Ed. note. Are you enjoying this series? Are you even reading it? Are you on perscription medication? Drop me a note at twoflowr@pixelscapes.com (not the address this was sent from) and let me know. I always like to dip the oil and see how many folks are looking at my stuff. ^_^
Remember, the webpage has the most up to date information on the series, and also has entrance themes, bios, and news on upcoming material.
-=-
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the new generation of
anime sports-entertainment
==--------------------==
/ MTCFF \
| . . +-- |
< |\ | +- >
| | \|E O | I G H T E R S |
\ ` ` ` /
==--------------------==
an Ultra production
http://www.mtcffultra.com/
Episode #2: Zen and the Art of Self Promotion
booked by stefan gagne
w/commercial programming by jesse ellman
and special guest booker eternal lost lurker
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thursday night, as the cabalists gather.
They gather from the four corners of Tokyo. They stalk silently through
the still streets of midnight. The cars on the road barely notice these
figures, moving like shadows in the anti-silence of the city... an aura of
mystery following behind them, curling like smoke in fog.
These unknowns, these strange ones gather with purpose. They meet in
the basement of a small beatnik cafe, giving the secret sign, gaining
entrance to this sacred and hallowed hideout. They are united, they are one
with a singular common goal :
Being Ultra Otaku.
"OOSHA!" the five guys taunted each other, a circle of joined mighty
forearms. "Alt.fan.Ultra, Tokyo Circle, Mighty Taunting Division! BEGIN!"
Satoshi never thought of himself as particularly old, but compared to
THESE guys he was Whistler's Mother. This crazy bunch of teenagers, dressed
in matching 'I'm a Dan Fan!' t-shirts that didn't quite cover their pudgy
bellies. Each with that loose, somewhat crazed disconnection from reality
that he'd recognized in otaku who came to his cable station looking for the
TV stars. Each smelling like showering is a sort of yearly holiday.
"Dudes," The Dude spoke, with grave tones of righteous seriousness, "I
have called you here to bear witness to a most heinous action by the Tyrant
Tendo. I bring with me the noble hero of NeoFighters, Sichi Satoshi!"
"...uh, hi," Satoshi greeted -- and then went into a minor panic attack
when he found the otaku all gathering around him, bowing as if he was the
Emperor.
"Most totally radical Satoshi-san!" the High Priest Otaku beseeched.
"It is an honor to have you in our presence! May we just say that
NeoFighters yesterday TOTALLY got the party started!"
"Ah, that's good, right?"
"Indeed," The Dude said sagely. "But the party may be halted by Tendo
soon, if our ratings do not rise like the glory of Mt. Fuji!"
(He doesn't talk this dramatically on the job, Satoshi mused. Must be a
strange fandom thing.)
"Unthinkable!" a Minor Shub-Otaku gasped. "Curse that infernal Tendo
creature! How she does pluck the joy from our souls like so many... uh... so
many... IT SUCKS! It TOTALLY sucks! We gotta do something!"
"Be cool, o Ultra devotees!" The Dude pleaded. "All will become groovy
and smooth once more. All we need is a 1.0 rating to survive, and jeez, that
stupid game show with the electric cattle prod gets more than that! But the
problem is Nabiki hasn't done JACK (not the most revered Controversial One)
to promote the show, and that makes Satoshi-san very ANGRY!"
"I'm not that angry, really," Satoshi corrected. "I'm not a very angry
person, I mean. Uh. Not usually."
"WORK WITH HIM, DAISUKE!" the entire group chanted in unison.
Sichi got the urge to flee for the nearest exit.
"Okay, so maybe he's not billowing with dramatic rage but you guys get
my drift," The Dude corrected, a little annoyed at Satoshi not playing along.
"So. It is our divine duty to correct this! We need a PLAN!"
"A PLAN!" they echoed.
"So what's the plan?" the Minor Shub-Otaku added.
"Don't worry, I got it all figured out," The Dude said... pulling out a
spiral notebook. (Satoshi raised an eyebrow. That was HIS usual method of
organizing thoughts -- was his excitable young technical director emulating
him?) "The key, my comrades, is MEDIA INFESTATION. Much like the
Controversial One and the Holy Order of CHAOS, we too shall saturate Tokyo
with our message of hype! Websites! Flyers dropped from tall buildings!
Special offers! Word of mouth! We have six days, my fine friends, to make
NeoFighters the talk of the town. Suggested actions?"
"I'll get Lain to forward me data on the show for making a NeoFighters
website," a Secondary Supporting Otaku stated. "I can't believe Nabiki
didn't make you guys a site. A few mentions in UltraMagazine aren't going to
do it."
"I shall commandeer my doughnut shop and offer free refills to folks who
say 'NeoFighters Rules!'" the Minor Shub-Otaku declared.
But the High Priest Otaku had them all beat.
"I'll post about it on SLASHDOT," he intoned.
A muted sound of reverence filled the tiny basement.
"A most RIGHTEOUS plan, my brothers!" The Dude yelled out in delight.
"This calls for a round of TAUNTING!"
As the cries of 'Oosha' and 'Oyaji' filled the air, Sichi went for his
headache medicine. This was not a good experience to go through without some
kind of hard drugs.
An hour later, after the fandom circle had broken so everybody could be
home before curfew, Satoshi was on the road and driving The Dude back to the
NeoDome.
"Er... forgive me for asking, but all that was positive, right?" Satoshi
asked, glancing over at the oddball youth in his passenger seat, who was busy
drumming on the dashboard to the tune of KMFDM's "Ultra" on the radio.
"Yeah, it's cool," The Dude replied. "Those guys spook you? They're
just fans. Fans can be kinda fanatical. I think it's cause, uh... fanatical
means fans. It's a word thing. Hey, you thought any about next week's card?
I can get it on the circle's listserv, add some promotional weight."
Sichi slumped a bit behind the wheel. "I've been too busy to think
about it. But I've got some time. It's not like everything will get changed
on the fly again, after all! No, this week I'm putting my shoe down. Err,
my foot. Right."
"Wicked," The Dude said in admiration, before resuming his manic
drumming.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday night, and for a change, Ayane had something to do with her time
other than hang out in her pajamas while eat Lucky Charms and watching reruns
of shoujo anime.
Normal guys would give you a phone call. Modern guys would drop you an
e-mail. Li Ping chose to shoot an arrow into the front door of her apartment
with a painstakingly handbrushed scroll wrapped around it. Once she got over
the shock of a foreigner having better skill with calligraphy than she did,
the message sunk in.
'Ayane Shibou. Please meet me at 3704 Cherry Blossom Street, Friday
night, 8pm. I require your assistance in my training! Li Ping.'
The problem, of course, was that Ayane knew nothing about martial arts.
She thought she'd made this clear to the boy on Wednesday night, but maybe it
hadn't sunk in? She would call him to clarify, but he didn't leave a phone
number. So, she had no choice but to go along with it. Perhaps bring a
purse with some utensils and fixings in case he needed something to eat after
a strenuous workout. Hopefully all he needed was someone to hold the sandbag
still, or something...
Confusion rose like a hot air balloon when she arrived a few minutes
early at the address and found herself standing outside an old movie theatre.
Right at the stroke of eight, Li was there, jogging around the corner in more
ordinary street clothes, rather than any fighting ensemble.
"Hi! Sorry I'm late!" he apologized. "Mom made me take out the trash.
Good to see you again! Are you ready?"
"Uh... ready for what?" Ayane asked, curious.
"Training, of course!" Li said, tossing a few play punches at the air.
"I need to sharpen up to be ready for the next NeoFighters, and this
theatre's showing a martial arts festival! Fist of Legend! Drunken Master!
Enter the Dragon!"
"Oh, right!" she replied, realizing. "You do movie fighting! I almost
forgot. Heh. I was figuring you needed me for a sparring partner or
something.... er. Wait, why do you need me at all to watch a movie?"
"Ah..." Li said, pausing in his shadowboxing. "I figured... you might
want to see a movie and have popcorn? I mean... you know..."
She almost laughed out loud, but that would've been terribly impolite.
He was asking her out on a date! In his own absurd little way, of course.
There was something childish, something ridiculous, but so curiously innocent
about it... it just made her fell nice all over. Like cooking a really good
batch of onion rings...
"You know? I'd love some popcorn," Ayane found herself saying.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of course... the problem with the way he was approaching this date was
that it wasn't romantic at all.
It wasn't that he wasn't fun to be with. The way he mimicked the moves
on screen quietly, and grinned when the hero won the day was really
charming... but either he didn't actually realize he was on a date, or didn't
want to admit it. He hadn't even gone for the arm around the shoulder (not
that it would've been proper).
In a way, Ayane didn't mind. She had popcorn, she had a new friend to
spend time with, and the movies WERE terribly exciting. You can't go wrong
with that combination, even if it wasn't exactly like a scene out of a shoujo
anime.
