-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
Bwahahahaha! You thought you could stop us, but you can't!
There's is no escaping the wrath which is our tasteless fic!
(Dear readers,
Doubtless if you are fans of Evangelion, then you must have experienced other fanfics in this
area of interest. As you've probably noted, there are a lot of freaky people out there writing
themselves into fics and performing unspeakable acts to various characters, their personalities
and the English language in general. Many of the jokes and grammatical errors in this chapter
are a 'tribute' to these monstrosities. Also, the innuendo in this part gets REALLY thick. If you
don't enjoy such, don't read it. For the rest of you right-minded individuals, enjoy.)
As always, Evangelion and all associated characters and situations are property of Gainax.
The Slayers cast are also not ours. We continue to make no money from these stories (or just
about anything else, for that matter) so don't sue us, please.
* A Neon Genesis Evangelion/Slayers Crossover *
* *
* Cruel Lina's Thesis *
* *
* Part 4: And the Plot Arose *
---------------------------------------
But will you respect me in the morning?
---------------------------------------
Dawn broke over Tokyo-3, casting warm comforting light over the city. Well, it was
comforting to those who hadn't drunk themselves unconscious the night before, anyway.
Stabbing rays of yellow pain lanced in through the windows of Misato's apartment, eventually
penetrating eyelids and even hastily pulled up blankets.
"Ack. My mouth tastes like something crawled into it and committed seppuku." Shinji
groggily rubbed his eyes, and reached down, trying to pull the blankets up farther.
"Shinji." Rei's voice was strangely close by.
"Um, yes Rei?"
"That's not a blanket."
Shinji rolled over, coming face to face with Rei. Very face to face. Shinji stared into Rei's
eyes, and noticed the material in his hand was a lot finer than blankets usually are. He also felt
something rubbing against his legs that felt suspiciously like another leg. It wasn't covered with
anything. Oops.
Shinji carefully put the skirt back where it ought to be, and smoothed it out. Then he realized
where his hands were.
"Uuuhhh..."
Rei merely watched him, impassive.
Asuka's voice yelled from the other side of the room. "Shinji you pervert! What the hell do
you think you're doing!"
Rei sat up and watched Asuka for a moment. "We could ask you the same question, Asuka."
Confused, Asuka looked down. Pen Pen looked back at Asuka, gave her an affectionate peck
on the cheek, and waddled off.
"..."
Shinji watched Asuka, who seemed frozen. "Um. Asuka? Are you alright?"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"
It's amazing how a blood-curdling scream can wake people immune to even top-of-the-line
alarm clocks. Kaji rolled over to turn off the alarm, but his arm seemed to be blocked by large,
springy pillows. "I can't reach your alarm, Misato."
"The alarm's not on this side of the bed." Misato mumbled, barely conscious.
"Oh." Kaji rolled the other way, and found his face against some more pillows. "Hey Misato,
why do you have so many pillows on your bed?"
An entirely different voice spoke from above the pillows. "Those aren't pillows, Kaji-san, but
you're welcome to keep your head there as long as you like." Naga grinned at him.
Misato, now fully awake, hauled on the blankets to cover herself, unceremoniously dumping
the other two onto the floor. And each other.
Naga giggled. "Oh, Kaji-San, AGAIN?"
"What do you mean, AGAIN?" Kaji and Misato said together, Misato at much higher decibel
levels.
Kaji rubbed chin quizzically after he climbed off of Naga. "You know, I can remember
kissing a dark-haired girl last night, but I can't quite seem to recall which one..."
Naga waved a hand haughtily. "Well, given my superiority in both the fields of alcohol
tolerance and... endowment... I think it's almost guaranteed that you chose me over that old hag.
Oh-ho-ho-hohohoh *BANG* ho...uhk." Naga collapsed to the ground as Misato returned the
sorceress to dreamland by the head trauma express. She then put the badly cracked end table
back in its place.
"I wonder if anyone else is up?"
In fact, the typical (for Misato's apartment) morning noises were waking everyone else up.
Toji rolled over and smiled at Hikari. "Good morning Dear." She gently touched his face,
and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Getting ready to stand up, Toji rolled the other way.
"Good morning Dear." Kensuke grinned evilly at Toji. Kensuke got his face touched, but not
gently.
"Hi hi!" Amelia bounced into the room. Under one arm she had a plush Sailor Moon, under
the other was a plush Shinji. Unlike the others, she did not appear to have slept in her clothes.
Instead, she was wearing a knee-length Hello Kitty t-shirt. How she had managed to find these
items and change while unconscious and in an alcoholic stupor will remain a mystery for all
time.
Amelia, somehow perky in spite of any hangover she should have and the early hour, bopped
over to where her companions were still sleeping. "Hey Miss Lina, Mr. Gaurry! Did you have a
good sleep? ...[much quieter] oh, I guess you did." Amelia walked away from where the two
were
entwined in each other's limbs, and looked for breakfast.
---------------------------------------
The Breakfast of Champions (of Justice)
---------------------------------------
The cast were sitting around Misato's apartment, holding paper plates and waiting for
breakfast to be served. Kaji was busy preparing the breakfast (a traditional English breakfast:
Bangers (sausage) and Mash (potatoes)), with the help of Shinji and, of all people, Naga. Naga
was still wearing the sweater and leggings from the day before, but had accented them with a
Piyo Piyo apron. As she prepared an omelette, she seemed to be humming to herself. "Oh egg,
oh egg, I'm going to mix you up, mix you up..."
Lina watched Naga cook with a baffled expression. "Um, Naga? What are you doing? This
whole homebody thing really isn't like you, is it?"
"Hah! You were always ignorant of the womanly arts, Lina. Should you manage to pull off
one of the great miracles of the age and land a man, your meagre to nonexistent domestic skills
mean you won't be able to keep him. I, on the other hand," at this, Naga gave her hips a wiggle,
the ripples from which ran through her body to her arm, flipping the omelette. "have all the
bases covered."
Lina was having trouble finding a safe place to point her gaze. She couldn't look at Gaurry
after where she woke up, and looking at Naga right now was... disturbing. Unfortunately,
Misato's apartment wasn't really that big, so her options were severely limited. Misato was
polishing off three cans of hair of the dog, or 'breakfast' as she called it. As a painful reminder
of the night before (and the throbbing headache and nausea last night caused) she was being
forcibly ignored by everybody. So Lina tried the only person she considered remotely as sane as
herself, Hikari.
"Toji?" Hikari mumbled.
"Yes Dear?"
"Should you consider inviting me out to a glamourous evening of dancing and drinking..."
"Yes Dear?"
"You die."
"Yes dear."
Kensuke was reading the label on a bottle of pink liquid. "For mild indigestion, take one
spoonful. For acute indigestion, take two." Nodding sagely (and very carefully) to himself, he
upended the bottle into a glass and downed it.
Kaji began serving the mash, and Amelia walked around with the other plate. Shinji sat at
the table, between Asuka and Rei. Amelia approached Gaurry, who seemed distracted, staring
into space.
"Banger?"
"NO!" Gaurry waved his hands in denial, blushing.
Amelia, not ever having seen Gaurry refuse food, was confused. "Well, okay." She walked
off towards Lina.
Lina was wrapped in her own thoughts. "What the heck was I doing in Gaurry's arms this
morning? How drunk was I? This isn't how I act at all. For that matter, Gaurry was acting
really strange last night too. Something is really wrong. The way Asuka and I were blushing
and fawning of Gaurry last night... you'd think we were both after..."
"Sausage?"
"NO!" Lina shot up straight in her chair, and almost fell.
Amelia was now more confused. "Oh well. More for the rest of us then." She puttered off
towards the table. Lina blinked.
Kaji wiped his hands on a towel, and then stood behind Misato. "You seem awfully wound
up, Misato." He placed his hands on her shoulders, and began a light neck rub.
She slapped his hands away. "Knock it off, buster. I haven't forgiven you yet."
Shrugging, Kaji sat at the table, and began to eat.
"I think you need a big one."
Misato's hair stood on end.
Kaji looked down. "No thanks, I already have one." He pointed at the sausage on his plate.
Misato stabbed him with her fork. Then she thought about it, and stabbed him again, for good
measure.
Asuka had taken the seat directly across the square table from Rei, leaving Shinji to very
reluctantly sit between them. Shinji seemed to be blushing a bit, as he aimlessly pushed his fork
around in his breakfast. Asuka's breakfast was smouldering under the death glare she refused to
let show in front of Kaji. Rei calmly drank her tea.
Amelia sat at the table across from Shinji, still holding the plush Sailor Moon and Shinji
dolls, beaming. She served herself, Asuka and Shinji, but ran out before she got to Rei. "Oh no,
I'm all out. Shinji, give Rei your meat."
Asuka choked. Shinji froze. Rei raised an eyebrow in classic Spock fashion. "I don't like
meat." she replied.
Asuka violently stabbed a sausage with her fork, and tore a piece off with her teeth. "Well
she's not getting anything from me!"
Amelia, deciding anything she didn't understand wasn't important, turned to Rei. "How did
you sleep I slept very well I had a room all to myself Look at the cute things I found in there!"
Amelia pushed the plush dolls into Rei's face.
Asuka looked over, and blinked. Then she blinked again, and her eyes became REALLY
wide.
Shinji scratched his head. "A room to yourself? Well, you weren't in my room, or Misato's
room, or the living room, that would only leave..."
