Subject: [FFML] [impro] mtcff ULTRA#24 : Monday Morning Hangovers!
From: Twoflower
Date: 9/29/1999, 9:26 PM
To: ffml@ffml.fanfic.com


[The most current episode. Enjoy!]

Controversial Jack was happy.  Which could be a good thing or a bad 
thing, depending on how you looked at it.  Good, because it meant he 
wasn't out causing chaos and mass destruction at that moment.  Bad, 
because it probably meant that he had just finished causing chaos and 
mass destruction.

At any rate, Kasumi had sent out his latest batch of invitations 
(elegantly engraved, using only the finest neon pink parchment and 
chartreuse ink) to his very own, hand-picked group of fighters.  They 
should be arriving any day now.

Jack sat down in his new throne, a solid gold high-backed swivel chair, 
and spun around until he was dizzy.  Then he staggered over to his desk, 
where Mr. Duck waited with the final plans for today's fight.

"SQUEAK!"

"What's that, Mr. Duck?  You have something important to tell me?"

"SQUEAK!"

"No, I'm not sure whether Ken bleaches his hair or dyes his eyebrows 
black."

"SQUEAK!"

"Oh.  What do you mean, there's no Omega match scheduled for today?!  
There must be!  Far be it from us to deprive the population from their 
needed weekly dose of senseless violence!"  Without missing a beat, Jack 
called out to his secretary.  "Kasumi!"

The formerly divine being appeared in an instant.  "Yes, Jack-sama?"

He scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it into an airplane, 
and expertly tossed it to Kasumi.  "Fetch me the person whose name 
appears on this paper."

Kasumi opened the paper and looked puzzled.  "For what purpose?"

"That person is..."  Jack struck a dramatic pose with Mr. Duck, "the 
special guest vict...er, challenger in today's Omega match!"

"And the opponent?"

"Sore wa...ah, screw it."  He sauntered over to Kasumi and whispered a 
name into her ear.

Kasumi paled.  "I don't think that's such a good idea, Jack-sama."

"Just do it!"

*****

Daisuke was getting frustrated.  Once again, the show was about to 
start, and Hiroshi was nowhere to be found.  As he walked back down the 
hallway, something caught his eye.  There was a sign on the door to the 
broom closet that read, "This is just an ordinary broom closet."  As he 
watched, the door opened a crack, an arm shot out, attached another sign 
underneath the first one, and ducked back in.

The new sign read, "Hiroshi is most definitely not hiding in here.  No 
sirree, nope, nuh-uh."

Daisuke frowned.  Once again, the door opened, the arm shot out, and 
another sign was hung on the door, underneath the previous two.

This one read, "Lilith, Hiroshi is hiding in the men's locker room on 
the fifth floor."

Daisuke shook his head.  Then Lilith came skipping down the hall.  
"Hiiii!" she exclaimed in her most kawaii manner.  "Have you seen Hiro-
kun around?"

Wordlessly, Daisuke pointed at the door.

"Aha!  That silly boy thought he could get away.  Well, you'd better 
watch out, 'cause here I come!"  And Lilith ran off, in search of the 
fifth floor men's locker room.  (If she'd stopped to think for a moment, 
she would have realized that actually, there was no fifth floor.)

"Hiroshi," Daisuke said evenly, "she's gone.  You can come out now."

"Are you sure?" came a muffled voice from behind the door.

"Positive."

The door slowly opened, and Hiroshi slipped out.  "Phew.  That was 
close."  He took one look at his co-announcer and gaped.  "Daisuke, what 
in hell are you wearing?"

"It's called a kilt, Hiroshi.  It's from Scotland."  He produced a 
package and handed it to Hiroshi.  "Jack's orders.  Here's yours."

"There is no way I'm wearing a skirt in public."

"Ranma does it all the time."

"Yeah, but Ranma's usually a girl when he does it."

Daisuke sighed.  "I never thought I'd say this, but...Work with me here, 
Hiroshi."

"Exactly who are you, and what have you done with Daisuke?"

"Let's just get going, all right?"



      				LIVE!
                       FROM THE ULTRADOME!
                      THE BIGGEST SPECTACLE
                     IN ANIME AND VIDEO GAME
                      SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT
                        AND IMPROFANFIC!
                         IT'S TIME FOR...

            {    M A G I C A L  C R O S S O V E R    }
            {  F I G H T I N G  F E D E R A T I O N  }
            {             .-----------.              }
            {             | U-L-T-R-A |              }
            {             `-----------'              }
            { http://www.pixelscapes.com/improfanfic }

               Episode 24 : Monday Morning Hangovers!
                     Written by Kate Malloy
	With special Marlo scenes by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne!


Take the wildest, loudest, rowdiest, most excited crowd you've ever 
seen.  Multiply that by ten.  Add in eardrum-busting, pulse-pounding 
music, and the most spectacular display of pyrotechnics since the 
eruption of Mount Vesuvius, and you might come somewhat close to the 
experience that is Ultra.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...THIS...IS...ULTRA!"  Hiroshi, having gotten 
Lilith off his back for the time being, and having bribed the camera 
people to focus on him from only the waist up, was back in form.  
"TONIGHT, WE HAVE A SHOW THAT'S SO AMAZING, SO EXCITING, SO..."  He 
paused.  "Daisuke, where's my thesaurus?  Oh, never mind, I found it.  
SO STIMULATING, MOVING, ANIMATING, PROVOCATIVE, AROUSING, ROUSING, 
ARRESTING, IMPELLING, STIRRING, THRILLING...OW!"  Daisuke had slammed 
the thesaurus shut on Hiroshi's hand.

"I believe they've gotten the point, Hiroshi.  Tonight's show features 
the usual: a Lambda match and a Gamma match."

"Daisuke, Daisuke, Daisuke!  This isn't some boring restaurant where 
patrons just order the dull old 'usual.'  This is ULTRA!"  The crowd 
screamed an affirmation.  "Why, even if we only have two matches 
scheduled this week, you can bet that they'll be the GREATEST examples 
of ULTRA-VIOLENCE EVER to be shown on WORLDWIDE TELEVISION!  Am I 
RIGHT?!"  

The crowd screamed again.  The noise so disturbed a passing butterfly 
that it flapped its wings out of sync, setting into motion a chain of 
events that would eventually lead to the worst storm ever to hit Outer 
Elbonia.  But that was another story entirely.

"Anyway, we'll begin tonight's show right after these messages." Daisuke 
finished.

*****

Backstage, Ash and Misty were entertaining a visitor.

"Brock!  Great to see you!" Ash exclaimed.

"It's great to see you guys, too," Brock replied.  "After I saw what's 
been happening, I knew I had to come."

"What Team Rocket did to Pikachu was absolutely terrible!" Misty cried.

"That's really low-down, even for them," Brock commented.

"Yeah..." Ash said sadly.  (Pikachu...why won't you come back?  I know 
you can't possibly be having more fun on your own than when you were 
with us.  I know I've made some mistakes, but I promise I'll try 
harder!)

"Ash?" Brock asked with concern.

"Huh?"

"We asked you if you wanted to go get a snack or something," Misty 
repeated, slightly annoyed.  "Weren't you listening?"

"Sorry.  I was just thinking about Pikachu.  Even if we did pay Team 
Rocket back for what they did, I wonder if he even noticed."

"I know he did, Ash," Brock said, reassuringly.  "C'mon, let's go get 
some food!"

As the three headed towards the cafeteria, Brock caught sight of Mai, 
who was walking towards them.  His face started to glow red, and he 
approached her in an almost trance-like state.

"Uh oh," said Ash, as he and Misty ducked for cover.

"Hi!" Brock exclaimed cheerfully.  "Would you be interested in going out 
with me?"

Unfortunately, Mai was still quite upset about Sie and Athena's 
betrayal, and she had some bad memories about that Team Hentai incident 
from way back when, not to mention that the last time she encountered 
Ash and Misty, they were hurling Pokeballs a la Greg Maddux.  So she was 
just a little bit edgy...

"Eeek!  Help!  Pervert!  Get away from me!"

*****

"Well, Brock, the doctors say you'll be good as new in a few days."  Ash 
attempted to console his friend.

"Yeah, we'll take good care of Onix and everybody for you!" Misty 
promised.

"MMPH MMPH!  MMMPPHHHHH!"

