Subject: [FFML] [Fanfic][Ranma] Dr Tofu Is Still Struggling In His Fight To Remain Dead
From: "M Davis" <nausicaa@sprynet.com>
Date: 12/5/2000, 9:19 AM
To: "Fanfic Mailing Listan" <ffml@fanfic.com>



Classic Fan Fiction Review



        Who is not familiar with that landmark work of Ranma 

1/2 fan fiction, "Dr. Tofu Falls Into An Open Sewer And Dies" 

by Daniel "Yoshimato X" Gallagher?



        The prose of this story is sparse, yet scintillating.  The title 

sums up the plot beautifully.  Surely, this story does as much to 

explain Dr. Tofu's disappearance after volume 13 of the manga 

as any other.



        A more in-depth at the complex plot reveals several key 

points to the story.



        A)  Dr. Tofu sees Kasumi.



        B)  Dr. Tofu dances with Betty-chan.



        C)  Two gaijins from New Jersey work on a sewer main.



        D)  Dr. Tofu falls into the open sewer main and dies.



        E)  Nobody notices.



        It is plot point D upon which the entire story turns.  

However, plot point E is also key.  The readers might wonder 

why the two New Jersey sewer workers were never formally 

charged with manslaughter, if not for this clever plot twist by 

the author.



        Thank you, Daniel Gallagher.  I salute you.  Your story 

touched my heart... or was that my spleen?  In any case, you 

have provided a logical answer to a question that plagued us 

all.  Without you, we might all have fallen into our own private 

open sewers.



        All in all, it is extremely tight plotting.  I give it, I don't 

know, several bwees, some squawks, two moos, and various 

other barnyard sounds.



        It would be the height of presumptiveness and folly to 

write a sequel to this towering giant of a classic, so I thought, 

what the hell, I'll do it, and without the author's permission 

even.  One might as well produce a sequel to Moby Dick, 

Citizen Kane, or Lethal Weapon II.  Yet the many who have 

cried out to know more, to know what happens next, have 

stirred me to write.  And here I use "many" in the strict 

Watership Down sense... as in "one, two, many".



        For those unfortunate few who have not read this 

monumental work, it can be found in the raac ftp archives, and 

also on my fan fiction page:



http://members.nbci.com/bellchan/sewer.txt



        And now I present, for your reading pleasure:



Dr. Tofu Is Still Struggling In His Fight To Remain Dead



m.a. davis/miko belldandy@angelic.com



This story is set in the same continuity as "Dr. Tofu Falls Into 

An Open Sewer And Dies" by Daniel "Yoshimato X" 

Gallagher.  Really.  I'm not joking.  You have been warned.



Why would I do this?  I found the original hilarious -- not 

because it's a funny story, but because it even exists at all.  

Talk about stupid!  I laughed pretty hard.  And then I thought, 

you know, the only thing that would be stupider would be a 

sequel..



In the original story, no one notices that Dr. Tofu is gone.  I've 

reinterpreted this to mean no one _important_ ever notices.  In 

otherwords, all of the useless, background, and forgotten 

characters are free to notice, along with any characters that I 

create on the spot.  You needn't take this very seriously.   ^_^;;;



I really am working on Muyami Academy.  Really!



The Characters in this story are the creation of Takahashi 

Rumiko, and no infringement of her rights are intended.  This 

is a fan-created work.  La de da.



Act One

A Doctor's Clinic in the Nerima district of Tokyo



        The door creaked as it slid open, allowing bright rays of 

morning sunlight to fall on a dust-covered floor.  Then a 

shadow blocked the sunlight, and the head of a girl with short, 

dark hair peered inside.



        "Ohayo!  Tofu-Sensei?  Hello?"



        The girl stepped inside.  Dust swirled up through the light, 

and the girl began to cough.   Another girl, somewhat slighter 

and with red hair in a pigtail, followed the first.  The dark-

haired girl wore a white blouse and blue school uniform dress, 

but the redhead wore loose black pants and a Chinese-styled 

red top.



