*whirr* *breep* 
Soundfile request.
Accessing KORN -- "Wicked"...
<SOUND ON>

That's right folks, it's another spamfic. 

Presenting...
_________________________
"I Have No ****ing Idea!"  
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Sequel to the box office bust "What The **** Is Going On?"

-------

	When last we left our heroes, Ryoga had just vanquished Ranma 
Saotome, using his new cursed form of a Veritech.  Unfortunately, this 
entire previous incident was a stunning example of "If you don't think
about it, it can't happen."  The corollary of this philosophical law is,
"When you finally DO get around to thinking about it, that's when it WILL
happen.  And just when things were getting good."  

	Our story begins when a tiny logical voice in Ryoga's brain (not to
mention several nit-picking but well-meaning FFMLers) pointed out that
{Hey, aren't Jusenkyo curses cumulative?  Look what happened to that poor
bugger Pantyhose Tarou!}  With the formation of this thought, the very 
fabric of Space and Time was torn asunder.  (One might assume that if the
fabric of Space and Time was some kind of durable cotton knit rather than
a cheap polyester, this kind of thing wouldn't happen quite so often.)
  
	Caught up in a puff of logic, the bodacious bandanna-ed Battloid
vanished, only to reform as an all-too-human Ryoga in the air over the 
Cursed Springs of Jusenkyo.  
	
	The unfortunate Hibiki barely managed to scream "Not againnnnn...."
before plummeting like a.... well, like something that plummets, into one
of the cursed springs.  With a last glance at his cue cards, the Chinese
guide rushed on camera.  Drawing himself up, he assumed a dignified mien.
{You know, I'm getting kind of fed up with this whole "very tragic story"
kind of thing,} the guide thought.  {Maybe it's time for something different.}

	"Ahem!" The guide cleared his throat, and addressed the pool that
Ryoga had so recently plummetted into with an phoney upper-crust British 
accent.  "I say, old chap!  Seems you're in a bit of a spot, what?  Poor 
bugger, I'm afraid you've fallen into the spring of the drowned Veritech, 
doncha know?"  In a whispered aside to the camera, the guide said "I'm 
afraid these bloody curses are cumulative.  The poor sod's not going to 
know what hit him, if you know what I mean, old chum?"  

	Ryoga came up squealing, and was quickly airborne.  He dwindled 
quickly into a speck in the blue sky, a faint 'bweeeeeee' the only trace of
his passage.  The guide puffed idly on his pipe.

	"Wahl now," he drawled.  "It ain't every day ya see a flyin' pig.
That's right.  It ain't never boaring around here."  The guide muttered to
himself as he strolled away.  "I mean, the scenery's rather plane, but 
sow what?  There's lots of porking spaces..."

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Author's Notes: I won't waste energy on typing any notes here, I'd
rather save it for dodging the rain of blunt objects that are doubtless
headed my way... ^_^

Mike
msimmons@bcgroup.net
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Garden/2506