Subject: [spoof chase] Magical Troubleshooting Crossover Fighting Tournament BETA : Prologue
From: Twoflower
Date: 8/14/1997, 2:39 PM
To: fanfic@fanfic.com

Comments to : twoflowr@glue.umd.edu, NOT twoflowr@maison-otaku.net.
Please. :)  Round 1 will be posted directly after this.

-=-


     And He said, 'Let there be light.'
     And He regretted it ever since.
     On the whole, it hadn't been the greatest of universes. 
Granted, it turned out better than most He had developed, since
some never really got beyond hitting each other over the head
with rocks and dragging mates off by the hair, but generally
these rascally humans didn't listen to Him.  Maybe He hadn't
handled them very well, or maybe He hadn't used the right mix of
clay when He made them... but either way, it wasn't all to His
liking.  (Besides, the seas were entirely the wrong color.  HE
wanted them to be pink, but to change it now would be admitting a
mistake.)
     He was supposed to be here for this lot until the end of
time.  Unpleasant notion.  He really had much more interesting
things He could be doing.  There was some building space in a
universe next door and He had this interesting idea for small
blue people that live in mushroom houses.
     Of course, He couldn't just leave the Earth to fend for
itself.  That wouldn't be proper.
     So the decision was made.
     And this time, even if He regretted it, hey; He was OUTTA
there.

                     SPOOF CHASE PRODUCTIONS
                 (http://spoof.maison-otaku.net/)
                           PRESENTS...

   Magical Troubleshooting Crossover Fighting Tournament BETA :
                            Prologue

     A Street Fighter / Darkstalkers / Toshinden / Ranma 1/2
       Samurai Showdown / Groove On Fight / Teenage Mutant
         Ninja Turtles / And Many Others Reader-Voting
                      Tournament Fanfic

                 by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne

     (All characters copyright other people, obviously.  If I
     ever even considered claiming that these were my own
     characters I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where
     I'd be forced to eat my own super combos to live.)

-=-

[Chapter I, Act I.  Heaven.]

     They weren't very happy about it.
     "You've GOT to be kidding me," Urd balked.
     "I don't kid," the Lord noted.  "Not very often, anyway. 
It's in my divine right to do this, so I'm jolly well going to do
it."
     "But sir!  You can't just... LEAVE!" Skuld bawled.  "There's
the whole of creation to manage!  Things to do and species to
make!  If you leave, all that work is gonna fall on US... I'm too
young for stress-induced heart attacks!"
     Belldandy poured more tea.  "Now Skuld, you know better than
to think He would do such a thing to you.  I'm sure He has a very
good plan and is right in doing this."
     "You DO have a plan, right?" Urd asked.
     "A pretty simple one, actually," God smiled.  "We're going
to hold a tournament, and invite a group of random people from a
variety of dimensional offshoots to take place.  Whoever wins
gets to hold dominion over all of reality with the powers of God
to deal with as they please."
     A lead silence crashed over the room silently.
     Belldandy sipped her tea, unconcerned, while the other two
goddesses exploded.
     "That's RIDICULOUS!" Urd growled, with the traditional
irritated-fist-on-the-table-slamming maneuver.
     Skuld bawled louder.  "Sir, you can't make some lousy mortal
take your place!  They'll mess everything up!"
     "Hey, hey.  I've put a lot of thought into this," God
rebutted.  It was true; he spent about six minutes on the topic,
a far more gruelling contemplation than he usually bothered with. 
"Trust me!  It's a brilliant idea."
     "I'm sure He knows what He is doing," Belldandy smiled. 
"Besides, He is our Lord.  Even if we disagree, we must obey. 
Although it'd be much nicer for everybody if we agree to go along
with the plan cooperatively, ne?  Skuld-chan?"
     "It's stupid," Skuld grumbled.  "But I'll help."
     Urd shrugged.  "As long as our new first in command doesn't
try to limit me, I'm game." (Besides,) she thought, (I can always
poke the tournament into resulting in a winner who I can work
with...)
     "I heard that," Kamisama smirked.

                              *

     Skuld darted around Yggdrasil95, the world tree, the root
computer, the sole engine around which all of creation turns. 
She was busy stamping out the many bugs in the system that
resulted in things like pet rocks, bell bottoms or Batman movies.
     "It's not that I don't trust him-- Hold still, you!" Skuld
wheezed, trying to whack the furry little rodent with her hammer,
without hitting her oneesama.  "And I like that this gives me
leave of debugging-- QUIT MOVING!-- duty while the 'tournament is
on, but OW! My ankle!"
     "Be careful, Skuld-chan," Belldandy warned warmly.
     Hopping on one foot, the younger megami continued.  "It just
seems like He's been acting funny these last few years.  I still
don't understand why he personally went down on the planet to
give that Yankovic kid an accordion for his birthday."
     "It's all part of the ineffable plan," Belldandy smiled. 
"Everything works as a piece to a puzzle nobody can see but Him. 
The subtle manuverings of His glory eventually add up to a more
perfect world for all concerned.  Happens every time.  Really,
Skuld-chan, you don't have to worry so much."
     "I don't-- AAAA! Just missed! Get back here you little--"
*TOCK* *puff* "PHEW.  One down!"
     Belldandy clapped politely, and offered Skuld a victory
cookie, which she gratefully accepted.
     "So what do we do first?" Skuld asked, munching.
     "He wants us to make invitations, and collect His chosen
ones for the competition," Belldandy said, pulling a scroll from
somewhere in her complex but very stylish megami ensemble.  "He's
compiled a list of selected warriors for the task, three from
each quantum dimensional pocket.  I'm assured this is a good and
well-thought out grouping."
     Skuld looked over the list.
     Then she looked over it again.
     "Ineffable plan, right?" she asked.
     Belldandy nodded.
     "Hooboy... God help us all," Skuld muttered.
     "I'm sure He will, Skuld-chan."

                              *

[Chapter I, Act II. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'SFA2'.]

     The sun shone brightly over a nondescript japanese suburb. 
The birds sang in harmony, and the passers by on the street
greeted each other politely.  Wash was hung out to dry, and meals
prepared, and newspapers read.  Life progressed without calamity,
disturbance or difficulty.
     Sakura flopped out of her front door, knocked off balance as
her father dove to grab her legs.  Her schoolbag with all her
travelling gear, modelled to resemble Ryu-sama's, flew out from
her arms and spilled her various toothbrushes, little bags of
nachos and phone cards.
     "Please, Sakura-chan, don't go!!" her dad begged.  "You
could get hurt!  You could get maimed!  Not another tournament,
pleaaaase!"
     Sakura kicked her father away, grumbling.  "Jeez, Dad!  It's
just a tournament.  It's not like I haven't been in them before."
     "But last time, you were gone for THREE MONTHS!"
     "Well, it was worldwide.  Travelling takes time."
     "You worry your poor father when you go away that long! 
What if you're doing things that will damage your school career
and you won't make it into the more reputable colleges??"
     "Dad, I'm going to this tournament and that's final!  I was
invited and everything!" Sakura said, showing him the unusually
angelic script on the yellowed parchment of the invitation. 
"This is my big chance!  Ryu-sama'll probably be there, he's
always invited to these sorts of things!"
     "I'm not letting go!  Daddy's little girl should stay at
home!" her father whined, hanging onto her leg.  "No more of this
silly fighting nonsense.  You need to settle down and get serious
about your studies, or else your career path will be skewed and
according to most common essays on the subject you will be
shunted into a lower tax bracket with no hope of returning to a
proper socio-economic stasis, in which..."
     By the time he had finished his speech, he noticed he was
only holding a sock, and a shoe with recently untied shoelaces.