In fact, the movie was being exciting. It was enthralling. She'd never
really watched martial arts movies before... not because she wasn't
interested, she just never had the opportunity. But watching these guys do
kick flips and cartwheels and amazing counterattacks left and right, front to
back, faster than the eye... she could see why Li idolized these guys. They
had strength and power, but without being jerks about it like a lot of the
people in NeoFighters were. (Except for the bad guys, but they were always
beaten because their Kung Fu was Insufficient and they had Strayed From the
Way.)
Technically, she was on the NeoFighters roster, even if she'd probably
never work a match in her life. But briefly, she entertained the daydream of
herself in that movie, kicking butt in sixty seven different ways at once.
And it was a pretty nice daydream, at that...
Which popped, when she found she was being talked to. She could make
out the guy sitting in front of her in the dim light from the movie screen...
some teenage delinquent.
"Hey, didn't I see you on TV?" he asked, ignoring the 'please be quiet'
law of the movie theatre. Fortunately, other than this group and a few
scattered movie patrons, there wasn't anybody to hear.
Being polite, Ayane answered. "In NeoFighters? Yes, although I won't
be fighting again--"
"You woulda gotten your ass KICKED!" he joked. "The hell are you doing
on that show, anyway? Only REAL fighters go to Ultra, not wussy little
chicks like you."
No need to take offense. No need, she thought. She knew she wasn't
strong. Although the 'little chick' part was grating... no, no need to make
a scene...
"Yes, thank you," she thanked, even if she had nothing to be thankful
for. "Excuse me, I'm trying to watch the movie. Thank you."
Of course, he didn't let it go at that. That would be sensible.
Instead he nudged his buddies sitting near him, to watch the taunting
continue. "Hey, it's okay! I like wussy little chicks. You can put mustard
on MY hot dog any time--"
This time, Li Ping had torn his entranced eyes off the screen, and had
them locked firmly on the punk. "EXCUSE me," he said, with far more force
than Ayane had managed. "But we are trying to watch the movie. Kindly sit
down, sir."
"Hey, it's you!" the guy recognized. "Hey, hey, gang, get a load; it's
the Leaping guy! The one who got his ass handed to him by the old fart!
C'mon, Leap Year, let's see those mad skills of yours!"
Ayane tensed. "Li..."
"It's okay, it's okay," he assured her. "I follow the way of harmony.
I feel no burning need to reeducate these mistaken ones. Just ignore them,
Ayane."
The lead punk scoffed. "You ignorin' us, kid? Don't you know who we
are? Don't you know who we are tight with?" He poked a finger into Li's
chest. "You best be--"
Li's sleeve (and the rest of his arm) twisted around and snapped into
position, as he grasped the finger and bend it sharply away. Crack.
"AAGH!" the punk shrieked, falling backwards.
"...okay, maybe I have a SLIGHTLY burning desire," Li admitted. "An
unfortunately common human failing. But the rest of you would do best to sit
down and be silent, so we can enjoy the teachings of master Jet Li, yes?"
As if. The three punks were now on their feet, and looking like they
were ready for trouble. Ayane glanced around worriedly, hoping there was an
usher nearby -- when actually the theatre had completely cleared out. People
knew a bad situation when they saw one, and wanted nothing to do with this.
The leader shook his hand out, which did nothing to cease the throbbing
in his digits. "We... are gonna REALLY mess you two u--"
Li, not being a moron, attacked while the punk was taunting. Propping
up on his arms, Li flipped his legs up, locked them around the goon's head
and tossed him backwards two rows in a surprising demonstration of
flexibility. And the fight was on.
And Ayane bailed immediately, of course. She dove dramatically from her
seat to the safety of the aisle and crawled away, exit on her mind... but
paused. She hid behind a seat, to watch the fight. Some queer part of her
wanted to see the outcome, like she wanted to watch the fights in the
movies... see the hero trounce the bad guys.
Trouncing was out in spades, of course. The goons were apparently
armed; bicycle chain, lead pipe. Li dodged and weaved by tumbling back and
forth over the rows of seats, while the thugs went through the awkwardly slow
process of climbing over the backs of movie seating.
Grinning internally, she cheered him on and watched until one of the
thugs stumbled across her hiding place. Then things got a little TOO
exciting.
Already a bit punch drunk from the fight, he made a lunging grab for
her. Ayane was not the sort to have instant reflexes in the face of danger,
but she did have that instinct all humans have to LIVE... the same one that
made her squirt mustard in a Scotsman's face caused her to bop the guy over
the head with her popcorn box.
Which did nothing, of course. But it stunned him long enough for her to
yank a bottle of J.R.'s Red Hot Barbeque Sauce from her purse (which was
loaded with goodies in case Li needed a snack after 'exhaustive training',
she recalled) and lob it at him before running for it.
Much screaming and clawing at the eyes later, Ayane wondered if they
should market the stuff for self defense purposes as well as making a killer
steak. Smoke curdled as skin crackled under eleven Oklahoman herbs and
spices, the condiment attacking the thug better than a quarter pound Del
Monaco beef slab.
The thug wiped most of the sauce out of his eyes (burning his fingers in
the process), before rejoining his battered and bruised comrades. "We'll get
you for this!" he declared. "Wait'll I tell the boss--"
Li sprang out from behind a row, bounced off the thug's head and landed
on his feet near Ayane. The thug toppled into his friend's arms, and all
three beat a hasty retreat to the clearly marked emergency exits.
Smiling in victory, Li tossed his ponytail over one shoulder, before
checking up on Ayane. "You okay? I'm so sorry, I was busy with a two on one
fight, or I'd have jumped to your rescue--"
"No, it's okay," Ayane said... smiling. "It really is. I handled it.
I got him! I--"
"I think we'd better get out of here before the cops come," Li said
quietly. "Er. My mom would be real upset if I showed up on the five o'clock
news. I'll see you at NeoFighters on Wednesday, right?"
"Right!" Ayane said. "Ah. See you there! Um. I had fun, until I
stopped having fun."
"Works for me!" Li decided. He bowed once, hands together, then jumped
in the air and did not come down.
He DOES know how to make an entrance, Ayane mused. An exit, too.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saturday night, 57 channels and nothing on. Click. Click.
Kisei Kenji liked her hovel away from home. It had all the right
fixings to be her ideal hangout... it was a dank, decrepit, and in danger of
being condemned any day now. It mirrored her usual dark mood and suited her
just fine.
The problem was that she never spent several days here. When you do,
you start noticing the little things that go beyond moody and symbolic and
into plain old annoying. Roaches behind the fridge. Rotted floorboards to
step through and twist your ankle on. The way the kid in the building next
door would constantly blast N'Sync songs with her window open. Things like
that.
She could always head home. Mend the fences, apologize to her sister,
bear Mom's wrath. Kisei wasn't really angry anymore; her rage came and went,
much like the tides. She wasn't too happy at being on contract with Ultra,
but she could handle that in her own way, in her own time. But going home,
retracting everything, looking weak and wrong in the eyes of her EVER so
annoyingly strong mother... no. She couldn't do it.
This is why she was thrilled when Keiko came knocking to do it for her.
"Maybe I pushed it too soon," Keiko explained, pleading her case with
someone who had already agreed, but wouldn't show they were on the same page
yet. "I mean, I never asked if you wanted to be in Ultra and even if I think
it's a really great sisterly bonding thing, I don't want you upset about it,
so... maybe it's best if we work separately for awhile at this new job?"
"I guess," Kisei replied in an apathetic way while toggling channels,
while sighing in relief on the inside.
"Mom wants you to come home. She's not mad. ...okay, she's mad, but
I'll handle her," Keiko corrected. "I know you two don't get along, so let
me take the brunt of this for you. Please?"
"You get along fine with her, I doubt you'll have much brunt to take,
whatever a 'brunt' is," Kisei replied honestly... clicking the television
off. "Okay. Just promise me you won't mess in my business in NeoFighters
unless I want you to?"
"I promise, I promise!" her sister quickly said, smiling (and bouncing)
in glee. "Anything it takes! I know we can work this out and I bet we'll be
grand champions! Even if we're not a tag team. Okay?"
"I guess," Kisei repeated. "Okay. But I've got stuff to do. I'll be
home tomorrow."
"Stuff? What stuff? Can I help?"
"Demon stuff," Kisei said, grinning. "Unholy summonings and black magic
and unthinkable ritual."
"You can't scare me, you know," Keiko chided. "I know you're just into
that stuff to make Mom mad. ...err. What have you been summoning, exactly?
If it gets loose you know I'm going to have to fight it, as my honorable
duty--"
"Relax, no tentacular beasts will be tearing off what you call clothing
anytime soon," Kisei said, getting up and stretching out. "Actually, it's
the damnedest thing. I can't summon anything. Haven't been able to for
days. I better not have lost the knack."
"You can do it, sis! Call those powers! Summon that devil! Fight
fight fight!" Keiko cheered, waving around a pair of pom-poms while her pom-
poms bounced.
"...right," Kisei said.
Keiko scared HER sometimes, even if Keiko wasn't scared of her. She
grumbled in frustration, turning her mind away from the cheerleading... and
back to her ritual space. It was smelling funny lately. Like dried blood...
but each time she tried, no matter how hard, nothing came.