*****

"And we're back!" Hiroshi exclaimed.

Daisuke squinted a bit, examining his fight card for the night.  Then 
groaned.  "I hadn't noticed this.  Great.  Just great.  A big blank 
unknown spot on tonight's schedule.  Just watch, it'll be some pair of 
crazed maniacs and it'll end with our table being destroyed..."

"ALRIGHT!  A big unknown match!" Hiroshi cheered.  "Folks, we've got no 
idea what's coming up next, so everybody hold onto your various 
testicles or whatever things you may have--"

A countdown from five appeared on the KasumiTron.

"Oh, it's just him," Daisuke said, relieved.  "He hasn't been 
particularly impressive since his debut at UltraRage Beta.  I bet we've 
got nothing to--"

At the stroke of zero, a falling grand piano crushed the announcer's 
table, in one massive off-key collision.  The two barely got away fast 
enough not to need to beg Nerv for clone replacements.

Marlo Semaj, quite calm and balanced while standing on top of a piano 
stool, which was perched on the piano itself, raised his mike.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your personal hero, the most charismatic 
entertainer under this roof, is about to RAISE IT!"

The crowd mixed with cheers and boos.  Apparently, Marlo had personally 
invited his own cheering section, as 'Marloholics!' signs were prevalent 
in rows 13-20, section G, as was a large amount of accurately targeted 
thrown popcorn.  Marlo soaked in the few cheers he got and chose to 
address the jeers in his own special way...

"Oh, don't you worry, fellow sports entertainment fans! The 'Furnityre 
Savior' isn't here to waste your time with boring, cliched angles and 
cheap, time consuming promos!" he declared, stepping off the stool, to 
pace on the lid of the piano.  "No no no.  I'm here to speak on a matter 
of BIBLICAL proportions.  And that is because, as you likely know, that 
SHAM, that FARCE, is holding the Gamma Belt right now... the one and 
only Mr. Satan.

"Now... my mommy raised me right, and taught me not to worship graven 
images, not to covet my neighbor's wife, and NOT to listen to Satan!  
So, Mr. Satan comes down here, messing with MY victories, putting me 
through my OWN tables thanks to his little toadies Sofia and Cage... 
talkin' smack about YOUR GOD AND MINE, Controversial Jack... all while 
holding that title in his unholy, greasy little hands!  How does he 
expect a righteous, god-loving fighter like me to IGNORE THIS 
BLASPHEMY?"

Hiroshi peeked out from behind the crowd's security barricade.  "Er, 
wasn't Jack the official Satan for awhile?  Even though he left the 
office to become God later that night..."

"Don't remind him, Hiroshi, he might chuck a bureau at us," Daisuke 
warned.

"Well, Satan, Marlo 3:16 says that I don't need any stupid catch 
phrases to put your ass six thousand feet under!" Marlo continued.  "So!  
Mr. Satan... you get your forked-tailed, afro-dragging, pro-wrestling 
little ass out here so I can put it through a table and take that 
title!!  You won't luck out or bribe me like your other victories!  IF 
YA SMELLL--"

"CHOTTO matte!"

All eyes turned to the entrance ramp where, during the spiel, someone 
had entered.  Two someones.  Ranma Saotome, arms crossed and looking 
rather irritated... and Nabiki Tendo, with the mike.

"Excuse me, Mr. Semaj, but you're forgetting something," Nabiki said.  
"Although the Ranma and Iori 'I Quit' match ended with no victor, Iori 
can't exactly challenge the titleholder in his medical condition, and 
thus the number one contender is in fact my client.  Therefore, I'm 
afraid you can whine and complain all you want, but you are not getting 
a title shot."

Marlo stared Ranma down.. then turned his attention to Nabiki.  "Excuse 
ME, Miss Moneypenny, but Jack took away Ranma's shot when he messed with 
the Lumberjack match.  Now, maybe I don't have my scorecard for Ultra's 
various feuds and angles up to date, but I'm pretty sure of THAT!"

"Perhaps, but the stipulations state..."

"This is going to take awhile," Daisuke said.  "Hey, you know, I can 
play a pretty mean rendition of Chopsticks.  Might be more entertaining 
than--"

The ring erupted in a geyser of small rubber ducks for a moment, and 
Jack manifested his semi-godlike spiky haired self to take some control.

"Guys, guys, you're weighing down the show with chit-chat," he said, 
having the sound dudes turn off Nabiki and Marlo's mikes for now.  
"Let's just distribute axes and settle this like civilized people.  Now.  
Ranma, you screwed up last week.  Marlo, you screwed up during the 
survivor run two weeks back and almost gave Dan the title again!  Didn't 
I hire you to be an unstoppable smackdown laying machine?  Way I see it, 
you're both loser retard freakazoid bumwads."

Needless to say, this didn't make them happy. Ranma had started to walk 
to the ring with purpose, before Nabiki blocked him; Marlo twirled a 
chair to the ready position...

"Of course," Jack added, "You're MY kind of bumwads.  I like aggression 
and pointless devotion to the pursuit of a cheap piece of imitation 
gold!  So, tell you what.  One of you is going to make it up to the fans 
tonight.  Marlo, Ranma, I'm signing you, RIGHT NOW, to a special Power 
Stone Hardcore rules match!  The winner will be the new number one 
contender for the Gamma belt!"

"A what?" Ranma asked, confusion showing through his veneer of cool 
malevolence at the world in general.

Jack clicked on a laser pointer, to indicate his favored PowerPoint 
presentation on the KasumiTron.

"It's very simple," he explained.  "I did a little research into this, 
it's a fighting style from the 19th century.  I drop you two in an 
enclosed space loaded with furnishings, blunt objects and other 
interesting scenery.  One of you gets a red gem stone, one gets a blue.  
Ten seconds later a yellow one appears.  If you hold all three at any 
one time, you're supercharged into a megapowerful ultrabeing asswhomper 
for a little while.  Whoever gets knocked cold first loses, naturally.  
No holds barred, weapons are readily available, share and enjoy!"

"Oh, a hardcore fight," Marlo said, cracking his knuckles, absolutely 
pleased.  "Furniture is my forte.  I accept!"

Ranma nodded once.  "I'm ready," he said simply.

"Hold your horses, boys," Jack said, waggling a finger a'la his arch 
nemesis, Xelloss.  "This is going to take a little time to finalize and 
arrange.  How about... we move it up to the main event?  Plenty of time 
for you and the audience to prepare.  Tonight, Ranma versus Marlo, Power 
Stone rules!  You'd better get ready, boys, you're gonna need balls of 
steel for this one."

"Whoa!!" Hiroshi proclaimed most excitedly, as is his wont.  "Folks, 
we've got... well, it sounds like a pretty crazy sort of match coming up 
later tonight!  Stay tuned, you don't want to miss THIS!"

"So who are we supposed to cheer for here?" Daisuke wondered aloud.  "I 
mean, Ranma's been acting like a jerk and Marlo is the definition of a 
jerk.  Should we be hoping for a double K.O.?  A run-in from Shingo?"

"I'd say... draw, then BOTH of them take on Mr. Satan in a three way 
dance flaming tables dual cage gauntlet elimination match with falls 
counting anywhere loser leaves town!!" Hiroshi booked.  "MAN, I should 
be running this show."

"Hiroshi, if you were running this show, we'd have nothing but evening 
gown matches and special video packages about Rei."

"You say that as if it were a bad thing."

*****

Bean and Tifa were taking it easy in the rec room.  Tifa lay back in a 
beanbag chair and smiled.  Things were starting to go well for her.  
She'd made up with Aerith, she had a great new partner, and...she was 
champion of a great big intergalactic fighting tournament!  Master 
Zangan would be so proud!  Yep, life was pretty good.

Bean nudged her.  "Hey, Tifa, Aerith just passed by.  She looked kinda 
upset."

"Really?"  Tifa jumped up and headed out into the hallway, just in time 
to see the flower girl-turned-angel get ready to duck around the corner.  
"Aerith?"

Aerith turned back for a second.  "Tifa!  I...I'm sorry, I just can't 
talk now."

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing!  Well...No.  I'm really sorry, but I can't tell you!"  With 
that, she hurried away.

"Weird..." Tifa murmured as she walked back in.  "She *was* upset about 
something, but she wouldn't say."

Just as Bean opened his mouth to answer, Shampoo stalked into the room.