Asuka gritted her teeth. "Exactly how is it 'Just' to take and wear other people's things?" I
mean, these OBVIOUSLY aren't mine. And I really doubt that they're Shinji's or Misato's. They
must belong to the apartment's previous occupants. Yes,.... YES", she added as if to convince
herself and the others. "IF that's the case, they must have been in a really hard to find spot in my
room where no one would go looking for them? Soooo.....
maybeyoushouldjustleavethemwithmeforsafekeepingok?" Asuka snatched the plush items,
clutching them possessively to her chest.
A silence fell across that end of the table. Amelia blinked slowly. "Ookay. But they weren't
really hidden. They were just in a cardboard box hidden behind some stacks of 'Teen Heartthrob'
magazines."
Shinji, sensing a rare opening, attacked. "The box wouldn't by any chance be labelled
'Asuka's box of very private things, peek on penalty of horribly painful death; Shinji this means
you'?"
Amelia thought for a moment. "I think so." She brightened. "But I'm not Shinji, so I didn't
think it meant me."
Asuka leapt to her feet, frustrated beyond the need to hide embarrassment. "I don't believe
this! Nobody around here gives me the least respect! You touched my favourite things. Nobody
touches my favourite things!" Asuka felt a rubbing against her thigh. She looked down, and
found Pen Pen cuddling up against her.
"..."
Shinji put on a WWI helmet, and ducked under the table.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
"SSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Half a dozen very hung over people hushed
Asuka into next week.
Later, the students and Misato were cleaning up after breakfast, and Kaji was taking the
opportunity to shower and not shave his stubble. There came a knock at the door, which Misato
answered. A small girl in a yellow dress frowned cutely up at her. Misato looked confused.
"Um. Yes?"
"It's 10:30am. Do you know where your children are?" The girl asked in a sweet voice.
"Of course, they're right here. They're getting ready for schoWHAT TIME DID YOU SAY IT
WAS?" Misato grabbed Hinako's wrist, and stared at the watch. "Oh hell! I'm late!" Misato
grabbed a red jacket off the coat rack, and bolted out the door. A moment later, a squeal of
abused tires indicated she was well on her way to work. Hinako shrugged, and walked into the
apartment. The first person she found was Amelia. Amelia stared at her, then yelled over her
shoulder.
"Lina! That girl with the really neat spell you want to learn is here!" [camera cuts to the
outside of the apartment.]
"DELINQUENTS!" *Ka-BOOOM!*
A few minutes later, a much more full-bodied Hinako walked towards the school, leading the
troupe of drained students. They wore leg-irons, and were manacled together as a chain-gang.
Gaurry stumbled, and stared mournfully into the sky. *My name is Gaurry Gabriev, and I am
a slave.*
-------------------------
Another day at the office
-------------------------
Misato dropped, exhausted from running, into her chair. She pushed the sleeves of the jacket
up for the umpteenth time. In her rush, she'd taken Gaurry's jacket, and it was a bit big for her.
Maya Ibuki gingerly walked in, and sat at her console with exaggerated care. She was
wearing dark sunglasses, and seemed to be wincing a lot.
Misato smiled at Maya's well-recognized discomfort. "Rough night, Maya?"
Maya fumbled in her desk, retrieving a bottle of Tokyo, uh, Tylenol-3. She took two. "Um.
You could say that, Commander. I drank a little more than I ought to have."
"Oh really?" Misato jested, giving Maya a playful jab in the shoulder. "And how many would
that be?"
"Um, I had about eight Margaritas over the night... I think." Maya looked a bit sheepish.
"Eight? Is that all? Naga and I split a bottle of vodka, as well as who knows how many beer
chasers, and look at me!" Misato, in a show of comraderie, threw a beer-buddy arm across
Maya's shoulders, and gestured wildly with her free arm. "Ah, I remember the good old
university days. Why, I could count the days we didn't pass out on the fingers of one hand. If I
could remember them."
Maya felt odd. "Misato's got that whole 'I can take on the world' attitude going again. She's
so... inspirational. I feel like I could do anything with her. Beside me."
Misato continued on, oblivious. "Yep, those were the days. Now we all have to be
responsible. No more fun and games for me and Ritsuko. You should have seen her back then.
She was a wild thing, always game to try something new." Misato casually leaned back in her
office chair, stretching out her long legs, and crossing them on the desk in front of Maya.
Maya stared, her mind going in circles.
The doctor being discussed chose this moment to walk in. "What are you babbling about
now, Misato?"
"Oh, hey Rit-chan. I was just reminiscing to Maya about our old school days together."
"Oh, really?" Dr. Akagi sat on the edge of the desk beside Misato's feet, her lab coat falling
partially off of her shoulders. Ritsuko smiled coyly, toying with her zipper pull ring.
Maya was transfixed, staring wide-eyed as the scene before her played itself out.
Ritsuko continued. "Did you tell her about that time you and I got really, REALLY drunk,
and went back to your dorm room? We were so silly, we started to tickle each other, then you
fell, tripping me too. We must have rolled around for five minutes getting our limbs sorted out,
and you ripped my dress." She absentmindedly trailed a finger over Misato's leg.
Maya was turning blue, afraid to breathe.
Misato frowned. "Ritsuko, are you okay? I don't remember that."
Dr. Akagi started, and stood up, looking honestly baffled. "Sorry, I'm under a lot of stress
today. Fixing Eva-01 after that fall, analysing that strange energy reading from the battle, and
everything else. You know how it is. No rest for the wicked."
"Ah, I understand. There's been a lot of weird going around lately. More than usual I mean."
Misato waved dismissively, and the left sleeve of the jacket fell down over her hand. "Damn.
This stupid jacket of Gaurry's is just too damn big."
Misato and Ritsuko stood up and headed for the door, planning to visit Ritsuko's lab to check
on the latest data. While they walked, Misato went off on a rant. "While I'm thinking about it,
what the heck is with marketing? We're getting more inane every day. I mean, an Eva in a
dress? With a wand? I dread to see what they're going to throw at us next."
Maya missed the conversation, lost in her own thoughts. "What in blazes was that all
about?? That was even stranger than what happened between Asuka and that blond last night.
Come to think of it though, it was the same kind of strange. Could the two be connected? What
was different about Misato that would cause Dr. Akagi to act that way?"
Ritsuko smiled at Misato. "Hey, look on the bright side. At least they didn't summon that
stupid multi-part combiner robot those idiot Americans are working on." The two left the room.
Maya leapt to her feet, knocking the Tylenol bottle to the floor. "THE JACKET!"
------------------------------------
Kozo's been a naughty extra
------------------------------------
The rhythmic steps reverberated off the walls of the cold, empty hallway that lead to the
office of Gendo Ikari. He always hated this long walk. He had hated his job ever since the
maniacal Gendo Ikari had stepped into his life. "Why did I stay on?", he asked himself; as if the
echoing walls would provide an answer. "Because I thought I could make a difference, that I
could guide NERV away from this path of ultimate self-destruction and reason Gendo into an
alternate course of action.... but mostly for the benefits package. Oh well, time to face the
music."
Pressing his hand against the electronic pad, Fuyutsuki waited for the automatic door to slide
open. Thereupon, he entered the office of his superior, the Supreme Tactical Commander of
NERV, Gendo Ikari.
"Gendo? Gendo?" He was answered by silence. It was only mid-morning so the sun lay to
the East. The light that entered the room provided ample room for concealment. "Computer,
illuminate room."
Nothing.
"Oh right, I'm not in a Star Trek fic.". He flicked the light switch to the 'on' position. Lights
brightened the entire room. The room was devoid of life, save himself. Walking over to
Gendo's desk, he came across 3 items of interest: A note addressed to him, a sealed envelope
and a tape recorder. The instructions on the note were simple, "Play tape. Open envelope
afterwards."
Fuyusuki depressed the play button.
" [static hiss]..... Oh, Oh Gendo!... OH! Oh, you're not recording this are you?...", declared a
taped voice that sounded suspiciously like Dr. Akagi. "Would you care to try an 'insertion plug'
test, dear?" said Gendo. Kozo decided to fast-forward.
"[the squeaky fast-forward resolved itself into a young male's voice] ..... Oh, Oh Gendo!...
OH! Oh, keep it down, someone will hear you! Are you sure you're not recording this?...".
Fuyusuki decided to fast-forward, again; quickly.
There is a long period of silence, then tone. "Is this thing on?... Hello? Testing 1-2-3. Good
Morning Mr. Phelps. What? *mumbling off in the background* Oh. Sorry. Wrong script. Here
we go. Good morning Kozo." said the recording of Gendo's voice. "I'm sorry that I could not be
there to deliver this message in person, but I am required on a procurement mission for the Seele
Council for new equipment that may prove useful to us in future marketing ploys. In the
meantime, you have some duties that must be attended to."
"Oh, just peachy." thought Fuyusuki.
"To begin with, you will be in charge of masking my absence while I am not present. You
have no authority to do anything or sign any orders without my permission. I expect you'll not
have any trouble with that.
"WHAT! Why have you stripped all my power you infernal machine!" Kozo smacked the hand
held recorder in his rage.
"The reason for your current state of 'authoritative impotency' stems from the decision you
reached yesterday concerning our current pilots 'extracurricular activities'. We received the bill
this morning. You may open the envelope now if you wish."
