The story so far (from "A Pair of Jokers"):

Windir: <Ahem> In the beginning, the Universe was created. Endless swirls 
of cosmic dust coalesced into --

Frito: Boot ta the head!

Windir: OUCH!

Lyra: Didn't you already try an opening like that, Windir?

Frito: Didn't work any better then, neither.

[Editor's note: Sheesh. Since *you* can't seem to make up your minds... 
<Ahem>

Windir, Frito, and Lyra, taking a break between fanfic reviews, stumble 
upon the dead body of Ranma Saotome... the third example to show up that 
week. After talking to their friend Kaede the ex-ninja, they realize that 
this is far higher than it should be -- worse, they weren't intended by 
the authors. Another dead Ranma turns up, his throat cut in a way 
strongly reminiscent of the Bloody Card; a deduction confirmed by an 
attack shortly after, on another encounter with Kaede in front of a bank. 
The evidence hints at the Dirty Pair's responsibility -- a possibility 
Lyra and Frito don't want to accept, until some fairly conclusive photos 
from the bank surveillance cameras turn up. With a note of sad 
determination, they accompany the police lieutenant as he arrests the 
Pair.

Now Read On...]


The mysterious figure stood on the roof, laughing evilly as he looked 
down at the bank and listened to the bug planted in the vending cart. As 
the conversation reached a critical point, he dug inside his jacket... 
and, with the flick of a wrist, sent the Bloody Card screaming down on 
the foursome, skimming it 'round in patterns that just missed the 
panicking crew. He indulged himself in a final, cruel chuckle as the 
ninja eventually brought down the card; a hand signal sent an 
impersonator running away down the alley, long black hair streaming over 
her 3WA uniform...


Demented Jayhawk Productions presents the Fanfic Investigation Team in:

Ranma Pride: The Stacked Deck


As the laughter faded off into the distance, the table surface swam back 
into focus in front of her... the photos on the table as well. *Those* 
photos. Damn them.

With a start, Lyra sat up straight, blinking as the adrenaline rushed 
through her arteries. "I've got to stop daydreaming like this!" she 
muttered vehemently to herself.

Well, not *quite* to herself. Elvish ears can be quite sharp, as Windir 
had good reason to know. "And what, perchance, did this daydream hold to 
make you so averse?" he asked, as he entered the room.

"It's those damn pictures!" she snapped. "If they'd caught just a glimpse 
of her face, maybe I could shut up that little voice that keeps saying we 
made a mistake." She swallowed. "But they didn't, so there's just that 
little bit of doubt..." Her voice trailed off quietly.

"Indeed," Windir said softly. 

"Uh-huh," she replied sarcastically. "And I suppose you're going to say 
it doesn't bother you a bit?"

"If I were to do so... would you believe me?"

She smiled slightly, and cocked an eyebrow. "Nope."

"Correct." A slight smile appeared on his face as well, for a moment, 
before vanishing. "However, would this, in fact, have a substantive 
impact on the situation?"

"Still a week 'till da trial," Frito said, crawling out from underneath 
the couch. "Plenty a' time!"

Windir and Lyra stared at him.

"Look, dat thing stinks on ice," Frito said. "'Course da murderer just 
happened ta use da Bloody Card, and a'course she attacked us right in 
front of the bank, where she'd get caught by da cameras. Just right, 
everythin' pointin' to da guy right off da bat. An' I got some nice 
beachfront property down in Kansas. Uh-huh."

"Actually, Frito, in point of fact there are a number of beaches in 
Kansas. I am mindful of a certain sailing lagoon on Clinton Lake..."

Frito waved a hand airily. "Details, details. Ya know what I meant."

Lyra's smile crept just a little wider. "I suppose. And since you're our 
resident crim-- erm, expert on crime..." She frowned. "So why weren't you 
saying this back when we met with the lieutenant?"

"Hey, I was in shock, OK?" Frito pulled himself up to a seat on the edge 
of the table. "It ain't like I see two a' my favorite bombshells accused 
a' killin' people every day, neither. Got it?"