She could FEEL something waiting in the wings. It was like fishing...
you cast the line, you feel a pull and reel in... usually a small imp or
other useless subcreature. This felt like she'd hooked a great white shark.
Maybe after a full night's casting she could reel it in, and see what she was
dealing with... then she could head home, after unsummoning it. No big deal.
Definitely a nice challenge, a nice change of pace. Nothing scary about it.
Nothing at all.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
And before you knew it, it was Wednesday again.
This time, things were different. NeoFighters wasn't quite the talk of
the town, but it was definitely the talk of Shinjuku. Word had gotten
around. Websites were visited. Slashdot geeks had arrived. Many people got
free refills at a local doughnut shop just for saying they would attend the
event.
More importantly, more televisions were tuned into the show that night,
if just to see what the big deal was. Satoshi didn't know that for a fact,
but he felt he had a sixth sense about feeling the vibe of sports-
entertainment, and it was ringing true tonight. (He was not, thankfully,
seeing dead people. Except for himself if the ratings didn't go up.)
One factor making it all golden was the booking sheet. He'd planned
everything out to a T. Every segment written out, every fight, minutes
allocated, perfectly fitting into the time available. The Dude was ready and
primed. The new fighters Nabiki had shipped over were warming up, and the
new This Old Dojo Medical Unit (on loan) was ready to deal with any
situation. Finally, Akari had promised to drink a little less. Golden, just
golden.
Then The Great Yaga arrived in the building.
"Satoshi-san! It's good to see you again!" Yaga boomed loudly enough to
make Sichi nearly wet his pants. "So! What's on the docket tonight, eh? I
am ready to defend my belt in glorious combat!"
"Ah.. you're in the main event, sir!" Satoshi said. He knew better than
to book Yaga anywhere else. "Defending your title in what's sure to be an
amazing fight! It was the highest rated quarter hour last week, so I figured
a rematch would--"
"A rematch?" Yaga asked, losing his good cheer. "A rematch against the
KID?"
Oh hell, here it goes, Satoshi whined internally. He would've put his
foot down... if his legs hadn't turned to jelly.
"Who's booked for the first segment?" Yaga asked, tempering his voice.
"Ah... well, there's this title fight--"
"It can wait," Yaga decided, snatching a microphone from the sound guy's
table. "I have matters to address. Excuse me."
The Dude peeked over from his position, tangled up in cables and
wrangling with the audio board. "Uh, Yaga-san... you may not want to go out
there RIGHT now."
Yaga turned on him like a rotary saw. "Reason being, kid?"
Explosions rocked the NeoDome as the opening fireworks went off.
"Just that," The Dude said. Loudly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The budget hadn't actually gone up, but the Ultra Otaku Circle knew
where to get cheap fireworks overseas on the Internet. A few customs
wranglings and creative computer tricks and NeoFighters now had entrance pyro
that almost rivalled Ultra's, if not for scaling down to accomodate the small
size of the NeoDome.
Still, it was a visual masterpiece. Yellow flares roared from the
entrance stage, while sparks rained down in slow motion like a kickass action
movie. Crisscrossing rockets shot from floor to ceiling, tracing screwball
patterns in the air before exploding harmlessly in the lighting grid and
doing a chunk of damage which would have to be quietly buried in the books to
avoid the wrath of Tendo.
This week, the crowd was thicker. Some had signs pledging allegiance to
fan favorites... including the Great Yaga, seeing as how the audience had no
idea what a right bastard he was backstage. Surprisingly, there were no
signs mocking Long Dong Wang... mostly because a small cluster of teens in
leather jackets were glaring sharply at anybody who tried to hold one up, in
a way that suggested it was in your best interests to put it back down.
Akari stood in the ring (safe from the explosives), and blew some
quickly-becoming-trademark kisses to the crowd. She'd decided to get a
little more tasteful, so this dress had a few extra square inches of fabric,
despite being thinner than her previous one.
"HELLLOOOO everybody, and welcome to NEOFIGHTERS!" she called out.
"Damn, if you guys thought last week was something else, this week will be
something other than something else entirely! We've got a great show for
you, folks, which will hopefully not suck! Starting off, we'll be finally
deciding the NeoJapan champion once and--"
Her mike cut out just as the macho iron-pumping testosterone laced
triumphant music of The Great Yaga hit. He entered, and cupped and ear to
the crowd... and was satisfied with the light wave of cheers he got. Much
better. They would soon learn to respect Yaga...
"Most honored friends!" Yaga began, since this was now officially his
show and nobody was going to tell him to shut it. "I greet you all one week
from my triumphant match, where I, your paragon of virtue, was crowned
NeoWorld Champion! Thank you, thank you. My pure burning spirit could only
be possible with the support of the terrific fans of Shinjuku, and this win
is very much yours as well as mine!"
"Cheap pop," Akari muttered under the cheer of the crowd, knowing her
microphone was now dead. She stepped aside, to allow Yaga room to get into
the ring; he was a big man, and while she normally approved of extremely
large men wearing tights, she did not like to be interrupted before she could
flirt with the crowd.
"Before we get to the honorable fighting action," Yaga continued, "I
would like to address the issue of the number one contender for my title.
Will the nice young man named Li Ping please join me in the ring?"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Li had dropped from the
lighting grid above, twisting once in the air before landing perfectly on one
turnbuckle. The crowd roared in appreciation; after all, needlessly putting
your neck on the line just to have a flashy entrance never went out of style.
"Oi, ji-san!" Li called out, smiling. "You had a great fight last week.
Can you do it again? I'm calling you out for that title! I've been training
extensively and--"
"Now now, hold on a minute, please," Yaga beseeched. "Young man, you're
rather new at this, yes? Perhaps you don't understand the way the sport
works. I've been working the ring since before you were born -- not that I'm
past my prime, mind you -- and I know the ropes. You do not. When you
challenge for the title and lose, that means you go back to the bottom rung,
lad. You don't get a rematch. You have to fight to get back to where you
were!"
Li paused, puzzled. "But Satoshi-san said--"
"Yes, well, he's new at this as well and knows even less of the ropes
than you do," Yaga quickly said. "So. Because I'm a nice guy, I'm offering
to make a match for you to work your way back up that ladder! It's always
good to see bright young talent in the ring, and I'll do whatever I can to
help you survive the humiliating loss I handed you last week, assuming it's
possible for you to ever reach my level again. Sound fair?"
"I guess, but--"
This time, both Li and Yaga were interrupted by the roaring, annoying
sound of hardcore disco metal. Neither was pleased. The crowd was less
pleased.
Long Dong Wang looked the least pleased of them all. He stood at the
top of the entrance ramp, frowning and doing his best to look absolutely
pissed off, or at least as pissed as a grown man in spangly sequined attire
can. Satoshi was there, weakly trying to tug at his elbow, to keep him from
messing with the show -- LDW calmly shoved him back behind the curtain,
before addressing the ring.
"Yo, Li!" he called. "You messed with the wrong persons, yo! You in
the bad fecal matter now, boyo!"
Li hopped into the ring (balancing that long was tiring), and played the
'Confusion' card. "Huh?"
"Last Friday night, you were to be throwing the down with my mad
homeys!" LDW accused... while pointing to the punks in the first row with the
excessive leather wear. They were on their feet cheering their gangster boss
on, of course. "They was minding the business of their own, kicking back and
freezing in their crib while watching movies and you smacked the lay on them
hard, you intercourse-maker of mothers! Long Dong Wang is going to be
handing you your rear on a platter of sushi, punk-ass female DOG!"
This wouldn't do, Yaga thought. He waved his hands, trying to get the
attention of the crowd, of the fighters, of everybody. "Wait, wait one
minute! Sir, please, there's no need for such misdirected hostilities!"
"Exactly!" Li agreed. "Your guys poked at me first and--"
"This can be settled in the ring!" Yaga announced, in a flash of
inspiration. "Yes, Li, this is the perfect opportunity for you to attempt to
scale the ladder of success again! I can see it now. I'll humbly give over
my main event slot (and not defend the title this week) so you may take on
BOTH Long Dong Wang and Sumyung Gai in a handicap match!"
Li wobbled. "Whaaa?"
"IF you manage to beat both of them down," Yaga said, placing extra
emphasis on the 'if', "Then you'll be one step closer to your true goal!
Such a noble opportunity, young man! No need to thank me. Yaga is only
happy to help."
"Damn, Yaga, you be smooth as groove!" Long Dong Wang laughed, golf-
clapping. "Long Dong digs this most majorly! We'll be ready and waiting!"
As he returned to his dressing room, Li projected Strong Disliking.
Unlike Yaga, he didn't hold it in quietly.
"Feh," Li feh'd. "You know what, Yaga? Sounds to me like you wanna
cheese out of your fight so you're slapping me with unfair odds. Doesn't
sound so honorable to me. Don't you guys out there in the audience agree?"
The crowd grumbled in approval. Yaga's absolute control emotional
faltered -- were they BOOING him? The Great Yaga? No. This would not do
either. Measures would be taken.