"Hrmph! And what makes you think that I didn't open it already you putz?" Fuyusuki replied
as he tore open the letter.
"Because through the diligent service of my MIB's I know everything Kozo." said the
well-timed recording. "I even know about your, shall we say, 'preferred form of undergarment'?"
Fuyusuki could just picture the MIB's delivering their report to Gendo as he listened over his
steepled fingers; ending their commentary with the words, 'pink, with little blue bears'.
"In any event, since I approved the event under YOUR advisement, I've delegated the
responsibility of receiving the punishment to you as well. Because of this extravagant bill, you
will be given no pay for the next 3 months. Furthermore you will have to pay for this incurred
cost out of your own savings. But, to end on a positive note, I've recorded the latest concert from
Michael Bolton on this tape, so... enjoy! Back in a couple of weeks. Love, Gendo Ikari"
"200,000,000 Yen!" he read. "This is intolerable!"
Just then, the Michael Bolton music began to play, and Fuyutsuki corrected himself, "on
second thought, THIS is
intolerable."
"I, Kozo Fuyutsuki, voted most likely to be made an 'extra' in an Evangelion fic by my
graduating class, do hereby promise, nay, SWEAR that I shall have my revenge on Commander
Gendo Ikari!"
"Oh, by the way Kozo. This message will self destruct in 5 seconds."
"You must be kidding."
[Camera cuts to the outside of NERV HQ.] *Ka-BOOOM!*. Cutting back we see Kozo,
holding the tape and bill in one hand. The other hand (and indeed that half of his body) is now a
pleasant crispy black. "Perhaps not."
-----------
School Daze
-----------
The motley crew stood outside their classroom, each holding buckets of water. Lina grumped
at the world in general. "Well here we are with placards around our necks, described as a bunch
of hostile, disruptive students with no regard for authority. That's some reputation."
Shinji stretched his sore arms. "Well, at least we're not described as a bunch of hostile,
disruptive students with no regard for human life."
Asuka hit him with a bucket.
"See?" Shinji sighed.
Gaurry scratched his nose with a free finger. "Can you tell me why are we holding buckets?"
Hikari looked at him funny. "How far out of town are you from? This is a traditional
punishment in all Japanese schools."
The default professor suck his head out from the classroom at the 'disruptive' bunch as the
remainder of the class began to file out. "Well, it's just about lunchtime. You might as well head
off to have your lunch; I hear they're serving Mystery Meat today with extra grey sauce."
Kensuke, not quite over the effects of last night turned grey.
They teacher went on, "Well, then again, there's always the Soylent Green."
Kensuke turned green.
"Not up for solid foods eh? Well here," trying to be helpful to the obviously suffering student.
"You can have my Mr. Pibb."
No one saw Kensuke leave. There was only a blur that headed in the general direction of the
bathroom. The rest of the gang shrugged, and headed to lunch, Gaurry snagging the Pibb on the
way.
Lunch was, thankfully, uneventful. The students dutifully filed into the room, and sat at their
desks. What was odd was the teacher was acting uncharacteristically nervous. He fidgeted,
loosened his collar, and cleared his throat.
"Your attention please. I have just been informed by the administration that my methods of
teaching have failed to meet the expectations and requirements laid out in the guidelines. I'm to
go in for a refresher course. In the meantime, your class will be taught by this man." The teacher
gestured to the door, and a scruffy looking man wearing a lab coat walked in and proceeded to
the front of the room.
Murmurs ran through the class. "A substitute?", " You mean the old fart got canned?", "Does
this mean we're actually going to have to study?", "Where are his eyes?", "Yeah, and how does
he get that cigarette to levitate in front of his mouth?"
The scruffy man smiled. "Hello, class. I'm Professor Kyusaku, and I'll be teaching your class
for a while. According to our records, your education has been lacking in both the literary and
scientific arts. So to try to correct those problems, I'm instituting two special projects. First, for
the literary angle, we will be studying and performing a play. For science, a team science
project."
This revelation was met with shock and a profound silence by the students. Toji was the first
to get his jaw working. "But- but- but plays are girls stuff!"
Toji's hair began to smoulder as he was bracketed by twin glares of doom from Asuka and
Hikari.
"Okay, now we're going to have a vote to decide what play we should do. Please write your
suggestions on paper and put them in this bowl." Kyusaku walked around the room, collecting
the slips of paper. He brought them to the front, and counted them. Slightly more than half of
the class voted for Snow White, with Mystery Kung-Fu Ninja Action Theatre a close second.
And there was one vote for Waiting for Godot.
Everyone in class stared at Rei. "What?"
Kyusaku rubbed his scraggly chin. "Okay, so it looks like we're doing Snow White then.
Now, I realize that everyone will want to play the main characters, but that just isn't possible.
So, for lack of a more fair way to do it, I've put all the girls names into this bowl, and all the guys
in this one. We'll simply draw for roles and understudies." A sense of terrible foreboding settled
over the class.
Shinji slapped a hand to his forehead as the teacher wrote the available roles on the
blackboard (including rock #1-#3, trees #1 and #2, and numerous extraneous extras). "Oh this is
going to be baaaad."
"Okay, starting with the most desired role. Snow White will be played by-urk-" Kyusaku
grimaced as Asuka, out of sight, applied a nasty nerve pinch. "Uh-Miss Langley-Soryuu."
"What? Little ol' me?" Asuka happily bounced back to her seat, followed by withering glares
from most of her female classmates.
"Um. Right. Understudy to the role will be..." Kyusaku checked the slip. "Miss Inverse."
Amelia smiled at her friend. "How perfect Miss Lina! Nobody will be able to tell if you have
to trade places with miss Asuka!" Lina just sighed and put her head in her hands.
"The wicked queen will be played by Miss Amelia Saillune." Many, many jaws hit the floor.
"But, but," Amelia's eyes filled with tears, "I can't play the wicked queen. Being wicked is
unjust. I don't know how to be unjust!"
"...understudied by," Kyusaku squinted at the paper, scratched his head, and shrugged. "Miss
Great White Serpent."
Naga shot to her feet. "What!? I, the great Naga, greatest rival of Lina Inverse, am to be an
UNDERSTU-"WHACK! Naga toppled over backwards as a piece of high-velocity chalk
ricocheted off the bridge of her nose. The rest of the class became very well behaved.
Kyusaku adjusted his cigarette, and picked up a new piece of chalk. "If we can continue?
The Mirror will be played by Miss Ayanami, understudied by Miss Hikari Horaki." Rei just
nodded, but Hikari looked nervous, and bit her lip.
"For the male roles, Prince Charming will be understudied by Mr. Gabriev."
Asuka got a wild gleam in her eye. "Oh he will, will he? I imagine he'll bring his own props,
too..." Another fine Asuka plot began to gestate.
"The actual role of Prince Charming will be played by..." Time seemed to slow. Every male
student had the same thoughts running through their head. Asuka was Snow White. Prince
Charming gets to kiss Snow White. That would mean kissing Asuka. It was a wonderful
prospect, save for the fact that it might be the last thing Prince Charming ever did. Who would
be the 'lucky' man?
"...Shinji Ikari."
Shinji's head fell to his desk with a bang. "Figures."
"Because of the small size of this class, I think we should mix the Dwarves as both boys and
girls." Kyusaku began rattling off roles and names. Most were uninspired, but there were a few
serendipitous selections.
"Whaddaya mean I gotta be Grumpy?" Toji fumed. Well, duh.
--------------------------------------
Where Angels Fear^H^H^H^HLike to Tread
--------------------------------------
The Great C'Thulu, unchallenged lord of icky, nasty things everywhere, adjusted his reading
glasses and shuffled some papers on his desk. "According to this Memo, the powers that be are
unsatisfied with this committee's efforts of late. We're being assigned two observers, who will
report back on our work. They also have advisory authority."
Sachiel slouched in his chair. "Oh sure, 'advisory authority'. That means we have to pander
to these buttinskis or we get tanked." Sachiel rattled the icebergs in his water glass. "This
wouldn't have happened if we hadn't been relying on Frink's gizmo."
"Gizmo? I'll give you such a wa-hey zing ka-pow for gizmo! The Frinkotron is the most
state-of-the-art device for collating, cross-referencing and extrapolating data on the
terror-inducing qualities of Angel names ever built! Powered by a linked pair of S-2 engines, it
can do fifteen scadzillion uber-flops a fortnight! And it runs linux!"
Before the discussion could degenerate into a brawl (or, more likely, Sachiel just stepped on
Frink), the doors to the room creaked open, drawing the committee's attention. There didn't
seem to be anyone there.
"Down here."
C'Thulu looked down. He still didn't see anyone.
"No, further down."
C'Thulu looked right at the floor, squinting to make out the shapes there. They appeared to
be lab mice... with M&M's glued to their chests.
C'Thulu rubbed his temples. He felt a headache coming on. "Aren't you a bit short for
Angels?"
The large-headed of the pair spoke. "It's a trick of perspective. I'm actually just very far
away."
Sachiel pulled out a pair of opera glasses to help him see the new arrivals. "Do you two have
names?" He asked incredulously.
"I," spoke the large-headed one, "am Brainiel. This is my associate, Pinkyel."
"Narf." The skinny one waved.
Frink, not trusting his eyes, took his glasses off, polished them, put them back on, and looked
again. "YOU are an Angel?"
"Actually, I'm a lab mouse with an M&M glued to my chest as part of an elaborate scheme
that will allow me to take over the world."