                              *

     Sakura didn't stop her flat-out run until she was sure she
was at the radius of her dad's movement range.  The old man
probably couldn't make it this far without needing a good lie
down somewhere, so she should be safe.
     She unrolled the scroll again, reading it.
     'You have been invited to the Yggdrasil Successional
Fighting Tournament.  Please show at' and then, scratched in with
a red crayon, 'Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors', then back to the
flowing script with 'for your designated pickup ride to the
tournament.'
     She looked up, and conveniently, had stopped right outside
the ice cream store in question.  A miracle!  Well, a small
miracle, but never kick a gift miracle in the mouth, she always
said.
     Adjusting her Ryu-sama imitation white cloth headband(tm)
for a good impression, she stepped into the shop.  It was empty,
save one customer.
     "Oh, hi!" Skuld greeted, waving.  "Hang on, I've got 27 more
flavors to go, then we can split."

                              *

     Urd sized up the guy she was sent to pick up.
     At first she balked at this job.  Here she was, goddess
first class limited, in one of the highest offices in the
celestial hierarchy, and she was being used as an errand boy.  It
was insulting!
     Then again, this WAS a pretty impressive hunk of man.  Sure,
she had to go to a bathroom in England to find him, but anybody
who is almost as wide as they are tall, loaded with muscle, and
with a cute little moustache is probably interesting enough to
offset the demeaning job of fetching him.
     Besides, nobody said they had to go back RIGHT AWAY...
     "Hey, handsome, you..." She checked her list again. 
"'Birdie'?"
     The giant thumped his chest so hard he fell over backwards. 
After getting back up, he bellowed, "I am NUMBAH ONE!"
     "Yeah, but are you Birdie?" Urd asked.  Okay, maybe he
wasn't big on brains...
     "I BIRDIE!" he hooted, waving his arms around again.  The
overall momentum of all that muscle in motion knocked him flat
again.
     Make that very low on brains.
     "Come with me, please," she sighed, beckoning.

                              *

     Sagat glared at the little man.
     The Mui Thai kickboxer had not been having a pleasant day. 
First he couldn't get a taxi that could accommodate his bulk to
take him down to the business district, then when he finally got
there, the gym was closed.  He was between tournaments, and
training was key to keeping in shape for the next challenge.
     The little man barely ranked as a challenge.  More like an
annoyance.
     "Insolent dog!" Dan barked, jumping in place.  He reminded
Sagat of an enraged poodle.  Dyed pink.  "My name is DAN HIBIKI! 
You killed my father!  Prepare to die!"
     "Please stop following me," Sagat asked.  "It's been years
now since that fight.  Either kill yourself or let it go.  These
pathetic challenges grow tiresome."
     "Prepare to be annihilated at the MIGHTY IRON FISTS OF DAN!"
Dan screamed, voice cracking somewhere around 'mighty'.
     The glorious combat ensued, the righteous fight of vengeance
which would go down forever in history books.  The two warriors,
squared off in the field of rivalry, stared each other down with
the pure burning essence of the samurai, framed against the
setting sun of the Thailand Questionable Goods Shopping District.
     The entire fight consisted of Dan leaping into the air,
kicking around like a thrashing emu, followed immediately by
Sagat whomping his ass into the pavement and taking the bus home
so he wouldn't miss Seinfeld.
     Twitching, face embedded into the cement, Dan knew that
although he had the superior skill in this fight, the murderous
beast had just gotten lucky and he'd be defeated next time, after
Dan's bones healed.
     A goddess stepped down from heaven beside him, and spoke
onto Dan : "Oh my... are you alright, Mr. Hibiki?"
     "Medic," Dan struggled to say.
     Belldandy smiled, and chanted a short blessing of healing. 
Then a longer one when the first one didn't bend the pink-wearing
self taught shotokan weenie's elbow back the right way.

                              *

     Urd led the giant guy with a hole in his hair, hanging onto
his arm and giggling.  The two stopped at the golden gates of
Heaven, shining with the infinite goodness of the pure spirit,
while Urd fumbled in a pocket for her keys.
     "I must say, you make up for your little vocabulary problem
quite nicely," she smiled, laying the charm on with a trowel.
     "Birdie STRONG!" Birdie commented, pounding on his chest
again.
     "That you are.  Dammit, where'd my keys... don't tell me I
left them in my other robes..."
     Skuld showed up on the Escalator from the Mortal Plane, in
busy conversation.
     "...not here?" Sakura gaped.  "But it's a tournament.  Ryu-
sama is ALWAYS at these sorts of tournaments."
     "It's not part of the 'Ineffable Plan'," Skuld shrugged. 
"I'm not quite sure why either, but most of the well known
fighters weren't invited.  Don't worry, though, the... uh...
prize is something you might be able to use to see him."
     "Oh, okay," Sakura smiled.  "So, where are we?"
     "Heaven."
     "Is that near Tokyo?"
     Urd looked over to Skuld.  "Do you have your keys?  I think
mine fell out of my pocket in England."
     "I loaned mine to Loki," Skuld shrugged.  "Oneesama might
have hers."
     "Did someone call?" Belldandy asked, floating up towards the
cloudy expanse of the heavens and landing gently on one toe, then
dumping her load of martial artist unceremoniously on the floor.
     "Ugh.  What is that THING?" Urd gaped.  "Pink went out of
style years ago!"
     "He's a nice man called Dan Hibiki.  It's not polite to make
fun of someone's clothes," Belldandy accused, but in her soft,
non-accusatory way.  "Could someone get a stretcher for him?"

                              *

[Chapter I, Act III. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'DS'.]

     The sun shone brightly over a nondescript forest.  The birds
sang in harmony, and squirrels ran through the leafy green trees,
storing nuts for the winter to come.  It was very pastoral. 
Likely some aria would be playing, if there was a conveniently
located orchestra around.
     A little girl in a red hood skipped along the forest path,
toting a picnic basket and singing to herself one of those songs
whose only lyrical word is 'La'.  It went :
     o/~ La la la, la la
         La la la, la la
         La la la, la la
         La la la, la la
         La, la, la la. o/~
     And repeated over and over until the singer collapsed from
exhaustion.  But with the boundless energy and joy the cute
little red hooded girl exuded, it was unlikely she'd stop until
the next two presidencies had come and gone, or until the shadowy
lurking figure stepped in her path.
     The little girl skidded to a halt in mid-cute-skip, and
looked up, and up.
     John Talbain grinned wolvishly.  "What's in the basket,
little girl?"
     B.B. Hood, as she was known, smiled, and held up the picnic
basket.  "These are goodies for my grandmother, who isn't feeling
well.  My, what big eyes you have, Mr. Wolf!"
     Talbain smirked.  "The better to--"
     "I hate big eyes!" the girl said, whipping out a fully
automatic Uzi machine gun with a small tag reading 'stolen from
the gun rack of Lara Croft' and hosing the wolf down with thirty
rounds of red hot lead.
     The wolf scattered like a frightened wolf, and after
shooting a few rockets from her basket at it and blowing up a
good portion of the landscape and causing the extinction of at
least two kinds of forest animal, the little girl went back to
singing and skipping along.
     She wasn't going to let any big bad wolves stop her from
visiting her grandmother.  Or from going to that tournament she
got an invitation for.  Funny, how they knew where she was going
and when, and agreed to pick her up there.  But her kawaii widdle
head wasn't suited for wondering the whys of things, as she
danced musically through the happy little forest, dreaming happy
little thoughts.