        "Man," the redhead said, looking about.  "How long has it 

been since anyone's been in here?"



        The other shook her head and moved into the next room.  

"Well, we can borrow some hot water at least.  He won't mind."



        The redhead followed her into the next room, where a 

small teapot was already being heated.



Act Two

A Morgue In New York City, the Bronx



        "We found them on the Jersey shoreline," the coroner 

explained as he led Inspector Steven Jagielski and his partner, 

Peg Rikke, down the cement staircase and into the back rooms 

of the medical examiner's offices.  He passed several tables 

before pausing and lifting the cloth from one.  "When we found 

them they were already like this... one clutching the other in a 

death embrace.  We're investigating it as a murder-suicide.



        "Victim A, male, wore glasses and dark clothing... 

something like a robe or pajamas.  Victim B, female, was 

found without any clothing at all."



        "A real sicko, huh?" Rikke commented.



        "Could be."



        Inspector Jagielski studied the bodies carefully, slowly 

rubbing his chin.  "They appear to have been dead a long time," 

his partner, Inspector Rikke, noted.



        "Probably about a year, by our estimates.  Considering 

that, the one body is in surprisingly good condition."



        "Still," Rikke said, "We're not going to get any 

fingerprints or retina scans from this.  There was no id of any 

kind?"



        "None that we could find.  All we've really got to go by is 

dental records and dna testing."



        Inspector Jagielski finally spoke.  "We've got a bit more 

than that to go on, doctor," he said.  "Notice how the bones of 

the second victim are wired together?  How do you explain 

that?"



        The coroner frowned.  "I have to admit, that part has had 

us stumped."



        "Also," Jagielski said, "notice how the joints of the first 

victim are loose and limber?"



        "Now that you mention it, yes.  Almost as if he were an 

athelete."



        Jagielski nodded.  "I've seen this sort of thing before, and 

it's not pretty.  I think you'll find that the cloth of the first 

victim's clothing was manufactured in the far east.  It's only a 

gut instinct, but I'd be willing to bet our man was a martial 

artist of some sort, and possibly a scientist, doctor, or health 

teacher as well.  We'll need to check missing persons next, 

especially in Japan and China."  He looked back up, and stared 

straight into the coroner's eyes like a man posessed.  "The truth, 

doctor, is out there... _really_ out there, way far away, 

somewhere where we can't find it just yet."



        "You always say that," said his partner, Rikke.



        "I know," Jagielski said.  "It's my catch phrase.  Every 

brilliant sleuth needs a catch phrase."



        "Only you might want to shorten that a bit," she said.  "It'd 

have a better ring to it."



        "No," Jagielski said, shaking his head.  "I've been working 

on that phrase for a long time, and I'm almost certain that I've 

finally honed it down to the essentials."



Act Three

A Doctor's Clinic in the Nerima District Of Tokyo



        Mrs. Tofu's stood in the center of her son's clinic, 

frowning.  Dust was everywhere... she'd stirred up quite a bit of 

it just setting down her shrine.  Something was decidedly 

wrong.



        She sighed, opened the shrine doors, and began chanting, 

offering up a prayer to her dead husband for the safety of their 

son.



        Afterwards, she cleaned up the small clinic and then set 

out to talk to the locals.  _Some_body, _some_where, must 

know what was up.



        The neighbors, however, were not much help.



        "Now that you mention it, he _has_ been gone for a  long 

time."



        The speaker was an old man who lived nearby.



        "And my back's been troubling me so," an old woman 

added.  A second old woman, this one with a ladle and a 

bucket of water in her hand, chimed in.



        "He _has_ been gone a while... but I thought he was just 

on vacation."



        "For a full year?" Mrs. Tofu asked.  The gathered crowd -- 

six elderly neighbors in all -- stared back at her blankly.



        "Well, you know how it is," a second old man said.  

"Tofu-Sensei was a martial artist.  They're always going off on 

long trips without any warning...."