Sachiel shook his head in wonder. "Wow. You sound totally convincing. I wish I could
think of cunning plans to infiltrate NERV like that. All I could think of was to take them head
on."
C'Thulu clapped his hands for attention. "Enough chit-chat. Now that we're all here, we
should get to the matter at hand." The Great Old One pushed a button on his desk. "Please send
in the next candidate, Ms. Moneypenny."
The titanic door to the committee chamber swung open, and the latest Angel walked in. It,
like many of its predecessors (Sachiel included) was shaped as a caricature of the human form.
In this case, four rubbery limbs stretched from a spherical torso, with another sphere on top for
the head. The hands and feet were plump and oversized, the hands having three chubby fingers
and a thumb each. The head was decorated garishly, with a clownish mockery of a human face,
including pointed, curly tufts of 'hair' that jutted out of either side of the head. As it entered, the
committee realized that despite its enormous size and mass, it moved in utter silence.
The committee watched it approach, and waited for it to identify itself. It stopped before
them and stood there, silent and unmoving. This went on for a while. Frink coughed
uncomfortably.
C'Thulu leaned over (and down) to whisper to Brainiel. "I wasn't expecting this. Is this some
new procedure I've not been informed of?"
Brainiel rubbed his chin in consternation. "If so, I have not been informed, either."
The new Angel, seemingly out of boredom, changed positions. It stuck its right elbow out,
crossed its legs, and proceeded to alternately examine and buff on its chest the backs of its
fingers.
Sachiel would have blinked in confusion if it had eyelids.
"Ooh, ooh!" Pinkyel hopped up and down. "I know this one! Leaning on a ledge, right?"
The new Angel smiled, nodded, and proceeded to another set of actions.
"Climbing a rope?"
Nod.
"Walking down stairs?"
Nod.
"Feeding spaghetti to an elephant?"
Nod.
"Gosh, I'm good at this!"
The remainder of the Angel naming committee was dumbstruck.
Frink's jaw worked uselessly for a while, but he managed to squeak out: "Wah-ho. It's a- it's
a- it's a silent street performing clown of the French tradition, yang wah-hey pow."
Brainiel's eyes filled with horror. "It's a MIME."
C'Thulu slumped in his chair, and buried his tentacles in his hands. "I think I can safely say
we're all agreed on a name for.. for THAT."
Four voices spoke in unison, there was only one dissenter.
"Marcel"
"Zort!"
--------------------
The play's the thing
--------------------
The following Saturday, the pilots walked towards the school, where a rehearsal of the play
was scheduled. This was also the first day they would try on their costumes.
"Hey, Shinji, nice jacket." Toji remarked as he came up alongside the third child.
Shinji looked at the red jacket tossed casually over his right shoulder, and shrugged. "This?
This is Gaurry's. Misato finally remembered she'd taken it by accident, so she sent it with me
since I'll be seeing him today."
"That was a good idea." Hikari remarked, without looking.
"Whatever." Shinji sighed in a familiarly disaffected (yet, somehow, much cooler than
normal) way.
As they approached the auditorium, they noticed a crowd of girls milling around the entrance.
The girls were whispering and giggling to each other, and seemed to be holding coil notebooks.
Then the girls noticed the pilots, and squealed "It's PRINCE CHARMING!"
Abruptly, Shinji was surrounded. "Can I have your autograph?", "Sign mine first!", "It's for
my sister, not me, really!", "Sign mine 'thanks for the support, Achika, keep dreams alive!'"
Shinji dutifully signed all the books, then walked on. Inside, Toji blinked and shook his
head. "What the hell was THAT all about?"
Shinji merely shrugged, tossed the jacket over the back of a chair, and walked off to change
into costume.
Inside the auditorium was a hive of activity, with students running everywhere setting up the
stage and trying to get used to their costumes. Lina, Gaurry, Amelia and Naga were doing much
better than the others, as the gowns and dress uniform were actually familiar to them. Plus,
three of them had experience with the theatre.
"Oh Miss Lina!" Amelia gushed. "Isn't it great to be back in show business? Ah, the lights,
the roar of the crowd, the smell of greasepaint! I'd forgotten how wonderful it all was! This
time, instead of playing the dashing, fearless, very cute heroine, I'll be cunning, heartless, very
beautiful villainess! What a chance to stretch my dramatic breadth!" Amelia mooned around
the room, stars in her eyes and a constellation of little hearts floating along after her. Naga
gagged visibly.
Gaurry adjusted the Sword of Light on the tacky baldric that was part of his costume, then
scratched his head. "This time? Lina, what is she talking about? When did we do Snow White
before?"
Lina pulled up her skirts and gave Gaurry a swift kick in the rear. "She doesn't mean Snow
White specifically, moron. She means being in a play. You DO remember that time we hid out
with that travelling performance of 'The Righteous End of the Terrible Demon Lina Inverse' or
whatever that tripe was called? You and I were the front and back ends of the 'Dragon Slave'?
Am I ringing ANY bells?"
"Oh! I remember now! The food wasn't very good, the costume smelled bad, and you kept
hitting me in the back of the head." Gaurry thought for a moment or eight, then smiled. "But
there's no Dragon in Snow White, so everything will be fine."
Lina, unable to counter that, just sighed and walked off.
"Why do I have to be rock #3?" Kensuke griped.
"Because there are no dwarves in this scene, and the regular guy made his costume too
realistic and dropped it on his foot." Hikari explained, deadpan, while going over her own lines.
Toji looked concerned. "You okay Hikari? You've been sounding, I dunno, a little flat
lately."
Hikari looked up slowly, and fixed Toji with an unblinking stare. "I am supposed to
understudy Rei as the mirror. It is my purpose."
Toji didn't look satisfied, but let it go.
Shinji, having changed into costume, walked back to the group. "I really hate this get-up."
Shinji pulled at one of his swash-topped boots, tightening the buckle. "These red tights are
cutting off my- circulation."
Kensuke snickered impishly. "[bad British accent] Cor, it takes a real manly man to wear
tights."
Asuka bapped him in the back of the head. "Shut up, you're a rock."
"Oh," Naga interjected, "and you are a pure and virtuous maiden, of course."
"Excuse me?! To whom do you think you're speaking? Miss UNDERSTUDY?"
Naga looked confused. "Aren't you an understudy too?"
"No, stupid," Lina walked up behind Naga, wearing exactly the same dress as Asuka. "I'M the
understudy."
Naga scratched her head, then dismissed it as yet another totally unimportant thing she didn't
understand.
Amelia bounced over. "C'mon sis! You promised me you'd teach me to laugh evilly so I
could perform my role better." Amelia grabbed Naga's arm, and hauled the older sorceress to the
other side of the room. Moments later, laughter of varying evil drifted back.
Kensuke sighed. "I had no idea putting on a play was so much work. I certainly wasn't
expecting any weekend rehearsals. This is terrible!"
Toji lumbered over in his dwarf costume. "What's the matter Aida? Planning to camp out in
a field and shoot a toy gun at helpless grass again?"
Kensuke shook his head. "No, there's a big science fiction/Star Trek/Anime con down at the
new Tokyo-3 Convention Centre. There's supposed to be all kinds of really neat stuff there, plus
lots of special guests! Man, I wish I was down there."
-------------------------------------------------
Tap personal incarnation to deal 5 damage to plot
-------------------------------------------------
The Con that Kensuke mentioned was none other than the Gainax Pan-Dimensional Ultra
Anime, RPG and Star Trek Con. The latter half of that title was a result of the con's co-sponsor,
Planet Hollywood-3. The result of this was, well, moderately horrifying to say the least. Firstly,
the guest list featured none other than the' Patrick Stewart (his body being cryogenically
preserved since 2003 and only thawed out for con's and really bad fanfics) complete with special
'mystery guest'. As to who the accompanying visitor would be, only time would tell. Something
in the program alluded to an appearance of actor David Ducovney and PC gaming's hottest lady.
Unfortunately, all of the programs seemed to have the same anomalous printing error which
blotted out key words here and there.
The remainder of the guest list well,... featured some other attempts that 'former freelance
writers' for Gainax had latched upon.
Montgomery Burns looked down from his perch atop the newly built convention centre.
"Look at them Smithers. All those science fiction buffoons lining up in their ancient 'trekkie'
uniforms, dying to give us their hard earned dollars."
"I believe the national unit of currency in Japan is the Yen sir.", replied his faithful
manservant Waylan Smithers.
"Are all the preparations ready for our conventioneers?"
"Yes sir. The walls of the centre were soundproofed so there will be no violation of noise
statutes, all the merchandise has bee laid out for sale and all the performers and all but one of
the Eva lecturers has been accounted for."
Jin Hibiki, 'another' 4th child, son of the martial artist Ryoga Hibiki and his wife Akari, a
sumo pig trainer, stood looking out at the landscape before him. He was 'yet another' EVA pilot.
He had inherited much of his father's brawn and skill. Unfortunately he had also inherited his
father's sense of direction. "Um,... excuse me Mr. Sheep Herder? Could you point me to
Tokyo-3?"
Replied the shepherd, "Shurin'a leprechaun's green I ha'en't te foggiest as tae what yar on
aboot laddie.".
Jin sighed.
Back in Tokyo-3, Smithers continued. "Oh,... and the Palladium lecturer will also be delayed
too."
Burns murmured, "Very well. Release the hounds!"
