Opening Shot:  The earth slowly revolves, revealing a shining sun.  On the
earth, we can see a city which looks vaguely like a pentacle.

Narrator:  Behold!  Da mahvellous woild of da fucha!  Thanks to da 
creation of Cristal Tokyo, which brought about da Thoid Age of Mankoind,
yumanity has entered an era of prospairity.  But behoind da shadow of such
glory-us peace, dere are --

SHEILA:  Fran, go home.

The image freezes.  The caption, Experts of Fanfic Review:  The Text File
appears.

Cut to the usual theatre, with SHEILA, RITSUKO, HIROE, and RYOUKO all in
attendance.  RITSUKO and SHEILA are quietly chatting, while RYOUKO examimes
a new issue blaster.

RITSUKO:  So Misa is *still* on maneuvers?

SHEILA:  <depressed> Yeah.  I'm seriously tempted to exercise Palladin's
authority and brevet myself to her rank so that I can go out to Alaska and
be with her.

RYOUKO:  <not looking their direction> Don't be an idiot, Tenkai.  Ms.
Fogler is doing important work, and doesn't have time for distractions ...
particularly not immoral ones like --

SHEILA:  Bite me, Ryouko.  <beat>  Oh, hi.  Welcome to yet another edition
of the Experts of Fanfic Review, in which we will be taking a look at one of
the long-awaited eighteenth chapter of Hearts of Ice.

HIROE:  Yaaaayyyy!  I really really like this story!  It's so ROMANTIC!

SHEILA:  But it's so suspenseful that it's hard to read it sometimes.  You
don't *know* that they're going to get out of this okay.

RITSUKO:  Well, in that case, let's commence at once.  Ahem.  Initiate
Projection.

     Her husband, Shin, his face twisted with grief, tears
streaking his cheeks as he tried ineffectually to comfort his two
young daughters.  He held the girls, gently stroking their hair
as they clung to him, weeping loudly, begging to know where
Mother was, why she had left them, why she didn't love them any
more...

     That single image had haunted her mirror for months.

RYOUKO:  Cry me a river.

SHEILA:  Funny, I thought you'd have sympathy for --

RYOUKO:  She made her own bed, so she lay in it.  No.  I don't have sympathy
for the manipulative witch.  <beat>  Besides, I think her desire for Akane
is *less* than maternal in nature.

SHEILA:  Oh please.

     **An old friend.** She could hear the cruel smile in the
voice. **Don't tell me you've forgotten our time together
already.  I'm hurt.**

RITSUKO:  Oh, shit.

The others slowly turn to stare, aghast, at RITSUKO ... then SHEILA slowly
nods.

SHEILA:  That pretty much sums it up.

     "What... is *that?*" Kazuo raised a bristly white eyebrow,
his nose wrinkling slightly as Akane cheerfully placed a heaping
plate of... something... in front of him.

     Akane smiled smugly, ignoring the blue-skinned ice sprite's
sudden grayish pallor.  "It's rice, octopus balls, and fried
shrimp.  Don't worry, everything's completely cooled.  It won't
burn you at all."

     Kazuo pushed the plate away with one finger.  "That's *not*
what I'm worried about."

RYOUKO:  <chuckle>

     Akane frowned, but managed to squelch the spark of her anger
that wanted desperately to flare up in response to the Ranma-like
insult.  Two and a half years of being on her own, during which
she had been forced to eat her own cooking, however, had dulled
the razor edge of her righteous indignation.  Necessity had been
an unmerciful sensei, and during that time of isolation, she
*had* managed to master rice... more or less.

SHEILA:  <smirk>

     Her eyes immediately began to water uncontrollably as every
instinct in her body screamed to disgorge the alien object
attempting hostile invasion.  Conscious of Kazuo's gaze, however,
she summoned all of her will power, fought the instinct back...
and chewed.

     Kazuo watched her face in open fascination, and a little
concern, as sweat began to streak down her forehead.  Her skin
had turned the faint color of pistachio pudding.  "Akane-san..."

HIROE:  <giggle>

     She began to tremble as, with supreme effort, she continued
chewing, her jaw working up and down frenetically.  Finally, with
a deep, primal shudder, she swallowed.

     A sickly smile made its way across her face, even as tears
streamed from her bleary eyes.  "See?" she croaked triumphantly. 
"No prob-- *hurk* --lem."  With a shaky hand, she pushed the
plate back across the table.

     Kazuo looked at her mournfully.  "Do you really hate me that
much, Akane-san?"

     Akane didn't immediately respond, focused, as she was, on
controlling the roiling in her stomach.  She swallowed hard once,
twice... and briefly shook her head "no" since she didn't dare
open her mouth to speak.

All four of them are laughing out loud.

     Yuki-onna didn't answer.  Instead, she spoke to the demon,
allowing Akane to hear the communication.  **It is useless,
Shadowcat.  I am calling your bluff.  For even if you do re-
capture Ranma and restore the Nekoken link, I have removed my
cold spell from him.  The first time his curse activates, your
link with him will disintegrate.**

     Akane listened, and a flicker of hope lit in her wet eyes.

     But the Shadowcat laughed.

     **We'll see.** The demon was frighteningly unperturbed by
this piece of knowledge, and continued with unruffled confidence.

SHEILA:  Crapcakes on fire ...