                              *

     "Watashi wa Vampire Hunter," Donovan thought aloud to
himself in soliloquy, as is his wont.  "Half Darkstalker, half
human, doomed to wander the earth purging the land of the evil
which infests it.  With my sword as my guide, I carve a path
through the darkness and shatter it.  With my spirit as my guide,
I righteously smash my enemy.  With..."
     All the little girl with the headless doll was thinking was
'What an ego.'
     Things hadn't been going well between the two.
     Initially, life was groovy.  Anita had as a result of
mysterious and half-explained arcane powers, obtained Donovan's
ability to sense Darkstalkers.  Teaming up with the man was an
obvious option.  Together they had wandered around getting into
fights with vampires, werewolves, and so forth.
     Despite not being able to show emotion for another half-
explained arcane reason, Anita was beginning to feel bored with
it all.
     They never stopped to have a good rest or properly eat
anything.  Even when the weather was bad, they'd continue the
journey; of course, HE had that stupid, giant hat to keep the
rain away.  Donovan was too cheap to spring for Happy Meals, or
for a moment in a laundromat for her to wash her doll.  He also
was a real drag to hang around, always thinking out loud and
angsting.  Angsting even more than SHE did.  At least she didn't
bore people to death with her sad tale of destiny and fate; he
felt free to bore everybody within listening distance.
     And his sword looked like a freakin' can opener.
     If things didn't change pronto, she'd have to find some
other moody vigilante to hang around.
     So wrapped in her thought was she that she didn't notice
when she bumped into Donovan who had bumped into a goddess.
     "Hello!  Did you get our invitation?" Belldandy asked.
     Donovan easily reached inner peace and calm after the chance
encounter, and revealed the scroll.  "I have.  I am prepared to
undertake this journey."
     "Not you, sir.  Her," Belldandy said, pointing to Anita.
     Despite having no emotions due to half-explained and arcane
reasons, she blinked in surprise.
     "What?" Donovan asked.  "Surely you are not serious."
     "I am, and please, don't call me Shirley.  Come along,
little girl, let's go," Bell-sama smiled.
     Donovan looked imploringly at Anita.  "This cannot be.  We
are bound to our quest to eliminate the darkness.  I have the
sword, besides, not you."
     She considered this for all of three seconds before
scurrying along after Belldandy.

                              *

     The stage rocked.  The crowd roared.  The speakers went to
11, and Lord Raptor was loving every minute of it.
     Move over, GWAR.  Take a hike, Marilyn Manson.  Raptor's
Army of Darkness was THE shock rock band of the 90's, with its
unique blend of punk guitar stylings, progressive backbeat, and
paganic ritual performed live and on stage.  The parents hated
it, Rolling Stone called it grotesque and it sold a hellacious
amount of albums.
     The average Army of Darkness concert consisted of some
music, followed by a minor demonic summoning, then music, then
maybe sacrificing a goat, then music, then biting the head off a
rat and spitting it into the crowd before packing it in and
heading off to the hotel with some cute groupies to show them how
long his bones really were.
     Sure, he was supposed to be working for some devil in the
underworld and preparing these foolish humans for an invasion,
but that didn't mean he couldn't have a few perks.
     "Here's a little song I call 'Cook and Eat Your Parents'!"
he shouted into the mike, before cranking out an endless series
of riffs on his chainsaw/guitar/personal evil soul weapon.
     So into his hardcore punk groove that he didn't notice when
the large vaudeville hook had snagged around his waist, jerking
him offscreen.
     Urd set the hook aside, and frowned at the undead rocker. 
"Honestly.  We gave VERY specific instructions on the invitation. 
Time and place.  And here I am having to track you down."
     "OI!  You mind?!" Raptor snarled.  "Ahm in the middle of a
gig 'ere!  You just wait your turn, missie!"
     Urd pulled out a small flask marked 'Holy Water'.  "I didn't
want to HAVE to use this--"
     "All set," Raptor said, closing his guitar case and picking
up all six of his suitcases.  "Let's go."

                              *

     "Oneesama, are you sure about these guys?" Skuld quietly
said, as Urd hustled the weird looking trio through the heavenly
gates.  "I could swear I saw that thin guy on the Heaven's Most
Wanted List."
     "It's all part of the plan, Skuld-chan.  Besides, isn't it
notice to have some playmates more your age around?" Belldandy
smiled.
     "Oneesama, I'm thousands of years old."
     "Oh, right.  Gomen."

                              *

[Chapter I, Act III. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'Tosh3'.]
     Vermillion was bored.
     The meeting of his Secret Organization had been going on for
two hours now, and they couldn't decide what color they wanted
for the curtains in the Secret Hideout, much less take over the
Nicaraguan drug industry.
     "Black!"
     "Red!"
     "Black!"
     "RED!!"
     Verm pulled his antique pistol, and gave one of the two
arguers an extra hole in his head.
     "Black," Verm smiled.  "I like black."
     There.  A much simpler way to settle things.  Unfortunately,
if he knocked off a Goon for every decision that needed to be
made, he'd have to start dipping into the Faceless Minions to get
replacement Goons.  The work of a supervillian was never done.
     "Gentlemen," Verm said, rising so he could get maximum
intimidation factor through sheer height, "I believe this meeting
is going nowhere.  You have exactly twenty seconds to decide what
to do on all points raised before I start throwing out bodies."
     That brought about swift agreement.
     "Take over Nicaragua."
     "Buy the shares in Microsoft."
     "Lean on Rodman for those gambling debts."
     "Change the formula to Coke again."
     Verm smiled.  "Excellent.  Now beat it, I have a prior
engagement."
     As the Goons filed out his meeting room, he opted to go
change into his familiar trenchcoat before going to this
interesting sounding tournament.  He hated this silly tuxedo, but
as a supervillian, you were expected to dress nicely.
     Urd was waiting for him when he reached his private
chambers.  "All set to go?"

                              *

     Someone already wearing a spiffy trenchcoat was outside the
Secret Hideout, very noisily cutting his way through a door with
a large chainsaw.
     From the outside, it wasn't much.  Not A Secret Hideout
Ramen and Noodles was a basic restaurant, with basic customers
who just all happened to look seedy and carry guns.  David knew
from the investigation he had been doing that this was in fact
the headquarters of the Secret Organization.  Vermillion was in
charge of the whole thing, and he was here tonight; tonight David
would have revenge for the murder of his parents.  If only he
could get in without anybody noticing the grating, ear-shattering
noise of his chainsaw.
     It wasn't much of a weapon.  David wasn't much of a fighter,
actually.  He had only been in one tournament, the third
Toshinden, and was eliminated pretty early; he never had that
shot at Vermillion.  Time and time again the gangly bad guy had
messed with David's life; first by blowing up the car his parents
were in while assassinating some diplomat or something.  Then
when the state put him in Not A Satanic Cult Hideout Orphanage,
he found out Vermillion owned that place too, and barely escaped
with his life.  Then he found out Vermillion got the last
Tamagotchi at the local shopping mall before he could.  And
Vermillion had taken the last soup bread in the cafeteria!  He
would pay for these insults!
     The hole finally finished, David turned off the chainsaw,
and failed to climb through his inconspicuous entrance because
he'd cut it too small.
     "He already left," Urd said, polishing her nails on the
other side of the hole.  "But do I have an offer for you, boy..."