"Hounds sir?"
"Didn't you order the man-eating dogs?"
"Um,.. Sir? When you said to get dogs suitable for the consumption of humans, I assumed
you meant frankfurters."
"Doooh.... never mind. Let them in...", Burns was not happy.
The throng of red-shirted fanboys (and the occasional fangirl) poured in from the crowded
street into the convention centre. Some carried toy phasers, others shopping bags.
As the press of bodies entered the convention centre, they were greeted by a HUGE billboard
and stage. Along the rim of the stage were signs saying, "See the amazing '6th Children' of
Evangelion: Tom Dyron, master of music, martial arts and all things under heaven (except
grammar) perform LIVE!" Upon the stage was an uberkid. He had black hair tied in a pony tail,
dark brown eyes, and was wearing very large jeans. Some described him as a six footed
individual, but those people were dumb. Dragons Of Doom was the name of the band plastered
across the canvas behind him.
The teen then began to mercilessly beat upon his instrument in a fashion that some would call
'music' but what most would equate to an accurate rendition of the brutal massacre of one
thousand badly tuned cats.... and then he started to sing...
"Smithers! What is that horrid sound!", yelled Burns to his assistant over the din.
"Tom! Dyron! Sir! One of our. Failed. Avatars!" Smithers replied.
"Can we stop him?!"
"Not until he's finished his first set... sir!". His hands covered his ears in desperate hopes of
muffling the sound.
"Smithers?!" Burns sounded "I don't think... I can... Take... Much.... More.", Burns slumped to
the floor.
"Sir!" Smithers voice over the dying din of the Tom Dyron's song carried with it a ray of
hope, "Look! The attendees are forming into an angry mob! They're stopping the music and
dragging Tom away to be burned at the stake!"
"We don't have to rescue him, do we?" Burn's voice was plaintive.
Smithers helped up his superior, "All in good time sir. All in good time."
They watched on with smug looks upon their faces as the 6th Children was dragged off
despite his cries of, "What's going on?!", "Why aren't you agreeing with me?!", "I'm too cool to
die!"
We move out over the throng. The convention was now in full swing. Off in the Star Trek
section, classic red shirts copied from the original series sold like hot cakes. All classic nostalgia
was marked for sale. The stage and podium where Cpt. Picard and 'guest' were scheduled to
arrive were set and waiting.
The fervour had yet to reach the RPG section of the con as the guest lecturer from Palladium
had once again been delayed. No one understood why this delay occurred but they were hardly
surprised. They knew Palladium far too well.
In the anime branch, the cash-cow that was Evangelion was being thoroughly milked; their
latest edition, 1/200 scale remote controlled Eva's (extension cord not included). In this area, two
separate sets of stages had been erected across from each other: one contained 2 lecterns, the
other was more like a booth upon a platform. Upon the lecterns stood 'yet another' 5th and 6th
children in their plug suits. A crowd had gathered in front of them, not because they were
interested in what they had to say, but more so because they were wondering who would throw
the first punch.
The little boy laughed and sayed "My name is Issei Malatioun, Eva Kid 6. I may be only 12
but I'm 1000 times smarter than you, bro!!!!"
"First off you green haired freak, I'm NOT a bro, I'm a girl!" said the figure at the other
podium.
"Cooda fowled me." replyed Issei
"What? What are,... oh never mind. Second, aside from being much smarter and a thousand
times prettier than you, I'm at least of legal age!"
"Four what?"
"Well, first off, for carrying pistols. And secondly, at least I don't have sex with people who
urinate in their beds all the time."
"Donut ya be sayed that about Shiji, Lia Fester"
"It's Shinji! And my name is LISA, Lisa Foster. God, use a spellchecker you twerp."
Issei polled out his Sword of Power (where he was hiding it, I'd rather not know) and tsalked
towards Lia, "I's gonna get yu ^@%$#!."
Lisa waved her hand in a pointless display of Author Avatar power, parrying the sword with a
blast from her AT Field. "And another thing, what was with that fire hose you had in your fic?
An Eva-scale water hose used to defeat a fire demon? Really."
Issei, desperate to find a counter attack to her line of interrogation played his trump card,
"Wall at lest I didn't slepp with da entire female cast of Eva. Even Rei."
The debate between the two erupted into a cat fight. It was an unspoken agreement among
those witnessing the proceedings that when the two avatars had expended their wrath upon each
other, that they would simply be tied up and carried to the open pit where the con attendees had
prepared the pyre in which to burn Tom Dyron.
"Well then," said an amplified British voice from across the isle. "Now that that's settled,
perhaps we can get on with a decent lecture." The voice belonged to that of a young boy,
somewhere between the ages of 14 and 16. In a painstaking process that took several paragraphs
to explain, he put down the book he had been reading in silence and approached the front stage.
"It's quite obvious that I'm the event you're here to see. And, as advertised in our poorly
printed programs, I'll be happy to sign all your autographs." the overly cocky young man added.
From the audience, the obvious question arose. "Um,.... Who the hell are you?"
"Why I'm DJ Croft; Glorious 5th Child from Neon Exodus Evangelion."
"Where's Lara?!" the now angry voice shouted back.
"Where's Fox Mulder (David Ducovney)?!" another voice added.
"Well, I'll answer the last question first." said DJ. "David's either in British Columbia or Los
Angeles. As for my Mom, *scoffs* do you really think she'd lower herself by appearing to the
likes of you? You should be grateful _I_ came. Why, if I didn't realize how much every woman
on Earth wants my body and could never say no to me, I'd hardly have had any motivation to
come at all."
This particular tirade was a bit much for the crowd. All in all, DJ wasn't all that bad; certainly
the lesser of the evils present. He was very articulate and he did have the decency to spell check
his work, but he HAD to pay for that attitude and his innate (or inane) ability to be good at
almost everything he did. As a mass, the crowd began to advance on him. There's no justice like
mob justice.
Sensing his imminent demise, DJ unholstered his pistols, pointing them at the crowd. "Back
off, and nobody gets hurt."
"Drop your weapon. You have 20 seconds to comply." Out of the crowd emerged our now
infamous pair of MIBs.
"You again! I though I sent you packing in my fic?" DJ yelled.
"Not a chance Croft. Just put down the guns and come with us and nobody will get hurt",
stated the second in dead even tones.
"You're just trying to get back at me for what I did to you in Chapter one of Neon Exodus."
Said the first MIB to his partner, "I think he's trying to resist arrest." The MIB smiled; it was
disturbing.
Replying, while snapping on a rubber glove pulled from his pocket, the partner added, "You
know what that means. DJ Croft, we're taking you into custody for an immediate full cavity
search."
"I gotted gunz two. Ya wanna striping me?" sayed Issei happily, still in the middle of his own
battle with Lia. "LISA!" she yelled, grabbing his skull and pounding it into the stage, "My
*smack* name *smack* is *smack* LISA! *smack*."
"No," muttered the MIB. "We want all your weapons to STAY concealed."
"Sod off coppa!", yelled DJ as he backed off searching for an escape route. Finding none, he
added, "And what'll you do if I refuse?"
"Simple," replied the MIB, unfazed. "We'll let Issei perform the search instead of us."
When confronted with the possibility of that particular horror, DJ quickly acquiesced. "I'll be
good." He was lead off by the MIBs.
---------------------
Meet the back up cast
---------------------
Maya sat at her station, staring at her readouts without seeing them. "I've got to find that
jacket that Misato was wearing, but she's gone back to wearing her regular one."
Hyuuga leaned back in his chair and looked over at Maya. "Hey, Maya, Aoba and I were
talking. He seems to have gotten two tickets to the new Dragons of Doom concert, while I have
the same number of tickets for the newest production of 'Cats'."
Maya didn't respond, still lost in thought. "It couldn't have just disappeared, where could it
be?"
Aoba, who was standing, put his hands on the back of Maya's chair. "What we're trying to say
is that we'd both like to take you out."
"That jacket is the key to everything, I must find it!" Maya still hadn't heard a word the two
had spoken, but figured she'd better say something soon to get them to leave her alone.
Hyuuga chortled. "I think what Aoba REALLY is asking is for you to ride his baloney pony."
"Okay, I'll get right on it."
Aoba choked, and Hyuuga tipped his chair over backwards.
Misato walked over and glared at the three of them. "Hey, enough with the rough-housing.
We ARE supposed to be on duty here."
Maya turned and studied her console intently, and nervously. "Oh don't worry Captain.
Nothing could be better. The sun is shining, there isn't a cloud in the sky, traffic is flowing well,
and the blue pattern is well over thirty minutes away. Blue pattern?"
Hyuuga leapt to his feet, managing to get his chair upright in the process. The command
centre became a hive of activity as Misato slapped on the alarm and started yelling orders into a
phone. "Get me the pilots!"
---------------------------------------------
To boldly go where bad taste has gone before.
---------------------------------------------
At the con, we move on from our first collection of literary atrocities, and turn our attention
back to the Palladium Pavilion. The lecturer has been delayed; again.
Wasting no time here, we turn to gaze upon the Star Trek theatrical stage. It is done up to
resemble one of the typically corny planets from the first series, plastic plants, Styrofoam rocks
and all.
Crowds gathered in front of the primary stage where Patrick Stewart plus guest were about
the appear. "Space, the final frontier." Boomed a loud voice over the sound system "These are
the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. It's 45 year syndicated mission. To explore new plot
devices. To seek out new forms of profitably. To boldly go where no fanboy has gone before."