"I think you misunderstand me," he said, approaching Li as slowly as he
could despite his internal desire to lunge forward and rip the brat's head
off. "I'm giving you OPPORTUNITY. This is how things get done. If you
don't want to take on all comers, then you must not want the title very
badly. Are you declining my extremely generous offer... kid?"
"Oh, I accept," Li said, smirking with his hands in his pockets. "Li
Ping's way of the warrior goes only one direction, and that's right to
championship gold, no matter what obstacles you dump in my way! Once I
finish punting those guys into next Wednesday, I'm putting you in the
retirement home where you belong, Ojisan!"
Snap.
In a blinding flash of rage, Yaga smashed the Roaring Elbow into Li's
chest with a meaty WHUMP. The boy flipped over backwards, tangled in a ring
rope, before crashing to the mat below.
This, of course, spurned the crowd into roaring their disapproval. Yaga
blinked a few times, realizing what he just did... he tried to shake his
head, plead to the crowd... but at that point, it was a futile effort.
Grumbling, he tossed down his mike and marched to the back. Damage control.
Damage control could happen later. After they've had a full night of action
and had forgotten about his little... slipup.
"...we'll be right back," Akari added. "Stay tuned, or you won't see
more of ME!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Scene: Shingo is sitting in an apartment, talking to James on the phone]
SHINGO: So what's up, James?
JAMES: Doing my hair, having a Zima.
SHINGO: [sweatdrops slightly] Umm...true, true.
JACK: [From behind] Waaaaassssssssuuuuuppp!!!
SHINGO: [Turns around, smiles] Waaassssuuuuuuuuuup!!!
JAMES: Who's that?
SHINGO: [Gestures to Jack] Pick up the phone.
JACK: [Picks up the phone] Hello?
JAMES: Waaaaaaazzzuuuuuuupp!!!
JACK: [muttering] Stupid flouncy twit... [more loudly]
Waaaassssssuuuuuuuppp!!!
SHINGO: Zzzuuuuuuuppp!!!
JACK: Hey, where's Dookie?
JAMES: [yelling] Yo Dookie!
DAISUKE: [Sticks his head out of another room; angry] For the last time, my
name is Daisuke! Daisuke! [Shakes his head; goes back into his room
and picks up the phone] Hey.
JACK: Waaaaaaassuuuuuuuupp!!!
DAISUKE: [sighs] Wassup.
JAMES: C'mon, work wi-
DAISUKE: [growls] Say it and I'll kill you in your sleep.
JAMES: [laughs nervously] Umm... Waaasssuuuppp...
SHINGO: Waaaasssssuuuuuppp!!!
JACK: Sssuuuuuuuppp!!!
DAISUKE: [Smiling sightly] Ssuuuuppp!
[The door buzzer goes off next to Jack]
JACK: Hold on. [Talking through the intercom] Hello?
PIKACHU: Piiiiiiiiiiiikkkaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
JAMES: Sssuuuuuuppp!!!
SHINGO: Sssuuuupp!!!
DAISUKE: Ssssuuuuuuppp!!!
JACK: Ssuuuuuuuuuppp!!!
MR. DUCK: *Sqeeeeeaaaakk*
[Jack and Daisuke hang up]
SHINGO: So wassup James?
JAMES: Doing my hair, having a Zima.
SHINGO: True, true.
CHAOS
TRUE
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"..." Satoshi said, staring at the monitor.
"Wow," The Dude breathed. "CHAOS actually hacked OUR show and changed
the commercial. Duuuude! I am HONORED!"
Satoshi sighed. "Where'd I put my Pepto..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
A beer can sailed gracefully through the air, punctuated by a loud whoop
from Neo's lady of fanservice and color commentary. "Okay! It's not the
upcoming NeoJapan title match just yet, due to previously unforeseen
scheduling conflicts involving that Yaga guy, but... everyone ready for a
DIFFERENT somewhat spectacular match??"
The roar of the crowd was not overwhelming, but it was polite.
"Alright then! Let's bring out our first contender...you know him, you
may or may not love him...Angus McAngus!"
The kilt-clad, musclebound caber tosser staggered toward the ring,
carrying his massive log. A mild pop welcomed him, punctuated by a few
snickers.
"And now, making his Neo debut, one of the most feared martial arts
masters in his homeland of China...please welcome Pao Wa Tie!"
A man in his early forties strode easily down the ramp, accompanied by
traditional Chinese music remixed with a heavy techno beat. The long, oily
braid of a true martial artist hung over one shoulder, his mustache drooped
to the proper chin length, and he wore the traditional Chinese garb worthy
of a martial arts master. However, there were a couple of odd things about
him that immediately drew one's attention. The first was the reversed
English lettering embroidered in the back of his shirt, which read "LLIK
UOY" and wouldn't read properly even with a mirror.
The other was the four-foot long, pink, tongue-shaped necktie.
"Are you ready to die?" he asked the Scotsman.
Angus laughed heartily. "Laddie, yer goin' doon!"
][ ANGUS MCANGUS vs. PAO WA TIE
][ (w/special guest booker eternal lost lurker)
][ FIGHT!
Angus hurled his massive log at Pao, managing to keep it vertical in the
process. The Chinese man smirked, performing a spectacular somersault kick
which sent the tree flying back at its owner.
The crowd was impressed...until Pao landed flat on his back, clutching
his foot. "Owchowchowch!" he wailed.
Angus chortled. "Dinnae feel too good, did it, lad?"
Pao kippuped, rising into a crane stance. "That was only a warm-up."
"And Pao Wa Tie seems to be favoring the foot he kicked the caber with,"
Akari remarked rather unnecessarily. "Let's see if he has any kind of
offense."
Pao grinned, and leapt way up into the air, landing lightly on the top
of the log. "Timber!" he yelled, doing an odd standing roll before driving
his fist straight down onto the log. Angus began to stagger, and wobbled back
and forth, trying not to drop the massive piece of wood. The crowd laughed a
bit.
"An interesting move by the newcomer!" Akari said. "But has he
accomplished anything? Scotty boy is already regaining his balance."
Indeed, Angus was now hunched down on the canvas, the tree once again
balanced and ready. As Pao began to descend, the Scotsman hurled the
monolith of wood into the air. The Chinese man's eyes widened as he realized
that when he touched down, so would the log--right on top of him.
The audience and the tipsy announcer realized this also. "It looks like
Pao Wa Tie is about to become a Pao Wa Pancake," Akari said, chugging another
can of beer. "I'd say this one is just about--"
Pao narrowed his eyes, and whipped off his necktie. Snapping it like a
whip, he swung...and the end wrapped around the base of the caber. He gave
the tie a hard tug, and the giant log was pulled off-course. The audience
began to clap...
...and stopped as it became apparent that the log was still going to hit
Pao, just in a more horizontal fashion. Angus laughed. "Nice try, laddie,
but ye're out o' luck!"
The Chinese martial artist grimaced as he landed, and immediately
dropped to the mat. The tree was bare centimeters above his head as he landed
on the canvas. The massive slab of wood descended like an anvil...
And stopped just an inch shy of flattening Pao, caught by the
surprisingly sturdy ropes.
"A lucky break for Pao Wa Tie, ladies and gentlemen!" Akari decided to
call it. "This match isn't over just yet!"
Angus growled, and charged forward. Pao looked up at the log, looked
over at the Scotsman, and began to sweat. "This is getting too close for
comfort..."
The caber-tossed jumped, smashing both feet into the log, his weight
driving it down to the canvas, intent upon crushing the Chinese man...
Who was no longer there.
Pao Wa Tie balanced on one of the cornerposts, wiping his brow. Angus
growled, and with a mighty stomp of his foot, uprighted the log. Lifting it
again, he snarled, "Stop jumpin' around an' get crushed, ye haggis!" He
hurled the log again, going more for distance than height.
Pao smirked. "I think it's time to end this little game." Snapping his
tie once more, he leapt high into the air...
The sound of something repeatedly striking wood rang through the
NeoDome. The audience murmured. Pao landed, impossibly straight necktie held
loosely in one hand. Angus blinked, looked up...and stared.
High above the ring, there failed to be a twenty-foot log. Instead,
there were many evenly-cut discs of wood, slowly beginning to separate from
their former tree shape.
"This is an incredible development!" Akari shouted. "Somehow, Pao has
managed to turn Angus' tree into so much firewood!"
"And now, victory will be mine," Pao Wa Tie sneered...just as many discs
of wood dropped from above, impacting solidly on his noggin. After about a
dozen hits, the Chinese martial artist dropped to the mat, unconscious.
Angus laughed. "Looks like ye did yerself in, laddie!" His laughter was
cut off as another dozen pieces of wood fell on *his* head, staggering him.
He seemed able to withstand the punishment, and was about to regain his
balance, when one final, straggling bit of sliced log dropped on him. The
Scotsman fell like...well, like a tree.
"..." went the crowd.