"Shampoo find you at last!"

Tifa whirled around.  "What?  Oh, hey, listen, I'm sorry about..."

Shampoo crossed the room in a few quick strides.  Placing one hand on 
Tifa's neck to hold her head in place, she gave her a gentle kiss on the 
cheek, then took a step back.

"Whoa..." Bean began.

Tifa turned beet red.  "Ah, listen, I'm not exactly sure where you got 
that idea, but..." she stammered.

Shampoo whipped out her bonbori, seemingly from thin air.  (Hey, hang 
around with Mousse long enough, and you pick up a few things.)  "Shampoo 
give you Kiss of Death!  Now you die!  Hiyaaah!"

Shampoo swung wildly at Tifa's head.  Tifa ducked and rolled, a 
seriously confused expression on her face.  "Wait just a minute..."  She 
dodged another blow.  "Kiss of Death?"  Jumping out of the way to avoid 
a strike aimed at her legs, she continued.  "What on earth are you 
talking about?"

"Stupid girl stand still!"

"Shampoo!"  Mousse stood in the doorway.  "What are you doing?  It's 
time for our match!"  He raced in and grabbed Bean's arm.  "Come on!"

"You might want to put your glasses on," Bean suggested.

Mousse did so, and looked up.  "Oh," he said, nonplussed.  Then he 
noticed Shampoo attacking Tifa.  "Shampoo!  What's going on here?  Sham-
ugh!"  He had wandered too close to the fight, and received a bonbori in 
the face for his reward.

"Aiyaa!  Stupid Mousse!  Why you no tell me we had fight now?"  Grabbing 
her semi-conscious partner by the collar, she dragged him away.  "This 
not over yet," she informed Tifa.  "I find you later!"

Tifa and Bean blinked audibly as the Jusenkyo Survivors exited the room.

"What just happened here?" Bean asked in confusion.

"I have no idea," Tifa answered.  "But I think we should go find someone 
who does."

*****

Elsewhere, the other team scheduled for the night's Lambda match was 
getting ready.  Well, actually, it was more like one half of the team 
was out looking for the other half.

"Geez," Bart muttered.  "Why do I always have to drag Rico to these 
things?  You'd think he'd be happy, being the Battling Champion or 
whatever they called it."

Through the crowd of people backstage, he caught a glimpse of his 
partner in the distance.  Well, he didn't get that good of a look, but 
it had to be Rico.  How many hulking, green-skinned, flame-haired 
fighters were wandering around this place, after all?

Shoving his way through the crowd, Bart dashed forward to meet him.  
"Hey, Rico!" he called out, but the figure didn't turn.  "Fine, ignore 
me then!"  He reached out and grabbed the fighter's shoulder, causing 
the other guy to turn around.

"Uh-oh."  Bart realized he had made a serious mistake, just before the 
4,000 volts of electricity surged through his body.  "Damn," he coughed, 
and collapsed in a charred heap.  Immediately, two of the medics scooped 
up the unconscious prince and carried him off to the hospital wing.  
They were used to this, after all.

Blanka scratched his head.  He really hadn't meant to do that.  That guy 
just startled him, and he had already been rather nervous about this 
whole thing.  It wasn't every day that one received a personal 
invitation from God himself to come join a fighting tournament.  Usually 
he just heard about the tournaments from...come to think about it, how 
did he always know when the Street Fighter tournaments were taking 
place?  It wasn't like the jungles of Brazil had Internet access or 
anything.  Oh, well; if he thought about it too hard, his head would 
start to hurt, and then he'd get really cranky.  He continued down the 
hallway, hoping that somewhere, someone might be able to tell him what 
he was supposed to be doing here.  Maybe he'd find somebody he knew, 
like Ken or Ryu or one of the other guys.

>From the shadows, a small figure watched Blanka depart.  It had seen the 
mutant shock the human, and it had been impressed.

"Pikaaaa..."

*****

"And now, time for tonight's Lambda match!  Hailing from Joketsuzoku, 
China, the JUSENKYOOOO SURVIVOOOOOORRRSSSS!"  As Hiroshi incited the 
crowd to new levels of excitement, Shampoo and Mousse entered the ring.   
Well, at least Shampoo entered the ring.  Mousse wandered up one of the 
side aisles until the entire crowd chorused, "Put your glasses on!"  
Mousse did so, and quickly joined his partner.

"And from the city of Bledavik in Aveh, and the city of Norturne in 
Kislev..." Hiroshi began, but was interrupted by a messenger from the 
medical ward who handed a slip of paper to Daisuke.

Daisuke unfolded it and read, "Due to an unfortunate accident involving 
Bart and large amounts of electricity, Team Fatima has to withdraw from 
tonight's match."

Suddenly, the lights went out, and a loud female voice called, "We'll 
take it from here!  Prepare for trouble!"

"Jessie, do I have to go out like this?  It's embarrassing!"

"Yes!  It's not *my* fault that was the only other outfit we could find 
in your size!"

"Oh, all right...Make it double!"

Two large spotlights focused on both sides of the arena.  As usual, 
Jessie and James had chosen to make their own introduction.  But this 
time, something was a bit...different.

"What are they wearing?" Hiroshi whispered to Daisuke.

Indeed, Jessie was clad in a Superman outfit, and James was dressed as, 
well, Supergirl.

"Why did the washing machine have to break now?" James whined.  "I feel 
ridiculous.  This skirt is just *so* last-season."

"JAMES!!" Jessie hissed.  "You're ruining it!"

"Oh, sorry."

Jessie put a hand to her forehead.  "Well, the show must go on.  To 
protect the world from devastation!"

"To unite all peoples within our nation!"

"To denounce the evils of truth and love!"

"To extend our reach to the stars above!"

The duo simultaneously raced down the steps and leapt into the ring, 
striking one of their famous poses.

"Jessie!"

"James!"

"Team Rocket blast off at the speed of light!"

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!"

"Meowth!  Dat's right!"  Team Rocket's Pokemon member popped up in the 
middle of the ring.  "But first, I got an important announcement ta 
make!"  He turned to Shampoo.  "Shampoo, since da moment I first saw 
you, I knew...Even if you are human part of da time, your feline beauty 
is simply divine!  I'm madly in love wit' you!  Please say you feel da 
same way!"

Both Team Rocket and the Jusenkyo Survivors (not to mention a large 
portion of the crowd) simultaneously facefaulted.

Shampoo recovered quickly.  "Shampoo no love crazy cat!  Shampoo love 
Ranma, and only Ranma!"

"But Shampoo..." Mousse asked, "What about me?"

"Mousse deaf as well as blind?  You hear what Shampoo say!"

Mousse staggered back as if stabbed in the heart.  It was one thing for 
Shampoo to yell at him in private, or in front of Ranma and the others, 
but to say something like *that* in front of an audience of millions and 
millions of people, with even more watching at home.  Could it be 
that...she actually meant it?  "Shampoo..."

Meowth, however, was not deterred.  "Oh, Shampoo, you'll see!  I'll win 
your heart, no matter what it takes!"  With that, the feline Pokemon 
dashed from the ring, intent on his quest.

"Umm...can we get on with this?" Jessie asked, checking her watch.  "We 
have to rent these costumes by the hour, you know."

"Fine by Shampoo!"  She turned to her stricken partner, bonbori ready.  
"Shampoo go first; is okay?"

Mousse nodded weakly.

][ LAMBDA MATCH
][ MOUSSE/SHAMPOO vs. JESSIE/JAMES
][ FIGHT!!

Jessie pulled out a Pokeball and tossed into the ring.  "Lickitung, go!"

"Amazing!" Hiroshi exclaimed.  "Team Rocket is using a new, never-
before-seen-in-this-arena Pokemon!"

The Pokeball opened, and out came a bright pink creature with a striped 
yellow stomach and an unusually large tongue.  "Licki!"

Shampoo started laughing.  "You send stupid lizard against Amazon Tribe 
warrior?!"

"Lickitung, go for her weapons!" Jessie ordered.

"Tung!"  The Pokemon's tongue shot out almost faster than the eye could 
follow, and snatched one of Shampoo's bonbori right from the startled 
Amazon's hand.  Just as quickly, it withdrew, carrying the hijacked 
weapon straight into its mouth.  There was a loud crunching sound as the 
Lickitung enjoyed its snack.