                              *

     "Now, what did I tell you about playing with my sword?"
Kayin Amoh said, trying to sound stern.
     "Never unless you said I could, daddy," Naru Amoh replied,
shuffling her feet in nervous guilt.
     Kayin sighed.  Daddying wasn't something that came naturally
to him.  He loved his adopted daughter quite dearly, and always
took her to those wonderful Miyazaki movies and bought her toys,
but he made a fatal mistake; he taught her how to swordfight like
he could.  It was a rainy afternoon, he didn't have anything else
to do, and she was watching him train.
     Now not only was she using his sword -- it was twice as big
as her, since she was only six years old, but somehow she could
swing it around a little -- but she had apparently toddled off to
the third Toshinden tournament to fight with it.  She had soundly
trashed six opponents before he found out she was there and took
her home.
     It was ridiculous, but Kayin had to admit, the l'il tyke had
the makings of an excellent fighter.  She'd mastered all his Ki
techniques, his sword forms, and even was able to spit fire.  Any
other father would be quite freaked out by this, but somehow,
things like that seemed as normal to Kayin as being able to be
slashed in half by a sword and only suffer damage from the
'sparklies' that you emit.
     "And what's this all about?" Kayin asked, bringing his focus
back to the present.  To the scroll.  "A tournament invitation? 
For you?"
     "Hai!  A nice lady gave it to me yesterday, and said I was
going today to fight!  It's gonna be a lot of FUN!" Naru cheered,
bouncing in one place cutely.
     "Naru-chan!  You can't go off to a tournament.  You're too
young."
     "Am not am not am NOT!  I'm so big and strong!" Naru said,
posing adorably.  "I can take on anybody!"
     Kayin laughed.  "Prove it."
     Six blows to the head, three laceration injuries, several
pummeling crushes and a few body slams and second degree skin
burns later, Kayin agreed to let her go.
     Doing a little victory dance, the adorable little moppet of
wanton destruction grabbed Kayin's sword and bounded out of the
house with it, clanging and clattering behind her.
                              *

     "YOU!" David snarled, pouncing Vermillion the minute he
reached the gates.
     "Whoa, whoa!" Urd yelped, yanking David away with a quick
spell.  "There'll be time for that later.  Settle down, Beavis."
     Vermillion giggled insanely.  "THAT little boy again?  Ha. 
He'll probably be eliminated before coming within fifty feet of
me, as before!"
     "I'll get you, you bastard!"
     "You and what army, kid?"
     "GRRRR!"
     "HA HA HA HA!"
     "My, such spirited people," Belldandy smiled.
     As Urd kicked/pushed/levitated the two through the gates,
giggling little girl bouncing along behind her, Skuld pointedly
ignored them and looked concerned over the next items on the
list.
     "Oneesama, I think there's a problem with these next
fighters," she said.
     "Oh?  Why?"
     "Well, their dimensional offset isn't... well, it has a lot
of fighting, and is sometimes aligned with the frequency the
others have, but..."
     "Hai, Skuld-chan?"
     "One of them isn't a fighter."

                              *

[Chapter I, Act IV. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'R1/2'.]

     The sun shone brightly over a the little prefecture of
Nerima.  The birds sang in harmony, and students greeted each
other on their way around the school grounds.  The Furinkan clock
tower rang out, indicating the start of class.
     Ukyou loitered outside the school, not quite sure what to
expect.  The scroll had been delivered to Ucchan's just the other
day, very vaguely indicating an invitation to some kind of
fighting tournament... she didn't mind, since business was slow
and Konatsu could upkeep the restaurant like he always did when
Ukyou wanted to have a life.  But it meant missing class, too.
     She wasn't the only one to miss class.  Wandering around
from the side of the building came none other than the Blue
Thunder of Furinkan High, Tatewaki Kunou.
     "Hark!  Ukyou Kounji!" Kunou spoke forth, greeting Ukyou in
a customary manner.  "I had not considered meeting you today in
my travels.  Do you go to this tournament too?"
     "YOU got an invitation?" Ukyou asked, incredulous.  "But...
but... you suck."
     "Taunt not the name of Tatewaki Kunou, for it is filled with
a spirit of vengeance against those who mock it," he warned.  "I
indeed was invited, as you seem to be equally.  No doubt my
prowess with the sword has been heralded far and wide!"
     "Maybe it was a typo," Ukyou said to herself.
     Where was Ran-chan? she thought.  If Kunou got an
invitation, surely he did as well.  Ranma's much stronger, more
agile, more skilled, more suave, more charming, more clever, more
handsome, more... more than Kunou.  Ideal for any sort of martial
arts competition.  He should be here any second now, if the
pickup is in a minute.
     Ranma came running up to the school, hurrying.  Ukyou
smiled.  "Ran-chan!  Over here!"
     "Can't talk, I'm late!" he shouted.
     "I know!  We'll be leaving in--"
     Without a word, Ranma continued to jog, right on into the
school doors and out of sight.
     "Ha ha!  Apparently Saotome is unworthy of the battle to
come!" Kunou laughed.
     "That's strange," Ukyou mused.  "If he's not going, then--"
     "Gomen nasa, am I late?" Kasumi asked.
     Ukyou leapt out of her skin.  Fortunately this was
impossible, so her skin stayed on for when she landed next to
Kasumi Tendo, who had changed into her nicest apron and was
carrying a small travel suitcase.
     "Ka, Ka, Kasumi?" Ukyou babbled.
     "This is the right place for the tournament, right?" Kasumi
asked, never losing her calming smile.  "I'm very excited about
this.  I was very surprised when Ranma told me that invitation
was actually addressed to me!  I hope I can make father proud."
     "Ah, does the noble Kasumi Tendo practice martial arts as
well?" Kunou asked.
     "Why, no.  Not at all," Kasumi smiled.

                              *

     "Maybe there's been a mistake," Skuld considered.  "I mean,
if she doesn't know how to fight, why is she on the list?"
     "There is a reason for everything," Belldandy assured the
younger goddess.  "I'll just hop down to the mortal world and
pick those three up now."
     "If I didn't know any better, I'd hazard He was being very
deliberately wacky," Skuld muttered.

                              *

[Chapter I, Act V. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'SS2'.]