        "That's right," the ladle woman added.  "Take a look at 

that Saotome fellah."



        Several others nodded in agreement.



        "You mean to tell me you've been without a doctor for a 

full year... and you didn't even notice?"



        "Well," the second old man said, "it did seem kind of 

odd...."



        "But you know," the first said, "even when he was here, 

there were times that you didn't dare see him, no matter how 

much you were hurting."



        There were more nods of agreement.



        "That's right.  Whenever _she_ was around."



        "You just had to make do."



        Mrs. Tofu ground her teeth together in frustration.  How 

in the blazes could a neighborhood lose its doctor and not even 

notice?  It flew in the face of logic!



        Whatever was up, Mrs. Tofu vowed to get to the bottom 

of it!



        And then, without warning, her son appeared at the back 

of the crowd.  He was dressed in his traditional brown gi and 

round glasses.  He smiled at her and said, "Why hello, mother!  

How long have you been here?"



        "Son?" she asked.  "Can it really be you?"



Act Four

A New Jersey FBI Office



         Inspector Steven Jagielski stared across the autopsy table 

at his  partner Peg Rikke and a aging oriental man in a rumpled 

grey suit.        



        "There have been no matchest to the missing persons data 

base," Jagielski said.  "We've marked them down as John and 

Jane Doe.  We know little about them.  However, certain clues 

led me to think that a coroner who was also an expert on 

Eastern martial arts and mysticism might be of use.  That's 

where you come in, Doctor Wu."



        The old man nodded, and began his inspection of the 

body.



        "What do you make of this fabric?" Inspector Rikke 

asked.  "It's tie-died, right?"



        "This," said Dr. Wu, "is a Japanese gi.  The owner was 

Japanese, but a student of Chinese martial arts as well."



        Jagielski raised an eyebrow.  "What makes you say that?"



        "Look, here, and here."  The doctor lifted a badly 

decomposed arm, and then a leg.  "Do you see how the joints 

are worn?  What do you suppose could cause that?"



        "Repetetive motion of some sort?" Jagielski guessed.



        "More than that.  I've seen this three times before, and in 

each case the body in question was that of a formidable martial 

artist.  I'd say our John Doe here was an expert on pressure 

points, maybe even acupuncture."



        "You're certain?"



        "Yes," the doctor said.  "Even though he was a young 

man, I'd say that he was very skilled.  A master, or one close to 

it."



        "Can I assume that there are  few with such skill?"



        "Very few," the doctor said.



        "Good," Jagielski replied.  "That should narrow it down 

some."



        "I'd like a few minutes to complete my examination," the 

doctor said.



        "Yes, of course.  Inspector Rikke and I will be waiting in 

the lobby."



        As the two Inspectors walked up the hallway, Jagielski 

glanced at his partner and said.  "The truth is really, really, 

really out there, Rikke, hidden so that we'll never find it unless 

we look really..." his voice trailed off, as his face flushed with 

frustration.  "Darn it!  I can never get it right!  All I need is a 

simple, pithy statement...."



Act Five

A Doctor's Clinic In the Nerima District of Tokyo



        "So, you're Shampoo's father?" Mrs. Tofu asked.



        The thin old Chinese man with dark glasses nodded 

vigorously.  "She's my pride and joy!" he exclaimed.  "The 

greatest martial artist of her generation!  Well, apart from that 

pig-tailed lad, of course...."



        "She's got nice wide hips too," Mrs. Tofu added.  "She'll 

bear fine children, you mark my word!"



        The old man beamed proudly, then took a quick puff of 

his pipe.  "By the way," he added, extending his  hand.  "My 

name's Brylcreme.  I understand that you're Dr. Tofu's mother?  

So surprising for him to reappear all of a sudden."



        "Yes, indeed," she replied.  "He said he was on a training 

trip...."



        They both paused as the door to the examination room 

slid open.  An old woman walked out, smiling.  "Ah, my back 

feels so much better!" she exclaimed.  "I'm so glad that Dr. 

