Subject: [FFML] Re: [C&C, MST-style][fanfic][draft][Ranma/MKR] Fire in the Water, chapter one
From: "The Eternal Lost Lurker" <lurkerdrome@sbcglobal.net>
Date: 2/13/2007, 11:28 PM
To: <ssjamis@yahoo.com>, <ffml@anifics.com>

Major thanks, Lurker, for not only giving me a good read but also a
good MSTing opportunity, all for my birthday to boot.  In this case, I
MST because I love... this first chapter was pretty good, but I
couldn't quite resist with all the possibilities.

That's what it's there for, to enjoy. ^_^

Apologies myself for the formatting; I bet I broke a paragraph or two
in here.

Yeah, mail clients and large chunks of prose text tend not to play nicely.

The thin, cool mist he'd encountered at every step of his journey so
far thickened as he descended further down the trail.

Ahh, entering Los Angeles...

Nah, more like San Francisco. SF has a thick, cool mist that smells of the
sea, whereas the mist in Los Angeles is hot, and stinks of petrol, sulfur,
urine, and crack cocaine. :)

He had to tread more carefully as visibility was reduced to
practically nothing. Ahead of him, he heard the sound of water
dripping. He continued onward.

Continuing and continuing, more and more onward, as he continued.

In a continually onward direction.

The mist began to part, and a spectacle from hell unfolded before him.

Van Nuys!

*GASP!* The horror!!

At the opposite end of the valley, tied with double sets of bonds to a
splintered, uneven bamboo crucifix, was a young girl,

Britney Spears doing another music video?

Zing!

One set of the bonds lashing her slim wrists to the rough bamboo were
dull copper, and looked to be somewhat frayed, strands straying from
the braiding.

Uh-oh, Grissom's gonna find some of it...

"Well...she came with her own bondage ropes. Convenient."

if the rust-coloured stains on them were any indication,
all had seen recent use.

While I understand rust would make the torture worse, abusing
 her poor skin, does the guy clean them and just not dry them?

That's supposed to be dried, crusty blood. :P Against iron from that period
in time, it'd look more like rust than anything.

Angry tears streamed from his eyes in tandem with the fluids trickling
down her bruised thighs,

Synchronized emissions!
The Olympics are getting desperate...

I think that'd triple the ratings.

mirrored by the agonised, shame-filled tears rolling down the abused
girl's dry, cracked cheeks.

You fiend!  Torturing her is bad enough, but at least MOISTURIZE her!

She needs to be a trampoline with a face first.

Disclaimers:

No bamboo was harmed in the making of this fanfic.

[Hikaru] "Except that of the pervert who raped me." *brandishes hedge
clippers menacingly*

Ranma barely noticed the sign which bounced off the back of his head;

Though the next thing he knew, he was being presented to the Tendo
 girls.
<Ranma> Sorry about this.

Not in this fic. :P

*Crap!*

Otherwise known as "the last time Ranma goes to the Nekohanten on
 Mexican day."

Habanero ramen con carne?

Standing on one foot and taking a deep, calming breath,

...he prepared to rub his tummy and pat his head.

The final test for grandmastery of the Anything-Goes school.

the horrifying and graphic events from the nightmare were livid, like
a fresh, raw wound.

The events were a dullish-blue discoloration?
(Real-life nitpicking: adjective "livid" is modifying noun "events",
 and the adjective livid carries a connotation of physical damage,
 whereas the adjective "vivid" may imply that the events (and the
 images of the events, the sentence above) were unforgettable rather
 than physically damaging)

You do have a very good point here. I didn't want to use 'vivid' because it
screwed up the analogy, but...hmm. We'll work on it.

"Fine," Akane snapped, turning away in a huff. They continued on in
tense silence for almost a full minute.

As they continued on, onwardly continuing in an onward fashion.

Nah, they're doing it a bit different and continuing sideways.

Ranma shrugged. "Eh, Pop'd bitch me out for sayin' anything about it,
cuz it's probably not very manly or nothin'." He paused. "But that
dream...really bothered me, Akane. An'...I guess I hadda tell someone,
an' maybe, I dunno, I guess I just trust you more than I trust anybody
else."

<Ranma> Wot's wrong wif de way I tolk?
<Stewie Griffin> Heavens, you don't so much speak the language as chew
 on it and spit it out.

*gives that regurgitated joke a C-*

Akane's face grew warm. "Ranma..." Unconsciously, her hand stole
closer to his...

<Akane> Honk honk!

H_H!

Beating little kids to within an inch of their lives leaves Akane all
 wistful.

Awwww yeah.

Ten minutes later, the two girls were dashing madly through the
streets.

Cool, it's the Dirty Pair!

Ranma's ALWAYS wearing a Dirty Pair.

"HE HAD IT COMIN'!"

Shouldn't that be " 'e 'ad it comin' "?

We're not doing bad British accents here, and that joke has officially worn
itself thin. :P

Akane stared in worry at the redhead, who was struggling to break
free-- and should be able to do so easily. Yet her eyes had glazed
over, and she was standing there screaming her head off.

And that's Ranma's impression of an air raid siren.  Care to hear her
 do a horny wildebeest?

I'd rather hear her do a horny ME. H_H;;

She cast an annoyed glance at the heads which were popping out of
windows all over the school building, but her annoyance was
overshadowed by worry.

Don't the kids inside *need* those heads in order to learn?

They'll never use 'em anyway...

And were her eyes playing tricks on her, or had Ranma's eyes turned
red for a few moments?

If so, it was time to call Ben Stein, Action Moisture Man!

Woooow.

Ranma grumbled as she adjusted the embarassingly short, tight bloomers
she'd been forced into wearing.

Crucifying, torturing, AND fetish outfits!  Oh noes!!

Yeah, this fanfic is hell for all involved.

And that's when it happened.

<Ranma> *smooch* Hey, baby, I've been waiting for hours!

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Blood rushed to the redhead's face, and a look of pure, unbridled fury
wrote itself across her features. A hot wind began buffeting Akane and
the other girls nearby, who backed away cautiously,

For some reason, Ranma decided that styling her hair was of paramount
concern with her Clairol 9200.

You can dry off an entire humpback whale in five minutes with one of those,
no joke.

Akane responded by smashing a folding chair over his head until he
collapsed.

And when that didn't work, she threw him through the Spanish
announcer's
 table.

>From the top of the steel cage.

As her memories slowly reconstructed themselves, she knew that she
was in the district of Tokyo in which she lived, and that her home
was...that way!

<Ranma> Ziggy, Al, I'm comin'!

Oh boy.

Heading slowly that way, she found the fresh offerings left at the
white stone, and scanned the name engraved there.

"Hillary Clinton's Sincerity"

Buried right next to "Bill Clinton's Credibility"?

Her eyes widened, a brand new and wholly unwelcome terror filling her
soul.  "No..." she whispered scratchily.

It couldn't be true. It couldn't.

<Ranma> Anna Nicole, how could you?  You were my inspiration!!

Nah, if that were the case, Ranma would marry Kunou's dad then kill him off
for the family fortune.

This was fun, in all honesty, and I can't even name the last time I
drafted a MSTing in only about six hours (and around a workday to
boot).  Hope the speed doesn't show too badly though.

As above, good luck writing this Lurker, I look forward to new chapters
myself.

Thanks for reading and for the entertaining MST. ^_^

================================
Did you hear about the impotent robot?
Turns out he had a missing fux capacitor.
              ~~*~~
The Eternal Lost Lurker
www.lurkerdrome.com



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