Akari sweatdropped. "Okay, looks like we have a draw, folks. So much for
starting things off on the right foot. We'll be back right with that NeoJapan
match after these hopefully correct messages from our sponsor!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fresh ice was added to an already sagging plastic bag that threatened to
snap Li Ping's spine from sheer pressure.
"Ano na..." he pleaded. "My headache's gone. I don't need any more
ice. Jeez... for an old guy, he packs a real whallop! I'll give him that.
Scariest elbows I've ever seen..."
"You can't go out there tonight," Ayane repeated from earlier. "I know
you've got that way of the warrior thing, but you're not in any shape to take
on TWO guys at once! I mean, Li, this isn't fun and games. People hurt each
other out there!"
"That's what fighting is, Ayane," Li reminded. "It's about using your
superior skill to defeat your opponent, and to do that... well, there's some
pain involved. It's okay. Really. I know what I'm doing."
"I don't see what all this is worth," she sighed, sitting down in a
slump on the stool secluded behind the concession stand.
"It's hard to explain, I guess," Li excused, pulling the heavy ice bag
off his head. "It's just what I am. What we are, really. It's always about
proving yourself, proving your skills are sufficient. I like to prove it to
the crowd, but... mostly I want to prove it to myself. It's more about how I
see myself than about strength or competition. I haven't been in real fights
until I got here, and I want to see if I can go the distance. If I can get
that championship... I'll be the top of the game, true, but I'll have proven
to myself that I made the right choice."
"Choice?"
"To be a martial arts hero, of course," Li smiled. "I could've been
anything else. Accountant, doctor, lawyer, ambassador... er. Those would've
been easier in comparison! But I chose this way, no matter how much people
didn't want me to. My family, the dojos I visited... I decided to press on
anyway and just DO it. I know I did the right thing. Now I need to justify
it in the ring."
Ayane mulled that over... it all rang familiar. Familiar in a curious
sort of--
"Iron Chef!" she declared.
"Eh?"
"The Iron Chef. The TV show. I always watch it. I've always wanted to
BE like those chefs. They're so amazing! They can do more with a simple
rice patty than.. than... well, they can do a lot. I started cooking as a
kid just for fun, but... I guess I decided I wanted to be the greatest chef I
could be after seeing a real cooking hero do it. I wanted to prove I could
be that good. That's like you, right?"
"Bingo! You got it!" Li cheered, snapping open a rising sun fan. "Your
cooking is as important as my fighting. It may hurt sometimes, and be a
challenge, but I'd want nothing less! So I have to go out tonight, even if
the odds aren't in my favor. Ne? ... um. Ayane?"
"Hai?"
"Can you help me lower my arm?" Li asked, still holding up the fan. "I
think Yaga dislocated a rib. I'm locked up. And I'd like more ice, if
that's okay..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Akari sat slumped behind her desk, twirling an empty beer can with one
finger on the desk. A glance behind her confirmed her worries... the crowd
wasn't exactly lit afire by that last match, and sitting around waiting for
the commercials to end didn't help matters. People were looking at their
watches. Bathrooms were being crowded. This did not contribute to a rocking
house of cheering and yelling and entertainment.
Briefly, she considered flashing the crowd to get them riled up, but
since that was how she lost her job as a weather girl it probably wouldn't be
the best course of action. Fortunately, the red 'On Air' light clicked on,
and they were back before she had to think of something else.
"And we're back!" she chimed, perking up immediately for the sake of the
viewers at home. "Folks, we've got some action and excitement coming up
right now, I swear. Up first, it's the NeoJapan title bout! The one
responsible for wrecking this fight last week is being given his shot at the
title for real. Just goes to show, you can't get anywhere in this world
without breaking a few rules! The weird kid with the funky sword is going to
be here any minute now--"
Now, on Ultra, use of crazy magical powers was very common. In
NeoFighters, other than some superhuman acrobatics and a man throwing around
a log, there wasn't that much wild power usage on file. Until now.
In sheer defiance of the laws of physics, a carving tear was torn open
in the fabric of space/time inside the ring. The gash widened, allowing the
boy in the black school uniform to enter... carrying the strange blood-sword
that slit open reality for him. Once he was through, the wound sealed itself
up perfectly, leaving only a few red drops on the mat.
THAT woke the crowd up. Sure, there was still silence, but now it was
the good kind of stunned silence. 'Great Lina, did I just see that? Did I
just see that IN PERSON and it wasn't a special effect?' was the unspoken,
but mutually agreed on line of the day.
"Ah, here we go!" Akari announced, quite happy at this turn of events.
"Ladies and gentlemen, hailing from No Fixed Address and without any family
name to speak of, please welcome... Tenma!"
Tenma immediately collapsed in the ring. Not totally; he managed to
stay on one knee, propping himself up by his sword (which somehow didn't
squish when it hit the mat, or carve it open). But now that the shock of the
entrance was over, people were noticing something else... he REALLY didn't
look healthy. Pale and weak, and not ready for a fight.
The generic referee approached him to check his condition, but stopped
in his tracks when the boy tossed him a sharp glare. "I'm fine," he said,
getting back to his feet. "Get on with it. I'm ready."
Grating rock music and/or screaming flooded the arena, as his opponent
arrived... pausing a moment at the top of the ramp. Kisei Kenji surveyed the
ring, grinning widely; this would definitely be an easy fight, if the guy
looked like the walking dead. Especially with her 'equalizer' to make up for
her recent lack of strong magic...
"Ah, miss?" the ref politely inquired, as she climbed into the ring.
"Is that--"
"A baseball bat? Why, yes!" Kisei said, taking a few test swings at the
air with the gleaming metal slugger. "I got it for a thousand yen at a
sporting goods shop. A beaut, isn't it? Solid aluminum!"
"Miss, I can't let you use--"
Kisei flicked a few black sparks from her fingers for intimidation
value. "How would you like to wake up on a scratchy lily pad with a taste
for flies tomorrow, bub?"
"I'll allow it!" the ref decided, and signaled for the bell.
][ NEOJAPAN TITLE MATCH
][ KISEI KENJI vs. TENMA
][ FIGHT!!
A full second before the bell rang, Kisei had come out swinging.
Long before deciding to devote her time to the forces of darkness, her
primary hobby was actually softball. There was a good neighborhood softball
team which she forced herself onto, much to the dismay of the boys (because
she was an icky girl) and much to their delight (because she was a great
shortstop and could really hammer them for the fences). Granted, whacking
someone's head off their shoulders was more teeball than softball, but she
could adapt.
The bat swung around in an arc that Babe Ruth would envy, until it was
stopped cold. Tenma wasn't looking healthy, but he was as sharp as his blade
and not going to fall for such a direct attack. Sword clashed on bat... and
the bloodlike substance that comprised the blade couldn't pass through the
metal. It snarled and kicked up sparks on the aluminum surface, as the two
locked up, a test of strength to see who could parry and who could strike.
"Got the sniffles?" Kisei asked, pressing hard on the handle, trying to
break the lock. This guy couldn't be strong enough to keep this up for long.
"You look like hell warmed over, buddy."
"Shut up and fight," Tenma rasped... giving one hard shove to the
lockup, to break it. He tumbled backwards, and rolled to his feet -- knowing
he could get cornered, but needing to back down from direct confrontation.
Kisei was on him like black on soot -- literally. She held the bat
back, and flung out her other hand, a tiny packet of graveyard ash she'd
stashed in her sleeve popping and flinging a small cloud of black choking
dust at him. Maybe it wasn't magic, but if it blinded the boy, it'd work
just like magic towards getting her the win...
Unless, of course, the boy whipped out some mad skill she didn't know he
had, and whirled his sword in a tight protective arc. The blood lagged
behind and extended like a jet trail, blocking the ashes in the air and
absorbing them into the fluid of the blade. With a flick of the wrist, the
weapon was back to its usual shape.
Akari tapped her desk, ponderous. "Did we just turn over to Mistress
Elvira's Midnight Spook Double Feature or something? I'm expecting to see
dancing skeletons and jack o'lanterns any moment now..."
In an instant, the momentum shifted. Kisei was out of position to
protect herself, and Tenma slid gracefully from being on the defensive to
being a machine of all-out offense. He was a trained blademaster and Kisei
was just a hometown softball hero -- whatever luck she had was fading, as she
parried strike after strike, dodging, weaving, doing whatever she could to
avoid getting hit. Eventually, Tenma maneuvered her into a corner of the
ring, trapping her... and spun in a full circle, to deliver the finishing
blow.
That's a lot of velocity he's got going, Kisei thought. Time to bail.
She snuck a foot on the ropes and kicked out, sliding under the bottom rope
and out of the ring...
CLANG. For some weird reason, the bloodsword clattered against the
turnbuckle, slamming into the metal just as it had into her baseball bat.
Perfect. This wouldn't take a major spell, either. Kisei touched her
aluminum rod to the turnbuckle, spoke a simple power word, and lit up the
arena.