Tofu has finally returned!"



        A beautiful young woman followed the older woman out 

of the exam room.  Brylcreme took one look at her and froze, 

his face a mask of horror.



        The young girl smiled warmly.  "If you have any further 

problems with your back, just come back and Dr. Tofu will fix 

you right up!"



        She turned to Brylcreme.  "Sir?  Dr. Tofu said to send you 

in."



        The old man nodded, as if in a daze.  He got unsteadily to 

his feet.



        The girl came over to lend him her support.  "You're 

Shampoo's father, right?" she asked.



        "Yes," he said weakly.  "And you're Miss Kasumi Tendo."

        

        "Oh my!  You know my name!"



        Brylcreme nodded, still in a daze.  He didn't even notice 

when, behind him, Mrs. Tofu got up and went outside.  Nor did 

he notice when, a few moments later, there was the sound of 

some strange shouting, and then the sound of a distant splash.



        As they entered the examination room, the doctor turned 

and smiled.  "Just get up on the exam table here," Dr. Tofu 

said, "and then tell me what's wrong."



        The old man paused.  The doctor seemed calm and self-

assured.  The old man glanced into the empty corner, and then 

back at the doctor.



        "Where is Betty?" the old man asked.



        "Betty?" the doctor replied.  "Was that her name?  I just 

straightened out her back, and...."



        WIth a loud cry, Shampoo's father sprang back and held 

his hands up defensively.  "You're not Dr. Tofu!" he exclaimed.  

"You're a fake!  And let me tell you, there's nothing worse than 

fake tofu!"



        "What?  What are you talking about?"



        "Tell me, Kasumi," said Brylcreme, "haven't you noticed 

anything odd about Dr. Tofu today?"



        "Well," she said, "he hasn't been _nearly_ as comical as he 

usually is...."



        "Precisely!  The real Tofu's mind went to mush in your 

presence!  Not to mention, the real Tofu never went anywhere 

without Betty-chan, his skeleton!"



        "Oh my!" Kasumi exclaimed.  Her hand went to her 

mouth.  "You're absolutely right!"



        Dr. Tofu's image seemed to shimmer, and suddenly in his 

place was a shorter man wearing a red kerchief.



        "Aha!" Brylcreme exclaimed.  "Copy-Cat Ken!  As I 

suspected!"



        "Curse you, meddling raman chef!" Ken said.  "I would've 

gotten away with it if it weren't for you!"



        Ken sprang for the door and out into the street.



        There was some shouting out on the street, in what 

sounded like a foreign tongue.  Then there was a thump and a 

loud splash.



        "Stop!" Brlycreme shouted.  "Come back here, foul 

villian!"  He followed Ken out onto the street, then came to a 

halt.



        Copy-Cat Ken was nowhere to be seen.  Which wasn't a 

surprise, as he could impersonate anyone.  Still, there were 

only two people in the area... two fat American gaijin, dressed 

as sewer workers, sitting near an open sewer main.



        The ramen chef walked over to them.  "You didn't happen 

to see a strange man in a red kerchief run out of that clinic just 

now, did you?" he aasked.



        "No," the first one said.  "Ain't that right, Vinnie?"



        "You got that right," Vinnie said.  "We absolutely did not 

see him.  Nor did we see him disappear down this here open 

sewer drain."



        ^�Hmmm, perplexing.^�  Brylcreme glanced back at the 

clinic.  "Come to think of it," he said, "what happened to Mrs. 

Tofu?  She was just here a minute ago...."



        "We haven't seen _her_ fall down an open sewer drain 

either," Vinnie said.  "In fact, we haven't seen _anyone_ fall 

down this drain, ever.  Right Joey?"



        "Tell me about it," Joey said.





Act Six

A Helicopter over the Pacific



        The helicopter flew East, seemingly following a brilliant 

orange-yellow path laid down on the surface of the Pacific 

Ocean by the setting sun.  Inspector Peg Rikke sat in the 

cockpit with the pilot, while in the back, 

Inspector Steven Jagielski had his feet propped up on a coffin 

large enough to hold two badly decomposed skeletons.  He 

gripped his gun tightly with both hands and aimed it at a young 

black man who sat opposite him.