As the theme music crescendoes, from the ceiling, a pillar of blue light and sparkly bits of paper
descended to the stage. As the light faded and the bits fell, a figure emerged to the cheer of the
crowd: Patrick Stewart, Cpt. Jean Luc Picard.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. And welcome to the Star Trek Convention."
More cheers erupted from the crowd. "That won't last long." thinks Stewart. "And now," he
announces, "the person you've all been waiting for..."
A collective "Hunh?" came from the crowd, which had assumed that everyone here was
coming to see Stewart. No guest he could bring along (save the deceased Gene Roddenberry
himself) could possibly outweigh him in terms of importance.
"Do I really have to read this piece of tripe?" he whispered off stage. A mournful nod was the
only response he received from the convention director. Aloud, "... the cutest, most talented and
most brilliant girl in all of Starfleet. My *chokes* -adopted- daughter, Marissa Picard."
Though the column of light repeated itself and Marissa emerged, only the barest smattering of
applause could be heard. She was a 16 year old blonde with her hair in a ponytail. She sported a
red command suit which was reading very high on the polyester meter. She was preternaturally
happy despite the distinct lack of enthusiasm at her appearance. "Hi everybody. And welcome to
My con! I'm Marissa Picard, and you've already met my daddy!", she glomped onto Stewart.
"Now now Marissa, it's -adopted- daddy and even then, it's only acting"
"Oh that's not important Daddy. What is important is that you and all of my fans are proud of
all my achievements; like the time you left me in charge of the Saucer Section of the Enterprise
and I saved Earth from that Cardassian invasion lead by Gul Ducat?"
"Invasion? You mean the ONE SHIP they sent to Earth? That 'invasion'?"
"Ok,.... Or what about that time I single handedly defeated the Klingon empire armed with
only the moon's gravitational pull and chewing gum?"
Patrick Stewart groaned, this was going to be a VERY long con.
-------------------------------------
Angels we have heard on,... Hi
-------------------------------------
The city sank, the Evas rose. The pilots readied themselves for battle, pulling an assortment
of weapons and implements of mass destruction from the various armament buildings. Given
that they knew the incoming vector of the angel in question (dubbed Marcel by a confused
looking Cmndr. Fuyutsuki who was reading the name off a hastily scribbled postcard), they
assumed a semicircular formation to greet the newcomer with open arms (firearms that is).
The girls took point, the rookies took inner circle and Shinji held the centre.
"Asuka," asked Misato, "You should be the first person to have visual, what does our next
contestant look like?"
Peering, she replied, "I... What the? Shinji, back me up on this."
Shinji switched to maximum magnification. "It's a ... Oh my. I um,... can't see it. Ask
someone else."
"Coward! One of you other boys must have the spine to report this."
Toji, still rubbing his face which bore a remarkably Asuka-ish slap mark responded, "I don't
see you doing it Ms. Hero."
Fed up at the dicking-around, Misato screamed "Would someone PLEASE tell me what the
heck is out there?"
"Clown." said Rei.
"What?!"
"I said it was a clown, Commander."
"You must be joking Rei."
"..."
"Right. Never mind." The visual feed from Unit 00 confirmed that none of the pilots were
losing their minds. It was a... mime.
Kensuke, as you all know, was the rookie of the bunch. His 'combat' experience was limited
to video games and Bruce Willis movies. So naturally he decided that now was the perfect
moment for a one-liner. "Well you know what they say, 'A mime is a terrible thing to waste'."
A quick debate ensued between the other Eva pilots as to which was a greater threat to
mankind; the angel, or Kensuke's sense of humour. For now, it was the angel. Volleys of
ordinance flew towards the angel from the heroes' robots. Explosions blanketed the area where
Marcel stood, obscuring him from sight. As the dust settled and the smoke cleared, Marcel
stood, unfazed, staring at his attackers. He... smiled, waved his hand at the heroes, and placed
his hands against a seemingly imaginary wall, as if trying to find the edge of it.
"It's no good Commander. Marcel has an AT field that's rivalling Ramiel, the 5th Angel's in
power. The Eva's aren't armed with anything powerful enough to match that at the moment."
Aoba said.
"That doesn't seem to discourage them, though." Hyuuga remarked, indicating the defender's
actions.
"Okay little boys, follow me..." Asuka began as she moved her Eva-scale broad axe to a more
aggressive posture in preparation for her charge. However, it wasn't to be.
"Yippie-kay-yo-ka-yay!" Kensuke yelled as he sped past Asuka's position, an Eva-scale
handgun blazing away in each fist. He didn't get very far though, as Asuka grabbed his power
cord and held him fast. He kept trying, though, and gouged out a pair of impressive ruts as she
held him.
"Listen, fanboy, I don't know who you think you are but we need to get a few things straight:
one- don't break formation, and two- around here, _I_ lead the valiant charges against
unfathomable odds, okay?" Asuka's dissertation of the virtues of a pecking order went on for a
few minutes, plenty of time for the others to casually stroll past and approach the real opponent.
Toji tapped his Eva's knuckles on Marcel's 'Invisible box'. "Well this seems pointless. It's
just sitting in there like a lump. It's not attacking, but we can't just LEAVE it in the city. Hey
Shinji, how DO you get through an AT field?"
Shinji thought about it, scratching the back of his head. "Umm, well the Positron Rifle
worked once, but usually we just use the Eva's own AT fields to counteract them." (Shinji failed
to mention that this also left the EVA's undefended to the Angels attacks, leaving much
opportunity for maiming and screaming.)
"Oh really?! Let me try that." Eva 03's hands began to pry at Marcel's field with all its might.
Marcel, with a bemused look on his face watched the hole grew to shoulder width. Then,
smiling, DoubleSlapped Toji half way across the city, right past an oblivious Asuka and
Kensuke; still arguing.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I may not be an artist but I know what I like. And this, I don't like.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Four score and seven delays later the Palladium guest of honour had finally arrived and taken
the podium. "Greeting conventioneers. My name is Wayne Breaux. You may remember me from
such fine books such as Rifts: Australia, Worldbook 17, Perspective; Who Needs it, and You
Too Can Draw Stick Figures. After my talk I'll be signing Palladium's latest book, Rifts: Canada.
This newest expansion to our line includes such additions as: Canadian Spackle Warfare, OCC
Cyber Mountie, RCC Beaver, and new weapons supplier AVRO technologies. In the meantime I
will be glad to field any questions you have. Yes sir," pointing to someone in the audience.
"What happened to the GOOD artists? You know, Long and Ewell." said undisclosed fanboy
1.
"I will be glad to field any question you have on MY work. Next question."
"Why does your work suck so much?" remarked undisclosed fanboy 2.
"I will be glad to field any intelligent questions you have. Yes sir?"
"Why is it that none of the structures you design can exist in normal 3 dimensional space?"
added undisclosed fanboy 3.
"HA-ha-ha-ha. My unique artistic style, following in the works of M.C. Escher, focuses on
unique design principles concentrating more on the aesthetics, visible to only the educated eye,
than on technical realism."
"Like I said before, how come your work sucks?" remarked undisclosed fanboy 2 again.
Mr. Breaux's curt response was interrupted by the ear splitting sound of the roof being shorn
away by Eva 04's flailing hands. Fans milled around in confusion as bits of superstructure fell on
them, killing hordes and hordes of red-shirts. Breaux, realizing that this was a cartoon fanfiction,
attempted to draw himself an escape route. However, having drawn hinges on both sides of the
door 'so it would open faster' his efforts to haul it open failed miserably. Looking up, he saw his
fate descend upon him as a piece of the con logo fell. He ended up buried beneath the last word
of "Gainax Pan-Dimensional Ultra Anime, RPG and Star Trek Con."
A costumed Star Trek fanboy witnessed the scene, stopped, turned to the camera, screwed up
his face and screamed, CONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!".
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I will survive. I will survive. As long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive..... maybe
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Eva slid black under the force of the blow, tearing up blocks of city streets. Finally, it
was brought to a halt, falling backwards to the ground. Thankfully, the remains of convention
hall cushioned the blow. "Thank god all the people were evacuated." Misato groaned.
Someone dressed as a Klingon warrior stumbled into view of the camera from the remains of
the convention hall. "Perhaps today was a good day to die. *thud*"
"Maya,... You DID evacuate the city; yes?" Inquired Ms. Katsuragi
"*mumble-mumble* Ritsuko *mumble-mumble* jacket *mumble-mumble* hot-steaming
*mumble-mumble* What? Oh yeah. I'll get right on it."
"..."
Fuyutsuki mumbled quietly to himself, "They'll need help." He pushed a button on his watch.
Off to the side of the scene outside the con. A battered Waylan Smithers could be seen
dragging an equally bruised Montgomery burns out of the convention halls remains; the latter
seemed to be regaining consciousness.
"Smithers,.... What... what happened? I can't.... quite remember..."
"We were in the convention sir. An unplanned angel attack disrupted the gathering and I had
to drag you to safety after the ceiling began to collapse, sir." Smithers replied to his employer.
"So when you grabbed me around the waist..."
"... it was just so I could hurry you to safety sir."
"And after you tripped and we fell you ripped open my shirt and ran your hands over my
chest....?"
"...Because I thought your heart had stopped and I had to administer CPR"
"So you pressing your lips against mine was"
"...an attempt to supply your lungs with oxygen sir."