"Give that back!"  Angrily, Shampoo rushed Lickitung, swinging her 
remaining weapon wildly in an effort to smash the Pokemon over the head.

"Lickitung!"  Once again, the tongue came out, this time catching 
Shampoo in the face.  She lost her balance and sat down in the ring, 
blinking in surprise and disgust.

"Stupid lizard pay for that!"  Shampoo got up and advanced upon the 
Pokemon.

"Tung?"  The Lickitung quickly wrapped its tongue around Shampoo's 
wrist.  The furious Amazon attempted to pull free, but the tongue grew 
tighter, and her wrist was starting to sting.  Finally, she dropped her 
other weapon.  The Pokemon's little beady eyes lit up, and it released 
her wrist and went to devour the dropped bonbori.

"Disgusting thing, take this!  Hiyaa!"  Shampoo kicked the feeding 
Pokemon across to the other side of the ring, near where Mousse was 
standing.  "Mousse, get ready to tag in!"

"Huh?"  Mousse was startled out of his own private thoughts, as Shampoo 
jumped the entire length of the ring, tapping his arm on her way out.

Landing gracefully on her feet, she shoved her partner forward.  "Get 
going!"

Mousse climbed into the ring and was immediately faced by a hungry, 
hurt, angry little lizard-thing.  Normally, he would have had a dozen 
weapons ready to go, but he was still distracted by what Shampoo had 
said earlier...

"Lickitung, get his glasses!" Jessie ordered.

"Licki!"  With an expert swipe, the Pokemon knocked the glasses from 
Mousse's face to the outside of the ring.

"That dirty fighting!" Shampoo objected.

"We're the villains," James replied.  "What else were you expecting?"

"Finish him off!" Jessie told her Pokemon.

"Licki!  Tung!  Tung!"  Lickitung prepared to grab Mousse, but at that 
moment Mousse hurled something from the depths of his sleeves into the 
Pokemon's wide open mouth.

"Incredible!  Mousse has just countered with...a banana cream pie?"  
Hiroshi exclaimed.

Mousse followed up with a turkey and swiss on rye, several bunches of 
grapes, a large pepperoni and anchovy pizza, a chocolate layer cake, a 
pitcher of orange juice, a sushi combination platter, and an order of 
buffalo wings with "four-alarm-emergency" sauce.  Though he couldn't see 
exactly where the Pokemon was, the Lickitung itself ran all over to 
catch the flying food.  Finally, it patted its swollen stomach, belched, 
and fell asleep.

"Jessie!  Hurry up and send out another Pokemon!"

"I can't!  The rest of the Pokemon are in our other outfits!"

"8...9...10!"  The nameless guest referee counted.  The bell rang, and 
he held up Mousse's arm.  "The winners!"

"Could someone please find my glasses?" Mousse asked, sheepishly.

*****

"Darshu, are you sure we're looking in the right place?  It feels like 
we've been walking through this blasted forest for days!"  Naga stalked 
along, pushing tree branches out of her way and feeling generally 
annoyed.

"Look, the radar says the next Dragon Ball should be right around 
here..."

The two entered a clearing, and noticed a strange ball of blue light 
glowing in the center.

"Think it's in there?"  Naga asked.

"Only one way to find out."  Darshu stepped up to the light, and it 
opened into a circular, swirling, but still blue, portal.  "Come on."

Naga hurried to join her partner, as the portal closed behind them.

They shot through a tube of swirling, psychedelic-looking lights that 
changed from blue, to purple, to pink, to blue again.

"Groovy, man."  Darshu was tripping.

They stepped out into a strange place.  The walls and floor were made of 
stone, and the only light came from a streetlamp directly in the middle.  
Under the streetlamp, an old man in gray clothing dozed.  Naga shook him 
by the shoulder.

"Hey, old man, tell us where we are!"

The old man blinked his eyes.  "Visitors?  Hmm...don't seem to get many 
of those nowadays.  Welcome to the End of Time.  You lost?"

"We're looking for the Dragon Balls," Darshu explained.  "According to 
this, there should be one right here."

"Oh, you want Spekkio for that."  He pointed to a wooden door set in the 
north wall.  "Go right in there.  But be careful - he's the Master of 
War."

"I think we can handle that," Darshu remarked as he opened the door.

Inside was an otaku's shrine to Ultra.  Posters, T-shirts, pennants, 
action figures - if it had ever been manufactured anywhere, it was here.  
Seated in front of a big-screen television was a strange creature.  It 
was pink, with a body shaped like a sideways oval, skinny legs, and 
ridiculously long arms.  As it turned to face the visitors, its mop of 
purple hair stood straight up, and its eyes opened wide.

"Wow!  I don't believe it!  Dark Schnieder and Naga the White Serpent!  
Right here!  Man, I love you guys!"  The creature ran up and shook both 
their hands.

"Aah...what exactly are you?" Naga asked.

"I'm Spekkio!" the creature replied.  "I'm the Master of War, so..." he 
indicated his surroundings, "This kind of thing is my bag, baby!  Yeah!"

"We're here for..." Darshu began.

"I know.  The Dragon Ball," Spekkio finished.  "That really sucks about 
Lina.  I hope somebody gets the Orochi good for that.  Heck, I'd do it, 
but, well, I have my duties here."

Naga and Darshu exchanged glances.  How could a weird pink thing be the 
'Master of War', *and* be confident enough to even think about 
challenging the Orochi?

"Well, anyway," Spekkio continued, "I'll give it to you, on two 
conditions."

"And they are?"  Naga asked suspiciously.

"One, you stay here and watch the rest of today's show with me.  Two," 
He whipped out a brand-new Unlimited Desire poster.  "You autograph 
this.  And when you get Lina back, I'd like her to sign it, too."

Naga and Darshu grinned.  They could get to like this guy.

*****

"Welcome back, Ultra fans!  And now, for tonight's Gamma match.  First, 
hailing from the New Orleans, the ragin' Cajun, GAAAAAMBIIIIT!"

Gambit entered the ring to the sounds of "Born on the Bayou."  He blew a 
few kisses to some of the ladies in the audience, then struck a pose, 
staff in one hand, cards in the other.

"And from Japan, the former apprentice to the Anything-Goes School of 
Martial Arts, SHINGOOOO YABUKIIII!"

The spotlight shone.  Shingo's theme music, "Lost in Space," thundered 
over the sound system.  But there was no sign of the would-be apprentice 
martial artist.

"We seem to be having difficulties finding people tonight," Daisuke 
remarked off-handedly.

Suddenly, one of the Orochi's Black Disk of Death(tm) portals formed in 
the arena.  And out stepped...

*****

"Sakura?!" Ryu and Ken chorused, watching the match from the Spirit of 
Shotokan's big screen TV.

*****

A large portion of the male audience needed to reach for their Kleenex.  
Once again, Sakura was clad in the black leather fuku, but it didn't 
stop there.  Her entire outfit had changed: black tennis shoes, black 
gloves, and even a black Ryu-style headband.

"Sakura?  Chere, what are you doin' here?" Gambit asked.

"The one once known as Sakura Kusanago exists no longer," Sakura stated 
icily.  "I am the Orochi's chosen warrior, his bringer of doom.  
Surrender now, before I end your pathetic existence."

Gambit shook his head, and raised his staff into a battle stance.  
"Guess I have no choice, then.  But Gambit won' go easy on you."

Sakura smiled.  "Good.  That's just the way I like it."

][ GAMMA MATCH
][ GAMBIT vs. SAKURA
][ FIGHT!!

The powers of darkness had certainly given Sakura the upper hand in this 
match.  For one thing, she no longer was bound by Honorable Shotokan Law 
#2, the one specifying that all attack names had to be yelled out as 
their respective attacks were being performed.  Therefore, she was able 
to immediately rush in with a Shouoken that Gambit barely had time to 
block.

For a second thing, she now seemed to be gifted with near-blinding 
speed.  After the blocked Shouoken, she immediately dropped and swept 
Gambit's feet out from under him.  The Cajun lost his balance, and 
Sakura took the opportunity to introduce him to the mat.

"What a move!" Hiroshi exclaimed.  "Gambit can't seem to even keep up 
with her!"

Sakura backed off for a second, allowing her victim to regain his 
footing.

"Chere, why?" Gambit asked her, hoping that perhaps she would at least 
be distracted by his question long enough for him to get in close and...

