At 09:34 PM 2/28/98 -0500, Christopher Angel wrote:

Well, my pre-readers appear to have gotten lives (the bastiches) so I'm
sending this out now.

Hey, it happens  :)




Not bad.  A few problems with spelling, grammar, and punctuation, but a
good start :)

***************************

Some creations, a change here and there...not bad...not bad at all.  What
else do they do...fanfiction?  Self-insertion?  Been there, done that, 

Besides this Guy's problem, that *is* the problem with self-insertion fics
in general. There are so many out there that there's almost no wiggle room
left for a new insertion fic to be "original". It's almost impossible to
write one and not find out 1) someone else already did it that way, or 2)
yours is very similar to one someone else already did.

"He's cute," Nene exclaimed.  The other three women looked at her and she
wilted.  "Whaaat?"

I'd expect this out of Linna  :)

There was a roll of thunder.  Sylia started in surprise.  In order of a
thunderclap to be heard in her labs, it would have to be almost
destructively loud on the surface.

In order for a thunderclap

"...and another thing," the man continued, not having stopped his tirade,
"you good-for-nothing holier-than-thou jerk, what the hell makes you think I

Well he *is* God. I'd say that makes Him "Holier-than-thou"  ^_^

"Oh, YOU people," he muttered, a tone of infinite disgust in his voice.  "I
suppose it was to much to ask for it to be a dream, I suppose," he sighed

Isn't "I suppose..., I suppose" redundant?

Chris snickered.  "Young man...oh Tyr, that's funny," he chortled.  "For
your information, young lady," he drawled, "my name is Christopher Angel,
age 22, electrical engineer."  

Since he's claiming to be 22, if they're in 2032, they're the same age.  If
it's later than 2032, she's older than him.

He frowned up
at the ceiling and sighed.  "Highly knowledgeable on the theory and
mechanics of technology thirty-five years out of date, oh fun and joy," he

Depends on how much tech has advanced in the past 35 years. What he knows
could be much more than that out of date, though 35 chronological years may
have passed.

"Um...where I come from," he paused and grimaced.  Chris just knew this was
going to suck.  "You're an anime.  Bubblegum Crisis from Artmic.  Sylia
Stingray and her band of mercenaries, the most attractive fighters ever to
hit the screen.

I'm sure fans of Sailor Moon, Rayearth, Evangelion, Silent Mobius, and many
others might take exception to that statement  ^_^

"No particularly," Chris replied.  He smirked over at Nene who was playing
with the computer under the screen, trying to trace the connection to it's
source.  "Good luck, Ms. Romanova, you'll need it."  He looked back up at

it's = is is
its = possessive

WELL, I LIKED THE SELF-INSERTION IDEA, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THE LAST

TIME I DID THAT...

"Got you crucified," Chris said in a bored tone of voice.  "So you decided
to do Chris-insertion.  Yaaaaaaaaaaay.  I'm going to die."

"Got him crucified?" Priss repeated in a scandalized voice.  "Who does this
guy think he is?"

"God," Nene replied absently as she tried another tracker program.  "Do you
know of any other beings who can create universes and died by crucifixion?"

Not to get all theological or anything, but in my religious belief system
it wasn't God that got crucified.

Sylia said nothing for a moment.  What do you say when in a four hour
period, a man has appeared in your lab, been shocked into unconsciousness
TWICE, has shown evidence of nanomachines in his body decades ahead of the
time, and some completely untraceable person has just asked you to take care
of the guy?

Still clueless about Daddy's work, eh Sylia?

"I'd like to go down in the record now for saying I really hate this," Priss
noted, and scowled down at the comatose man.  She suddenly got a puzzled
look on her face.  "Hey, is it just me or is he bigger?"

"PRISS!" Linna gasped, scandalized.

Priss gave her a peeved look.  "I meant TALLER," she said defensively.

Now *that's* Linna  <weg>

"Legally, you're not a boomeroid," Sylia told him.  "You've only gained
about thirty kilos of body mass, making you about twenty percent artificial,
still well under the seventy percent limit."  She smiled condescendingly.
"Although you now top 2.1 meters, so you'll really stick out in a crowd."

Is my math right?  30Kg = 20% of his mass, so he masses 150 Kg?  He weighs
330 pounds? And at 2.1 meters, he's 6 feet 10 inches tall? 

No kidding he'll stand out in a crowd....

"Yay, maybe I can try out for the NBA.  Wait I don't play basketball.  Is
there even an NBA?  Of course there's an NBA, what would MJ do?  Baseball?

In 2032? Long retired and running Nike?

Sylia made a sort of guilty start and pressed a control.  The restraints
immediately loosened, and Chris sat up on the bed, and looked curiously at
the silvery dust that spilled off his body.  "Aluminum," Sylia supplied.
"It was what the first table was made of, your body took it in until it
could replace it with something better, which appears now to be a
titanium-tungsten-steel-technetium alloy."

His body converted the table?

"Well," Sylia began.  "We do need to talk, Mr. Angel.  I'd like an
explanation of what went on earlier."  She and Nene began to walk towards
the door to the lab.