"Well that explains all but two things. First, when you were trying to supply me with life
giving air, why was your tongue in my mouth?"
"Er,... Um." squirmed Smithers, "I ... had to -check-. To see, if.... your tongue had obstructed
your breathing passage."
"Yes,....", Burns only sounded partially convinced. "Very well. That explains that, but it does
not explain why you removed my thong bikini briefs."
"..."
---------------------------
More than meets the eyesore
---------------------------
Somewhere deep in American territory, three strangely dissimilar people sat around a table
in a bar. A bartender was polishing a glass off to one side. One of the three, a male with tousled
hair under a five-gallon hat, was addressing the other two. "So I says to my sister, Sis, we can't
be doing this sorta thing. What if our pappy'..."
Abruptly, klaxons began to wail. The bartender looked confused. A column of light
appeared before the trio, with a misty indistinct face suspended within.
The bartender looked very confused.
The floating head spoke, "Team Ultra Sigma Force. Our moment of greatest need has finally
arrived."
The bartender looked exceedingly confused.
"Gee-awsh darn it. It's s'bout time we had ourselves an ethnic cleansing. Hey Nunzio, is aliens
counting as ethnic?"
The gentlemen wearing a badly fitting suit (with a mysterious bulge at his left armpit),
sunglasses, a cigarette and a violin case was about to respond but was cut off by a loud, female,
"P-shaw. Like? Get off the violent bent Goober. Your whole aggression thing is upsetting my
aura. Rilly. We're supposed to champions of goodness and rightness and the American Way and
Mom's Apple Pie and, y'know, junk."
"There's no time for quarrelling, Team." The disembodied head spoke again. "The crisis is
at-"
A second, more female looking face appeared in the light. "Hey, Commander Fuyutsuki, why
are you talking to your watch?"
The first face snapped at the second, obviously agitated. "Not now! Look, I'll explain later.
Shouldn't you be watching the battle?"
The second face left, and the first again addressed the people in the bar. "Ahem, as I was
saying. The crisis is at hand. Launch immediately!"
The three leapt to their feet. "Right! Let's Go Voltron Fo-"
"HEY! You're not part of that outfit anymore." The head chided.
"Hehe. Sorry. Team Ultra Sigma Force Heroic Overblown Launch Sequence Activate!"
The bartender, now totally baffled, was about to politely ask what was going on when he, the
bottles, mirror, bar and even the stools retracted rapidly into the ceiling, revealing three
fireman-poles. The three heroes each leapt to a pole and slid out of sight.
-------------------
Of thud and blunder
-------------------
The Evas were having trouble against their latest opponent: Marcel, Angel of Facepaint. Toji
was still down from the hit he had taken earlier, and Asuka and Kensuke continued to argue
(Asuka, of course, doing most of the yelling). The city then, was in the hands of her two
competent defenders, Shinji and Rei. These two covered Marcel, trying to think of a way
through its substantial defence.
"Okay, guys," Toji's voice came over the commlink. "I'm up, and I'm coming back to- hey?"
Warning lights began to flash in the command centre. "Commander!" Hyuuga yelled "Unit
03's power cord has been cut!"
"There's another power building 200m to his left, send him there."
Toji tried to move in the direction he was given, but found himself against an invisible
barrier. "What the?" He felt around, only to find more barriers. "Aw, Crap! That stupid clown
put me in a box!"
"Toji," Misato ordered. "Go to standby mode to conserve power until we can get you out.
Aoba, status on target?"
"Good news and bad news, commander. He's advancing on Units 00 and 01, but his AT field
is down 25 percent and continuing to decline."
"REI!" Shinji's voice yelled, "Concentrate your AT Field on your power cable."
"Affirmative." she responded.
"Fields forming around units 01 and 00; they're trapped, but their power is stable. Marcel's
field is down by 75 percent and holding. Target now approaching Units 02 and 05."
Marcel was nonchalantly strolling over to the STILL ARGUING Evas. He appeared to be
studying them, ascertaining which would be the greater threat. The command staff was
screaming bloody murder, trying to grab Asuka's attention. Kensuke almost turned around to
deal with the angel but was abruptly cut off and yanked back by the irate red-head, "YOU LOOK
AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU MISTER!".
Misato hung her head, "We're all... going to die."
Hyuuga, "But wait, up in the sky."
Aoba, "It's ... a bird?"
"No, it's a plane." Hyuuga argued.
"It's... a hotdog cart?" Maya rubbed her eyes and took another look.
"No," Aoba pointed at the monitor "see, it's just carrying the cart."
"Oh, okay then... WHAT?" Maya checked her displays. "The radar shows that cart as being
larger than this room!"
"Damn, that's a big bird." Aoba shook his head in wonder.
"Look, I'm telling you it's a plane."
"Its got a beak and talons! It's a bird!"
"Its got jet engines and an 'I Love New York' bumper sticker on its tail. It's a plane!"
While the debate raged on, the new combatants entered the killing zone. Dropping the
massive Hot-Dog cart (which used its umbrella to slow its descent) at a strategic point, the
7-winged Phoenix circled around to assess the situation. A third vehicle entered the fray, a
seemingly nondescript red Mustang convertible. The driver, an attractive blonde woman in a
spandex jumpsuit (colour coordinated with the car) let her hair blow free in the wind as she
raced towards the battle.
The Phoenix made a strafing run on Marcel, covering the Hot-Dog cart's advance. Now in
range, the titanic barbeque opened. "Take this, ya big polecat! Sigma Solar Grill Fire!"
Massive gouts of flame bathed Marcel, but were held back by its AT field. Marcel placed the
palms of its hands against its cheeks and formed its lips into a moue of false horror.
"I tinks we's should be teaching dis gentleman a lessons in respect." Nunzio grated. He then
fired of a massive volley of missiles, which spiralled erratically towards the Angel, and had
about as much effect as you would expect.
The sports car drove around Marcel's feet, annoyingly. (What did you expect it to do? It's a
Ford!)
In the command centre, Hyuuga turned to Aoba. "Five hundred yen says they all buy it in five
minutes."
Aoba grinned. "I'll say four... and it's a bird."
"This is like, sooo not working! We've got to like, be more pro-active or some junk!"
With a cry of "Team Ultra Sigma Titan Combination Force Activate!" the three vehicles
converged. With a whirr of motors, flashes of light, lots of speed lines and a great deal of stock
footage, the three machines transformed and combined into a titanic humanoid robot. With a
Phoenix's head and wings, a body composed of a VERY transformed Hot-Dog cart and one very
sporty red shoe, the robot brandished the folded umbrella at Marcel. The sun glinted off the
parasol with a nice sounding -gleam-.
Marcel, almost collapsing with silent laughter at this point, casually waved one hand at the
machine, using its AT field to hurl debris at the robot.
"Quick! Deploy the shield!" The umbrella popped open, deflecting most of the rubble.
However, it was badly torn.
"Youse lousy lowest biddahs! We's gotta counter-attack! Go Rocket Punch!" The
war-machine launched its fists in a blaze of glory. Marcel dodged. The fists continued on their
merry way, spiralling aimlessly through the air.
"Isn't dey's supposed ta come back?" Nunzio sweated.
"So, like, what do we do now, genius? I got no plan, 'kay?"
"Well, I reckon we're screwed, m'self."
Not wanting to prove the Texan wrong, Marcel strode forward and drove his hand into the
robot's Hot-Dog cart torso. Secondary explosions wracked the body, bits and pieces of the
mighty combiner began to fall away.
-------------------
Scotty beam her up.
-------------------
Chaos and anarchy reigned; it was an equal opportunity monarchy. Girders and concrete were
falling everywhere. Innocent and unaccounted-for extras were being taken down faster than the
disposable ninjas from Chapter One. For some strange reason, a disturbingly large percentage of
these casualties happened to be red-shirts from the old Star Trek series, but that wasn't
important... at the moment.
What WAS important was that the uberspawn of Stephen Ratliff's imagination,
Marissa Picard was still scampering for her life on the stage with actor Patrick Stewart. "Daddy,
Daddy! You've got to get us out of here!" bawled the uncharacteristically phased teen.
"Forget it kid, you're on your own." replied Stewart curtly. "Number One, prepare one to...
Wait!" Stewart made a double take, looking at some point just beyond Marissa. He smiled
impishly. "Very well. Make that two to beam aboard. Scotty, beam her up."
Marissa was grateful and confused at the same time. She was being saved,... but why on Earth
was Captain Picard calling for Scotty. Scotty was in the first series but not... *WA-TAK*... Her
logic'ing was cut short as a stealthy James Doohan had snuck up behind her and smacked her
upside the head with a two-by-four, then pulled a red first-series security uniform over her head,
pinning her arms.
"Well done Mr. Scott. Enterprise, beam myself and Mr. Scott aboard. The situation has been
resolved." And with bottled, stock footage effects, the actors were transported away from the
stage to live happier lives in the world of syndicated reruns.
As for what happened to dear little Marissa?.... Well, we couldn't say for sure, for as Picard
and Scotty beamed out, a large Styrofoam rock landed in front of Marissa, completely obscuring
her from view. We heard some screams and witnessed a great deal of sharp, pointy wreckage fall
behind the rock (and perhaps witnessed the occasional limb fly in our direction), but we may
never know for sure....
