Pay no attention to this fic.  It is just spam.  Please don't think this 
reflects in any way, shape, or form on my actual writing ability.

Unless you like it.  In which case feel free to sing my praises, and 
elevate me to Godhood status... Or even, the coveted rank of Bailesu!!!!

Begin fic here====>

"Ranma no BAKA!"

As usual, this battlecry was followed by a nice, solid *WHOMP* of mallet 
engaging skull.  Not nice in the 'Oh my, how Nice!' Kasumi type of 
meaning, but rather the old, archaic meaning of 'Accurate'.  And so, 
this was a nice, solid whomp.

After a whirlwind courtship, shotgun wedding, torrid honeymoon (That 
modesty forbids this author from penning) and a rather bitter divorce, 
that both parties still argue about to this day, said mallet fell away 
from said skull, and Ranma slumped forward, his visa to the world of 
consciousness having been revoked.

As Akane dragged Ranma back into the Tendo household, she mused to 
herself, "Honestly.... All I was trying to do was make him a nice 
lunch."

Now, what should have happened at this point in time, Pfil should have 
shown up to tell us exactly what effects Akane's cooking would have had 
on the environment if Ranma had not disposed of it properly.  Lord knows 
I paid that little fairy enough money to do it.  And besides, no one 
ever expects Pfil's Educational Corner!

Sadly, because no one ever expects it, Ranma was not aware of the 
ramifications of his dumping the chicken egg fuu young behind the dojo. 
 Due to such things as seepage, ground water, and natural springs, Pfil 
got contanminated, and isn't allowed out of quarintine for another four 
weeks.

But now, back to the story.

As Akane trudged in to her ancestorial home, the rather loud thumping of 
a limp Ranma hitting the floor diverted Nabiki's attention from her 
exercise program.  Curling her long, tapered fingers into fists, and 
resting them on her shaply hips, hips that dragged your eye both 
downward to succulant, slender legs that whisper promises of heaven, and 
up to a smooth washboard stomach, without so much as an inch of excess 
fat, which in turn draws your gaze upwards to twin mounds that speak of 
nothing but ecstasy.  It takes no strech of the imagination to dream of 
the supple flesh that is hidden beneath Nabiki's royal blue sweatshirt, 
and even less to imagine the twin peaks of coral glistening with my...

"Dream on, fanboy.  That's never going to happen." Nabiki said to the 
author, while Akane and Ranma looked rather embarressed at the detailed 
description.  And although you couldn't see her right at the moment, 
Kasumi was blushing furiously.  "Can we get on with this fic, now?"

Ahem... As I was saying, the thumping of Ranma's head against the floor 
disturbed the angel's.... I mean Nabiki's... exercise routine.  "Gee, 
Akane.  You keep hitting Ranma like that, and one day he may never 
recover."  Both Akane and Ranma, who had just woken up, seemed to go 
into shock.  Nabiki actually caring?  As the two stood there 
contemplating heart attacks, a man drove past in a 1929 Bentley, loudly 
bemoaning the short comings of one of Bach's lesser known pieces, 'Flat 
Bottomed Girls'.  Upon hearing Nabiki's declaration, he stopped the car, 
and prepared for the end of the world.  Although he could have sworn 
that he stopped that in 1990.  It hadn't been eleven years since then.  
Had it?

"I mean, I know he's a lame excuse for a fiancee, but he is good for 
business."  She continued.  And all was right with the world.  So the 
man drove off, and proceeded to change cassettes.  Ahhh.... A beautiful 
piece by Mozart.  'Another One Bites the Dust'.  One of his betters, 
acutally.

Back inside the Tendo home, Akane and Ranma had sufficently recovered to 
begin sputtering nonsensical phrases about, looking for a nice, mild 
retort.  They were both sure there was an insult in there somewhere.

"Oh my!" Kasumi exclaimed in a very kasumi-esque manner.  Which is to 
say, she said it barely above normal conversational tones.  Continuing 
in the same tone of voice, "Ranma is lame?  I suppose it's time to take 
him out to pasture then."  As the others looked at her strangely, Kasumi 
reached around the corner, and grabbed a friend of hers.  "I'm sure 
Shotgun-chan would be glad to help." she said with a *CLA-THUNK*.

