Since it was generally requested that what is currently done
be sent in for review, it shall be done!

A lot of the plot still needs work, and some details here
and some details there need to be added... But, it's been
looked over enough times so that, now, all the misspellings
look perfectly fine to me. ^_-

Everything that's gone before is at:

http://rakhal.com/florestica/ben-oliver/index.html

I don't mention what did happen, because precious few would
believe me if I told them.

...

Then again, you all know me by now, right? ^_^

Moving right along, then!

(Continued from 1/?)

^_^

    Disguised as an inconspicuous substitute teacher, the creature
named Youma Fortranda strolled the halls of Furinkan High School. She
went completely unnoticed as she passed the various classes,
completing the necessary preparations to drain all of the energy out
of the exceptionally gifted early-morning students.

    Fortranda paused to peek in on the Advanced Placement Physics
class. The classroom had a very ergonomic design, spread out in
a quarter-circle. At the front, the instructor taught, using a
chalkboard and an electronically controlled overhead projector.

    "Hmmm, soda can," one student in the front row muttered.
Everyone ignored him.

    "So you see," the slightly-purple-skinned teacher explained,
pointing things out on the chalkboard with a long stick and his voice
vibrating slightly as he spoke, "contrary to what they may have
taught you in elementary school, all true scientists know this one
simple fact: In space, constant thrust equals constant velocity."

    The bulky teacher wrote the equations on the board. "Repeat it
with me: Constant thrust equals constant velocity."

    "Constant thrust equals constant velocity," all twenty-five
advanced placement students replied at once.

    "Again."

    "Constant thrust equals constant velocity."

    "Good. Now, let us move on-"

    A hand went up in the back row. "Uhhh, Exedore-sensei? I've got
a question!"

    "What is it this time, Otaku-san?" the Zentraedi asked, turning
around and glaring impatiently at his student.

    "I'm not clear on this 'sound in space' thing."

    Exedore sighed, glaring at his least intelligent student. "It
is very simple. In outer space, there is nothing but a complete
vacuum. There is no air."

    "Yyyyeah," Otaku-san agreed, slowly nodding along.

    "Explosions are therefore louder, since there is no air to get
in the way."

    "Ooooooooh," the student said, "it all makes sense now."

    "But what about the soda can?" the ignored individual in the
front row asked again.

    "The offensive use of a soda can was first witnessed in
nineteen eighty-six, during the alien attack on Graviton City."
Exedore clicked a button on the remote control for the overhead
projector, bringing up a slide of the incident in question. With
a red laser pointer, he indicated the part of the image with the
soda can in it. "Apparently, the aliens were armed with Pepsi-
missiles."

    From the doorway, Fortranda waved her hand at the students.
Wisps of a cloud-like energy rose off of them.

    Exedore yawned slightly while his students grew weary, slumping
down onto their desks.

    Youma Fortranda snickered malevolently and moved on to the next
class. On the door, it read: Advanced Placement Home Economics.

    The entire classroom was full of cooking utensils: pots and
pans were neatly arranged on metal hangers while Senior, Junior,
and Sophomore girls attempted to cook various pieces of unidentified
foodstuffs in very unorthodox methods.

    One girl, a short-haired blonde that looked like she should
have been in elementary school, stepped toward the front of the class,
merrily holding up a closed bentou-lunchbox-thing and offering it to
the teacher. "I finished my midterm, Sensei!" she announced in an
overly cute, high-pitched voice.

    "Excellent, Shiko-san," the teacher replied, smiling in return.
"I'll grade it right now so that you won't have to wait."

    Shiko jumped up and down in delight. "Waaaaai!"

    The teacher turned toward her assistants, three very nervous-
looking boys.

    "I-I-I," the eldest boy stuttered, waving his hands frantically,
"no, please!"

    "No, no, no!" the second cried.

    "Can't I just have detention instead?" the third pleaded.

    The teacher shook her head. "No, school policy is very strict
on this. Tanaka-san, please grade Shiko's assignment."

    The third assistant gulped very hard, then took the lunchbox,
unhooked the clasp and opened it.

