Subject: [FFML] [KOF/Xover] [Improvisational Fanfiction] Reforming Evil Can Be Tricky: Chapter 2
From: "W4" <>
Date: 2/12/2002, 12:31 AM

Following is Chapter 2 of "Reforming Evil Can Be Tricky," an improvisational
fanfiction at Indie Madnesse (

This chapter was written by the story's creator, the MultiMediocre Knight

* * *

 "Alright everybody, let's go around and introduce ourselves!" Kim said

 A few people muttered, while others sank down further in their chairs. The
meeting of the Kaphwan Reform Group was being held in a room that held a
very dark mood indeed, never mind it was quite brightly lit with the hum of
florescent lights surrounding the place. The fact that it was nine in the
morning didn't help the collective mood of the reformees any.

 "Come on now, who's first?" Kim said. He scanned the circle of chairs,
finally settling on Ryuji Yamazaki. Kim descended on him like a hawk on
a mouse, if you can believe that a hawk could smile that much. "So, Mr...."
Kim checked his sheet. "...Yamazaki, tell us about yourself."

 Yamazaki looked up slowly.

 "Go to hell."

 "Now Mr. Yamazaki, you be nice," Kim said, switching from his Welcoming
Smile (#34) to his Slightly Disapproving Smile (#83). Noticing Ryuji's
response (he spat on the floor), Kim turned to the next person. "Okay, what
about you?"

 The red-haired man stood up shakily.

 "My nammmme," said he, "ish Yagammmi... Iori Yagami." He followed this up
by throwing his head back and laughing, careful not to tip his beer. "I'm
here on a dububle murder sssharge. And might I add," he continued, "that you
all have verrry LOVELY blouses on."


 Kim turned to the source of the latest comment. "And who are you, sir?"

 "DEE!" he yelled.



 ".....," Kim .....ed. But that doesn't mean he stopped smiling. (He merely
changed to his Slightly Puzzled Smile[#62].)


 "Don't mind him, man," said the next person, a black (I mean, African
Amer... uhh, Indian Am... Ah, hell, who cares... ) man carrying a
"Dat's pretty much all he ever says."

 "Is it?" Kim asked.



 "Are you..." Kim checked his sheet. "...Luke? Luke... Gobbler?"

 "HEY!" The basketballer's posture changed from relaxed, bored, and
sitting in a chair, to angry, frothing, vicious, and standing a good three
inches away from Kim. "My name's LUCKY! Lucky GLAUBER! NEVER. CALL. ME.

 Kim, settling into his Calming Smile(#23, as if you care), turned away from

 "Fair enough. And this is..." Sheet check. "...Heavy D?"

 "DEE!" The man cut in. Another black man (I mea- Ah, screw it, you know
I mean, right?), he wore a black jean jacket. His hair a mohawk, tape on his
hands and arms, he was exactly the type of person who you would think was
supposed to have been shot as soon as the Eighties had ended.

 "Dat be him," Lucky said, who had completely forgotten by now what it was
had been angry about(not the sharpest knife in the drawer, y'know). "He's
too big on talking too much."

 "ENT!" D yelled.

 Everybody stared at him.

 "Soooooo," Kim said to Lucky, "Why are you two here?"

 "...Bank job," Lucky muttered.

 "Dee." Heavy D added.

 "We shoulda listened ta Brian," Lucky continued. "He told us not ta count
bein' in the King of Fighters '95, told us to find money soon. He had
football, but what about us? We laughed at him. Told 'im we were too popular
to not get invited back for '95." Lucky shook his head.

 D looked like he was going to say something (and two guesses what), but
thought better of it.

 "Oh well," Kim said, still in his Calming Smile. "That happens."

 He then turned to a man sitting slouched in his chair. "And what about

 Billy Kane shifted in his seat and grumbled, thinking back to what brought
him here...


 "Billy," Geese said from behind his desk, "I have a... small job for you."

 "SMALL job?" Billy yelled at Geese. "Bloody 'ell, the LAST 'small job' ye
gave me was enterin' the King o' Fighters '97! That 'small job' was a
bleedin' NIGHTMARE for me! I got beaten around! I broke two ribs! I got set
on fire EIGHT TIMES! Bloody naffin' hell!"