Kasumi pumping a shotgun had a mystical effect.  Nabiki, Akane, and 
Ranma were mentally reduced to rabbits, although they retained their 
sense of self.  And like a rabbit faced with twin barrels of Flaming 
Buckshot Death, Akane took the opportunity to run and hide, while Nabiki 
jumped down a convient (plot)hole, suddenly remember a previous 
engagement that she didn't want to be tardy for.

Ranma, on the other hand, thrust his hand into the air, and shoute out 
loud, "MOON CRYSTAL POWER!!! MAKE UP!!!!"

Now might be a good time to make a note about anime.  Ranma, for 
instance, knew he was an anime character.  More over, he knew he was a 
comedic anime character.  Further then that, he knew he was a comedic, 
shonen anime character.  As opposed to Sailor Moon, which is a Magical 
Girl Shoujo anime character.

Thus, Ranma could shout all the silly phrases he wanted to, but there 
was no way he was going to end up in a fuku righting wrongs and 
triumphing over evil.  Not unless he did it in a decidedly shonen way.

As stated before, Ranma was now in possesion of the mind of a rabbit.  
Specifically, Usagi Tsukino, incase you haven't already figured that 
out.  Now in a situation like this, normally Usagi would turn into 
Sailor Moon, and open a can of Whupass on the bad guys while giving the 
male audience gratuitious panty shots, and encouraging pedophila by 
showing fourteen year old girls with double-d breasts.  However, as the 
transformation didn't work, Ranma had to fall back to plan B.

Scream for Help.

Normally, Usagi screams like a wailing baby.  Ranma screams much 
differently.  For example, you can actually understand what he is 
saying.

Like now, for instance.

"HEEEEEEELP!!!!!"

See, not too hard.  It was a rather masculine scream.  Wussy, pansy, and 
wimpy are a few other good words to describe it, but this is Ranma we 
are talking about.  Man amongst men.  Even if it is a Wimpy Pansy-assed 
Wussy-man amongst men.  Still a man.

And that cry was answered by a rather good looking Chinese fellow in a 
black trench coat and sun glasses, among other clothes.  He spit out the 
toothpick he was chewing, and leveled a cold gaze at Kasumi and her 
Shotgun-chan.  Before Kasumi could react, the man whipped out twin nine 
millimeters, and blasted cute little Shotgun-chan into cute little 
Shotgun-chan pieces, leaving Kasumi to clean up the mess.

Yes friends.  It was Chow Yun Fat.  And Happosai recognized the might of 
the master and Bowed before him.  Then the Fat-man put a bullet in his 
head.

And there was much rejoicing.

***MANY MONTHS LATER***

Aren't cut aways wonderful?

***AND A FEW MINUTES AFTER THAT COMMENT***

"So are you telling me that Hong Kong action star Chow Yun Fat saved you 
from almost certain doom by unloading 36 rounds into a shotgun?" a man 
asked Ranma.

"That's right Jerry.  And I still can't believe that Akane hits me all 
the time." Ranma said.

"We have to go to a commercial now, but when we get back, we'll continue 
talking to other couples that physically abuse each other and still make 
time to have wacky adventures that thrill the American counterculture.  
Don't go away!"

----END FOR NOW----

Ummm... Nabiki?  I have a little business deal for you.

"I don't care.  I am sick and tired of doing lemon fanfics.  Especially 
Lemon Self Insertions."

Okay... Mind doing a little self insertion for me anyway?

"Ecchi.  Go away before I sic the Hentai patrol on you."

---This is the End, My only friend, the end.---

Author's notes:

Where the hell did this come from?  This was only supposed to be Ranma 
and Akane go on Jerry Springer!

I don't know if this is going to be as funny tomorrow, but I'm finding 
it hilarious right now!
-- 
JD Farber
email: sabreb@erols.com
ICQ: 3378089

Wait a second....  That's not Suzaku...

It's a GIANT CHICKEN!!