Windir pulled up a chair and sat down. "Very well. Assuming one begins 
with the presumption that this is, as they say, a..." His mouth grimaced 
for a moment, as if tasting something vile, "'put-up job,' where would we 
commence our investigations?"

     *     *     *     *     *     *

"You know, the way you keep hanging around here, I may have to start 
charging rent," Kaede said with a smile.

Frito looked at her suspiciously. "Was dat supposed ta be a joke?"

"You do seem a bit... well, cheerful, today," Lyra added. "Things going 
well?"

"*Really* well," she replied, her expression growing radiant. "This 
tipster business is doing better than I'd hoped! I've had six finder's 
fees today, and I've hardly even started."

Frito got a mercenary gleam in his eye. Before he could say anything, 
though, Kaede noticed, and added fiercely: "And before you say 
anything... if you even *hint* about paying me a finder's fee, I won't 
tell you a thing about what I picked up for you today!"

With a pout, Frito said, "Awwwww, Kaede..."

"My condition. Take it or leave it."

"Alright, alright. Sheesh." Kaede didn't -- quite -- smile triumphantly.

"Just what did you find for us, anyway?" Lyra asked curiously.

"Um..." Kaede blushed. "Nothing, really. I just had to say something, 
though! Letting you pay me a bodyguarding fee was bad enough, but this?"

Lyra just sighed and rolled her eyes; Frito grabbed Kaede's arm and gave 
her a mock punch in the ribs.

Windir sighed as well. "I do not suppose, then, that there is the 
slightest chance that you might have found something that could be of 
assistance?"

"Not so far, no," she replied, looking downcast. "If I do, though, I'll 
send it your way right away. I owe you, more than I can ever forget."

"Kaede, sheesh!" Frito leaned forward, something kindling in his eyes. 
"How many times do we hafta tell ya, you don't owe us nothin'! We 
wouldn'a done it if we hadn't wanted ta, and you know that --"

"Knock it off, Frito," Lyra said with a sigh. "You know she'll never 
accept it, and you're just embarrassing her. I mean, how many times do 
you let someone else pay for dinner?"

"Every chance I get!" he replied, with a greedy smile.

"All right, bad example," Lyra said, smiling. "But you wouldn't believe 
how many times I fought Mom trying to get her to let me pay... sometimes 
you just have to be gracious and give in." Her smile grew wicked. 
"'Course, it took us a bit of excitement to settle that. Two whole blocks 
of buildings worth, in fact. I think it was the repair bill that finally 
convinced her." 

"You are joking," Windir stated flatly.

Off in the distance, they heard a girl's voice squeal, "Eimi-chan! You 
came to play again!" A few seconds later, they heard the whoosh of a 
missile launch, followed by an explosion. A mushroom cloud of smoke rose, 
about two blocks off.

"Oh?" Lyra said, with a Mona Lisa-ish smile, gesturing lightly at the 
area around them.

"Ahhhh....heh." Windir mopped his brow. "Perhaps not."

"Um..." Kaede swallowed nervously, looked at the cloud of smoke, and 
looked up at the bank clock. "Oh, my Ghu, look at the time, I was 
supposed to be back at the shop by now, well... see you later, OK?" She 
turned the cart around and went back up the street at a trot.

Lyra chuckled, and Frito poked her in the back as they walked on.

"Very well," Windir said, breaking the silence. "If, in fact, as we have 
seen, Kaede does not have any information that might be pertinent to the 
situation, we must continue our search elsewhere. Might anyone else be 
able to suggest a direction to continue our fact-finding expedition?"

Lyra tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, we could always go talk to some 
of Team Ranma and see if they've heard anything."

"Well, DUH!" Frito turned around and planted his fists on his hips. "Like 
we shouldna thought a' dat before! It's Ranma who's been gettin' 
murdered, so a'course we gotta wait ta talk to his friends until *after* 
dey arrest da Pair for killin' 'im! Wow, what a great idea!"