     *Is this what I have become?* she thought remorsefully.  *Am
I so childish and petty that I have to inflict pain because of my
own misery?*

RYOUKO:  In other words, the mirror of Yuki-onna?

     She couldn't remember.  Oh, she had been glomped a lot, but
that didn't count.  Even thinking back to before the blood spell,
before she was torn from the mortal plane, she couldn't remember
her last hug.

SHEILA:  <soft> I can.  It was when she and onna-Ranma were holding each
other just before she lost her hair.

RYOUKO:  <disgusted> Oh, gag me.

     "*I* could have told him that," Nabiki muttered quietly as
she began to carefully load her .357 Magnum.  

RYOUKO:  Finally, *someone* gets the sense to bring a *gun* to one of these
fights ...

     "This Jusenkyo again," he said disdainfully.  "I thought
better of you, Nabiki Tendo.  I am not the fool you take me for,
eager to swallow this most preposterous fairy tale you've
concocted to keep me from my goddess.  Your story that
Saotome..." Kuno's face crinkled in distaste.  "...and my beloved
goddess are one and the same, is an obvious fabrication, a fairy
tale the likes of which has no place in reality."

     Nabiki blinked, then raised her head and looked him in the
eyes, her face betraying nothing.  "And I suppose your fairy tale
is so much more believable?"

     Kuno blinked again.  "My..?"

     "Yes.  You know, the fairy tale where Ranma is a 'foul
sorcerer' who has enslaved your pigtailed goddess?  Sorcery or
Cursed Springs."  Nabiki shrugged.  "You're free to choose your
own fantasy, Kuno.  I'm a strong believer in individuality.  But
if I were you, I'd be worried if my own narrow perception of the
world went against what everyone else claims to be true."

     Nabiki's eyes flickered slightly as the thought of Ranma and
his "imaginary blood spell girl" flitted through her mind.  The
whole reason they were here in the first place was because of a
reality only Ranma remembered.  They had come here based on his
story and the evidence of a tape recording and a few pictures,
and nothing more.  Even now, her own memory told her that Akane
didn't exist.

     They had placed all their trust in Ranma's mind, something
that she had usually considered a risky venture under the best of
circumstances.  And now he was gone, up the mountain to face
demons, leaving them alone.  Leaving *her* alone, with all her
little niggling doubts and fears...

     The corner of her mouth quirked up in the tiniest ghost of a
smile.  "Then again, Kuno-chan, you never know.  You just might
be the sane one after all.  And wouldn't *that* be a kicker."

RITSUKO:  Now, *this* I like.  This cast has gone through so many twists and
turns and permutations of their view of reality ... and moreover, *we*, the
reader, are aware that their reality is just a fiction.  It only makes sense
that even the strangest and least likely realities might seem possible.

    "*Shampoo.*"  Cologne spoke in Cantonese.  Her words were
soft and sudden as she gazed unwaveringly at her
great-granddaughter who stood so defiantly before her.  "*You are
young and easily misled.  You fail to realize the seriousness of
the choice you have made.  This is my fault.  I should have
taught you better.  And so I forgive you of your folly.*"

    Shampoo blinked in surprise at her great-grandmother's
words.  They were not at all what she expected.  If anything, she
had been prepared for a scathing reprimand, a denouncement, even
disownment and banishment for her open defiance.  But this? 
Forgiveness?  What was she--?

    There was a flash of movement; a mere flick of Cologne's
wrist as her hand flashed out from under her robe, and Shampoo
and Mousse felt the splash of icy water against their faces.

RYOUKO:  GAH!  I refuse to believe that Shan Pu-san would be that STUPID!
To fall for THAT chestnut.  "All right, I forgive you."  "Really?" (she
says, letting down her defenses) "No." (she replies, attacking.)  

     The tiny black piglet that emerged from the crumpled,
sopping remnants of Ryoga's clothes was even more furious than
the boy had been.  With a squeal of rage, it attacked Cologne,
its sharp fangs bared furiously.

    The Amazon caught the piglet in one hand, and, with a mighty
thrust, bashed it against the stony ground.

    The piglet lay, its eyes half-closed and unseeing, and
didn't move.  Didn't even twitch.

HIROE:  'TOUSAN?

RYOUKO:  <muttered> Oyaji?

RITSUKO:  Oh, dear ...

    There was a sound, loud and sharp, like a short thunderclap,
and Cologne felt razor hot fire pierce her right shoulder,
flinging her backwards to land hard on the ground.

    Pain filled her head with a red haze, she could tell that
she was bleeding, could feel the blood already soaking her robes,
but none of that stopped her from getting immediately to her
feet, looking around to see...

    "Don't move, or next time it's your heart."  Nabiki
expression was as hard as stone as she cocked back the hammer of
her magnum with a solid *click*.

RYOUKO: <still stunned> Pretty good marksmanship, assuming that she was
seriously aiming for her shoulder ...

    Cologne grinned and pulled herself straighter, in spite of
the bleeding wound in her shoulder.

SHEILA:  AAAA!  WHAT A CLIFFHANGER!

HIROE:  MORE!  MORE!  WANT MORE!

RITSUKO:  I think that more or less gives us consensus, doesn't it, Ryouko?

RYOUKO:  <muttered> ... think I should talk to Dad -- uh, what?  Um, right.
Yeah.  More.

They file out.

Chris Davies.