    *Screoooow!*Screee!*Scree!*Scrooow!*Kreeee!* Tanaka held the
box at arms-length as restless spirits of the undead screamed out
in a foul wind, flying past his face and disappearing into the air.

    The eldest assistant offered him a blindfold. The other
offered him a cigarette. Tanaka held up his hand, refusing them.

    Tanaka was handed a pair of chopsticks. He gingerly impaled
what appeared to be a slice of sushi, lifted it up, took several
deep breaths, placed it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He
braced himself for the inevitable.

    Shiko smiled proudly, holding her hands behind her back.

    After a few moments, Tanaka opened one eye, followed by the
other, surprised that he was still alive. "Hey," he ventured to say,
"this isn't half bad." The teacher's assistant took another bite,
then another and soon he had gobbled down the entire meal. "That was
great! I loved it, Shiko-chan!"

    Shiko blinked. "You did?"

    Tanaka nodded vigorously. "Yeah!"

    The poor little blonde frowned. "B-b-but, but, but... I studied
and everything!"

    The teacher sighed sadly and shook her head. "Shiko, what am I
going to do with you? This is the third test you've failed so far in
the course!"

    "There must be something wrong!" Shiko tried to protest.

    "Do you WANT to grow up to play a MINOR role in society, young
lady?" the teacher berated her student. "If so, just keep making
edible food and you will! Important people shouldn't cook well!"

    Shiko turned around, sniffled, then went off to sit in the
corner, weeping sadly to herself. "But... I tried to!"

    "Why can't you be more like Belldandy?" the instructor
muttered. "She had trouble starting, but just look at her now!" She
pointed to another girl in the class.

    A beautiful, smiling brunette held up a plate full of old
chicken bones and rotting flesh with toxic nuclear waste and old,
lukewarm biohazard material pouring out the maggot-eaten holes. "How
is this, Sensei?" she asked sweetly.

    "That looks right," the teacher agreed. "Kenji-san, grade her
assignment, please."

    "No! Nooooo!" the eldest assistant pleaded, scooting backwards
into his seat, obviously traumatized by past experiences. "Not that!
Anything but tha-aaaaat!"

    "Man," Tanaka whispered, "I'm sure glad Shiko's been failing
lately."

    The remaining assistant nodded in agreement.

    Nobody noticed when their life energy started coming out of
their bodies in wispy light-blue clouds. One by one, the students
and the teacher collapsed.

    "This is too easy," Fortranda whispered in satisfaction as
she collected the precious power. She proceeded to the next class,
which was labeled: Family Life Curriculum. She peeked in through
the propped-open door to watch the teacher explain the facts of
life to everyone in the room.

    "All right," a tentacle monster at the front of the class
explained, and drew the word "Respect" on the chalkboard. "That's
what it's all about, y'know: respect, love, and kindness."

    "Ooooh," the students awed in unison. All of them were really,
really cute, well-proportioned, bouncy females with not-so-smart
looks in their great, big eyes.

    "The point is," the overfiend continued, "you never, _ever_
start one of those relationships unless you've taken into
consideration the consequences of your actions." He sighed, tying
back one of his stray tentacles with a pink ribbon. "You get so many
unwanted things: children that can't be supported. Adoption's
always traumatic for the poor kids, and abortions are... Well,
they're just. Plain. Wrong!" He shuddered at the very thought.

    A girl in the front row raised a hand, accompanied by a quick
bounce that would have turned any fourteen-year-old male beet red.

    The teacher pointed at her. "Yes, Maron-san?"

    "Ummm, Fiend-sensei? We were all discussing this among
ourselves for a while, and we want to know something."

    "What?"

    "Can we get extra credit if we demonstrate an advanced
understanding of the subject?"

    The tentacle monster froze. "Whatever do you mean?"

    "Yes!" all the other girls agreed, bouncing up and down in
agreement. "Let us demonstrate!"

    The tentacle monster took a step backwards. "No, just stick to
the course materials and you'll all do fine."

    "Noooooo," the girls protested. "We want to demonstrate!"

    The female students stood and started advancing toward
their teacher. "Demonstration!" they cried. Demonstration!"

    "But no!" the teacher protested, frantically waving his
tentacles, "I could lose my job!"

    "Let us demonstrate!"