...no such luck, as she ignored him and hurled a Hadoken his way.  He 
quickly countered with several kinetically-charged cards.  The two met 
in the usual projectile-nulling manner.

Gambit decided that if he were going to get in close, now was the time.   
Rushing forward, he swung his staff in an overhead arc...

...only to meet the air, as Sakura had jumped over and behind him in one 
fluid motion.  He started to turn, but Sakura launched him into the air 
with a vicious Shouoken to the side.

Gambit crashed back onto the mat.  Slowly picking himself up, he watched 
Sakura.  Then the realization hit him: she was toying with him!  Her 
expression was one of complete boredom; she could be doing her laundry 
for all that it mattered.

That's when he decided that it was time to pull out all the stops.  He 
had to stop thinking of her as Sakura, a girl he knew and liked, and 
start thinking of her along the same lines as those wackos Shermie and 
Yashiro.  Though he hated to do this to her...

He reached into his coat pockets and pulled out all of his decks.  
"ROYAL FLUSH!" he yelled, tossing card after card at Sakura, and 
watching them impact, and then seeing her fall slowly to the mat.

Through the fading light of the expended energy, he noted her stirring.  
She was getting up!  But that was impossible!  Stunned, he could only 
watch as she stared at him with an expression of pure malice.  Then, she 
struck.

He didn't see her coming, just a blur of light.  Then, everything went 
dark, as Sakura executed the trademark Shotokaner-of-evil-tendencies 
finishing move upon him.  This one, instead of leaving behind the kanji 
for "god," or "death," or "mass unpleasantness," ended in a shower of 
black cherry blossoms.  As usual, Gambit's unconscious form lay on the 
mat.

"The winner!" the extremely frightened-looking guest referee exclaimed, 
not even attempting to raise Sakura's arm in victory.  (Could you blame 
him for not wanting to get close to her?)  "Sakura!"

Sakura looked scornfully at Gambit.  "Heh.  Fool."  She then turned to 
face the audience.  "Let this be a lesson to all who even think about 
challenging the Orochi!  You will all meet your doom!"  With that, she 
opened another dark portal, and disappeared.

"What a turnaround, ladies and gentlemen!" Hiroshi enthused.  "Sakura, 
now a warrior of the evil forces?  How will this affect her former 
teammates?  What will the Orochi Resistance Organization have to say 
about this?  Will the price of wheat stocks plummet?  Oh, the humanity!"

Daisuke wrested the microphone away from his co-announcer.  "We'll be 
right back, after these messages."

*****

Bean and Tifa had figured that Ranma had gone somewhere to prepare for
his upcoming Hardcore match.  What they hadn't counted on was having 
to deal with his new manager.

"If you want to see Ranma, you're going to have to make an appointment," 
Nabiki stated firmly.  "We're on a tight schedule here."

"Look, this is very important!" Tifa replied.  "I have to talk with him 
right now!  I *know* he can't possibly be doing anything big at the 
moment; can't you let us see him?"

Nabiki fixed her with a hard stare.  "I really hate making exceptions to 
my policies, but, all right."  Bean and Tifa started to step forward, 
but she put out a hand to stop them.  "However, since you don't have an 
appointment, you will need to pay a fee."

Bean started to object, but Tifa just shook her head.  "All right," she 
agreed.  "But I don't have any yen on me, just gil."

Nabiki smiled.  "That isn't a problem."  She pulled out a small book and 
handed it to them.  "Currency exchange table."

Tifa flipped past the entries for bits, GP, and gella, before finding 
the current yen-gil exchange rate.  (Had she kept going, she would also 
have found the gold, goth, rupee, zenny, and any other RPG-world 
currency conversion rates as well.)  Doing a quick calculation, she came 
up with the appropriate amount and tossed it to Nabiki.

Nabiki waved them forward.  "Go right in."

Ranma was warming up for his match, stretching, throwing punches in the 
air, mumbling death threats against Marlo, the usual sort of thing.  
Tifa cleared her throat to get his attention.

Ranma turned.  "Yeah?"

"What do you know about the Amazon Kiss of Death?" Tifa asked.

Ranma looked puzzled for a second.  "Why would you...oh, yeah, you beat 
*Shampoo*."  He snorted.  "Boy, am I glad I'm not in your shoes."

"Just answer the question."

"Okay.  Well, the woman warriors of Shampoo's tribe have these really 
weird laws dealing with what happens when one of them gets defeated by 
an outsider.  If it's a man, she has to marry him."

"Oh, so that's why she's after you," Bean realized.

Ranma seemed mildly annoyed at the interruption, but continued.  "If 
it's a woman, she has to give her the Kiss of Death, and then kill her."

Tifa took a step back.  "*Kill* me?!  How long does this last?"

Ranma shrugged.  "Forever, I guess.  And trust me, she'll track you down 
to the ends of the earth."

"Forever?" Tifa repeated weakly.  "You mean that I'm going to have a 
crazed Amazon following me around, trying to kill me, for the rest of my 
life?!"

"Yep.  Sucks to be you, huh?"

"I...don't...believe...this," she answered, torn between strangling 
Ranma and finding a good place to hide.

Bean put a hand on her shoulder.  "Come on, let's go."

The two headed back towards the rec room, Bean having to practically 
drag his partner along.  Tifa kept shaking her head.

When they reach their destination, Bean helped Tifa onto a beanbag, then 
sprawled on the couch.

"Tifa, I...that is, well...look, we're partners, right?  And friends, 
too.  If that crazy Shampoo girl comes back, she'll have to get through 
me first!  I can be like your bodyguard..."  His voice trailed off as he 
realized Tifa wasn't paying attention to him anymore.  He followed her 
gaze to the TV screen, where Hiroshi was announcing that in addition to 
the big Ranma/Marlo match, Controversial Jack Himself was having so much 
fun that he had prepared a special Omega GRUDGE match for everybody.  It 
wouldn't count in the standings, but Jack believed that it would be nice 
and exciting.  And then he announced who the two fighters were.

Tifa looked like the wind had been knocked out of her.  Then she 
whispered, "No.  He can't..."

*****

In the days of the Old Republic, it had been a museum dedicated to the 
greatness of the Jedi.  Wing after wing had been filled with holograms 
depicting the deeds of the most famous Jedi Knights and Masters, and 
other artifacts dealing with their legends: their clothes, medallions 
struck to commemorate their elevation to their ranks, and even, on 
occasion, their old lightsabers.

When the Emperor came to power, all of that changed.  The exhibits were 
destroyed, each one desecrated as the Emperor hunted down more and more 
of the Jedi.  Until, finally, neither Jedi nor museum remained.  Then it 
was sealed away, and would be forgotten about until some time in the 
future, when a fledgling New Republic would rediscover its secrets and a 
man with Jedi potential would find its last hidden treasure.

Which makes it all the more impressive that they managed to get the 
cameras and the dramatic lighting in there.

Sephiroth stepped from his portal and regarded the scene of forgotten, 
disgraced history before him.  "Once," he remarked, "these people were 
heroes, legends.  Now, they are no more than faded memories.  Such is 
all life - doomed eventually to nothingness.  And I shall be the one to 
bring it to that nothingness."

Another portal opened at the opposite end of the hallway, releasing a 
young woman clad in a pink dress, red jacket, and plain boots, carrying 
a simple staff.  Her brown hair streamed loose behind her as she hovered 
slightly above the ground, on white angel wings.

Sephiroth, was he capable of showing any sign of emotion, would have 
looked very surprised at that moment.  HER.  What should have been 
impossible was now coming to pass.

The two stared at each other in silence, until Sephiroth finally gave in 
and spoke.  "I suppose you have come to take vengeance for what I did."

Aerith shook her head slowly, sadly.  "No.  It is not in an angel's 
nature to seek vengeance.  Only peace.  And so, Sephiroth, I forgive 
you.  I forgive you for what you have done to me."  She frowned.  
"However, the pain that you caused my mother, my friends...all the 
innocent people killed in your mad lust for power...that I cannot 
forgive!"  She turned something on her staff, and a blade shot out from 
the end, effectively transforming it into a sort of glaive.

"We fight, then," Sephiroth stated simply.  With that, he drew the 
Masamune, and rushed toward her.

Sword met glaive with a resounding clash.  Somewhere, the sound crew put 
on a recording of "Duel of the Fates."