"You may save the sarcasm, Frito," Windir said acidly. "Surely, if a 
great scientific mind like *yours* can determine the need, then ergo, the 
need must exist. A truly brilliant piece of deductive work."

"Knock it off, both of you!" Lyra said. "OK, so we were stupid not 
thinking of it before. That's life, and we're all stupid from time to 
time. Let's just say we were stupid and go talk to them. Ne?"

A bright tie clasp bobbed as Windir coughed nervously. "Perhaps. Though 
one must remember that there *are* reasons why we couldn't just walk in 
and talk to them, yes?" At Lyra's inquiring look, he continued. "They are 
celebrities, one must remember. It is not as if one can simply walk in 
and talk to them, is it? And there are... other factors. I have no 
particular desire to be the bearer of unwelcome questions, as it were."

Lyra smiled and waved her finger dismissively. "Not to worry, not to 
worry. Guess who's producing a Ranma 'fic today at Studio Spry?"

     *     *     *     *     *     *

The first murmurs were audible about a block and a half away from the 
studio. As the trio walked closer, chorused shouts began rising out of 
the clamor; at about half a block, they became clear enough to 
understand. Chants of "U-KO-YO!" alternated with "O-O-C!" as the studio 
hove into view; by the time they could read the writing on the signs some 
of the protesters carried, individual calls could be made out. "She ain't 
no maniac!" shouted one man carrying a "Learn the Manga!" sign. "Ranma 
wouldn't do that to her!" shouted another, waving a picture of Akane 
circled with a red line through it. Others just waved posters for the 
Church of the One Righteous Spatula. The shouters stayed on one side of 
the sidewalk leading to the studio door; on the other side, a second 
group of protesters stood in silent, stony dignity, carrying signs 
reading things like "You can't pick and choose Canon," and "Fanfic 
Authors for Characterization Rights". 

Frito looked nervously from side to side as the trio walked between the 
rows of protesters, and Lyra hunched her shoulders guiltily; Windir, 
however, strode proudly to the entrance, head held high. Surprisingly, no 
one threw tomatoes or eggs, though the volume of shouting did rise 
slightly. Off to one side, a short, cute young woman with 
shoulder-length, wavy brown hair and round glasses stood taking notes; a 
press card was clipped to the collar of her sailor fuku.

After the glass doors swung shut behind them, Lyra straightened up and 
breathed a slight sigh of relief; Frito gave her a cocky 
I-was-only-kiddin'- I-wasn't-scared-of-nothin' grin that didn't fool 
anyone, not even the receptionist. Windir walked to the front desk and 
asked the receptionist to page her boss.

     *     *     *     *     *     *

"So... um, what brings you here?" Richard looked at the trio with a 
slightly nervous smile. He looked at the script in his hand, then rolled 
it up and began tapping it fretfully against his chin.

"Sheesh, we *told* ya already!" Frito said, poking him in the back. "We 
just need ta see if any a' da Ranma folk might know somethin' about who's 
been killin' him."

"Of course, hoping to catch some of them in 'Nihao My Concubine' outfits 
had nothing to do with it, right?" Lyra said with a smile.

"Boot ta th -- HEY!" Frito slammed down on his back, as Lyra ducked under 
the kick and added a push of her own to his momentum.

"Hmmm. How is the new Ranma doing?" Windir asked, as Frito tore off in 
pursuit of a grinning Lyra. 

Richard rubbed his chin. "Well, we've just about got him up to speed, 
now. I swear, one of these days someone should just put together a 
'Ranma: This is Your Life' orientation tape; I could practically do the 
narration by heart."

"One hopes that it will not be necessary... now, at least."

"It'll always be necessary, I think," Richard replied, shaking his head. 
"There are just too many things you can do with a fanfic by killing off 
Ranma. Even if your current batch of psychopaths are under lock and key."

"Assuming that the actual 'batch of psychopaths' *are* under lock and 
key," Windir murmured bleakly. 

