Subject: [Spamfic]Generic Revenge (and Apology)
From: "Eric Adams" <eda104@erols.com>
Date: 10/23/1997, 2:51 AM
To: "The Mother of All Fanfic Mailing Lists" <fanfic@fanfic.com>
Reply-to:
"Eric Adams" , eric.adams@decisionone.com

Let me apologize for the quality of the last post.  I neglected
to check that the cut and paste worked properly.  Here is the
story properly sobered up.


It was a dark and stormy night.


During any good meeting of people plotting another's downfall,
God has decreed that it be a dark and stormy night.  So with
God's
blessing seven very annoyed looking people gathered their yen
together and handed it to a very calm looking slip of a girl.


The lightening flashed at the appropriate time and the effect
was really very dramatic.  Of course Spielberg could've done
better.
Not that it mattered.  A lightening flash must accompany any
important transaction that may lead to some hurting.  It's in
Revelations people, look it up!


So it came to pass that seven very unhappy characters decided
to do something rotten to the people who had tormented them for
so
long.


The slight wisp of a girl took the money and limped stoically
away, once again accompanied by a dramatic lightening flash and
rolling thunder.

THE WRITERS HOME

 It was obvious the writer was anxious.


He checked the watch again noting the time.  He had just sent
yet another evil fanfic to the FFML and anxiously awaited his
just
desserts.  He was hoping for a visit from Ukyou or maybe Nabiki.
Though Shampoo or Akane would do also.


He grinned apprehensively and once again looked anxiously at
his watch.  He had made plans for such an occasion and relished a
visit by any of the Ranma characters.  Four awful fanfics and
still
nothing from the anime characters.


Suddenly, he heard a slight rustle behind him.  At last, he
thought, they have finally come!  As dramatically as he could
manage, "I have been waiting for you."  His voice quavered with
anticipation.


A dry, female voice answered behind him, "Have you now?"
 Funny, he thought, that doesn’t sound like any Ranma character
He'd ever heard.  Confused he turned his head and looked at a
smirking girl with short brown hair and long bangs that hung just
over her glasses obscuring her view.  "Nabiki?" he asked
hopefully.


"Not quite, though she did say to say hi." The girl replied
brightly, flashing her white teeth at the stunned writer.


"But, but." The stunned writer took at a closer look at the
girl who just stood there smiling at him.  "You're not any of the
Ranma characters!  I can tell?"


"Do tell."


"You have almost no chest!"


"What?!  Do you think that gets on my good side, Loverboy?"
The girl flared a bright green, the fiery green aura surrounding
her.


"Yow, how did you do that?"


"It doesn't matter," the girl approached the writer slowly, a
pronounced limp evident in her stride. "What does matter is that
I
have been hired by one cast of Ranma 1/2 to extract revenge on
you
for what you did to them in your past fanfics."


"Do I get some sort of poetic justice?"  The writer asked,
hope lighting his eyes.


"No?"


"Some sort of weird sexual torture?"  A line of drool ran from
the corner of his mouth.


"Noooo," Sarah rolled her eyes.


"A splash of Jusenkyo water and an odd curse?"


"Not quite."


Running out of options the writer played his last straw, "Sex
with you?"


"NO!  God, what all did you have perverts have in mind?" Sarah
flared with green energy again.


"No?" The writer looks downfallen and sits dejected at his
desk.  "Well what do I get?"


Flaring brighter yet Sarah smiles wickedly, "You get to
experience a whole new world of pain."  Laughing maniacally,
Sarah
unleashes a powerblast at the shocked writer.

____

 Outside the windows of the writer's home glow a bright green.
Curious neighbors note the screams and the brightly glowing
lights
and wonder what new disaster their neighbor has worked himself
into.
This is a common enough occurrence and they have grown accustomed
to
it.


Passing strangers hurried along, thinking that they had now
proven the existence of genuinely haunted homes.  Wrapping their
clothes around themselves, they scurry away.

___

 Inside, the screams die down and the writer at last has a
chance to recover his breath.  "Wow!" He manages to croak out
between heaving gasps.  Most of his clothes have been burnt off
and
his home is a wreck.


"Wow?!"  Sarah looks incredulously at him.  "Wow? What are you
people?  Sadists all of you?"  She flares a bright green and
unleashes another searing blast of energy at the writer.


Barely able to keep from grinning with delight, the writer
once again starts screaming in pain.


--
What power would Hell have if those here
imprisoned were not able to dream of Heaven?
--Morpheus
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