     The sun shone brightly over feudal japan.  The birds sang in
harmony, and the wind whispered through the trees, and the earth
was torn asunder as the Dark World unleashed its fury into the
reality of earth, as the day went dark as sackcloth and the
purple crystalline mountains of Hell rose from the firey depths
of evil, a brilliantly shining temple of unholy spirituality
spawned from the center of damnation.
     Caffeine Nicotine, diminutive Bhuddist monk at large had to
admit that for a cataclysmic end to the world itself, it was
pretty impressive.
     Taking a long drag off his pipe and working a few kinks out
of his back, he considered again how he was really too old to be
doing this sort of thing.  Hunting down demons threatening to
take over the world was for younger folks, not elderly ones like
himself.  But since none of these whippersnappers could properly
do it, all busy fighting amongst themselves, Nicotine felt it was
his duty to handle the matter.  Better him than his ungrateful
pupil Hoahmaru, who couldn't even comb his hair, much less save
the planet.
     Leaping down from his vantage point, and running through the
recently revised landscape, Nicotine reached the center of the
disaster; the temple of the Dark Guy.
     Waiting for him was Mizuki.  He had known the girl back when
she was just a shinto priestess, not a possessed puppet of evil. 
Nice girl.  Always massaged his feet when his arthritis was
kicking in.  Meddled with a few too many questionable magics, but
kids today were apt to do that sort of thing.  She didn't have
that weird metallic ringing voice then, either.
     "THIS IS THE MEASLY OFFERINGS HUMANITY HAS TO CHALLENGE ME?"
Mizuki asked in capital letters, laughing madly.  "SURELY THIS
WILL BE NO EFFORT AT ALL."
     "Yes it will," Nicotine commented, swinging his Generic
Bhuddist Staff(tm) into attack position.  "And don't call me--"
     A large metal ship crashed down from the sky, landing right
on the temple and crushing it into matchsticks.  The explosion
knocked Nicotine flat, and covered his face with his Generic
Bhuddist Hat(tm) -- when he had it affixed back in place, there
was a weirdly dressed little girl examining the accident.
     "Wow, it worked!" Skuld clapped.  "I knew I could make a
better time machine than the Wings of Time!  I just needed to add
landing gear, is all..."
     Mizuki wasn't pleased.  "YOU HAVE DESTROYED MY TEMPLE, YOU
LITTLE WORM!  DIE!"
     Skuld pulled out a glorified vacuum cleaner.  "SWITCH ON!"
she shouted right back at Mizuki, and sprayed the demonic
priestess down with a white vapor.
     A nicely chilled and frozen Mizuki stood in one place,
completely failing to move.
     "That works too!  I'm such a genius!" the girl exclaimed,
giving herself a pat on the back.
     "Interesting magic," Nicotine commented.  "Saves me a lot of
time and energy, too.  Wasn't looking forward to fighting that
thing.  Who're you, little girl?"
     "My name is Skuld!  Goddess third class limited!" Skuld
said, bowing.
     "Ah," Nicotine said.  "Very good.  So, you'll be destroying
the demon now, right?"
     "Um, no.  I'm taking her to a tournament.  You're invited
too, actually."
     "What, now?"
     "Hai!"
     "Seems an awful waste to have to get into ANOTHER tournament
to hunt this particular monster down..."
     "Sorry, mister, but Kamisama ordained it," Skuld said,
bowing in apology.
     "Oh.  That's different," Nicotine said, perking up.  "Who am
I to judge His actions?  Lead on, little girl!"
     "Haaaai!" Skuld nodded, her odd looking spheroid man-servant
busy carrying Mizuki into the ship.
     She glanced over at the confused-looking Kabuki stagehand
carrying a red and white flag.
     "You're coming too," she added.

                              *

     "Nicotine, Mizuki, and... who're you?" Urd asked.
     "Kuroko," the black/purple clad fellow said, bowing sharply.
     "Right, Kuroko," Urd noted, making a tick mark on her
clipboard.  "If you gentlemen will please follow me, we have your
rooms ready so you can rest before we begin... we'll get someone
to take the ice cube along later."
     "What's this next place?" Skuld asked, pointing to her
computer.  "I've never heard of a reality called 'Groove On
Fight' before."
     "I think it's fairly new," Belldandy commented.  "Its
reality index is at 24%.  Not much is known about it, but they
have very nice people there."
     "24%?!  That means it hasn't even finished forming yet!"
Skuld complained.  "Anybody we take there could be wildly
different from their final state.  Why would He want fighters
from an untranslated, unknown reality?"
     "It's all part of--"
     "I know, I know."

                              *

[Chapter I, Act VI. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'GOF'.]

     The cow fell from the blimp, and exploded in a shower of
purple splatter.
     M.A.D. chuckled.  Everybody had said it was daft to conduct
an experiment where you throw livestock from an airborne status
while pumping them rapidly full of grape juice, but he did it all
the same!  And every time, his theory was proven correct : the
animal invariably died.  Only a genius like him could conduct an
experiment which was guaranteed a 100% success rate.  And those
bastards at M.I.T. had kicked him out?  They didn't know what
they were missing.
     Granted, he didn't know he had applied to M.I.T. until he
thought of it just now.  He didn't really know much about
himself.  Oh, he knew his weapons, his really cool coat with the
huge mechanical arms, and his lab with the screaming face
impressed in the metal; but not much else.  He didn't know why he
was here or who he was.  Or even what M.A.D. stood for, really,
because he knew the F.A.Q. was woefully incomplete.  Not that he
knew what an F.A.Q. was, but he intended to find out P.D.Q.  He
knew with absolute certainty, however, that his work was
important.  He pushed the sheep out of the blimp door, and made
the scientific observations on his carefully taken notes.
     It died, too.  This made him positively giddy.  Batting a
thousand now.
     Wait.  Something amiss.  He had to stop the experiment
because... because... something.  OH!  Tournament, right.  He was
invited.  He wasn't at his pickup location, either.
     Pushing the remaining farm animals out of the blimp, since
he didn't want them to go to waste, M.A.D. hopped over to the
giant steering wheel and turned the zeppelin around, heading back
for home over the lilac mountains and wastelands of melting
clocks that come with any universe filled with unknowns.  Maybe
he could get some answers at the tournament.

                              *

     In a playroom of soft blues and soft music, a witch paced in
little circles on the softly carpeted floor.
     "An invitation," she said.  "That can't be.  We don't even
know anybody who would invite us anywhere."
     Her friend, who was busy lifting weights, replied quickly. 
"I don't mind.  It'll be fun!  Maybe we can meet some boys!"
     The witch sighed.  "Popura, could you think about something
other than boys for a change, please?"
     "I am, Remi-chan.  I'm thinking about training."
     "Or training!  If it's not training, it's boys.  If it's not
boys it's training.  If it's not either, it's sports.  If it's
not that it's being a 'Magical Girl'.  I hate that name."
     "But we're both Magical Girls!"
     "I'm a WITCH!  Not a magical girl!" Remi said, waving her
magical arms around.  "See the hat?  Okay, I don't have the
broom.  But this is the modern age, we don't need a broom!  If
this partnership is going to work out, we're going to have to
come to some agreements about terminology."
     "Hai, Remi-chan!" Popura beamed, ^_^'ing at her cutely.
     "Please quit that, for instance."
     "Quit what? ^_^"
     "The way you screw your eyes into your head to look cute!"
     "Gosh, I'm not doing that! ^_^"
     "AAAARGH!"
     Remi didn't know why she wasn't ditching this ditz. 
Granted, she had free room and board at Popura's manorhouse; her
parents were rich and could afford it.  And they were on some
sort of quest for some reason which she didn't know, and fighting
as a team for some important reason involved in that quest.  But
the unknowns aside, the girl was just plain unnerving.
     She picked up her violin, tool of the trade, and played a
note or two.  Not the note that would summon her Killer Attack
Cartoon Note, which she had been teaching to fight with her, but
normal musical notes.  It helped her relax.
     She could ignore the surreal landscape around her, or the
simple fact that she could summon music that can kill people. 
She could ignore the strange life she had been leading which she
didn't fully understand, except for the basic fighting and
recognizing others.  But she couldn't ignore her partner, who
although formidable in battle, was far too juvenile for her
tastes.  Granted they were the same age, and quite young, but
Remi had a bit more maturity in her.
     Maybe the tournament would be a good learning experience for
both of them.  Popura could learn to take things more seriously,
and she could learn to handle her partner better.  Hopefully.

                              *

     "And if you'll look on your left, you'll see the third
district of Paradise, where the squash courts and water polo
areas are," Urd said, gesturing towards her left with white
gloves.  She had opted for the 'Tourist Guide' look for the
duration of the fighter-fetching.  Her charges, two unusual
looking girls and one monstrous looking guy in a coat (that for
some reason was rolling along on little wheels in the sleeves
while he rested his legs in midair) followed along, bewildered at
the many sights of Heaven.
     "23% isn't much, but I think I can keep them stable up
here," Skuld nodded.  "It won't be a problem."
     "Good, good.  Hang in there, Skuld!  We're almost done!"
Belldandy said encouragingly.
     "I guess nothing can be as weird as those three, oneesama!"
Skuld laughed.
     Thunder rolled across the skies of heaven ominously.

                              *

[Chapter I, Act VII. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'SPF2T'.]