Lyra came trotting up at that point, barely winded; Frito was dragging 
himself along the floor about ten feet back, gasping and wheezing. A 
passing janitor looked at the floor in horror, and sprinted for a mop.

"So... who all's here?" she asked, as they came out of the hallway from 
the lobby. "The soundstage seems pretty quiet... and while I've never met 
them, I've heard they can be a loud bunch at times."

"Kasumi's the only one here so far," Richard replied. "She likes to take 
care of a few things before production starts." He looked uneasily at the 
front windows. "And she's one of the few that can get through that crowd 
without any fuss."

"It is good to see that people still maintain respect for her 
personality," Windir said, nodding.

"Um..." Richard rolled his eyes. "You could say that."

Their steps echoed across the cavernous room as they emerged from the 
stacks of equipment, props, and just plain junk scattered around the 
edges of the soundstage. Over in one corner, a young woman with long, 
light-brown hair, wearing an apron, looked up; her eyes flashed angrily 
for a moment, then she got up and strode across the room to meet them, 
her face set. "Well, glad you could make it!" she commented, an edge to 
her voice. "Now what the *hell* is going on with this script?" She waved 
the script in his face for emphasis.

Richard swallowed nervously; the trio seemed rooted in place, with 
stunned expressions on their faces. Finally, Windir managed a nervous 
stammer: "K-K-Kasumi?"

"Yeah, that's me," she said, seeming to notice them for the first time. 
"Who the hell are you?" she added, spearing them with a piercingly 
intelligent and less than tolerant look.

"Er... ah... Windir, Frito, and Lyra. The Fanfic Investigation Team, at 
your service." Windir wiped his brow. "Yes... yes, we are. Absolutely. 
Beyond the slightest possible doubt. Ah-heh. Yes." 

"Fanfics reviewed while you wait," Lyra continued, a rather shaky smile 
on her face. "Sometimes for a long time. Um."

"Windir, Frito, and Lyra. Windir... huh. I've heard that name somewhere 
before, I think..." A slightly indignant look flitted across Windir's 
face. "Wait a minute. I remember you!" Richard paled as she growled 
slightly. "You were the ones who did that hack job on the Bond fic a 
while back, where I played Moneypenny." She glared at him. "If I remember 
correctly, you were the one who said I wasn't good enough for the role."

"No, no, nothing like that," Windir said quickly, making hasty 
warding-off gestures. "I, um, merely pointed out that Moneypenny was 
known for her gentle flirting and teasing, and that hardly fit with your, 
uh, innocent nature --"

"So I'm not a good enough actor to tease and flirt, is that it?" she 
demanded, sounding *very* annoyed now. Richard began backing away, 
muttering something about the stage setup. "It's the same story every 
time, typecast as little Miss Pollyanna, too pure and virginal to do 
anything with *real* emotions. Right?" With a glower, she planted her 
fists on her hips, and faced him challengingly. "Well?"

Lyra smiled slightly as Windir began sweating in earnest. "Of course not, 
er, well," he said, "it is certainly important that every actor should 
have the chance to extend his or her range, truly, and I certainly did 
not mean to deny you that, yes. I was merely trying to point out that it 
was not consistent with your character as previously established, and do 
remember we were just entering the anime fanfic review enterprise at the 
time..." 

A small chuckle escaped Lyra's lips, and at the sound Kasumi turned to 
face her. "I don't remember you being there for that review," Kasumi 
said, her glower vanishing into a thoughtful frown. "So why'd you decide 
to hook up with these losers?"

"Well, it's a job," Lyra said, with a counterfeit sigh and a slight 
smile. Kasumi chuckled a little at that. "Seriously, though, I was 
getting really tired of the 'elite tactical specialist' business, 
especially telling people all the time that I am *not* Friday Baldwin." 
She frowned slightly, clenching her fist. "Particularly when the point 
needed emphasis." A self-conscious smile attempted to lighten the mood. 
"And after I told my last boss what he could do with his mission 
objective, well... do you know how hard it is to get a job in this town, 
if you don't want to play the game?"