Chris sighed.  "Sure, but prepared to hear some really weird shit," he
warned, and swung his legs over the side of the table.  "Excuse me?" he
called, and the pair of women turned.  "Where are my pants?"  Nene
wordlessly indicated a pile of carbonized fabric in the corner of the room.
"Oh.  Man, that was my favorite shirt!" he complained.

They're not going to give him anything to wear?

***

A shiver washed over Chris and he straightened his back to dispel the
residual discomfort from it.  He wasn't really used to being in the same
room as four exceedingly attractive women when he was fully dressed.  In his
current state of undress it was something akin to torture, and the
incredibly...high class nature of Sylia's living room wasn't helping,
neither was the suspicious looks Mackie was giving him.

I guess not

Chris sighed and leaned back in his chair.  "Where to begin?"  He frowned
for a minute, then brightened.  As Nene opened her mouth to speak. he

speak, he

"Well, yeah," Chris admitted, "but that's beside the point.  "No really, I'm

Extra open quote before 'No really'

"Sis," Mackie piped up, "no offense, but if I'm supposed to believe your
story about what happened in the lab, why shouldn't I believe what he's
saying?"

Linna giggled a bit.  "He's got a point, Sylia."

Not really.  Totally Plausible Alternative Theory #1) He *is* a boomer,
dropped on them by Genom, who has known exactly who the KS are and where
they hang out from nearly day one. Everything else that's gone on is just
window dressing.

"Since I can't prove otherwise," Chris continued, "I suggest you take my
word for it," he offered, and Sylia nodded grudging acceptance.  "What else
do you want to know?"

They don't have to take his word for anything. They're a "secret"
organization, they don't know him, and Sylia's being an idiot for agreeing
to anything just on his say-so.

The others just stared at him, and finally Linna spoke.  "Now, I believe
you," she said.  "No one could get that angry over something they made up.
No one would make something that goofy up anyway."  Priss snorted, but
nodded her agreement.

And this woman has been exposed to theatrical stage productions?  Hey
Linna, ever hear of *acting*?

"It sounds ridiculous!" Priss declared.

"So does Neon Genesis Evangelion, Magical Knights Rayearth, Martian
Successor Nadesico, and Kigamure Orange Road, but those are real anime
names."

At least Kimagure Orange Road *means* something in Japanese.

He paused, and shook his head.  "Too bad He didn't send me into
Magical Twilight or F^3."  

Why? Those names don't mean anything either. <whistling naively>

And if you're into "entertainment", you could have at least chosen
something a bit "higher class", like "Cream Lemon"  <weg>

As he stripped, Chris shook his head ruefully.  "Nice bunch.  Priss is a
little bit on the hostile side, but what do you expect from a retrothrash
singer like her?" He turned on the shower and played with the temperature
for a few moments.  "But by Tyr, they're a quartet of centerfolds,
especially Nene and Linna!" he continued, and sunk his voice into a
lecherous drawl.  "I'd buy THAT fer a dollar!"

If this story continues, I hope this bozo gets a major attitude adjustment
- ASAP!

"*I* think we should just waste him," Priss said bluntly.  "Rule One,
remember?"

Nobody's divulged any info. *he* told *them*

Nene patted him on the arm sympathetically.  "Don't worry," she soothed,
"we'll find something for you to do."  She winked at Linna, and began
listing things of on her fingers.  "You could work at the Silky Doll..."

Jeanne's Major Problem with BGC Insertion Fics:  Insert-ee finds the KS,
them accepting the insert-ee knows who they are, becoming friends, joining
the KS, all within an extremely short period of time -- applies to pretty
much all of them, including "Hopelessly Lost", "Bubblegum Zone", "A Certain
Point of View".   

Sylia's referring to this guy as "another little brother", and has sent
Linna and Nene out with him to buy him clothes on *her* credit card, all
within hours of this mysterious stranger appearing on her floor???

"Nene," Chris spoke in a strangely calm tone, "how long does it usually take
ADP to get to the sight of an attack?"

sight = vision
site = location

"That's my point," Daley insisted.  "That boomer's fusion-capable.  Remember
the last time someone went up against a fusion-capable boomer in one of
these?  They picked him up with a straw."

As seen in BGC, BGCrash, and the ADP manga, fusion boomers fuse with
whatever they touch (if they want to ^_^).  There isn't anything left to
pick up - whatever they choose to fuse with becomes part of them.  If there
was something left, the fusion-capable boomer was just acting like a
regular boomer, not a fusion one, so fusion-capability doesn't matter.

Snarling in seeming anger, it shoved it's damaged arm into Chris' chest, but
the tentacles slid across it as they attempted to fuse and found nothing to
latch onto.  

How about *him*?  Move up a little and latch onto his neck? Or to the right
or left and snag an arm?

Chris was not idle during this, and swung his sword arm back to
slice the boomer again in the abdomen, this time halving it into two.

'halving it into two' is redundant






Jeanne Hedge


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