INTRO
I know the grammar sucks, but send me some C&C on the story idea. I may
lengthen it
Hail Khyron the Backstabber!
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DISCLAIMER
Please excuse the excessive profanity. You have been warned.
DISCLAIMER
For those of you who haven't yet had the pleasure of eating okonomiyaki,
please don't go around expecting a pizza. It's more shredded cabbage and
kastuobishi than anything. I might write in the recipe in a later fic, but
if I do, a word of warning. PLEASE DON'T TRY TO REHEAT IT IN THE
MICROWAVE. It blows up real good like a hard-boiled egg. I just don't know
why.
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START TAPE<
War Journal Entry 1917.
Three years... That's how long I've been gone. You'd think that nothing
could change so drastically in so short a time. To Oizumi in Nerima-ku was
always a peaceful little place in big bad Tokyo. It's why I moved here. No
more fighting with the Yamaguchi-gumi. No more running away from NHK bill
collectors. I was so tired of all the crap that hit me down in Osaka that I
just planted my flag near where my head hit the ground the night before.
And I was never ever sorry for it... until the end when I was forced to
leave.
Yet, what the living bloody fuck happened to my home? I came in late the
other night only to find out that my poor little house had been sold off
and turned into some kinda transvestite boarding house eatery
whatever-have-you. No kidding. I went in to scope it out. The place is
called 'Ucchan's Okonomiyaki' (or whatever the sign on the door says, my
Jap has never been that good) and it was being run by some butch-type
lesbian wearing kitchen accessory dominatrix gear. When I got in, she was
screaming with a Kansai accent at some poor waitress (or what I thought was
a waitress at the time) to come and attend to me. I felt sorry for 'her'
and was about to order something on the menu. Then I saw 'her' Adam's apple.
Oh God, I thought I was gonna be sick right then and there. The thought of
this frigging she-male handling my food almost made me throw up and I
backed out of there in a hurry, leaving puzzled comments about 'gaijin' in
my wake.
Thinking to calm down my nerves, I headed over to a nearby jido Hanbai-ki
(vending machine) dispensing shochu liquor with orange juice. At 800 yen a
shot, I figured it was worth it. I plunked in a few coins and the machine
sputters out on me. I kept pressing my choice but nothing happened. At that
point I was pissed and I kicked the jido Hanbai-ki and told it to go
'maskake' itself. Suddenly, the thing attacked! I AM NOT FUCKING AROUND
HERE! The goddamn vending machine ATTACKED ME! No, it DIDN'T topple on me
when I kicked it! It literally fucking JUMPED ten or twenty feet in the air
and tried to flatten me! I got out of the way real fast but the vending
machine was faster on the take and tried to flank me. I made a beeline for
a narrow alley and nearly would up with my skull splattered all over the
wall. Thank God, the alley was too narrow for the vending machine to pass
through.
I guess by now, I know I'm a little bit fucked in the head. Being in
isolation so long tends to do that to a man. BUT I SWEAR ON BUDDHA'S FAT
BALD HEAD THAT I DID NOT IMAGINE ALL THIS SHIT UP!!!
I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but I held it in and decided to
camp out at a vacant lot I knew was nearby. I was really sleepy by that
point and it was getting late. The street was empty except for this kid
coming down the other end and on the other side. The kid was about my
height and was wearing dusky-coloured traveling gear. Pretty well-worn too,
from the look of things. The kid looked like he just came back from a
camping trip because he had a large rucksack over his shoulders. He wasn't
even looking my way, so I ignored him and headed over to the vacant lot.
Suddenly, the guy screamed in Jap about a wild horse (I figured the guy
just bet and lost heavily at the tracks) and punched into a utility pole.
Guess what? The fucking pole shatters and almost decapitated me by inches.
I shrieked in fright and jumped back in a panic. Then the guy turned on me;
obviously pissed that his attack didn't deep six me when it should have.
"Oh shit," I remeber thinking. "A fucking mugger!" So I ran off. I don't
give a flying fuck if I could have Swiss cheesed his sorry ass with my
Maschinengewehr-34. Momma didn't raise no idiot, if this guy could slag
through ninety centimeters of pre-stressed concrete, than I was not taking
any chances. 'Sides, my gun was still packed and the mugger was too close
for me to get it out in time. I ran off dropping a smoke grenade in my wake
to cover my tracks. It was about fifteen minutes later before I collapsed.
Where are all the cops that should be patrolling the area? Come to think of
it, I ain't seen one koban all day.
I finally found a secluded portion of the park overlooking Shakujii Koen
and dropped in exhaustion. I could barely roll out my bed mat and place the
MG-34 on its tripod. I took off my glasses and fell asleep hugging my gun.
The next morning I woke up with the sun on my face. Half-asleep, ravenously
hungry, and still remembering my dream about Big Bird and Mr.
Snuffleuppagus, I spot a blurred object entered my field of vision. To my
eyes (and still sleepy brain), it appeared to be a large bird with reddish
dark plumage sailing overhead. It was probably several hundred meters in
the air and heading north. "Holy shit!" I thought. "That's one big fuckin'
bird!" Sudden visions in my head of a nice ostrich breakfast shut off my
remaining brain-cells that were starting to wonder how an ostrich could be
flying overhead.
My stomach in full control of my body, I rolled over in my sleeping bag,
grabbed the MG-34, and rolled back raising the weapon to the proper
45-degree angle. The "ostrich" was now in line with the iron sights and the
heavy barrel. I pulled the trigger only to be greeted with a loud 'Click.'
"Shit!" I screamed. "Where's the belt-feed?!" I cursed and scrambled to get
the ammunition feeder into the loading tray. The steady sound of what
seemed to be canvas being ripped filled the morning air. It was at this
point, I finally took stock of what I was doing.
I was sitting in an anti-aircraft position WASTING precious 7,9x57mm SmK(H)
rounds on WHAT?! The idea of an ostrich in Japan is stupid. The idea of an
ostrich flying overhead is dumb. The concept of a bright red ostrich flying
overhead in Japan is totally fucking dumb. The reality of wasting ninety
rounds of ammunition on a non-existent bright red ostrich flying overhead
in Japan is so fucking embarrassing that the only incident I can think of
that would match this level of embarrassment would be to be caught by a New
Zealand farmer in his sheep pen with my pants down. And even then, this
'ostrich business' is still way too fucking stupid.
Ah, hell. What the fuck am I saying? God I make no sense rambling like
this. So what? Why do I even bother transcribing my thoughts onto this
goddamn recorder. Nobody will care enough to read it through. I don't give
a damn now. I'm real hungry. I saw a Chinese restaurant yesterday. (Wasn't
here three years ago though.) I'm gonna get me some shark's fin dimsum and
some sliced beef congee for breakfast. Then I check out Furinkan. I hope
Tatewaki is doing okay. Poor kid used to get beaten up a lot until I taught
him how to fight. I think he still has my books on classical Jap poetry...
STOP TAPE<
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So? How do ya like? I always wondered how Nerima was before Ranma came to
town! ^_^
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