    Wisps of life energy wafted off of all the individuals present.

    The girls slumped to the floor, inches away from their teacher.

    The overfiend trembled in horror before fainting in relief.

    From the doorway, the youma gathered the energy in her right
hand and started to walk off. "Good," Fortranda whispered, taking
a few steps back, "but the teacher looked odd for a human being..."

    "Stop!" someone called.

    Youma Fortranda looked down the hallway to see a cap-wearing,
grey-uniformed Furinkan hall monitor running toward her, waving
his hand. "Yes, what is it?"

    Drawing close, the monitor spoke to her in an authoritative
English accent, "You there! I don't recognize you."

    "Isn't it obvious?" Fortranda laughed. "I am a dangerous
youma that has just drained the energy out of all your students!
Ha hah ha ha haaaa!"

    "Yes, yes, that's what the whole school system is about:
draining the youth of all their energy," the monitor shot back
impatiently. "Now let me see your identification, young woman."

    Fortranda grinned evilly. "Here's my identification!"

    *Unnnh!* Dozens of students from the drained classes ran
out into the hallway, sweeping toward the unsuspecting hall monitor.

    "Wait!" the uniformed man ordered, holding a hand out at the
boys and girls. "Stop!"

    *Grrrowl!* The zombified teenagers roared, grabbing the
monitor's arms and legs, pummeling him into unconsciousness.

    Fortranda laughed pityingly. "Dumb humans."

    *WARK-WARK-WARK!* The klaxon of an alarm sounded and red
lights flashed along the hallway walls.

    Another hall monitor rushed down a flight of stairs.

    "Ooooh, another one," Youma Fortranda commented, "but I don't
want any distractions while I get this energy to Jadeite." She held
out her hand and the thick steel door leading from the stairs to
the hallway slammed shut, additionally barricaded by a few rows of
lockers, which slid over to cover the entrance.
    
    The zombified teenagers groaned and lined up along the
hallway.

    Fortranda held her hands together, transmitting the energy
she had gathered to her beloved general.

^_^

    A ball of swirling energy quickly gathered into Jadeite's
outstretched palm. He demonstrated it to his queen. "Beryl-sama,
as you see, in a short while, we will have enough power to fend
off even the Outer Senshi, should that become necessary."

    "Excellent work, General," Beryl complimented her lackey.

    Suddenly, the ball of energy ceased to grow.

    Jadeite frowned. "What...?"

^_^

    Fortranda stopped her transmission of the humans' energy when
she noticed something odd about the blockade she had created. It
was shaking and glowing red in the center. "What could that-"

    *HISSSSSSSSSSS!* Sparks danced around the lockers for a second
and the metal began to sizzle.

    *BLAAAAAAM!* The entranceway exploded open, bits of broken
and oxidized metal flying inward. Dust and smoke engulfed the area.

    *BJRR!*BJRR!*BJRR!* Red laser bolts blazed through the smoke.
They struck several students, flooring them.

    White-armored, masked Stormtroopers fought their way in, firing
their black laser rifles at everything that moved.

    *BZRR!*BZRR!*POWWWW!*

    Fortranda's jaw dropped. With a wave of her hand, she sent the
possessed students to face this new threat while she ran further down
the hallway and around the corner.

    *BZRR!*BZRR!*BZRR!*BLAAM!*BZRR!* The barrage of laser blasts
continued, taking down more and more possessed students. A couple of
them launched themselves at the soldiers, only to be shot down in
midair.

    "AAARRGGH!" Another student cried, falling limply to the ground
as he clutched at a black, smoking wound in his stomach.

    *BZRR!*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAAAAM!*

    "Heeeeeeey!" the tentacle fiend whined, running through the
middle of the fire-fight in an attempt to find some cover. "Why's
everyone acting so weeeeeiiiirrrd?!"

    "Phee-pho-pheeow!" a squat, barrel-shaped overhead projector
droid whistled as it followed its master through the fire-fight.
The two safely made it to the next classroom, despite all of the
laser beams whooshing by them.

    *BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BZRRRR!*BLAM!* The troopers advanced, taking
down everyone in sight.

