Subject: [FFML] [ranma][sonfic] Rounin Spatula
From: Allyn Yonge
Date: 8/2/2001, 2:27 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com

The  characters  of the Ranma 1/2 universe  are  the
creation   and   possession  of  the  brilliant   Rumiko
Takahashi.  They  belong  to Rumiko  Takahashi  and  her
licensees   (Shogakukan   Inc.,   Kitty-Fuji   TV,   Viz
Communications   Inc.)  No  copyright  infringement   is
intended.

************************************************


    Rounin Spatula

      (Sung to the tune of "Running Gun" by Marty Robbins)





I rode out of Osaka Ku, by/ bullet-train to Tokyo

I was/ cookin' Okonomiyaki, chasin' the / boy I hated so



Far behind lay Osaka and the/ past that I had earned

Twenty/ notches on my spatula marked the/ lessons I had learned



Many times I sold my spatula for a/ place to lay my head

Till the/ nights began to haunt me by the/ Iron chefs that lay dead



Couldn't/ stand it any longer all the whispers and the stigma

So I/ said good-bye to my girl-hood and/ became a rounin spatula



I enrolled in Fuurinkan  as the sun rose in the East

My thoughts on Satome Ranma, (That filthy rotten beast)



I swore to dad I'd kill him, the boy who stole my honor

That I'd whip his ass so bad, he'd need an organ donor



I'd barely started okonomiyaki, that was of world class

When in the back I saw Saotome Ranma, the cowardly jackass.



He claimed he didn't know me, about the price that I'd paid,

of how he'd stolen the yatai , and my honor he'd  betrayed.



I wrapped him up in noodles and dumped him on his head

an' with my spatula whacked him, 'til I was sure that he was dead


But he escaped my every trap, threw me up into the trees

An then my perky bosom, the bastard gave a squeeze



I slapped his face/asked why he left, when he was my beaux

he scratched his head, looked at my chest, an' said . . ."I didn't know!"



Then he called me "cute"----I turned to mush---- and watched him walk away

And I knew that where I lie/ he too must lie  someday.



Now my anger is slowly fading and my eyes are growing bright

And my thoughts turn to  satin sheets and hot and steamy nights


and how I'll tie him naked to the bed, and cover him with sauce . . .



Oh please forgive me daddy

for the ending of this saga



But a woman's love is batter, than being  a rounin spatula.





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