It should have been impossible for a simple flower girl, even if she did 
grow up in the slums, to be able to duel a master swordsman, yet somehow 
Aerith was holding her own.  Every slash was blocked, every thrust 
parried.  Neither combatant had resorted to using magic yet, although 
the spells at their disposal were varied and powerful.  It was simply a 
contest of skill and strength.

Sephiroth managed to get his sword past Aerith's glaive, and slashed a 
shallow gash on her arm.  Blood trickled down onto her hand.  Neither 
seemed to take any notice, and the fight continued.

Sephiroth was, well, not worried, since worry was an emotion he just 
couldn't experience, but somewhat disturbed.  How could this girl be 
fighting him in this manner?  Where had she gained her skills?  It was 
time to up the stakes a little...

Sephiroth raised his hand.  "Blind," he declared, and Aerith's head was 
engulfed in darkness.  He advanced, swinging his blade expertly.  Though 
she managed a few lucky blocks, several of Sephiroth's blows reached 
their marks.  Aerith now was wounded on both arms, one leg, and in the 
side.  She was beginning to tire.

"Esuna," Aerith answered, dispelling the darkness.  She had noticed her 
current state, and figured that she couldn't hold out in this manner 
much longer.  Taking a moment to consider strategy, she flew upwards, 
towards the high arched ceiling.

Sephiroth followed.  Here, the two combatants were no longer limited by 
such a mundane thing as the ground.  They dodged and swung in an 
intricate pattern, a beautiful aerial dance.

Aerith couldn't keep it up much longer.  It was time for her last 
resort.  She rushed toward Sephiroth and struck out with her glaive.  He 
parried, but the momentum from the blow sent him hurtling towards the 
ground.  He landed on his knees.

"Hold!" Aerith cast a spell to paralyze him.  Sephiroth watched, utterly 
helpless, as Aerith descended from above, an avenging angel, blade 
pointed towards his chest...exactly as it had happened so long ago in 
the City of the Ancients, only the situation was now the opposite.

At the last moment, Aerith reversed her strike, and dealt Sephiroth a 
blow to the head with the blunt end.  Sephiroth fell forward, 
unconscious.

Aerith considered him for a moment, with a sad expression on her face.  
"So much wasted," she murmured, before returning to heaven, where she 
was going to continue those self-defense lessons with Gabriel.  Such a 
nice man, really.

*****

While this epic conflict was taking place, a long figure walked the 
halls of the Ultradome.  Gambit was angry.  Gambit was in pain.  Gambit 
was...grabbed by the arm and yanked into an empty storeroom.

"What the..." as the lights went on and he discovered who he was facing.  
"Sakura?"  But the schoolgirl-turned-Orochi-warrior was dressed in her 
normal outfit, and she looked very apologetic.

"Gambit, I'm probably the last person you want to see after what 
happened earlier, but please let me explain!" Sakura pleaded.  "I know 
this must seem like some sort of trap, but you have to trust me!  I 
haven't been taken over by the Orochi; I was just pretending earlier."

"Pretending?" Gambit asked skeptically.

"I know it sounds really far-fetched, but...the Orochi tried to turn me.  
He couldn't do it.  David stopped him!"

"But David *is* the Orochi now, non?"

"That's what the Orochi said, that David's soul was gone or something 
like that.  Some part of him has to still be there, though.  Just as the 
Orochi was about to fill me with dark power or whatever the heck it was 
supposed to be, he stopped and started to clutch his head.  Then he 
started muttering something; I couldn't make out what he was saying but 
it almost sounded like an argument.  Then he went into some sort of 
hyperspasms."

Gambit shook his head.  "Sounds mighty fishy to me."

"I had to think fast.  I mean, once he recovered, he was going to try 
again, right?  So I figured that, well, I'd pretend that it worked.  
What did I have to lose?  So the Orochi got up, and I used my best 
ominous tone of voice, and called him lord and master and everything, 
and it worked!  He actually fell for it!  I don't think he even realized 
that he had that major head problem!  So then he ordered me to take out 
Shingo, which I did - you know, I have to go an apologize to him - and 
then fight his opponent.  I didn't really want to fight you, honestly, 
but I didn't really have a choice.  I might have slipped something past 
him once, but the Orochi would really have gotten suspicious if I messed 
up in the ring."  

Gambit was about to say something, but Sakura took a deep breath and 
continued.  "Anyway, I'm really sorry for beating you up earlier.  I 
need you to tell Ryu-sama and everyone what's going on."  She smiled.  
"Think of me like a double agent.  I'll let you know what the Orochi and 
his goons are up to."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Gambit wasn't born yesterday, you know.  If you 
aren't working for the forces of evil, how come you were able to use all 
those moves?"

"Ah, um, well, you see...a while ago, I was controlled by the forces of 
evil."  At the sight of Gambit putting up his staff, she waved her hands 
to deter him.  "Different evil!  Different evil!  And I got cured from 
that.  But I still remembered how to do some of the stuff!"   (Never 
thought I'd actually be grateful to Akuma, of all people,) she thought.

Frowning, Gambit replied, "I still don't think I can trust you."

"I knew you'd have problems with that.  Okay, take this."  She handed 
Gambit a large, oval-shaped piece of polished obsidian.  "I don't know 
what it is, but I think it's pretty important.  At least, since there 
were a bunch of big scary monsters guarding it, but they let me in since 
they thought I was on their side now, and..."  She glanced at her watch.  
"Oh no!  I'm late for the big evil plotting and planning meeting!  See 
you later!"  She dashed out of the room, leaving a very confused Gambit 
behind.

He sighed.  "Things just keep gettin' more complicated around here."  He 
glanced in the direction Sakura had run off.  "But if you *are* telling 
the truth, you play a dangerous game, cherie.  Bonne chance."

*****

"Wow!  That was even more spectacular than promised!"  Hiroshi enthused.  
"Two mortal enemies duking it out, with a near-total-reverse of the 
previous outcome!  If that had been any more exciting, I'm not sure what 
I would have done!"

"Probably come up with even more hyperbole in an attempt to describe 
it," Daisuke responded.

"Work with me here, Daisuke!  Anyway, it's almost time for the big 
event..."

Suddenly, the lights went out.  Again.  The audience murmured in 
surprise.  From the ring came a bolt of lightning, then several more, 
until a lightning storm to rival nature at her most furious was taking 
place in the center of the Ultradome.  And from the center of the storm 
stepped two figures...

"I don't believe this!" Hiroshi exclaimed.  "It's Pikachu 
and...Blanka?!"

Pikachu hopped onto Blanka's shoulders and addressed the crowd.  "Pika 
pika pi!  Pika chu pi!  Pika kachu kapi chu pika!  Pikachu!"

Daisuke sweatdropped.  "Um, could we get a translator here?"

Meowth stepped into the booth.  "Pikachu says dat he and the big green 
guy there are teamin' up!  They're gonna enter the Lambda league!"

A startled exclamation rose up from the crowd, followed by rousing 
cheers.

"What a shocking development!" Hiroshi cried, before being whacked by 
Daisuke for such a terrible pun.  "Does this mean that Pikachu intends 
on challenging his former trainer in the ring?"

*****

Backstage, Ash watched the declaration open-mouthed.  "Pikachu..." he 
said sadly.

"Ash...maybe Pikachu's doing this because he wants some respect," Misty 
said.  "He got beaten pretty badly by Team Rocket last time.  I think 
he's figured out that he really can't do this on his own."

"But why didn't he come back to us?"

"Pikachu does have his pride."  And he's as stubborn as his trainer is, 
she refrained from adding.  "I'll bet he didn't want to seem like he was 
crawling back to us in disgrace.  Let him have a few battles.  Once he's 
got his confidence back, maybe then you'll be able to talk to him."  Or 
maybe his ego will get out of control again, and we'll be back where we 
started.

"But what if I have to fight him before that happens?  I don't want to 
do that, Misty.  He's my best friend!"

"Oh, Ash..."

*****

"Pika PIKA?!!" Pikachu snapped.

Jack mostly ignored the Pokemon, busy on the phone.  "Yeah, that's 
right.  One fight.  Your place.  It's okay, right?  You'll ref?  Hold on 
one second."  He cupped the phone.  "We've got the main event, okay?  
You and the Hulk there are going to have to have your first fight 
another time.  Don't worry... I'll book you a good one.  Deal?"