    In a few more seconds, it was over. All of the young men and
women were down on the floor as the white-clad soldiers rushed
forward and continued to secure the area.

    *Dahn-dahn-daaaaahn!*

    As the dust cleared, a tall, black-clad, caped man with a
black, all-covering breathing mask walked through the entrance. He
placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed the troopers' handiwork.
A few more Stormtroopers followed close behind him.

^_^

    "Aww, man! Haruka left early to take my Pop over to school?!"
Ranma cried. "I wanted to ask 'er about--"

    "You can ask her about whatever you like during lunch," Rei
said, dragging the boy out of the house. "She goes to the same
school, after all." She glanced back at him. "By the way, doesn't
it bother you in the least that they're making your father go back
to school?"

    "Hmm? Well, yeah, a bit," Ranma admitted, taking a moment from
planning his future training sessions. He held rested his arms behind
his head, trying to get his mind around the concept. "My Pop's going
back to fourth grade. I don't think he even made it into high school.
Heh. Who knows? It might be good for him."

    Rei nodded as she walked alongside the pigtailed boy on their
way to Furinkan High. "Yeah, I think it'll be about right for him."
She laughed softy at the idea, then tried to picture her own father
going back to elementary school, crunched into a tiny desk, waving
his right arm frantically in the air to answer a question, alongside
a bunch of very disturbed ten-year-olds. "I can imagine your father
doing it, but if my father had to do that, I don't know what I'd do."
She cringed at the thought.

    "But it ain't _your_ pop that's going."

    Rei smiled, letting her imagination feast upon all the
deliciously embarrassing things that might happen to the poor spore--
er, _man_. "No, it isn't, is it?"

    Ranma snorted, folding his arms. "Serves 'em right, after all
he put me through."

    Rei cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh? What did he ever make you
do that you didn't want to do? Besides coming here and getting you
engaged to me and my sisters, I mean."

    "Lots of stuff!" Ranma replied immediately. He paused, trying
to think of a proper response. "There was, like, that trip to
Jusenkyo, and we all know how _that_ turned out."

    Rei nodded along as she listened.

    Ranma, completely oblivious to the girl's rapidly growing grin,
continued his explanation, "And then there was all that time we spent
away from home, moving from place to place. He made me miss a duel
with a friend from school a while back," he started counting the
unpleasant circumstances off on his fingers, "when I was six, I had
to move away from _another_ friend when his dad gave us his yatai.
Then there was that time when he ate the prize in the Amazon village,
making ME fight everyone off..."

    Rei covered her mouth, trying to conceal her expression.

    The pigtailed boy gasped as he remembered another traumatic
experience. "Oh yeah! Then there was the time he tied me up, covered
me in fish sausages, dried and salted sardines, fish cakes, and then
tossed me into a pit full of starving, ravenous c-c-c-c-c-caaaats!"
He shuddered, his breathing rapid as he relived his traumatic
childhood experience.

    The long-haired girl clamped the other hand over her mouth,
containing an ever-growing internal force.

    "And it wasn't just once," Ranma half-shouted, "it was five,
ten, fifteen, a hundred times! And why?! Just so I could learn some
stupid technique called the Neko-ken! I learned it, sorta, but from
the second my pop tossed me in, those, those THINGS latched onto my
face and were bitin' me all over! They were tearin' me apart!"

    Suddenly, Tendo Rei fell down. Losing her grip on her mouth,
she burst out laughing.

    Ranma suddenly stopped and glared at her. "Hey! That wasn't
funny at all! It was horrible, it was-"

    "So," Rei forced out between chuckles, "you--HAH--got tossed--
heh--over and over again-hehehe-into a pit of starving cats, greased
down and covered in sardines and fish cakes and SAUSAGES?!" She
rolled around and laughed some more. "So THAT's why you ran off from
that cat earlier today! It all makes sense now! Bwahahahahaahaaa!"

    "B-b-b-b-but!" Ranma protested. "IT was AWFUL! Don't you think
Pop was bad for doing that to me?! I was only, like, five or six when
it happened!"

    Unseen by the two, a mysterious bubble popped up behind Ranma's
head, containing the image of a cute, tiny, super-deformed Genma with
his arms folded. He said, "You were at least ten, and it was only
four times, you big crybaby!" Then the bubble puffed away into a thin
wisp of white mist. "At least be grateful it wasn't s-s-squirrels!"