Electrical arcs connected from her hand to the bat to the turnbuckle to
the liquid blade to the hilt to Tenma himself. He screamed out in agony,
looking very much like Luke Skywalker getting smoked by the Emporer. A
lighting grid above blasted out, glass raining down (thankfully not onto the
audience) as the electrostatic power caused the TV signal to fuzzle out a
bit...
"I guess that's enough," Kisei decided, retracting the bat and cutting
the spell. (Fortunately it worked, since even that small spell took most of
the magic she had left, as simple as it was.) She rolled back into the ring,
looking down on the boy, as he coughed and wheezed, his sword having
clattered to the floor at ringside once he let go, now on his knees and
helpless...
And smiling.
Tenma was definitely smiling. Smiling up at her, now.
"What's so funny?" Kisei demanded. "Give it up already! I don't know
what hospital YOU crawled out of, but you're not gonna be able to continue
now."
"You've done well," he admitted, weakly rising to his feet. He wiped
his mouth, where a thin trickle of blood had formed... "I'm impressed. But I
need what I came for. Now it ends. Nothing personal."
"What are you--"
Tenma raised his hand, and clenched it on those few drops of blood he
had just mopped up -- and his blade whirled from the floor back to his hand,
better than the Force could have managed. He snapped it around and it passed
neatly through Kisei's neck.
Akari was actually so stunned that she spit out her beer. "Gaah! What
the...? Well, her head's still on her shoulders, which means it'll probably
pop off in a second and we get a nice geyser effect... err. No, actually,
she's still on her feet, folks."
Which was surprising to Kisei, as well. The blade had passed right
through her. But hadn't it done that to the Scotsman last week? What good
was a sword that didn't do any... anything...
Kisei dropped her bat, staggering. The feeling was immediately
recognizable; last year, she'd decided to donate blood to the Red Cross,
primarily as a joke so she could spook the medical techies in the process by
pretending she was really loving it. But she walked out of that hospital
tired and dazed, and that was the same feeling she had now. Like the blade
had TAKEN some of her blood without even breaking her skin...
Indeed, the blade was redder and deeper than previous. Tenma breathed
in deeply... looking marginally more healthy. The crowd went back to the
stunned silence they had on his arrival...
And then he unleashed the beast.
A cut to the midsection, a diagonal swipe, a twisting vertical rising
slash and landing behind her with a vertical falling slash and it was all
over. Tenma landed perfectly on his feet; Kisei fell to the mat, exhausted.
The referee was over to check on Kisei immediately, and make sure she
wasn't hurt... and much to the approval of the crowd, she pushed him away.
She was still in the fight. More or less.
"It was a good battle," Tenma said, sheathing his sword. He stood
upright, quite healthy, quite strong compared to his opponent. "And I have
what I need now. Thank you. You may have the win for the record books. I
will take my leave--"
"No," Kisei spat.
"Excuse me?"
Kisei slammed her arm against the turnbuckle in anger, perhaps bruising
it in the process. She was beyond tired. She was through the other side of
tired. But SOMETHING was fueling her now... the same thing that powered her
last week. A black aura flickering into view around her, as she glared at
this bastard, as she wanted to hurt him to the core...
"This isn't over!" she shouted. "NOBODY humiliates me and gets away
with it! Not you, not Long Dong Whatever, nobody! Don't you know who I am??
I'm Kisei Kenji! I'm the mistress of midnight and the controller of demons!"
"I don't think a lot of blood is getting to her head," Akari commented.
"That's some seriously stock dialogue."
The aura wove itself around the arm she had against the turnbuckle, as
she slowly pointed it at Tenma. Tenma's hand went to the hilt of his weapon,
but stayed, waiting to see what would happen... not that he had to wait long.
A red line scratched itself into the mat at his feet. As he looked
down, more joined it, until he was standing on a pentagram... a summoning
circle. He recognized it immediately, and jumped clear before it was too
late.
She'd been pulling at the fishing line for days and days. Maybe now,
Kisei thought, she could reel the fish in, and SHOW this guy what kind of
power she truly had. How nobody had the right to kick her around like that,
to humiliate her, to make her feel so useless...
The lines glowed brightly... and started to bleed. The crowd got antsy;
this stopped being entertaining and started getting a bit frightening. They
knew of Cloud and his antics at Ultra. How well protected would THEY be from
some Omega event transpiring in this small building?
On seeing the blood, Tenma actually showed signs of fear. The boy's
usually cold or mean disposition downshifted straight into pure panic. "What
are you doing!?" he called out, over the rushing, pulsing sound from under
the mat. "How on earth did you find... Kisei, wait! Don't set him free!
You can have the win! I said that--"
"Who said this was about winning and losing?!" Kisei laughed, drunk on
power... and hauled hard on the line with all the strength she had left. To
her delight, she felt the cap break free, like some seal bursting loose and
the force rising like a bubble in a lake...
Bursting out of the summoning circle and immediately going for HER
instead of Tenma.
The eyes couldn't quite lock onto what was going on the ring. Clearly
something had happened. Something popped out of the mat, or a portal on the
mat, or... either way, the people in the audience were rubbing their eyes and
getting headaches just trying to keep track of it. A psychic wave of
distortion pumped out of the mess in the ring, even affecting the cameras...
That fear that Tenma was showing? Gone. Fear when you had to get
something done was only a hindrance. Once the floodgates had been opened, he
did what he knew he had to do. He whipped out a glove from a pocket in his
clothing, and drew a long slip of red paper with the protected hand... then
rushed Kisei, through the hazy field of power, and smacked it firmly to her
forehead.
It was like turning on the lights in a dark room. No summoning circle,
no flashy power, nothing. Just Kisei, standing with a ward pasted to her
head, falling unconscious to the mat with her opponent standing tall in
victory.
After his heart resumed beating, the ref called for the bell to award
the NeoJapan title as an afterthought.
".....ooookay," Akari said, snapping her fingers to summon the beer
vendor. She was going to need several tall cool ones now, Satoshi's request
be damned. "Well.. I don't QUITE know what just happened but it looks like
we've got a winner! Hooray. Yeah. Well, I DID apply to Ultra, I should've
figured on getting caught up in messes like this..."
Tenma didn't notice someone was trying to hand him a golden championship
belt right away. He snatched it up, and tossed it over one shoulder...
before tossing Kisei's fallen form over the other one. Using the arm not
carrying a girl who was heavier than she looked, he waved his sword absently,
carving a portal open in the air...
A bounce distracted him, as someone ran up to ringside. "Wait!" Keiko
called, waving her arms. "What are you doing with my sister?? HEY! Look at
me when I'm talking to you, pal!"
"This is out of your league, junior demon hunter," he warned. "She will
be returned, once I'm sure she's safe.. and he's gone. Excuse me."
Keiko sprung into action, rebounding off the top rope to flying tackle
the two away from the portal... and missed, as he stepped through and was
gone. Seconds too late to do anything about it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ayane banged her hand against the small monitor on the counter a few
times. "What happened out there? All I saw was a fuzzy screen..."
"Got me," Li said, stretching out.. slowly, this time, as he set the bag
of ice aside. "My match is up next. I'm not 100%, but I know I'll win!"
"I'll be cheering for you back here, I promise," Ayane said. "I mean,
in between serving up food for the customers. Hopefully without any more
technical dif... err, don't turn around, Li."
"Eh? Why?" Li asked, before turning around... to see The Great Yaga
standing at the other side of the counter.
"How are the ribs feeling?" Yaga asked. "Oh, and I'll have a cup of
tea, girl. Make it fast, I need to catch the bus once the show's over. I
don't anticipate this being a long fight."
Ayane went about making the tea... but didn't offer her usual cheerful
'Coming right up!' or 'Yes, sir!' calls. Li, however, did have a few words
to say. "My ribs are fine," he said. "Not that you'd care, ojisan. That
was a dirty trick, hitting me when I wasn't ready."
"You're not understanding this, kid, so I'll explain it again," Yaga
said, getting annoyed. "You are the new guy. I am the established order. I
was famous before you were a dirty thought in your daddy's mind. If you let
me guide your career, maybe you'll be almost as popular as I am. If you keep
showing me this disrespect, I'll crush your career so hard you'll be some
greasemonkey cooking burgers and fries for the rest of your-- HEY!! Watch it
with that!"
"Sorry, sir," Ayane said, refilling the now empty cup. "I'm afraid I
slipped on all the grease back here from cooking burgers and fries. Here's
your drink."
Yaga snatched the cup away and downed it in one gulp, before smashing it
to the counter. "That's the problem with you kids today. No respect for
your elders. It's a sad state in Japan when seniority doesn't carry the
weight it once did... although I guess I can't expect it from some punk-ass
GAIJIN American kid like you, 'Li', if that is your real name."
"What country I come from has nothing to do with you being an asshole or
not," Li said, narrowing his eyes.
"Cute. Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you: you NEVER, ever
make me look like the bad guy 'asshole' out there ever again," Yaga warned.
"The fans are MY fans, not your fans. If you do that one more time, I bounce
you so hard you land in New York where you belong. Got it?"