"Pika," Pikachu grumped, kicking a nearby empty soda can (since there's 
always one around when you need one).  He waved to signal Blanka, who 
was busy scratching himself in public, and left the ring.

"...right.  Okay.  Be there in two minutes."  Jack hung up the phone, 
then gave a sharp whistle.  "It's on!"

"Folks, we promised it awhile back, and now, it's time to deliver!" 
Hiroshi declared.  "Ranma Saotome vs. Marlo Semaj!  Who will be the 
number one contender for the Gamma belt?  Here we go!!"

*****

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, Jar Jar Binks lived.  
Fortunately the fight would take place nowhere near him, and the world 
could breathe easier as a result.

The fight would, in fact, take place in a Chinese restaurant in the 
province of Ton-An.  It's not a conventional fighting arena, but let's 
examine some of the properties most restaurants, and this one in 
particular, hold which would be of multifold benefit to those interested:

A) Chairs
B) Tables
C) More chairs
D) Larger tables
E) Various fixtures, rafters, support poles, and steps.

Kamiversial Jack appealed the laws of physics to a higher court (New 
Jersey state district attorney) and a portal disgorged Ranma and Marlo, 
in opposite corners of the restaurant.  A small gemstone appeared in 
front of each; red for Ranma, blue for Marlo.  They quickly pocketed 
them.

Ranma, who was expecting some stupid gimmick, was given pause; touching 
the gem DID make him feel stronger.  Faster.  More aggressive.  Take 
over the world style.  A third of it, at least.  He cracked his 
knuckles, appreciating the situation...

"Of course," Jack said, since he was already there, being able to be in 
two places at the same time when he had to be for convenience sake, 
"You're going to need a special guest referee.  I've arranged for a 
fighter familiar with Power Stone rules to help.  Ladies and Gentlemen, 
you have no idea who he is and I'm not going to introduce him beyond a 
name so nyah nyah deal with it, Wangtang! "

"Yo!" a young pigtailed martial artist with a Chinese shirt who was not 
Ranma said (while Jack ran for the hills).  "Okay, try not to trash my 
grandfather's restaurant much, and now, FIGHT!"

"Wow, Ranma, NERV must've gotten a DNA sample from your Victoria's 
Secret catalogue!" Marlo joked before eating a thrown chair.

"Shaddup," Ranma growled. He sprang into the air, grabbing a rafter -- 
and flipping off it for a flying kick, which Marlo realized wouldn't be 
wise to stand in the way of.  A few quick dodges later and the two were 
off and running.

Inexplicably, a bonus treasure chest dropped out of the sky in front of 
them.  Normally, this is in defiance of all known theories on 
conservation of mass and entropy, but not one to kick a gift horse in 
the mouth, Marlo flung the lid open, jumping up and over one of Ranma's 
kicks, and pulled out what was inside...

Usually you only see guns like that mounted on helicopters.  The barrel 
as about as long as Kate Moss and the ammo weighed as much as Mike 
Tyson, but Marlo hefted it easily, leveling the spinning barrel at 
Ranma.

"Hasta la vista, baby!" he gimmicked, before pulling the trigger.

Ranma blurred, to get up and out of the way before the hail of Mass 
Destruction tore up most of the non-smoking section of the restaurant.

Enjoying himself tremendously, also taking a few potshots at the 
referee (who knew better, and had taken cover), Marlo did what any 
crazed hormonal teenage American boy with social maladjustments and a 
fixation on weapons and asskicking would do; he had fun.  So much so 
that he didn't notice he was out of ammo until Ranma had chucked a 
beckoning cat statue at him.

Marlo went flying into a table for five -- and his blue Power Stone 
went in the opposite direction.

Somersaulting, Ranma plucked the stone from midair -- glowing, flashing 
with power once.  He landed on a table, and flexed...

One shot would end this.

"HIRYUU.. SHOTEN.. HA!" Ranma shouted, flaring with the energy, 
focusing it -- the blast rotated sideways, to funnel towards Marlo.  
Marlo pulled something from the reserves but was engulfed in the light 
without much chance of escape...

When the smoke cleared, there were plenty of twisted, melted chairs and 
tables... and a pristine, shining Maytag washer/dryer.  The kind that 
lead to bored and lonely repairmen.  Marlo poked his head up.

"Wow, the advertising copy was right," he said, impressed.  He gave the 
washer a hearty kick, sending it tumbling across the floor, and 
impacting the surprised Ranma square in the chest--

Marlo vaulted off a support pillar, and grabbed his blue gem back from 
the falling Ranma.  One quick bounce off the washer, which had rattled 
to a halt, and an overhead steel folding chair strike earned him the red 
gem.

And, being an overconfident little snot, he took this moment to taunt.  
He twirled a linen cabinet in one hand.. glancing askew at the yellow 
gem, the last one, which had just beamed into existence.

"Two down, one to go!" he mocked.  "Holy Jack, Saotome, I thought you 
were an Anything Goes Martial Artist!  Can't you do any better than 
this!?  I'm going to have to--"

Ranma leaned against a wall nonchalantly, tossing the yellow gem up and 
down in one hand, which he had snatched away while Marlo was busy 
pontificating.

"I'm not going to lose my title shot," Ranma said, simply.  "Never 
again.  Come get me."

The referee skidded to a halt, just in time to see the two take off 
again; Marlo and Ranma dashing at each other, kicking over everything in 
their path, knocking chairs across the polished wooden floor at each 
other, vaulting and dodging to the point where they collided --

And hung in the air, in mid pose, while the camera rotated around them.

*****

Jack took three million out of his pocket money and handed it over to 
the special effects team.

"Ah, how I love Bullet Time(tm)," he sighed, wistfully.  "Being god 
kicks much ass."

*****

Both fighters dropped to the ground after a melee of punches, hat 
racks, kicks, bookends and one kitchen sink, which had gone flying out a 
window and, by some unusual karmic law, hit someone on the street who 
was too poor to afford a sink of their own.

Marlo span a few times in the air, and landed back on his feet...

Only to see Ranma had all three gems in one hand.

"...HEY!  You pickpocketed me, you little fink!" Marlo protested.  
"Fight like the half of a man you are!"

The three gems linked by tiny arcs of white lightning, and in a 
flash...

Ranma was technically one and a half the man he was.  Muscles on 
muscles, glowing yellow hair, one MEAN-ASS stare, and building up a 
charge of energy in his hands that would make the Electric Company go 
back to doing rhymes about grammar.

Marlo's jaw sagged.  "Damn," he said, realizing what this meant, and 
tried to go for the Maytag Block again-- too late.

The first blast pinned him to the wall; the flurry of superpowered 
Tenshin Amaguriken punches pushed him a full foot into the concrete side 
of the building, until he collapsed in a little maimed heap, hanging 
onto consciousness by a thread.

Well, Marlo thought, at least I have clean underwear on.

Ranma started to charge a ball of ki the size of the Epcot Center.

HAD clean underwear, Marlo thought.

The pigtailed referee who was definitely NOT as stacked as Ranma was at 
the moment tried to intervene, but Ranma shoved him out of the way, and 
stared down...

Super Saotome stared down at his opponent, the roadblock between him 
and what he DESERVED, with no pity, at the broken, messed up little 
twisted ball of psycho teenager who had pretty much no shot at fighting 
back now and would probably be crisped by the attack and...

He hesitated.

The ki charge dispersed, but in the shockwave, so did the gems.  Red 
and Blue arced in the air, as Ranma lost control in that moment, and by 
pure random chance, the two Power Stones landed PERFECTLY in Marlo's 
pocket...

Marlo, who sat up immediately, revived.  He wasted no time, DASHING to 
the other side of the room, while Ranma recovered and made a beeline for 
him, but it was too late -- the Yellow gem had already popped on the 
scene, and Marlo snatched it up immediately.  When opportunity knocks, 
be armed with copies of the Watchtower and a shotgun, that's Marlo's 
philosophy...

One short transformation sequence later...

The Furnityre Savior, a huge Marlo made entirely of wood and joinery, 
stomped a gigantic imitation oak sneaker on the ground, stopping Ranma's 
progress.