        "You've got to ask yourself one question, punk," he 

whispered horsely, "is the truth really out there?  Well is it, 

punk?"



        Josh Smith, ayoung intern only recently assigned to their 

department, stared back at Jagielski, wide-eyed.  Beads of 

sweat ran down his face and dripped from his chin.  He 

swallowed, hard.



        "I have no idea," he croaked.



        Jagielski smiled and holstered his weapon.  "You know, I 

think I've got that pithy statement thing down," he said.



        "How soon do we reach Japan?" he yelled at their pilot.



        "Half an hour," the pilot called out.



        "But how did the body get all the way to New Jersey?" 

Peg Rikke asked over the sound of the chopper's blades.



        "El Ni�o," Steven Jagielski replied.  "It's been playing 

havok with the ocean currents.  Toxic chemicals perserved the 

body, and the messed up ocean currents carried him all the way 

to Jones Beach."



        "But you're  talking about two different oceans!" Rikke 

shouted back.  "How did he get from the Pacific to the 

Atlantic?"



        Inspector Jagielski's face took on a dark cast.  "We can't 

rule out the intervention of aliens, Rikke.  In the end, they 

always seem to be involved somehow."



        Inspector Rikke stared back at her partner in confusion.



        "Are you suggesting aliens moved the body from one 

ocean to the other... with a tractor beam or something?"



        "No," Jagielski said.  "Nothing like that."



        "Good.  You had me scared for a moment there."



        "I mean," he added, "any sensible alien would use the 

Panama Canal, to avoid suspicion...."



Act Seven

Doctor Tofu's Clinic



        There were five of them, huddled about a round table.  

One was Brylcreme, the father of Shampoo, come to Japan 

with his daughter and with Cologne, Shampoo's Grandmother.  

The others were neighbors and patients of Doctor Tofu.



        They were gathered inside Tofu's clinic.  The door were 

shut, and the lights were off.  They stared at each other in the 

gloom created by the afternoon sunlight shining through rice 

paper walls.



        "So, it's come to this," the raman chef said.  "Nobody 

knows how Dr. Tofu died.  Nobody seems to have noticed, 

except for us.  His mother has disappeared, and the man that, 

for whatever reason, imitated him, has also disappeared.



        "If anyone is to learn the truth, it will have to be us."



        "You really think he's dead?" the old woman asked.



        "I think so, yes.  There's only one way to be sure."



        "Such a shame," the first old man said.  "And he was 

usually such a good doctor, too."



        The Chinese man cracked his fingers, then stared around 

the table.  Incense smoke wafted up through the still air.  

"Luckily, I know a few Amazon spiritualist tricks," he said.  

"Please, let's hold hands, and everyone close their eyes."



        The raman chef began to chant in a language that was 

neither Mandarin nor Cantonese, and certainly not Japanese.  A 

breeze seemed to blow through the room, although the doors 

were shut.  The table jumped, then seemed to float upwards.



        Then Shampoo's father began to speak in a low, spooky 

voice.



        "We are calling Dr. Tofu.  Do you hear us, Dr. Tofu?  It is 

I, Shampoo's father, with some of your former patients."



        After a moment, an eerie voice rose out of the darkness, 

barely more than a hoarse whisper, but definitely audible.  "Go 

away!  Leave us alone!"



        The raman chef paused, then asked, "Is this Dr. Tofu?"



        "No!" the voice exclaimed.  "You're bothering us!  Now 

scram!"



        Shampoo's father shifted uncomfortably.  "Well then, is 

Dr. Tofu available?"



        "No!"



        "But he _is_ there, isn't he?"



        The disembodied voice seemed to hesitate.  "He's... he's in 

a meeting... all week!  He doesn't want to talk to you!  Look, 

we just want to be left alone!  We're happy together, and 

nothing you can do is going to change that!"



