Oh, sure! Just make my efforts completely fruitless, by posting Teasers
that blow away everything I've ever scribed. *mutter, mutter, grumble*
Well, ALS is not cooperating and my Mind's Eye wants to look at things
I can't write yet. So lets try a little block-busting. Series continued
at such intervals as permitted by other effects. Whatever gets the best
comments
gets to be worked on the next time I get blocked. Probably.
Ranma was dead, to begin with. Quite thoroughly, and unequivocally
deceased. He knew this fact because of the two big, burly figures who
had materialized out of thin, er, water immediately after he hit the
river bottom.
Here, in this case, being a drab and dreary plain, imperfectly
provided with chairs or tables or places of rest or nourishment, but
well endowed with, indeed possessed of a complete, pluperfect over-
sufficiency of, lines or queues.
*This whole intro had the feel of a Douglas Adams novel, if that worthy
ever stopped sitting on his laurels and put as much effort into his
current work as he did back when the first two Hitchhiker's books were
published.
_Long_ lines, _extended_ queues, which seemed to each be composed of
an essentially infinite number of plodding linestanders, snaking toward
some indefinite goal at a pace which could easily be exceeded by any
random arthritic snail. Only to arrive, finally, at a desk occupied by
an officious petty bureaucrat who would immediately hand you 3 reams of
paperwork and direct you to the next queue.
Ranma had been engaged in this process for what he conservatively
estimated to be a short eternity now, and the only thing he had
accomplished was to ruin 3 pens and 200 sheets of paper. He would have
preferred to deal with the situation by simply beating up a few of the
bureaucrats, instead, but it was obvious to him that they had no
capability to speed the process up. He would have jumped the line, but
he had no conception of which line to jump _to_, and the idea of spend-
ing effort to get more paper more quickly held little appeal. Action of
any sort seemed to be especially hopeless as a matter of fact, and
_surely_ he was getting somewhere. Wasn't he?
*Gah! Even a slightly cliched description of Purgatory (for so he seems
to be located within) is given a new freshness, simply by virtue of your
prose. No fair! Gonna pout now!*
Several _long_ eternities later, Ranma came to the conclusion that
he had in fact been getting nowhere, and had been better off that way.
He came to this conclusion as the line he was currently occupying
approached a door set in the wall of a freestanding building, towards
which all the various complexes of queues were gravitating. Entering
the door, his paperwork was suddenly whisked away by a hapless clerk,
who ushered him into large hall before scurrying away. The focus of
the hall was the imperial figure who sat, robed in gorgeous brocade and
encrusted with Chinese symbols of divinity, luck, magic and judgement,
in a low, backless throne at the apex of the hall, veiled in shadow
and surrounded by ministers, clerks and eunuchs.
*I _know_ I shouldn't ask this, but how did Ranma know they were
eunuchs?*
Punched, but thered been nobody there to punch him. So what had ...
*I know such nits are petty to point out in a teaser, but I need to
salvage some faint echo of my pride: "there'd".*
fire! He'd seen fire out of the corner of his eye, felt a burning when
he felt the blow. His briefcase! He'd slung it on his back to protect
it! It had blown up!
Well, Akane, sometimes ... and she certainly had access to his bag,
but he couldn't believe it! Wouldn't believe it. She wouldn't ...
would she? Had he made her _that_ mad? Hurt her _that_ much?
No! No, he wouldn't believe that until he had no choice. It had
probably been Mousse, anyway. The guy was just mental, sometimes. But
he had to find out! He'd have to get back to life somehow, and find
out.
*Seriously, Mousse is a far more likely suspect than Akane, if a bomb
really is what did the job. I mean, he has used them before, at least
in the anime.*
Ranma turned from the scene in disgust and was moving to quit the
whole area in a search for wholesome food, or at least wholesome
company -- which, he felt, must be present somewhere -- when he heard,
above the crowd noise, a girl's sobbing voice. Spinning around, he
narrowed his eyes and observed, a little distance from the main melee,
a small girl spirit, apparently 10 or 12 years in age, laying curled
around herself on the colorless ground and weeping faded, bitter tears.
*Ahem. Anyone not knowing where this is going to lead, please raise
your hand....*
The other grinned at him unabashedly, "Master Li says that it never
hurts to expand your capabilities. Seriously though, it's important,
and
there will be demon patrols on this whole area like a fungus in about
twenty minutes. Oh, by the way, my personal name is Lu and my family
name is Yu, but I am not to be confused with the eminent author of
the 'Classic of Tea'. Call me Number Ten Ox, everybody does."
*I just know I'm missing some kind of pun here....*
Master Li grinned evilly, "My boy, I've been here for centuries now
and I've kept my eyes open. With Ox's strength, your fighting skill,
and the plan I worked out
*"... we can at last rescue Buttercup before she marries Prince
Humperdink." Jeez. You do steal from the best, don'tcha?*
we may have, so to speak, a hope in Hell.
You see, I've bribed some of the guards thoroughly, and found out how
to get over the wall of this Hell. And also where they store the body
clay, so we can make new ones to use on earth. And one more thing."
Ranma leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, "What's that?"
Master Li's eyes nearly disappeared into his wrinkles, "I know where
they keep the keys to the main gate."
Ranma sat back and considered briefly. It would almost certainly
get him in even worse trouble than he was now. But it was a way out,
_if_ it worked. He thought of the faces he knew in Nerima, he thought
on a watery grave, and he thought of a small girl, even now clinging
to his leg. And he made his decision: he might be dead, he might be
damned, but he didn't have to take it laying down. "Okay," he said,
"I'm in. Now what?"
Master Li grinned and leaned in close, "Now here's my plan."
*Looking forward to this. Of course, I'm also looking forward to the
next installment of R&AALS, so you'd best look into cloning yourself,
soon.*
--Freemage
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma Nibunnoichi
And Smash the Bolts
The Memoirs of Number Ten Ox
--
"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am...apparently all out
of my trademark blue smoke..."
--Darkwing Duck
-Eric Hallstrom, Happy New Year
Eric Hallstrom hallcon@mindspring.com
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