    "Oh, I'm sure it was hard for you," Rei remarked, nodding and
forcing a serious expression for a moment before lapsing back into
her chortling funk. "Hahahahaha!"

    The flustered boy glared at the chuckling girl.

    After a few moments, Rei managed to collect herself and get
back up. She put a hand on Ranma's shoulder and said, "Okay, look,
I've just met you, but like Setsuna said: if _he_ hadn't done that,
the second you found out about it, you probably would've done it on
your own."

    Ranma shook his head. "Nooooooo, I WOULDN'T!"

    Rei bobbed her head up and down. "Ooooh yes, you would."

    Even more flustered than before, the boy clenched his hands at
his sides. "I'm not THAT stupid!"

    "Yes, you are!"

    "Am not!"

    "Hahahah! Are too!"

    Ranma looked down, wedged his eyes shut, and waved a fist an
inch from his face. "Ooooh, Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeei!"

    Cutting Ranma off, a voice rang out in the street.

    "SAOTOME RANMA, PREPARE TO DIE!!!"

    *KRUNCH!* Ranma instinctively sidestepped the surprise attack.
He quickly analyzed the strike. First, the weapon: what looked like
a perfectly ordinary bamboo umbrella had broken the sidewalk's
concrete slab that he had been standing on a moment before.

    Second: the umbrella was being held by a teenaged boy with
short black hair held back by a yellow tiger-striped bandanna. He
wore a set of well-used travel gear, including but not limited to a
leather jerkin, loose-fitting pants and soft boots. His clenched
teeth and pulled-back lips revealed the fact that he had a very nice
pair of short fangs for canines.

    Third: the attacker seemed to be having trouble prying his
umbrella from the sidewalk.

    "I don't know this guy," Rei called over to Ranma from several
meters away, also having dodged in her own manner, "is he one of
_your_ friends?"

    Ranma looked at the aggressor for a moment. He looked familiar,
yes, but he couldn't quite place from where. "Uhhhhhhhhh, I dunno!"

    "Curse you, Ranma," the boy with the tiger-striped bandanna
spat, still trying to pry his weapon out of the ground, "because of
you, I have seen HELL!!!"

    "Really?" the pigtailed teen asked, folding his arms. "Don't
tell me the 'spore' engaged me to you, too?"

    "GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!" Ranma's attacker growled, fire burning
in his eyes. "And you're STILL mocking me!" He wrenched his umbrella
out of the ground and stepped toward Ranma, swinging his weapon fast
and hard at his target.

    Ranma casually stepped backward, out of the way of the
offending parasol's repeated passings. When he finally neared a wall
close to the sidewalk, he jumped over a swing of the umbrella, held
out his hand against the other boy's forehead and stood horizontally
against the bricks.

    Blind with rage, the bandannaed boy leaned forward, struggling
against the force holding him back, the wild melee passing well below
his prey.

    "It looks like he has something personal against you," Rei
noted from a safe distance.

    "No kidding," Ranma replied, holding back his attacker. "Wow,"
he commented at his opponent's complete incompetence, "you must
_really_ be angry. You're fighting like a preschooler!"

    The boy's opponent finally realized what was being done to him.
"RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" He took a
step back and pulled the bandanna off of his head, revealing beneath
it yet another bandanna of the same pattern and color.

    "Neat," Ranma quipped, hopping lightly to the ground. "Do you
dress up like a clown and do parties, too?"

    "Maybe I'll hire 'em for Haruka's next birthday," Rei laughed
carefully, backing off a little more, just in case.

    If the attacker was angry before, then that anger was a sweet,
romantic honeymoon in comparison to his current level of rage. He
looked between Rei and Ranma with extremely bloodshot eyes, put away
his umbrella, yanked off another bandanna and spun them around on
his index fingers.

    His arms folded, Ranma hummed some circus music, grinning
widely.

    "GRRRRR!" The fanged boy growled, spinning the bandannas
faster and faster until he let them fly simultaneously at both Rei
and Ranma.