Li ducked forward and rolled over the counter, landing on his feet. He
rolled out some kinks in his shoulders, and smiled. "Excuse me, but I don't
have time for these cute little trash talk sessions. I've got a match to
fight."
Elder and junior exchanged one last angry glance, before going their
separate ways. Yaga hadn't even paid for the tea, Ayane thought bitterly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Click. The ON AIR light went red, and Akari put on her best smile...
despite being in the ring with this guy.
"Welcome back!" she said. "I'm here with tonight's competitors in the
handicap match, Long Dong Wang and his lackey Sumyung Gai! Long, we're only
moments away from your big match, and I understand you have a few words to
say so we can pad out the show and make sure we fill our given time slot?"
"Yo yo YO! Adverb!" Long shouted, waving his hands in the air like he
just don't care. His homeys in the front row shouted various things like
'You da man' and 'You rule, boss' while holding up pro-LDW signs. "We are
about to be acting bugged and tearing it down! Not only is Long Dong Wang to
be kicking the posterior of Li Ping multiple seconds from this point, I am
very pleased to be also announcing the release of my new rap album debut,
'Don't To Be Having Intercourse With Long Dong Wang, Fool!'"
"Oh, goody, " Akari said. "Plug away!"
"On musical disc, I bring the ruckus with a bakers dozen of phat dope
smackfresh hip hop trax! Although Satoshi tells me we are not to be having
enough time for a complete performance of my mad beats and superfly wicked
vibe, I to be encouraging you to buy a copy at local record store or my mad
crew will be all up in your area, you dig?"
Nobody in the audience was digging. Most of them were jeering him,
wanting to get on with the fight... a whole section quieted down when the
Yakuza punks in the first row got up to glare at people.
"I'm sure it's a very... interesting musical experience," Akari decided.
"So... Sumyung Gai, you haven't been able to say much during your not quite
lengthy tenure at NeoFighters, usually because you were too busy getting your
ass kicked to speak. What do you have to say to the audience."
"Who, me?" the scrawny ninja asked. "Really? Gosh! I hadn't thought
of anything ahead of time... but I guess I'd just like to say--"
He was then buried two feet into the mat when Li Ping landed feet first
on his shoulders. The referee, already a bit on edge after the last bout,
quickly motioned for the bell for the match to begin.
][ HANDICAP MATCH
][ LI PING vs. LONG DONG WANG and SUMYUNG GAI
][ FIGHT!!
"..." Sumyung continued, as Li took no breaks (except to break the small
ninja, of course), springing from his opponent's shoulders. One quick flip
in the air and he was positioned for a sweet flying kick to take out LDW and
end the fight in the span of mere seconds...
Except that LDW quickly grabbed Akari and used her as a human shield.
Li's foot smacked painfully into Akari's chin, and she went spinning to
the mat, out cold. Li landed awkwardly, shocked at what just happened, and
went to check on her -- only to be kicked in the back of the head by Long.
He stumbled, circling around to his opponent before loosing his footing and
going down.
"Little bastard gonna sneak up on Long Dong Wang?" LDW spat, bouncing
from foot to foot, daring Li to get back up. "You not to be wanting what LDW
be bringing to the table, yo! My style be awesome, I's causin' more Family
Feuds than Richard Nixon, word!"
Li spun in place like a breakdancer, using the momentum to get himself
back to his feet. He shook his head clear, and assumed the Stance of Crazed
Rabid Monkey... glancing to the side, to make sure the ref was helping get
the unconscious Akari out of the ring. "You'd use someone to take your
licks, Long? You are no warrior! You've got no honor!"
"Long be thinking that the honor thing is overrated when you to be
wanting to win," Long smirked. "Now. We gonna fight or rap, you dig?"
Switching quickly to Praying Mantis style, Li swerved in and around his
target. Rather than the direct assault, he relied on counter attacks; throw
an obvious punch, parry, stab with the fingers at Long's body. Sniping quick
attacks, relying on Long wanting to defend himself so hard that he leaves
himself open... a technique he saw in at least three movies, so it had to be
worth something.
Except, of course, Long had been in way more fights than Li ever had.
Long twisted to take one of the punches, and let the momentum carry him
through -- burying his elbow into Li's ribs.
Crunch. Li doubled over, the blow adding on top of the Roaring Elbow he
ate earlier in the night. Now, THAT was a pain unlike any he'd felt before;
even falling off his skateboard as a kid didn't compare to actually getting
your ass kicked in a fight. He lost his poise immediately, staggering as he
tried to recover rather than soaking it and moving back into the fight...
giving Long precious time.
The rapper/gangster/feeb grabbed Sumyung's arms and pulled him out of
the mat, which snapped back into place once the ninja was dislodged.
"Yo, don't sit around on the job!" LDW warned. "Be bringing at least 34
of your 36 styles of danger and whoop this gaijin boy's ass, Sumyung!"
Sumyung would've looked pale, if he wasn't wearing black pajamas with a
black mask. "Ah.. sir... my spine--"
"Quit yah whinin'! Fine. We break it swing style, then!"
"Oh, good. Wait, what?! Sir, n--"
Grabbing Sumyung by the legs, Long whirled him around like some bizarre
human weapon. Slinging the ninja over a shoulder, he posed, and faced down
Li Ping, who was just getting his bearings... only to find a crazy guy
swinging a ninja at his head. Li ducked, but missed the follow through,
getting a Sumyung to the chest, aggravating his ribs even more.
Obviously, this NOT working, Li thought as he fought for his footing
again. What happens in the movies when the good guy is getting beaten in the
middle of the fight? He makes a complete turnaround, of course. But what
triggers it? Think, think fast and hard before you lose the fight...
Long Dong Wang had more fun whirling around the (now quite nauseated)
Sumyung Gai like a nunchuck, showing off for the crowd. He laughed out loud
at Li's predicament. "You to be looking quite a wimp, boyo! What a poser
you are! You should to be giving up this fighting thing and go back to bein'
a little momma's boy, you dig? You can't hang in the crib with the real
fighters!"
That was it. Motivation. His burning spirit, his dream...
Li slowly straightened himself out... no matter how much it hurt, he got
himself upright, he centered himself. Extending his arms, rotating them in a
circle to snap them into the Stance of the Tiger.
"I am not a poser," he said, firm in his belief, spirit rising. "I
fight to justify my fighting, and I will become a martial arts hero! You
can't take that away from me no matter how many badly formed sentences you
hurl at me. I'm going to fight, I'm going to win, and I WILL see my dream
through!"
Long raised an eyebrow. "You be standin'? Good. Long Dong Wang is to
be finishing this! Gonna make you my female dog, boyo! HYAH!"
Whirling Sumyung into a battle-ready position, Long charged... the
direct assault. Big mistake.
Li jumped to the side, to keep his momentum going... and to catch
Sumyung Gai by the head, and whip Long around in an unexpected arc in the
process. He ran sideways along the ring ropes, to add to the torque, to keep
the spin going... then released halfway through.
Balance was definitely a problem. Long wobbled, unprepared, and had to
let go of his little buddy. Sumyung tumbled end over end until he crashed
into a corner of the ring, banging his poor widdle head on a turnbuckle. One
competitor eliminated.
After that, Li was all up in Long's area for a change. Fist after kick
after punch after elbow flew in Long Dong Wang's general direction; he did
his best to parry them, but this was a righteous beating from a young man
with determination and focus behind Long's immature need to show off and make
himself look big 'n bad. This was chi flowing from strike to strike; not the
kind that makes you throw big glowing blue fireballs, but real spirit power,
the edge of a warrior.
Li steered the pair along, getting to the left side of the ring... where
he dealt one final kick to Long, tangling him up in the ropes. His opponent
was now officially stunned and trapped... which meant this time, it would
work.
"Li Ping Ultimate Final Finishing Attack!" he called out, because saying
the words aloud made him feel stronger. "BULLET TIME!"
He jumped in the air, foot rearing back, ready to strike...
...and time stopped. For him, at least.
Long was not a moron. At least, not a complete moron. He knew what
this was, and knew how to counter it; you just smack the kid while he's
warming up the attack. Unfortunately he was rapidly losing feeling in his
arms, as he was hopelessly snared up in the ropes. If he couldn't free
himself soon, he'd--
Eat a kick to the head that made everybody in the arena wince. Which is
exactly what he did. Long Dong Wang got untangled by virtue of the ropes
snapping completely as he was hurled completely across the NeoDome, through
the curtain and into the backstage area, where a nasty crash was audible.
Ding ding ding went the bell, and the victory was Li's. He landed on
one foot awkwardly, and hopped over to the nearby turnbuckle, to lean on it
and pose for the crowd... the crowd, which was cheering louder than they had
during the entire night, as his music blared from every speaker. Finally a
decent sized reaction from a NeoCrowd! His heart swelled with pride and
blood.
Ayane was out, just like last week, to check up on Li. "LI! You... I
mean you... wow! Wow! Err, that guy sort of destroyed my kitchen and I
nearly got killed but... wow, you won!"