Kasumi sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Intimately." She met Lyra's glance, 
and both of them laughed briefly. "But why this? Why *them*?" 

"I wanted something about as far away from my old job as I could get. And 
something relaxing, though it never seems to work out that way." She 
laughed. "And really, these guys aren't bad, especially once you get to 
know them, and they do care. Even this guy," she patted Frito on the 
head, "has a pretty wide streak of honor when you manage to dig it out."

"HEY!" Frito protested.

Without turning to look at him, Lyra clonked him in the head with her 
elbow, then swept his feet out from under him. "Besides which... it's fun 
to burst their bubbles once in a while."

"*That* I can believe," Kasumi replied, laughing freely for the first 
time.

"Likewise, couldn't you say the same things about some of your bunch?" 
Lyra added, shooting a meaningful look at a row of red silk shirts 
hanging on a nearby rack.

Kasumi stood lost in thought for a moment. "Not him, either," she said 
quietly. "At least not at first -- he's arrogant, thoughtless, and 
couldn't pick up a clue if it was delivered by bokken... but he's loyal, 
honorable... and he also cares, deep down." She shook her head. "Later, 
after a new one has a chance to settle in and pick up on the celebrity 
lifestyle, well... let's just say we enjoy the good times while we can."

"Ya think dat's why someone's been killin' him?" Frito asked softly.

She shrugged, the edge coming back into her voice. "Why not? Or it could 
be someone he really pissed off who doesn't know the system here." She 
sighed. "Look, there are half-a-dozen reasons every day for someone to 
knock him off, apart from the 'fics. It could be any one of those. Heck, 
it could be half-a-dozen different people doing it, each one picking up 
on the last one."

"So... did you, in fact, perchance see anything that might indicate which 
of the possibilities it might be, or at least something that might assist 
in condensing the field?"

"Nope. Not a thing." She looked up at the clock. "Now if you'll excuse 
me," she continued sarcastically, "I'm on in five..." She reached into 
her apron pocket, pulled out a couple of pills, and popped them down 
without a drink. She shuddered, and her eyes glazed for a moment, before 
refocusing dreamily. "Oh, my!" She wandered off towards the set.

A sigh came from behind them. "One of these days, I'm afraid she's not 
coming back, you know."

The trio turned around to see Richard behind them. "What d'ya mean, she 
ain't comin' back?" Frito demanded. "It ain't like she can get by without 
workin', so a' course she's gonna be back."

"No, no, no," Richard said, sighing again. "I mean from *that*." They 
followed his gaze, to see Kasumi finish cleaning a table on the set. She 
looked around vaguely for a moment, before going over to a recorder and 
beginning to dust it, smiling vacantly. "It seems like she's staying up 
longer and longer on those things. I found her in a corner one day after 
she'd come down, just shuddering. She looked up at me with a desperate 
expression, but all she'd say was 'It's... seductive.'" 

Lyra shivered.

     *     *     *     *     *     *

The back door of the studio opened slowly, as Lyra stuck her head out for 
a tentative look 'round. She nodded to herself, and stepped out, Windir 
and Frito following cautiously. The sounds of a commotion in front of the 
building could be heard, seeping around the edges as a dull roar. A sharp 
whistling noise prompted them to look up, and they jumped aside hastily 
as one of the protesters flew over the roof and landed in front of them. 
His sign was too crumpled to read, and he had a scrap of red silk 
clutched between his fingers. Shaking their heads, they moved carefully 
down the alley towards the street.

As they came to the entrance to the alley, they saw a gentleman crouched 
behind a garbage can, eyes bent on the Oread Productions building across 
the street. He stood up as the sound of Windir's footsteps reached him, 
brushing back his receding, light-brown hair and straightening his dark 
blue jacket. "Ah, good morning," he said, his frown of concentration 
changing to a sardonic smile.

"It's afternoon," Lyra replied, a slight line appearing between her 
eyebrows.

"Is it?" He gave her an innocent look. "My, how time does fly."