    *ZRRRRRRRRR!!!* The bandannas made the sound of metal cutting
through wood as they sped through the air, arcing toward their
targets.

    *Bzzreow!* Halfheartedly stepping out of the way, Ranma
discovered a new shallow cut in his arm and sleeve. "Gah!"

    *Bzrow!* Rei stood firm and tilted her head to allow the
bandanna to pass without hitting her. She obviously miscalculated,
since a tiny tuft of black hair fell to the ground. "Uh oh, I think
he's getting serious, Ranma!"

    *Thwack!* Ranma dove in close to the other boy and swept his
feet out from under him, allowing the bandannaed one to drop.

    The traveler boy caught himself by the hands and pushed himself
back to his feet. "Hah!"

    *KERACK!* Ranma followed with an uppercut to the chin, hitting
just the right spot to confuse his attacker's circulatory system into
temporarily shutting off the blood to his brain.

    Ranma's opponent stumbled backward for a moment, beginning
to wobble. Nevertheless, he dove forward, swinging wildly with his
fists. "Curse. . . you. . . Ran-ma. . ."

    *Thump* The boy fell to the ground. He was unconscious, but his
face still reflected a distinct lack of inner peace.

    Triumphant, the pigtailed boy, smiled, clapped twice, looked up
at the sky and said, "Thank you!" He walked to stand near Rei, once
again continuing their journey to school. "Aaaah, I needed that," he
sighed, putting his arms behind his head.

    "You _are_ good," Rei complimented her companion. "A _lot_
better than Kuno, at least. He'd have gotten massacred against anyone
that could do all that."

    Ranma suddenly frowned. "Oh, great, I have to see that dang
Kuno-guy again at school, don't I?"

    The black-haired girl nodded. "Sure do, but look on the bright
side: being your 'knight in shining armor' is better than him
thinking he can get a date from you by beating you up."

    "And he wants to kill the real me."

    "Maybe he'll forget about it."

    "I wouldn't bet on it." Ranma shook his head. "They never
do..."

    Rei considered that. "On second thought, you may be right."

    They continued on their way to school.

    The boy Ranma had fought awoke a couple of minutes later, the
pain in his head serving only to fuel his unquenchable rancor towards
the pigtailed martial artist."

    "Soon, Ranma," he growled, "soon I will see you SUFFER for all
you've put me through!!!"

    *VROOM!*Thunk-thunk!* A motorcycle driven by a tall young woman
in a boy's school uniform swerved onto the sidewalk and bounced over
the boy, leaving a tire mark on his back. "OOOF!"

    "Bye!" a pink-haired girl in a cutesy white and blue uniform
on the back of the bike called back to him, waving with one hand.

    The near-roadkill jumped back up and shook his fist at the
sky, shouting out in his depression, "Rrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaanmaaaaaaaa,
this is all your fault!!!"

^_^

    "Hey, be careful!" Genma shouted at the motorcycle's driver,
hanging on to the older girl's shoulders. "You could've knocked me
off!"

    "Oh, FORGIVE me, Saotome-sama," Haruka replied in a mock-
respectful tone, the gleam of the sun reflecting back at the little
girl from the motorcycle helmet. "Like this any better?"

    *VROOOOOOOOOM!!!* Haruka popped a wheelie and hit a speed bump
at sixty miles per hour, flying into the air while wildly spinning
around the front axle.

    "WAAAAAAAH!" Genma cried, her puffy pink cotton candy hair
blowing back in the wind. Her legs separated from the seat and she
clung horizontally to Haruka for dear life.

    *RRRK!*VROOM!* The motorbike screeched a little and wobbled
back and forth when it landed, but a little creative maneuvering on
Haruka's part kept the balance and speed where they should be.

    *Thunk!* Genma popped back into the seat behind the other girl.

    On the side of the road, a pair of elderly police officers in
a squad car talked among themselves as the mounted pair passed.

    "Hey there," the first began, pointing after the motorcyclist,
"we better go catch 'em! What they're doing's illegal!"

    "What d'ya mean?" the second asked. "Having two girls on a
one-seater and speeding in a school zone or having that big, pink
hairdo?"

    "Sure got me there!"