        The ramen chef and part time spiritualist frowned.  "Who 

exactly is this, anyway?"



        "Who am I?" the voice responded.  "Isn't it obvious?  I am 

Tofu's one true love..."



        "Kasumi?" the chef exclaimed.



        "No, don't be stupid!  Kasumi isn't dead, you know!"



        The ramen chef nodded.  "Yes, I was wondering about 

that.  But if not her, then who can this be?"



        The voice faded to the barest of whispers.



        "Betty... my name is... Betty...."



        And then the voice faded away completely.



        "Hello?  Doctor Tofu?  Betty?  Hello?  Is anyone there?"



        Shampoo's father sighed.  He  stood up and turned on the 

lights.



        "I guess that's all we're going to get," he said.



        "Well that tears it," the first old man said.  "Dr. Tofu 

really is dead.  If you can't trust Betty's word on it, who can you 

trust?"



        "I was afraid of this," Shampoo's father said.  "We'll have 

to inform the Tendos, of course, especially Kasumi.  And I fear 

we don't have much time.  Hurry!  Let's do it now, before it's 

too late!"



        The ramen chef sprang from the table and ran out the 

door.  "Wait!" the old woman called out.  "I'm not as young as I 

used to be!"  But as she hobbled to the doorway, she heard the 

sounds that they'd all been dreading.  Someone shouted 

something in a foreign language.  There was a scream, a 

thump, a loud splash... and then nothing.



        The old woman glanced outside.  All that could be seen 

were two fat gaijin sitting on the curb next to an open sewer 

main.



        "I guess that's the last we'll ever see of that ramen chef," 

the first old man said, coming up behind her.



        The old woman nodded.  "I'm thinking it'd be best if we 

just forgot this whole thing, and went on with our lives, you 

know?"



        The second old man nodded as well.  "Safer that way," he 

said.  "No need to pry into things that don't concern us."



        "Then we're agreed," the old woman with the ladle said.  

"What we know goes no further than this clinic."



        Cautiously the four snuck out of the clinic and up the 

street, hugging the shadows as much as possible.  In the 

darkness they could hear the two gaijins mumbling.



        "Again?  What is it with these people, huh, Joey?  I'm 

telling you, Jersey's got nothin' on this place.  It's positively 

dangerous working here!"

        

        "Tell me about it."



Act Eight

Nerima District Of Tokyo



        In the evening a rented station wagon pulled up in front of 

Dr. Tofu's clinic.



        Inspector Steven Jagielski and his assistant, Peg Rikke, 

got out and looked about.  Jagielski pointed to the corner post, 

where fading kanji still advertised Doctor Tofu's skill in 

accupuncture.



        "This is the place," Jagielski said.  "Finally."



        "About time," Rikke said.  "We've been driving all over 

Nerima looking for this place.  I would have thought that, once 

we were in Tokyo, we could locate some relatives."



        "We searched all morning," Jagielski said.  "Nothing."



        "I know, I know."  Rikke stepped up to the front of the 

clinic and peered through one of the rice paper panels.  "I 

wonder if anybody's around," she said.



        "Looks deserted," Jagielski replied.  "With the phone 

disconnected, you'd have to think that nobody's been home 

since he disappeared."



        "Sure is strange though.   A community Doctor disappears 

and nobody even notices."



        "The truth is most definitely out there somewhere, Rikki, 

hidden in a good hiding place, but one that we'll stumble on 

eventually, only... damn, damn, DAMN!  I just can't get it 

right!"



        Rikki walked back to the station wagon and opened the 

hatch.  She stared at the long, black box in the back.



        "What should we do with the body if we can't find a 

relative?  Leave it here?"



        "I'm not sure," Jagielski said.  He walked over to her and 

gave the coffin an appraising look.  "Sure, why not.  I'm getting 

tired of lugging it around.  Let's leave it in the clinic for now."