 Geese glared at Billy.

 "Are you done?"

 Billy promptly shut up. If there was one thing Billy had
learned during the last seven years or so, it was that arguing with Geese
Howard was not the best way to ensure a healthy future.

 "This small job," Geese continued as if Billy hadn't said anything, "will
rather important for the future. Billy, you may have heard of the group Kim
Kaphwan, who won the King of Fighters tournament, is starting as a plan to
reform criminals, or as he puts it, 'people who walked the wrong path of
blah blah blah blah'."

 Billy nodded, not saying anything for obvious reasons.

 "As you know," Geese continued, "Kim Kaphwan proves to be a nuisance to us
as long as he is living. Therefore, you will be supposedly turned over to
him, and you will follow him around until you have a clear shot at him, at
which point you will kill him. Understand?"

 Billy blinked.

 "Uhm... could you explain that to me again?"


 And so, after Geese had explained it to him again, and again, and again
using a slideshow, and again using puppets, and again using a
computer-graphics image, and again while beating the crap out of him,
Billy had finally understood his mission.

 After that, he was turned over to Kim by security guards at the Ash Gore
Weed factory.

 (Rearrange the letters in ASH GORE WEED, and you get...)

 Of course, during this moment of recollection, Billy had neglected to
Kim's question.

 "Well," Kim said, "if you don't want to talk about it right now, that's
okay. Maybe you would like to talk instead?" Kim turned to another person.

 "You already asked me," Lucky said.

 "Oh. Right." Kim grinned sheepishly.


 (Somewhere far away, an author is dragged off and beaten with a tire iron.)

 "Well then," Kim said, "now that you've all introduced ourselves, I'd like
you all to meet my wife, Cindy."

 Kim's wife smiled to everyone, masterfully hiding how much she would love
strangle her dear husband for this "brilliant" idea.

 Her attention, along with everyone else's, was suddenly drawn to the wall
a blue portal appeared in it and a head popped out, a head that looked a lot
like Kim's, if you looked over the fact that his hair was longer(but in the
same shape) and he wore glasses.

 "Wait a minute!" The Author's head glared at everyone. "Wasn't her name
Laura in the last chapter?"

 Everyone stared at him, uncomprehending.

 A pause.

 "Uhm... forget it." The Author's head retreated into the portal, which

 Kim shook his head to clear it, and then continued. "And these two are my
sons, Jack and Don."

 Kim's sons looked around the room. Jack, 15, looked around the room with a
sarcastic grin while his brother, Don, 16, took it all in calmly. They
looked a lot alike; in fact, you'd be hard pressed to tell one from the
other, unless, of course, one opened their mouth.

 "Now then," Kim continued, "does anyone have any questions about the tour?"
A hand went up. "Yes, Lucky?"

 "Where we goin' first, man?"

 "Well," Kim said, "our first stop will be the Japan Wrestling Federation's
tour date at the local arena. It should be a good show. Here, I've got some
photocopies of the newspaper ad for you all. Take one and pass the rest on."
He handed a stack of papers to Ryuji, who threw them on the floor. Kim,
smiling, gathered up the papers and handed them the other way this time,
to Iori. This worked out well, because by the time the stack got to Ryuji,
there was only the one paper left to throw. He threw it down anyway, being
a rather bad mood as usual.

 "Say, Mr. Kahhphwan," Billy said, looking over the sheet, "you're K'rean,

 "Yes," Kim answered, "why?"

 "Oh... nothing." Billy said.

 "Alright," Kim said, "let's go! There's a van outside. Oh, and before we

 Kim then proceeded to rattle off a long list of various rules(such as "no
spitting", "no elbowing old people", "no throwing porcupines in a balloon
store", etcetra.), taking him roughly fourty minutes.

 "Okay, NOW let's go!" Kim shepherded them all out of the room, making sure
Iori didn't fall down too many times, and closed the door.

 The room was silent, which is natural when there's noone in it. A portal
soon appeared in the floor, however, and a head popped out of it.

 "What do you mean, lame ending?" The Author grinned.

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