     The demon in human flesh stood poised on the mountaintop. 
Below, he could see his prey, the woodland animal that was to be
his dinner.  The blood surged in his ears, chanting low : Kill,
Kill, Kill, Kill... his eyes flared as red as his hair, as he
leapt from the peak upon high.
     Akuma sailed gracefully right into the dirt, head first. 
His pathetic little legs and arms waved around as he tried to pry
himself out of the ground, remembering not to jump from so high
up next time.
     Finally unwedging his skull from the topsoil, he snarled and
blew up a nearby tree with a fireball.  Something had gone
horribly wrong.  For months now, since entering that strange
tournament involving puzzles of gem patterns -- he was up to the
task mentally, being the ultimate warrior, power made flesh -- he
had been having problems with his body.
     Notably, it had shrunk on him when he wasn't looking.
     His arms were stubby, and his legs short.  His head was
HUGE; he screamed in terror at the cuteness of it when he
happened to look in a mirror once.  The worst part was that he
wasn't intimidating any more.  It's one thing to say 'Evil is
what I am, death is what I bring' but when you look like a UFO
Catcher Doll, any amount of threats usually get treated like baby
talk.
     Briefly he wondered if there were any support groups he
could join, such as Adult Survivors of Superdeforming, until he
dismissed the idea.  The mighty Akuma needed no support.  He was
still the raging demon of true Shotokan martial arts.
     And he was going to show the whole world that Akuma still
was a force to be reckoned with in this new tournament, even if
he'd have to punch them in the knees to do it.

                              *

     "OOOHHOHOHOOHOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOHHOOHOOOHOOHOOHOHOHOHOHHOOH
OOHOOHOHOHOHOHHOOHOHHOHOOOOOOHHOOHOHHOHHOOHOOOHOOOOHOOOHOOOOHOOHO
HOOOHOOHOOOHOOOHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" the hideous, wailing cry of
laughter echoed through the laboratory.
     Devilot de Deathsatan IXX, Half-Princess of Darkness, Key of
the Deathsatan Family Empire of Evil, voted six years running as
Most Kawaii Mad Scientist Or She'll Shoot Us For Not Saying So
was a happy camper.
     Not only had she successfully beaten all challengers at the
puzzle fighting tournament, but she had managed to get new data
for use in her experiments.  With the aid of her two faithful
minions, Jigoku (the one with the axe) and Dr. Stein (the big
green one), her masterpiece of science, art and above all,
destruction was now complete.
     She felt like another good laugh, and kept this one going
for a whole fifteen minutes before Skuld showed up.
     "Hello!  I'm here to take you to the WOW, is that really a
six chambered full acceleration proton canon?!" she asked,
pointing to a random hunk of machinery in the twisted nightmarish
Ed Woodian scenario that is Devilot's Lab.
     "Why yes, it is!" Devilot beamed.  "Do you know about it?"
     "I've always wanted to try using one for subreality
penetration portals and link-forming methods!" Skuld exclaimed.
     "Why, good heavens, it's not suitable for that!  The
particle output is too low."
     "What if you coupled a ZX-97 Particle Amplifier to the third
tunneling link?"
     "That might work! Yes, that definitely might work!!
OOOHOHOHOOO!"
     Skuld peered curiously at the robot on Devilot's work table. 
"Hey, is that an android?  Did you make it?  What's it do?  I'm
Skuld, by the way."
     "Devilot desu.  Pleased to meet you.  It works like this..."
     A new friendship was made.

                              *

     "I don't know if I like her hanging out with that Devilot
kid," Urd commented, as she watched her youngest sister wander
off with the fairy princess who laughed too much.
     "Why is that?"
     "Have you SEEN that brat's records?" Urd asked Belldandy. 
"She's a demon third class limited!  What is she DOING in this
tournament!?  And what was with that other guy we brought in? 
Sure, he's short and cute and not very impressive, but he's a
demon SECOND class limited.  Is He really going to give these
freaks a chance at His job?"
     "I'm... sure it's all part of His plan."
     "HEY!  Was that *doubt* in your voice?"
     "Heavens, no!  I just... had to catch my breath, is all,"
Belldandy replied, blushing slightly.

                              *

[Chapter I, Act VII. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'KoF96'.]

     The sun shone brightly over Osaka, one of the many fine
cities in Japan.  The birds sang in harmony, and students greeted
each other on their way around the school grounds.  Overall, it
was a nice day at SNK University, a day which Athena was enjoying
for the 6.4 minutes she had allocated for rest from training.
     Other than the now 6.3 minutes, her day was going to be very
busy.  She had already gone to Biology 101, which meets MWF
8:00am (with lab at 9:00am) and started her dissection
experiment.  That had gone fairly well, except for the small
outburst when she blasted Sie Kensou for bragging about their
nonexistent boyfriend/girlfriend dating situation to his friends. 
Honestly!  Sie was a good fighter and a good friend, but he had
some real delusions about their relationship.
     After that she had allocated some time for training her
martial arts with the rest of Team Psycho Soldier, and after that
some time for practicing her music with the rest of the Psycho
Soldier Band (although Chin was too drunk to keep the beat). 
Next, work on her stage costume / fighting uniform, then
homework, then meals, then homework, then her volunteer student
government work and community service.  Now she had planned a
good little pause, before she would head off to this new
tournament they had been invited to.
     Having a few psycho tendencies herself -- err, psychic, it
was hard separating the two sometimes -- she knew quite certainly
that the invitation had been from a goddess.  An actual celestial
deity!  She felt familiar with them, but hadn't remembered
encountering any.  Perhaps something was going on.  Either way,
Athena Asamiya, warrior of love and justice, would do her
bestest!
     Maybe she'd even get to try out her new, super-secret,
never-fails fighting technique...

                              *

     "She's nuts," Sie confirmed, munching on a riceball from his
infinite surplus he kept in his jacket.  "It's all that anime
she's been watching.  Magical girls and mecha!  That sort of
thing doesn't actually work; this is reality, after all."
     Chin nodded, without falling off his barstool.  This was an
accomplishment, considering he already had consumed three times
his body weight in sake.  "Weeeeell, better her t' learn that in
this little tourney, rather than in King of Fah, Fieee, Fuuu..."
     "Fighters."
     "Was getting to that.  King of Fighters '97.  Less
embarrassment, sort of thing."
     Sie sighed.  "I guess.  Hmm.  Sensei, I don't understand how
this is training... all we've been doing since practice ended is
going into bars and getting drunk."
     "YES!  That is the true nature of training!  Pass the
pretzels, boy," Chin requested.
     "Shouldn't we be getting back to the U for our ride?"
     "Awww, a few minutes won' hurt anything.  There'sh another
round to get through.  Besides, who'sh gonna know?"
     Urd clamped one hand on one shoulder of one fighter, each. 
"C'mon, you two."

                              *

     Skuld had to drip-feed the old man black coffee for ten
minutes before the Heavenly Gates would recognize him as anything
other than 'non-human lifeform'.  Even then, it took another five
minutes to point him in the right direction and get him THROUGH
the twenty-foot-wide-gap between the fenceposts of holy light.
     "Strange fellow," Urd mused.  "Always wanted to meet a
drunken-style fighter, though.  So, what's next, kid?" Urd asked.
     "I am NOT a kid," Skuld grumbled.  "Next is... ewwww.  A
sewer??  I'm not going!"
     "I fold also.  These fabrics do NOT deal well with fecal
bacteria."
     "If you're not going, and I'm not going... who is?"
     The two looked over at the third sister, who was obliviously
talking shop with Athena.
     "Her," they agreed.

                              *

[Chapter I, Act VII. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'TMNT'.]