        The two agents grasped the coffin and began to pull.  It 

was solid oak and quite heavy.  After a prolonged bout of 

pulling,  yanking, and groaning, Jagielski paused and said, 

"We're gonna need some help lugging this thing in.  Too bad 

we couldn't bring Smith along."



        "No room," Rikki said, "with the coffin and all."



        Jagielski glanced around and, to his surprise, saw two 

large Caucasian men sitting next to an open sewer main.



        "Hey, you two!  Wanna give us a hand?"



        The two heavy-set men looked up.  They stood and 

ambled over.



        "Vincent Kytelli," the first one said, extending a meaty 

hand.  "And this is my partner, Joseph Cantanelli.  We're from 

Jersey.  And let me tell ya, it's nice to see someone over here 

who speaks good old American English!  What can we do you 

for?"



        "We just need to get this coffin into the clinic there," 

Jagielski said.  "It's heavy and hard to move, but...."



        "Not a problem!" Vinnie exclaimed.  "Just grab the other 

end Joey... got it?  Okay, onna count of three... one... two... 

three... _PULL_!"



        The two burly men gave a mighty  heave.  The coffin flew 

out of the station wagon.  The two sewer workers stumbled 

backwards and fell.  The coffin flew over them and down the 

street.



        There was a loud bang, and then a splash.



        "Don't tell me..." Vinnie began.



        "My God!" Jagielski exclaimed.  "It went right into the 

sewer main!"



        The four of them ran over and looked down into the 

gaping hole in the street.  There was nothing at the bottom but 

water.



        "It... it's gone..." Jagielski said, his voice full of disbelief.  

"How are we ever going to solve the mystery now?"



        "I... uh... I think we should keep quiet about this," Vinnie 

said.



        "Yeah," Joey added.  "Tell it to me."



        Vinnie looked up.  "What did you say?" he asked, 

suspiciously.



        "I... uh... I mean 'tell me about it.'  Yeah.  Tell me _all_ 

about it."



        "_ALL_ about it?" Vinnie exclaimed.  He took a step 

back.  Then, with the expert precision of a man who grew up as 

an Italian kid in the Bronx, Vinnie sucker-punched his partner, 

levelling him.  "Don't let him get away!" he growled.  "That 

ain't my partner Joey!  That's an imposter!"



        With blinding speed, Inspecter Jagielski slapped 

handcuffs onto the apparent sewer technician, and suddenly the 

man seemed to melt away.  What was left behind was not a 

burly Italian sewer-worker at all, but a skinny Japanese man 

with a red bandana on his head.



        "So, as I suspected, it was Copycat Ken all along," 

Inspector Jagielski said.  "You were the one that did the did the 

good Doctor in, never suspecting that some of the minor 

characters would actually notice.  When his mother showed up, 

you did her in too, and then Shampoo's father.  You faked your 

own death, killing Joseph Cantanelli instead, and took his 

place, hoping to escape detection.  But the real question is 

why?  Why did you do it?  What did you hope to gain?"



        "A second shot," Copycat Ken replied.  "Look at me!  I 

can imitate the power of any martial artist you could name.  I'm 

the most powerful character in the whole Ranma 1/2 universe!  

And what do I get for it?  One lousy tv episode, and then it's 

sayanora!  Am I mentioned in the manga?  No!  Do I show up 

in anyone's fan fiction?  No!  When I hooked this gig, I knew it 

was my big chance!  I had to act, to get the attention of the 

fans, and get my revenge into the bargain!  And I nearly did it!



        "Curse you, you stupid gaijin!" he swore.  "Curse your 

stupid, complex foreign language!  I nearly got away with it 

all!"



        "Yeah, you nearly did," Vinnie replied, "but for two 

things.  One, even Joey wasn't stupid enough to leave that 

many access tunnels exposed.  And two, Joey was a man of 

few words... _very_ few words."



        "It's like I told you, Rikke," Jagielski said.  "The truth is 

really out there somewhere.  Really, really out there.  

Somewhere.  Really."



FINI









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