Slip-sliding to a halt, spinning 180', Ranma made like the last Furby 
in the store and tried to hide, but it was too late.  Clocks, chairs, 
desks, tables, bureaus, ovens, freezers, pie safes, entire closets and 
all manners of knick-knacks you set above your fireplace and promptly 
forget about for years came at him in a whirling tornado of furniture.  
A lot he dodged.  A lot he didn't.  But the final blow was too much.

Marlo had whacked him over the head with a wooden Indian who vaguely 
resembled Bob Villa.

Ranma went down like the descent of man.

The ref, Wangtang, flipped over and poked through the wreckage, 
eventually finding Ranma.  He raised Ranma's arm, and let go.  It 
dropped.

"The victory goes to Marlo," he declared.

Somewhere far away, a small section of Marloholics in the crowd cheered 
like the Allied forces had just triumphed on the western front, and were 
immediately pelted with foam fingers and popcorn.

Marlo powered down, and took this opportunity as he normally did to 
gloat.  He found the hovering UltraCam, and gestured to it.

"SATAN!" he declared.  "G vs. E, baby!  Marlo's comin' for your ass 
NEXT WEEK!"

Before Ranma could properly climb out of the wreckage Marlo quickly 
dove into the portal Jack had opened for him and ran to hide somewhere 
in the Ultradome.  Nabiki passed him on the way out... looking very 
disappointed.

Wangtang offered Ranma a hand.  Ranma stared at it, not comprehending, 
so the ref pulled him out.  It was a lot like looking into a mirror, 
without any superenhanced muscles blocking out the sun.

"You held back," Wangtang noted.  "When he was defenseless, you held 
back even though you could have won."

"Whad're you talkin' about," Ranma grumbled, rubbing his pounding head.  
"Ranma doesn't hold anything back.  The idiot got lucky."

"Suit yourself," the boy said, backing off.  "But you could probably be 
a lot more powerful than you are now, stones or not.  I can sense it in 
you.  I'm sure you'll find that true strength one day--"

"Yeah, beat it," Ranma said, waving him off, and walking over to 
Nabiki.  "Look, Beek, he just got lucky, and--"

"Stow it, Saotome," Nabiki barked.  "I pulled all the strings to get 
you a shot, and you blew it.  We're going to have to work back up from 
square one now.  More training, and more fights to prove you're in the 
competition.  Got it?"

"I got it, I got it--"

"And no mercy," Nabiki added.  "You got this far by taking every 
opportunity you could, so keep it up, or you won't get back there.  Got 
it?  Now let's get you to that commercial photo shoot for motor oil.  
Time is money, Saotome."

Ranma let Nabiki lead him on.  His head was spinning too much to really 
ponder the merchandising.  And it wasn't from the attack.

*****

Was Hiroshi excited?  Is grass green?  Does a bear pee in the woods?

"You heard it here first, folks!" he declared.  "Marlo, against all 
odds on the favored Ranma, has won a chance at Mr. Satan, the Gamma 
champion, NEXT WEEK on Ultra!  What a night that's going to be!  Hey, 
Daisuke, do you think I could get some of those plastic jewels?  It'd be 
really helpful next time, um, Wolverine or Lilith come after me."

"I don't think they're sold in stores, Hiroshi.  And frankly, I didn't 
need that mental image of Mecha-Hiroshi, thank you very much. "

"Well, *now* that about wraps up this week's show," Hiroshi continued, 
looking around to make sure no new fighters, gods, mysterious wizards, 
or any other strange beings were going to pull anything.  "From the 
Ultradome, good night everybody!"

*****

Spekkio, Master of War and Self-Appointed Ultra's Biggest Fan, was 
pouting.

"Are you *sure* you guys have to go?" he asked Naga and Darshu, who were 
packing up after an hour-long junk food and fight-watching bonanza.

"Yeah, sorry," Darshu replied, handing the third Dragon Ball to Naga, 
who put it wherever she was putting the rest of their stuff.  Darshu 
really meant it, too.  He hadn't had that much fun since...since...well, 
it had been a while.

"Well, come back anytime!  Bring your friends; I'd love to meet 'em.  
Heck, bring your enemies; I'd love to beat them up!"  Spekkio waved 
enthusiastically as the two left.  He then muttered something about 
"...wonder if Masa and Mune know about that Sephiroth guy's sword.  
Maybe I should give them the name of a good lawyer..."

"He was bit strange," Naga remarked as they exited Spekkio's chambers, 
"but he had a very well-stocked refrigerator."

The old man was still standing under that streetlamp.  He turned to look 
at the duo.  "You found what you were searching for?" he asked.

Darshu nodded.

"There might be another way, you know.  If, for whatever reason, your 
quest fails, you may be able to use this."  The old man held out what 
looked like a stone egg.

Naga stared at it.  "What exactly is that?"

"A Chrono Trigger.  Of course, in order for it to work, you'd also need 
a life-size replica of the person you're trying to revive..."

Naga shuddered at the thought of a life-size Lina doll.  "Ah, no thanks.  
By the way, how exactly did you know what we were planning to use the 
Dragon Balls for?"

"Who do you think Spekkio blabbers incessantly about his favorite 
television program to?  And by the way, do you know how boring it is to 
stand under the same dull streetlamp for all eternity?  You'd think the 
End of Time would be some great majestic crystal palace or something, 
but no..."

If Darshu were the sweatdropping type, he would have done so just then.  
"I believe our portal just opened, so we'll be on our way now..."  He 
and Naga jumped through, just as the old man was getting to the "kids 
these millennia, they have no respect for their elders" part of his 
speech.

*****

Controversial Jack was in hysterics.  Sure, he'd invited the big green 
guy, but he never expected that silly neon-yellow mouse to team up with 
him.  This was chaotic!  This was controversial!  This was gonna be 
great!

Now, if only he could get his underlings to find that godhead.  Then 
that stupid wizard would pay!

"SQUEAK!"

"Oh, a most excellent suggestion, Mr. Duck!  Most excellent indeed..."  
He rubbed his hands together.  Oh, yes, things were getting very 
interesting now.

-=-

][ ULTRA EPISODE 24 RESULTS RECAP :

][ MAI sends BROCK on an all-expenses-paid trip to the Ultra medical 
ward
][ TIFA receives the KISS OF DEATH from SHAMPOO
][ TEAM FATIMA misses yet another match, to no one's surprise
][ SHAMPOO gains another unwanted suitor
][ MOUSSE/SHAMPOO def. JESSIE/JAMES, now at 3W/3L
][ NAGA and DARSHU meet their #1 fan
][ SAKURA turns to the DARK SIDE...or does she?
][ SAKURA def. GAMBIT, now at 5W/1L
][ AERITH def. SEPHIROTH, no change in standings
][ ASH undergoes much MENTAL ANGUISH
][ MARLO def. RANMA in the special POWER STONE match, now at 2W/0L
][ New fighter introduced: Blanka
][ BLANKA/PIKACHU join Lambda Division

Next scheduled author: Rift

-=-

Author's Notes:
Wow!  That was an absolute blast to write.  I had so much fun doing it!  
I hope the battle scenes aren't too bland, but it seems that whenever I 
write fight sequences the action is more implied than actually shown.  I 
also hope that I kept a fairly good balance between new plotlines and 
old.

Okay, now for the big thank you list:

First of all, huge huge thanks Twoflower, for accepting me into the 
queue, for the very nifty Marlo fight scenes, and for the most excellent 
idea of making Sakura into a double agent pretending to be evil rather 
than just another boring ol' evil pawn.

I'd like to thank my group of prereaders, especially Geoff Tebbits, 
Jesse Ellman, Rift, and Lurker.

Thanks to everyone on the board who suggested a location for the Omega 
match.  Sorry if I went a little overboard.  As it turned out, I ended 
up using Lawrence Chu's suggestion of Coruscant, though a little 
changed.  The Jedi Museum is actually taken from Michael Stackpole's X-
Wing novels (I believe it's mentioned in novel #3, The Krytos Trap.)  
Some of the other suggested locations will probably end up being used 
in this omake I'm thinking about.

You'll be hearing more from me in the future (hey!  why'd you throw that 
at me?) as I've signed up for Furniture Warriors, Do-Gooders, and Final 
Fantasy: Fated.  What can I say; Impro's very, very addictive!  Anyhow, 
look for more fun stuff in the future. </shameless plugging>

C&C are very welcome!

Kate (kmallo1@gl.umbc.edu)