     "COWABUNGA!!" Michelangelo screamed, as his sewer-surfboard
tore through the underground river of muck like a knife through a
river of muck.
     He had to admit, this new board Donatello whipped up was
pretty radical.  The way it took those corners was just
BODACIOUS!  The balance, the acceleration, every little thing
about it was cool.
     Except, he thought to himself upon slamming into the brick
wall ahead of him head on at an upwards of 78 miles per hour, the
brakes were kinda bogus.
     Fortunately, he had a thick shell (as well as a thick head)
and pried himself away from the stonework quickly with only a
sore brain and double vision and some minor cuts and bruises.
     "Radical," he commented to nobody in particular.
     It was all training, of course.  Mike liked to train and
play at the same time, and if that meant calling his play
training, then hey; s'cool.  There was a tournament to go to, his
first one since the 80's!  The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
weren't that popular nowadays, with those new, broodingly dark
vigilantes that folks seemed to like, but with this tournament,
they were BACK and they were BAD!

                              *

     A broodingly dark vigilante crept in the shadows of The
Park, awaiting some sort of injustice which he could beat into a
pulp of bloody bruises.  It's a living.
     This was not some soft, watered down Hollywood character;
this was the original Casey Jones, man not playing with a full
deck, who enjoys putting on hockey equipment and smacking people
around with blunt instruments.  Single person hard core big
stomping powerhouse of law and order who tolerates no filthy
lawbreakers.  It hadn't won him any action figure rights, but it
made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside to be aiding the fight to
make The City safe for the common man.  That was enough for any
3/4ths insane vigilante to keep them going.
     "AHA!  A LAWBREAKER!" he shouted, springing from the
shrubbery, hockey stick high.  The offending criminal scum
panicked, and fell over in surprise.
     "Wha?  Wha??" the fetid transgressing punk offered in
defense.
     "This is Casey Jones's town, and here, you won't get away
with that sort of INSULT to law and order... JAYWALKER," Casey
said threateningly.  "In the name of love and justice--"
     "Am I interrupting?" Urd asked.
     While the 'ol CJ was distracted, the sinful jaywalker ran
like hell.  Casey ignored him... for now.  Repeat offenders never
escaped him forever.
     "You the one who sent that letter?" Casey inquired.
     "That I am.  Time to go, big boy.  There'll be plenty of
crooks and baddies to stomp at the tournament, don't worry..."

                              *

     Splinter's meditation ran deep and pure, like the mountain
streams along Mt. Fuji's noble peaks and valleys.  Eyes closed,
tail still, he squatted on the pile of pillows, concentrating on
his own inner peace and harmony.  He could feel this new
technique he sought to master, feel its form and shape; it would
only be moments before he reached the plateau of consciousness
that would allow him to perfect it.  Patience.  Moments away. 
Patience.  Strike!
     "Boot to the Head," he said quietly, snapping up from a
sitting position and kicking the practice dummy squarely in the
face.  The dummy's head popped off like a PEZ dispenser and
landed in the wastebasket.
     "A truly dangerous technique," he mused to himself,
scratching along his rat-like muzzle.  "I shall endeavor not to
use it unless in a dire situation indeed."
     He tended to talk to himself a lot, but that was alright; it
was his right as a venerable and honorable martial arts sensei to
have the occasional dialogue with the spirits.  For instance,
while in a state of meditation a few days ago, he received a
message from on high; a tournament was forming, the nature of
which he felt in his soul would be of great importance to mankind
itself.  He would journey to this battle, and fight his best.
     Of course, one of the boys was going too.  Strange that it
would be Michelangelo, the least focused of the four, but so it
was ordained, so it shall be.  Splinter was a patient rat.

                              *

     "Wow, real mutants!"
     "Don't stare, Skuld-chan.  It's impolite," Belldandy
reminded her.
     "I've always wanted to make a mutant, but I could never get
permission to use the radiation lab from the Science Department
of Heaven," Skuld pouted.
     "I'm sure there's a good reason, Skuld-chan.  Perhaps when
you're older?"
     Skuld nodded.  Or, she thought, perhaps if Devilot-san would
let her use HER equipment... ooo.  Happy thought.
     "Skuld, where are the next three fighters, exactly?"
Belldandy asked, looking at the list.  "I can't make out the
writing."
     "Oh, sorry," Skuld said, snapping out of it.  "Umm... looks
like... ano?  'The Mushroom Kingdom?'"

                              *

[Chapter I, Act IX. Quantum Dimensional Pocket 'SMB'.]

     "Momma mia, that's-a spicy pizza!" Mario commented, hauling
the disc of Italian paradise out of the oven.  "You keep-a the
spaghetti sauce ready, Luigi?  This-a gonna be ready to eat inna
minute!"
     "Sauce is GO!" Luigi commented, hopping over the counter
with a little electronic 'boing, boing' sound.  "This's gonna be
the finest meal we ever cooked for the princess.  Finally, a
perfect sampling of the finest food on Earth!  Say, Mario?"
     "Ya?"
     "When we gonna be getting back home, anyway?"
     "Luigi!  I'm-a surprised at you!  We're heroes for these
mushroom people, we gotta responsibility to them!  Besides, their
princess keeps getting kidnapped, and who's gonna be going to
save her without us?" Mario asked.
     "AIEEEEE!" a voice from the dining room screamed.
     "See?  There she go again!  Come on, let's-a go rescue her
again!" Mario said, setting the pizza down and boingying his way
out into the Royal Dining Room of the Mushroom Palace.

                              *

     "I only came to get the Princess for the tournament,
sheesh," Urd grumbled.  "I didn't expect the Spanish
Inquisition."
     The seven diminutive, mushroom-shaped guards around her kept
their spears pointed at the goddess, in case she made any more
princess-kidnapping type movements.
     "We've had some problems in the past," Luigi noted. 
"Dinosaurs comin' to take her off to castles, and such.  But we
never heard of no tournament, miss."
     The Princess herself nodded.  "Gosh golly gee, I'd have
heard about something as nifty as that the minute the letter
arrived!  I am royalty, after all!"
     Urd shrugged.  "This place isn't exactly convenient to
shopping, you know.  We had to rely on a mailing service."
     "That wouldn't-a be UPS, would it?" Mario asked, scratching
his beard.
     "Yes, exactly."
     "Oh boy," Mario laughed.  "Guys, I think-a she's da real
thing.  Whaddya say we go and visit this tournament, mmm?"

                              *

     Urd fanned herself a few times with her copy of the List of
Chosen Holy Fighters.  "This is taxing work.  Are we almost
done?"
     "We're done!" Skuld cheered.  "That's everybody."
     "Done?" Belldandy asked.  "But it says here there's still--"
     "Oh, them?  Don't worry!  They have dimensional jump
capability, so I just gave them the address and told them to stop
on by.  Less work for us! ^_^"
     Urd blinked.  "The address?  For HEAVEN?"
     "Hai.  Is that a problem?" Skuld asked.
     And that's when the meteor struck.
     It wasn't a meteor exactly; those are comprised of large
firey bits of rock that shoot through the atmosphere and, if
large enough, destroy Sheboygan and give rise to bad made for TV
disaster movies.  But anybody who was looking at the time would
just see a great big firey thing fly out of subspace, and crash
directly into the Gates of Heaven, simultaneously flattening/
melting them and lowering property values throughout the block.
     When the smoke cleared, and Urd had patted out the fires in
her hair, the object was very clearly a big red spaceship.
     Its hatch opened.
     "HIEEE!  We're heWAAAAAAAAAH!!!" Mihoshi yelled, tripping on
the one-inch gap between the hatch and the landing ladder.  The
blonde (blonde being a state of mind, not a hair color) Galaxy
Police officer tumbled down the steps with all the gracefulness
of a crippled llama, and crashed face first into Skuld.
     Kiyone smacked her forehead.  "MIHOSHI!  We already talked
about making a good first impression, and now you wrecked it!"
     "Gomen ne, Kiyone-san," Mihoshi cried.
     Belldandy just waved politely in greetings.  "Konnichi wa! 
Fighters from offset TM, right?  Welcome to Heaven."
     "Actually, we're not fighters," Kiyone said.  "But Tenchi
and Ryouko were... occupied, and the Galaxy Police suggested we
go instead to represent... um... whatever it is that was getting
represented.  The orders were kind of vague."
     "Please get off me," Skuld suggested.
     "Wai? OH! Gomen!" Mihoshi apologized.
                                   *

[Chapter I, Act X. Heaven.]