"What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," he said airily. "Investigating, 
really, if you must know."

"Investigatin' what?" Frito demanded, coming up to stand beside Lyra.

The man looked amused. "Come now," he replied in a droll tone. "That 
would be telling."

Lyra frowned at him. "What's your name?"

"Questions, questions, always questions," he said, shaking his head in 
mock resignation. "You'd think people would get tired of them by now. 
Call me Roku, if you like. I just dropped by from BritWorld, to do a 
little job for an old friend."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Frito said, leaning forward. "If you're comin' from 
BritWorld, and talkin' with a British accent, how come you got a Japanese 
name?"

"An intelligent question at last! Why, I do believe I shall have to 
re-evaluate what I've heard about you. This really doesn't fit at all."

"So exactly what *have* you heard about us?" Lyra demanded, her voice 
cold and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"One picks up a bit, here and there," Roku said, tossing off the words 
carelessly, like beans at Setsubun. "Drop a word in the right ear, listen 
at windows, that sort of thing. Just what you ought to be good at." He 
cocked his head, looking at her. "I really am disappointed in you, you 
know. These others I would hardly expect miracles from, but this should 
be right up your alley." He looked at their surroundings. "Pun 
*intended*," he added with emphasis.

"Oh, yeah?" Frito sneered at him. "Well, Mister Fancy-Pants Brit, maybe 
ya should be tellin' us stupid schmoes what we're missin', then, seein' 
as we ain't smart enough ta figure it out ourselves."

"But that would be such a waste," Roku replied in halfway-convincing 
tones of mild horror. "Surely you know that the answer is cheapened if 
you don't find it yourself."

Another protester soared over the roof, falling into the middle of the 
group; her sign was mutilated and had a yellow-black bandanna tangled 
around it, but one could still make out the words "...belong together!" 
Lyra and Frito jumped back as she hit the ground with a thud; but the 
other two remained steady, Windir meeting Roku's eyes sternly.

"As may be," he said, speaking for the first time... as if making up his 
mind. "Even for a fellow traveller from the blessed isles which we both 
hold dear, I find you hold to an unfortunate degree of obtuseness, even 
woolly thinking. While one can indeed say that it is better to obtain 
knowledge for oneself, surely one can also see that even knowledge 
obtained by gift is superior to no knowledge at all?" He folded his arms, 
and nodded decisively. "I am ashamed to admit that a countryman of mine 
can be so unperceptive." 

Roku's eyes had been growing steadily more incredulous as Windir spoke; 
at the last comment, his composure finally shattered into a massive 
facefault. 

"I believe we have wasted enough time, listening to your attempts at 
instilling an inferiority complex," Windir continued. "Come, my 
compatriots. I believe it is time for us to take our leave." He placed a 
hand each on Lyra and Frito's shoulders, and steered them out of the 
alleyway and into the street. They shot incredulous looks at him, but 
were too croggled to resist his gentle pushing.

"Um... what about that information he said he had?" Lyra said, as they 
went out into the street.

"Trust me," Windir replied, with the serenity that only a trained martial 
artist -- or a supreme egoist certain of his position -- can manage. 
"From the caliber of our erstwhile questioner, I can be certain that such 
information as he possessed would be either utterly useless, or else 
freely available to a child of ten years. Not worth the bother, at all."

"Brits," Frito said disgustedly. "Always Brits. Namin' their city like it 
was da world, ya'd think they'd have somethin'..." His voice trailed off 
as they left the industrial district.

End part 1.


Author's notes: 
---------------

Yes, this a *lot* later than I'd hoped to get it out. I'm a fairly slow 
writer, and it's been a *busy* year. Only a couple of people have bugged 
me to get it out; I'm not sure if that's good or bad. ^_^

(Um, Zen -- you can put the fusion pistol down, now. Really.)


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/>)

...Hello. I'm afraid I'm not sapient right now, but if you'll leave a 
message I'll get back to you when I reach a higher evolutionary plane. 
Thank you.