------------------
Rapid scene change
------------------
"Hey! Don't you go a-grabbin my buns! Stop that! L'eggo mah wiener! That just ain't right!
I'll sick the Baptist church on y'all!"
Everyone, both NERV staff and pilots, could only stare as Marcel fixed himself a Eva scale
lunch from his opponent.
"Shinji?" asked Rei
"Yes Rei?" he replied
"Your Eva is drooling."
"I know."
"It's disturbing. Can you make it stop?"
"Have I ever been able to make it stop before? OH MY GOD!"
"What is it doing now?"
"It's got the sauerkraut!"
Toji, whose communication was still active intoned "You mean Asuka?"
"WHAT?! Someone dares to insult the great Asuka Langley Soryuu?! They will pay!" Asuka,
finally broken from her discussion with Kensuke, charged into battle (finally), knocking the
aforementioned rookie to the ground.
As expected, her charge was short lived as Marcel quickly boxed her in with 59.9999 seconds
(and counting) of power remaining.
"Schiesse!"
"Welcome to the one-minute club 'hero'." mocked Toji.
Misato raised her head from her hands. "Are we dead yet?"
"No, and target's AT field is now at 0 strength." Maya replied.
"That's GOOD!"
"But we only have one Eva left who can save us.....and it's Kensuke."
"That's bad."
-----------------------
The silence of the hams
-----------------------
The convention was going to hell in hand basket; Issei felt quite at home. Despite the fact that
the walls were crumbling around them, and the fans had run for cover, he was still busy fighting
Lisa. No headway was to be gained against her though as she effortlessly blocked his strikes and
lunges with her AT field.
Though thick, neither of the avatars were blind. They could clearly see that their battlefield
was decaying rapidly and that a more auspicious location was in order.
"Weed butter furnish dis out-snide." Issei sayed.
Lisa, after taking a moment to decipher Issei's request nodded her agreement. Any further
reply she could have made was struck dumb as huge fragments of the ceiling tore away and
plummeted downward.
Issei, not one to be daunted by something as trivial as a life or death situation, simply
attempted to parry the oncoming rubble. Unfortunately, parrying rubble is about as effective as
trying to cuddle with a cactus.
Realizing that she could not outrun the oncoming debris, Lisa raised her hand above her,
placing her AT field in a protective way to create a ceiling of shimmering power above her. The
effort rooted her to her present location while holding the tonnes of detritus at bay. As such, this
was a really inconvenient time for her. She'd just flown in for the convention, the airline placed
her luggage on a flight to Bangladesh, she'd lost her Expressly American Traveller's Cheques,
and there was about 30 tonnes of debris floating above her head. What else could go wrong?
Her cell phone rang. Snapping it open with her free hand she yelled into it, "What the hell do
you want? Who ever it is you'd better have a damn good reason for calling."
"Ma'am, this is your not-so-friendly AT&T operator calling. I'm calling to inform you that
your last cheque has bounced and we can no longer continue to provide service to you unless you
can provide us with money immediately."
Lisa stared at her phone in astonishment. "Y'know buddy, now is REALLY not a good time.
*Click*"
Back in the phone centre, a young disgruntled employee thought to himself. "Oh-ho! So
you're too good to pay your bills eh? We'll see about that." Clicking on his screen he pulled up
Ms. Foster's file. Looking over her list of services he began to systematically deactivate them.
AT&T Cell phone service: Removed.
AT&T pager service: Removed.
AT&T long distance rate service: Removed.
AT Field service...? "Field? I don't remember anyone mentioning that as a service we offered.
Oh well, if we offer it, I can stop it right?": Removed.
Our minor peon of the great phone entity revelled in his act of empowerment. As the powers
that had granted her were instantly revoked, he could almost hear the customer screaming in
agony.
Pretty close to the truth actually. Life was good.
---------------
Dial K for Hero
---------------
It was a classic western standoff. If possible, we'd even include an Eva scale tumbleweed to
roll across the screen. There stood Kensuke, faced with Marcel about a mile in front of him. The
combiner robot was now little more than a broken tin wind-up toy. Eva 05's one solid eye stared
out at Marcel uncaringly. In each of his Eva's hands were one of the pistols from earlier, held at
his sides. Marcel mimicked his stance and waited.
Kensuke drew.
Marcel drew.
Kensuke fired,.... but was out of ammo.
Marcel fired,.... but had no guns, so just wiggled his thumbs threateningly.
"Kensuke," boomed Maya's voice over the com "He can't use his powers because his AT
Field is busy holding down the others. There's a weapons building 3 klick to your east. Head
there."
Kensuke charged off to the right. Marcel mirrored his opponent's actions, blocking him from
his destination.
Kensuke came to an abrupt halt. Marcel mirrored his opponent's action.
Kensuke, dropping his empty pistols, waved at his opponent.
Marcel waved back, a smile on his face.
"Commander, I have a plan." said Kensuke. And then, he began to dance.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Who's afraid of the big bad Croft ... or .... Hey DJ, check this out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
The dance of Shiva could be seen mirrored in the tortured cries of the populous that was now
trying to hastily exit the scene of utter destruction that was the former Convention Centre. DJ
Croft was among those who had managed to escape earlier on. However, unlike the wise people
who had run for the cover of shelters built for such emergencies, DJ had found a suitable perch
from which to observe the battle. It was a large cylinder designed for the storage of highly
explosive gasses. DJ felt perfectly safe atop it, of course. The battle was still about a mile away,
and this post afforded him an excellent view of the carnage. Secretly he was hoping Eva-01
would crash down near him so that he could pilot it and single handedly defeat the angel and
establish himself as the ultimate Avatar to date.
As fate (or plot contrivance, call it what you wish) would have it, one of the combiner's
rocket fists took a convenient turn in its wanderings. Still blasting alcohol rocket flames, it
landed right at the base of propane tank. DJ could only cast a Wile E. Coyote'esque glance at the
camera before rocketing off into the cosmos.
But THIS was DJ CROFT, no mere mortal accident could kill him. The explosion high into
the air and out over the ocean. He rode the shockwave of the blast like a surfer; a piece of scrap
metal sufficing for a board. Out, out, out he flew, past Japan, over Australian territorial waters
and into the Great Barrier Reef.
The impact with the waters was not as bone jarring or as life threatening as expected. In fact,
he survived with nary a scratch on him. Well,... ok. He did have one minor cut and some
bleeding. In and of itself the cut wasn't fatal. However, the school of hungry Great White sharks
that had been drawn by the smell of his blood were much less generous than we were.
----------------------------
Last of the red-hot cloggers
----------------------------
"I'll kill him. No judge will convict me. I could hide the body." Misato was uttering
incomprehensible hate to herself. The focus of her frustration was Kensuke who was engaging
Marcel in a most unexpected contest.
"I'm afraid to look, Hyuuga" Aoba had his hands over his eyes. "Is he still doing it?"
"I'm afraid so, buddy."
Kensuke was trying to out-dance Marcel. They had started with Irish folk dancing, proceeded
to disco, and had just recently degenerated to the Hokey-Pokey. All this traipsing around didn't
seem to serve any purpose, though Unit 05 was now within an easy arms reach of the 32nd
Angel.
"Aha!" Kensuke chortled, "He fell for it! Now I strike!" With a blur of motion, Unit 05's
arm shot up... and honked Marcel's nose.
"That's IT?" Misato screamed. "We've been watching you trip over the light fantastic for ten
minutes so you could beep his honker? THAT was your PLAN?"
"Commander!" Maya interrupted. "The Angel is reeling!"
"What?!"
"It seems to have taken very real damage from Kensuke's 'attack'." Maya scanned some more
readouts. "Commander, the nose is its core!"
"All right," Kensuke cracked his knuckles. "Let's get bizzay. EVA DUBLIN
HANDSHAKE!!" Wrapping Unit 05's fingers into Marcel's 'hair' Kensuke repeatedly drove his
machine's forehead into the Angel's unprotected nose/core. After a dozen titanic impacts, he let
go, leaving Marcel to stumble backwards, and fall onto its back.
Reaching into a nearby weapons building, Kensuke retrieved a rifle, but gripped it by the
barrel. Placing one of his Eva's feet on Marcel's chest, Kensuke lined the butt of the gun up
against the Angel's core, taking a couple of practice swings. "Looks like I get a birdie." he
quipped, driving the nose/core right out of the city, and shattering it into pieces. The
fatally-wounded Angel grabbed futilely at Unit 05's leg, then collapsed into a pool of
cheerfully-coloured goo.
"Told you it was a bird." Aoba smirked.
-------------------------------
C'est Fini
-------------------------------
Wah. That was a big one. We're sorry this part took so long to be finished, but it IS twice as
big as the others. We didn't realize we were promising so much at the end of part 3, or that it
would require so much work to meet those requirements. A heatwave and no air conditioning
also made writing this part less fun than the others, but we still laughed our asses off. We hope
you liked it too.
Commentary, as always, can be sent to evansjt@interlog.com or laughlin@accessv.com. No,
we still don't have a website, but previous chapters are on the RAAC archives
(ftp://ftp.cs.ubc.ca/pub/archive/anime-fan-works/). MSTings of those chapters are available on
Shinji's Vault of Anime MSTings.
We're still accepting entries for the "name the last angel" contest. C'mon people, get the grey
matter working. Use alcohol if necessary. ;)
Part 5 should be ready in less time than this one, because we're not promising anything this
time. [chuckles]