"I won!" Li repeated. "I did it! Man, I'm just so... so... so much in
incredible pain! Ayane, can you help me down? I might've broken my ankle
there. Ehheh. First time I ever actually landed the Bullet Time kick, I
didn't realize how much of a recoil it has..."
Sporting a nasty bruise and holding an icepack on her head, Akari popped
up just long enough to speak to the audience watching at home.
"Thanks for watching," she said quasi-bitterly. "Assuming my jaw
doesn't swell shut, I'll see you all next week. Same NeoTime, same
NeoChannel. Fade to black."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The end.
Except, of course, for the small huddled group in the Head Booker's
office. All was silent save for the clickety clack of keys on The Dude's
laptop computer, as eager eyes watched with anticipation...
"...and... it's a... holy cow! We got a 0.4 rating!" The Dude
exclaimed. "That's double what we hauled last week! My friends, score one
for NEOFIGHTERS!"
"OOSHA!!" the Alt.fan.Ultra, Tokyo Circle, Mighty Taunting Division
taunted in unison. "We have overcome!"
"It's still not a one, but it's getting closer," Satoshi said, with
relief. "Guys, you did a great job promoting this week's episode. You all
deserve some free NeoFighters merchandise! ...uh, but we don't have any
merchandise yet, so you'll have to take a raincheck."
"This suits us perfectly, most honorable Satoshi-san!" the High Priest
Otaku stated. "We are thrilled simply to strike a blow for most righteous
sports-entertainment! And furthermore--"
An office telephone which should not have been ringing at 2 AM on a
Wednesday night began to ring. All voice went silent, as Satoshi nervously
reached for the handset... "Ah. Moshi moshi?"
"Satoshi-san..." Nabiki Tendo's voice spoke on the other end of the
line... clearly unhappy. "I think we need to clarify something about this
working arrangement. That is, if you have a moment to speak?"
He had to actively fight the urge to faint, as all the blood rushed to
his head. "Ah, I have a moment, Miss Tendo!" he said quickly, before waving
frantically to get the guys to keep quiet. "What may I do for you?"
"You can start by NOT promoting your own show. Really now, Satoshi-san,
don't you trust Ultra? NeoFighters is an Ultra production. That means WE
handle all your advertising. We do your merchandising, we do your co-
promotions with local business, we are the ones who control how you present
yourselves to the public. And I don't see how you thought you had the right
to set up a website without my authorization. We've taken the liberty of
shutting it down, of course."
"Err... but Miss Tendo, we can't operate without a website. It's
obligatory, in this day and--"
"You'll operate how I tell you to operate, Satoshi-san," Nabiki warned.
"Failure to do so results in loss of programming. I had doubts about your
ability to carry off this experiment from day one, and stunts like this do
not help your cause. You can be replaced. Your show and your entire cast of
rejects can be replaced. So, it would be in your best interests not to step
out of line, yes? Do you understand?"
"...I understand," Satoshi said, bowing in bootlicking demeanor, despite
her not being able to see this over the phone. It was just instinctive to
him. "Yes. I do. I'm sorry to have troubled you, Miss Tendo. ...have a
nice evening."
Click. She hung up on him without another word. So, Satoshi set the
handset down on the cradle, quietly.
"She wants to sink us," he realized. "We're to stop all self-promotion
immediately. But they're not going to promote us, either. She wants us to
fail..."
"Uh... hey, it's okay," The Dude said, trying to be comforting. "We can
find other ways to get the word out. Ways she can't trace back to us. I
mean--"
"Something's going to have to be done," Sichi Satoshi said, barely
listening. "It can't continue like this. I'm going to have to do something.
...you boys head on home. I've got some thinking to do."
"But--"
"Just go, please," he said, pressing his hands to his eyes, trying to
rub out the pressure behind them. "Just go."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Each footstep made her head hurt worse. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
Akari Jameson was not having a good night. That would be the last time
for quite awhile that she strayed from her announcer's desk; if the fight
with Tenma hadn't been enough proof, getting kicked in the skull was enough
to show she had no place in the ring. It was just too dangerous. All she
wanted was to have a few drinks, have a few laughs and entertain people, was
that so wrong? Did she have to suffer for her art?
But on the bright side, at least the night couldn't get any worse. She
turned the key in the latch of her apartment door, and stepped inside.
It just got worse.
Huge baskets of cheap plastic flowers were littered all over her
apartment. Extremely lame 70's funk music was playing... the kind usually
heard in bad porno movies. Chikka wokka thumpa thumpa, chikka wokka thumpa
thumpa. What's more, there was the king of uncool himself, Long Dong Wang,
lying on her bed with his shirt open and holding a bottle of five hundred yen
wine with a red bow around it. Two plastic glasses clinking together in the
other hand.
Akari waited in the doorway. "Okay. I'll bite. What the hell is wrong
with you, Long?"
"Hey, hey, be cool, groovy chick," Long Dong Wang soothed. "This be
Long Dong Wang's way of saying... 'It's a damn shame a fine lookin' broad
like you was to be kicked in the face by some punk.' So, allow Long to
express his apology by offering a ride on the Nipponese Pleasure Rocket! It
be Long's duty to please that booty."
Times like these made Akari glad she had the cops on speed dial on her
cellphone. She laughed weakly. Obviously, his male ego was damaged at the
hands of Li Ping beating his ass raw, and he wanted to assert himself. Or
maybe he actually thought this was romantic and charming, in his own twisted
little perspective on the world...
Although...
Her night had sucked. She wasn't nearly drunk enough yet, her head was
hurting, and all she was planning to do tonight was apply ice and read a bad
romance novel before snoring away eight hours. That plan wasn't exactly
loaded with fun oozing from every pore.
"Oh, hell, why not?" Akari decided, closing the door behind her. "Pour
the wine. I think I deserve to get SOMETHING out of you in return for you
screwing up my evening, you dickweed."
"Right on, foxy momma!"
"But you're not allowed to talk for the duration. Pass the booze."
"Damn."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took an hour or so to trace, but eventually he found the point of
initial contact. The building looked like it was ready to fall apart; he
couldn't conceive of why Kisei would want to live here. Then again, for the
last few months he was living in a realm of darkness, so he wasn't one to
talk.
Tenma scattered some purifying ash from the cremation of a saint on the
summoning circle, breaking the lines. Not easy stuff to find, but this was
worth blowing his whole supply on. His gloves protected him from the harm
the holy relic could have caused his own body. Maybe, he thought, just maybe
it would be enough to close the door...
DON'T BET ON IT.
The words raged through his head like a bullet train. He staggered
once, before locking them out...
"NO," he shouted, growling at the voice. "You're not getting into my
head again. NEVER again. Show yourself!"
A hazy cloud breathed from the summoning circle. Despite the ashes, it
was able to get through to this plane...
"You know better than I that I can't show myself yet," the voice
continued, in normal tones, in normal speech. A simple voice, endearing of
trust and respect...
"I sealed you away once, I can do it again," Tenma warned. "I locked
you away from our world for three full years. You'd never have made it back
if not for--"
"If not for her?" the cloud asked... wavering towards Kisei, who slept
uneasily on the floor, ward still stuck to her head. "It was a lucky break.
She thought of you as she was searching the other planes for life force... a
thought I recognized immediately, and latched on to. After that, it was her
own determination that pulled me closer and closer to this world. I'll admit
it; you sealed me quite effectively, boy. Of course, you didn't count on the
ignorance of others breaking your handiwork. That's creativity, boy. You
never understood the creative process."
Tenma sat down on a nearby grungy sofa, glaring down the dark presence
in the circle. He tugged his gloves off, tired of wearing the constricting
leather. "I can put the genie back in the bottle. This world doesn't NEED
or want you. ...and it doesn't want me."
"Then why did you return, mm?" the voice asked, chuckling as the vapor
fluxed. "You missed your home, didn't you? I could never fully purge the
humanity out of you. It's a shame, a shame; I failed you on so many levels,
Tenma. For that, I apologize. You could have been a flawless work if not
for a few unpolished edges. How is your thirst for blood and battle these
days, son? Does it eat away at you because you refuse to accept yourself?
Or are you still using your silly toy to deny your rightful--"
With an angered flick of the wrist, Tenma hurled another ward from his
sleeve. It burned his fingers for the split second he held it, but got the
job done regardless -- hitting the circle, it silenced the voice, drove the
vapor away.
Of course, that was only a crack he could speak through. For him to
enter this world again, he'd have to do it through the girl. The ward was
all that kept him from doing just that...
Tenma rose from his seat. Exhaustion was seeping into his bones, but he
had to ignore it. She would be fine here for the time being; he, on the
other hand, needed help. Perhaps this was out of the junior demon hunter's
league, but now, it was out of his own as well.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
][ NEOFIGHTERS #2 RESULTS/RECAP
* PAO WA TIE defeated ANGUS MCANGUS, now at 1W/0L
* TENMA defeated KISEI KENJI, now at 1W/0L and NEOJAPAN CHAMPION
* LI PING defeated LONG DONG WANG and SUMYUNG GAI, now at 1W/1L