     The fighters were roused from their quarters that afternoon,
for the grand tour.
     Most were fairly quiet as the open-air tour bus rolled
around the area designated for the fighting.  Nobody was quite
expecting what they actually got in this little adventure, and
decided it would be perfectly alright to let Urd keep talking
rather than admit anything embarrassing, like, 'What in heaven's
name is going on?'
     "If you'll look to your left," Urd gestured, "You will see
the main arena area.  Most of Heaven's population, staff and
residents alike, has been invited to enjoy the show, which takes
place in a raised platform surrounded by water.  We've had some
of our finest classical greek architects working on this project
day and night, let's give them a hand and try not to break those
pillars, they're more expensive than they look..."
     "Psst, Sie," Athena whispered.  "I think I've been here
before."
     Sie looked away from the window.  "Really?"
     "In a past life, or something.  It seems familiar..."
     "On my right, you'll notice the building where your quarters
are," Urd said, pointing to the large ivory and brass dome. 
"Remember, all areas except the ring itself are off limits to
fighting.  Doing so MAY result in instant disqualification and
ejection from the tournament.  However, we have a fine lounge for
you to rest in after hours, with good vending machines that carry
completely fat free nachos, chips, cookies, and cakes for free...
a perk of working in this field, you might say.  On my left..."
     "Daddy said I wasn't supposed to go here," Devilot told
Akuma.  "Something about them being our arch-rivals.  But I don't
like staying in the Underworld, it's boring."
     "Hmmh," SD-Akuma grunted cutely.
     "Besides, I need a good place to unveil my secret project,"
Devilot grinned, ear to ear.
     "...you will see the broadcast station, where we will be
televising the proceedings.  I and my two sisters, who are His
primary organizers, will be arranging--"
     "Excuse me!" Dan shouted, taunting Urd to get her attention.
     "Yes, Mr. Hibiki?"
     "If it is not outside my place to enquire, who is 'He'?"
     "He would be God, the Lord, the creator of all things and
the cause of all things, the Supreme Being.  This is Heaven, and
He is sponsoring this tournament."
     "YAHOOIE!"
     "Yes. Anyway, we--" 
     "Hold up.  Did you say 'God'?" Sakura asked.  "As in, THE
God?  What kind of a tournament is this, exactly?"
     "It's very simple," Urd explained.  "As randomly selected
Holy Warriors, you thirty-two people will take part in a battle
of skill, strength and wits.  The winner of the tournament will
be... well, replacing God as the ultimate power in the universe. 
He's retiring."
     Silence flooded the tour bus.
     "Radical," Michelangelo said quietly.

                              *

     And lo, as he looked on high from his divine throne, the
Lord watched as his chosen ones progressed through the holy
battlegrounds he had ordained, and spoke onto Skuld :
     "You know, everything looks really little from up here."
     Skuld nodded.  "By rights of office, you are supposed to be
higher than all others."
     "Yeah, but I mean, REALLY little.  I should probably get a
telescope or something," God considered.  "Could you make me one
when you get a free moment?"
     "Um... sir," Skuld asked.  "Optics aside, I was wondering...
uh... well..."
     "Go ahead, Skuld.  We're all holy up here."
     "Belldandy-oneesama says it's all part of the ineffable
plan, that You know what You are doing with this and everything's
going to turn out okay and I shouldn't worry at all," Skuld
babbled.  "That's right, right?"
     "Plan?" God blinked.  "What plan?"
     Pause.
     "You don't have a plan?"
     "Heck no.  I'm just as curious as to what's going to happen
as you are," God laughed.  "This is gonna be pretty damn
amusing."
     Skuld facefaulted.

                              *

     And so it was that the thirty two chosen fighters gathered
in the kingdom of heaven, of which only one would walk away with
the mantle of God.  The ultimate prize.
     But a number of questions go unanswered.  What foul deeds
are the demons who somehow got into the roster planning?  What
will some of the obviously non-combat oriented people do?  What's
that adorable little evil tyke Devilot planning?  Why is it there
only seem to be two fighters from dimensions PF and TM?  Will Dan
ever not suck?  Has God finally lost his marbles and is mankind
doomed?
     Stay tuned for Magical Troubleshooting Crossover Fighting
Tournament BETA : Round One, at a fanfic resource near you.  And
get ready to participate; in this tournament, *YOU* cast the
ballots and decide who will win...

===============================================================
Dedicated to those fighters who never have a chance against the
popular heavyweights... The Magical Troubleshooting Crossover
Fighting Tournament Beta players are...

STREET FIGHTER           DARKSTALKERS           TOSHINDEN
 Dan                      B.B. Hood              Vermillion
 Sakura                   Anita                  David
 Birdie                   Lord Raptor            Naru Amoh

RANMA 1/2                SAMURAI SHOWDOWN       GROOVE ON FIGHT
 Ukyou                    Nicotine               M.A.D.
 Kunou                    Mizuki                 Remi
 Kasumi                   Kuroko                 Popura

PUZZLE FIGHTER           KING OF FIGHTERS       T.M.N.T.
 Akuma                    Sie Kensou             Michelangelo
 Devilot                  Athena Asamiya         Splinter
                          Chin Genzai            Casey Jones

SUPER MARIO BROS.        TENCHI MIYOU           AA! MEGAMI-SAMA
 Mario                    Kiyone                 Belldandy
 Luigi                    Mihoshi                Urd
 Princess Toadstool                              Skuld

Let the tournament begin!!
===============================================================

Round One with the official voting form will be made available
after this posting.  Remember, this fic can only continue with
your participation, so if you liked it, keep your eye out for the
rest of the series and send in those votes!

AUTHOR'S NOTES :

     I REALLY need to thank folks for this concept.  First and
foremost I thank the Dream Tournament IV organizers and writers,
who have done the defininininininitive voting/fighting tournament
fanfiction... 127 fighters or so.  No way in hell could I do all
that.  I admire and respect these guys.
     Second I'd like to thank my cohorts who supplied me with
video game information for my work here (notably the hard to find
Groove On Fight info... this game DESERVES to be in a Spoof Chase
production, it's that wacky).  Thanks go to David Tai, Orlando de
la Cruz, and Yon Holt; for suggestions, prodding, goodies and
screams of pain when I suggested throwing in the Turtles and
those loveable italian plumbers.
     Third, thanks go to my small group of dedicated prereaders
who checked this for any inconsistencies and such : Lee Thompson,
David Tsai, Mike Mazzoleni, Yon Holt, and Tim Miller.
     I'm looking forward to writing this.  It's an interesting
twist on group writing.  Good luck and see you in the next
release!

-Stefan Gagne
-Aug. 12th, 1997
-twoflowr@glue.umd.edu