise, under old Picard.
Star Trekkin', across the endless night;
Always finding trouble, 'cause we just aren't too bright!"
"E-volution, has had its way with us,
Saddled us with Wesley and that ogrish Klingon cuss!
De-volution, we tried it - found it bland;
But Jon-Luc put a stop to it, and Worf can learn to stand!"
He flashed out of existence, reappearing as Worf, with an
exaggerated brow and a caveman club. Gesturing at the audience crudely, he
bellowed,
"The!! --borg are off the starboard bow,
Starboard bow, the starboard bow.
The borg are off the starboard bow,
The starboard bow, sir."
Q-Worf vanished, and Q reappeared as himself again.
"Just one encounter, and they're mad enough to cry,
'We're too chicken anyway, so save us 'ere we die!'
A snap of my fingers, a wave of my hand;
'The borg are gone and so are we, stop it!' They demand."
Another display of pyrotechnics, and Dr. Crusher appeared.
"It's!! --worse than that, he's sprained his ankle,
Sprained his ankle, sprained his ankle.
It's worse than that, he's sprained his ankle,
On the holodeck!"
And Yar...
"Yea!! --it's alive but not for long,
Not for long, not for long.
Yea it's alive but not for long,
Phaser setting three!"
And Worf again.
"The borg are off the starboard bow,
Starboard bow, starboard bow.
The borg are off the starboard bow,
Shall we fire now?"
Q was himself again.
"Star Trekkin', across a sea of stars,
Travelin' in the Enterprise, under bald Picard!
Star Trekkin', into the bright sunset;
Always plagiarizing, hey Spock you're not dead yet??"
This time, it was Geordi.
"The!! --Enterprise is about to explode!
About to explode, hey take a photo.
The Enterprise is about to explode!
Again. Damn time loops..."
Picard, suddenly finding himself in the midst of the audience
instead of merely watching from an anonymous vantage point, felt his jaw
drop as he saw himself appear on stage. From the third row of seats, he
could see Q as he, chuckling mockingly at him.
"We!! --come in peace and we're PC!
You are too? Wow, IDIC!
We come in peace and we're PC!
That's hardly news to me."
Again, Dr. Crusher leered up at him. Picard moaned. "Stop it,
Q!"
Epilogue
Things were brightening a little outside of the tall, conical
building that was the headquarters of Genom corporation. The
streetlights winked off, one by one. The Chairman was standing by the
glass wall, staring out into the MegaTokyo skyline. Towards the west, a
dull, ruddy ball of light was slowly emerging from the smog, descending
towards the ground. Brain blinked once, and continued to stare at it.
"Nine minutes. It only took them nine minutes to obliterate the prototype.
Improving, but not nearly enough." He coughed quietly. "Next time, Pinky.
And there will always be a next time. Another day, and another night.
Leave. I have to think."
Pinky stood by the door. "Tomorrow night, then?" Brain nodded
without looking. "It's the same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to
take over the world!" His eyes gleamed ferally.
After a moment the door began to close. Brain turned, glancing
back at the buma. "Save me a cheese sandwich. I'll be up late."