    "Oh ho ho ho!" the two laughed, mockingly pointing at the focus
of their joke.

^_^

    Furinkan Stormtroopers led away the injured students at
gunpoint, marching them off toward detention. The teenagers had
their hands placed on their heads in a gesture of surrender.

    "But we were being mind-controlled!" one student protested,
wishing he could at least rub the laser-blasted pock-mark in his
shoulder so that _maybe_ he could tone down the horrible stinging
sensation permeating the entire right half of his body.

    One of the Stormtroopers behind them snorted and replied in
his digitally filtered voice, "That old excuse isn't going to work
this time, kid."

    "But it's true!" Shiko protested in her typical, absurdly high-
pitched tone.

    "It is!" Hiroshi added.

    "Yeah!" Daisuke agreed.

    "Ask us if we care."

    "Do you care?" Belldandy, completely devoid of any guile,
ventured to ask.

    *Thump!* The lead troopers nudged the rear students along
with the butt of their rifles and replied, "No!"

    "Delinquent-scum," another trooper commented with disgust.

    The vice principal had Fortranda by the neck, lifting her over
a foot off the ground as he began the interrogation.

    "ACK-ACK!" choked Fortranda, grasping at the man's wrists.

    A nearby hall monitor came close and reported, "The drawn
energy is not inside this wing, and no transmissions other than hers
were made."

    The black-clad man turned his attention back to the youma.
"Where are those emissions you intercepted?" he asked in a deep,
terrifying voice that only a Dark Lord of the Sith could possibly
hope to manage. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THAT ENERGY?!"

    "I-ACK! Don't know about any energy," the youma lied, not
letting her disguise drop for one instant, "I'm--ACK!!!--just a part-
time teacher, subbing for--AAAAH!--Professor Tomoe!" She frantically
pried at her captor's unyielding fingers with both hands, her eyes
bulging from the pressure.

    The vice-principal tightened his grip, horribly disdainful of
those that would DARE lie to him. "If you are a substitute, then
_WHERE_ IS YOUR PERMISSION SLIP?!"

    Youma Fortranda flailed around in agony as the force on her
neck became unbearable. "ACK-ACK-ACK!"

    *Crack-Crack!* Several vertebrae in the youma's neck fragmented
and her expression went blank. Her disguise faded, revealing her true
form as a gaunt, shriveled-up grey female monster.

    *THUD* The black-clad man threw the dead creature to the floor.
Upon impact, it turned into a fine grey powder and vanished.

    "Hall-monitor!" The vice-principal turned to face one of his
men.

    "Yes, Vice-Principal Vader!"

    "TEAR THIS WING APART AND BRING ME THE INSTIGATORS; I WANT
THEM ALIVE!!!"

    "At once, sir!"

    "And Hall-monitor," Vice-Principal Vader added, just as the
Hall-monitor had taken out his mobile phone.

    "Yes, sir!"

    "I meant that figuratively. The Principal will be most
displeased if he has to rebuild the school again this month."

    The Hall-monitor quickly pocketed his phone. "Y-yes, Vice-
Principal."

    Rei poked her head through the smoking entrance hole, frowned
and backed out, covering Ranma's eyes and leading him out by the
hand. "Uhhhhhhh, we're going to take that _other_ route to class
today, okay?"

    "Why?" Ranma asked, puzzled.

    "It's the vice-principal. He's rather... harsh on tardy
students."

    "What does he do? Make people stand outside of class, holding
buckets of water? Gives them bad haircuts or something stupid like
that?"

    "No, he freezes them in carbonite and sends them to see the
Principal."

    "..."

    "Yeah, that's what I said when I first heard about it."

---

To be continued...

What? Everyone saw that one coming, right? I mean, it's
the only logical solution!

Anyone that sees something that needs fixin', by all
means, don't keep it to yourself! ^_-

Until later...

-------------------------------
Benjamin A. Oliver
boredcollective@aol.com

    "We are the Bored. Lower your shields and surrender your fics.
     We will add your standup and slapstick comedy to our own.
     Your humor will adapt to entertain us.
     Resistance is and always has been: Futile."

Collective works available at:
http://rakhal.com/florestica/ben-oliver/index.html

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