Subject: fanfic: KOP pt3
From: Matthew Trotter
Date: 1/11/1996, 10:35 AM
To: Fanfic ML

   There have been many card games played throughout time, most of them 
were played in saloons, by men bearing a remarkable resemblance to Kenny 
Rogers or Mel Gibson.  Many others were played in dingy apartments by 
people named Oscar, usually to the dismay of his room mate Felix[1].  At any 
rate all these games had one thing in common.  They all failed to include 
three people:
      A young angry man with a spiky red dye job, five metal stars stuck to 
        his forehead and a wardrobe from Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself" 
        video.
      A young depressing man with long brown hair, a tie-dyed T-shirt, and a 
        way of mopping about everything in general.
      A young nervous man with short brown hair, the latest hippest wardrobe 
        (usually black), an acute paranoia and a degree in sociology.
   Actually there were a lot of other people left out of these card games, 
but they are pretty much irrelevant since none of them were in on the 
card game that Sarcasm interrupted.

   He found Anger playing cards with Despair and Doubt.  (You always find 
things in the last place you look.)  Anger didn't really strike Sarcasm as 
the cards type, violent and psychopathic maybe, but cards?  No.
   "Got any queens, Despair?"
   "No.  Go fish."
   "Look Neil," shouted Anger leaning over the table, "if your holding out 
on me, I'm gonna ram this deck of cards up your nose."
   "Don't shout at me Vivian, your really bumming me out.  Its not in the 
script.  Your supposed to say damn and draw a card."
   "Look Vivian, you can't even stay in character for our brief cameo."
   "Oh yea, Doubt, who is being badly portrayed by Rick, then why did you 
just call me Vivian if your so wonderful?"[2]
   You just can't get good help these days, "Excuse me."
   Doubt hid his hand from view, "Yes what is it Sarcasm?  Can't you see 
we're busy right now?"
   "You know Doubt, I've never had busy defined in such an abstract 
form?  Thank you for bringing this wisdom in to my life."
   "Oh, well your welcome."
   "That was an insult you git," growled Anger drawing a card.
   "Nobody asked you Vivian," snapped Doubt.
   "Anger," suggested Fellowship helpfully.
   "Oh, right.  Nobody asked you Viv. . . Anger."
   "Well what did you want Sarcasm?  I'm thinking of killing myself you 
know."
   "Well Despair, my original intent was to solicit rope, but since your 
feeling down, I'm going to let you take care of Fellowship and Emotion 
while I go talk to The Man."
   "Oh heavy.  You can't lay this on me.  I'm too young to take on these 
responsibilities.  Why don't you ask Anger."
   "OY!  Neil you stinkin' hippie I'm gonna  . . ."
   "Hey Anger, take care of the kids for me."
   "Do I look like the nurturing type?!  I ain't baby sitting!"
   "What's wrong Viv . . . Anger, afraid of a little woman's work?"
   "Oh great Rick, er Doubt, then you'll do it?  Thanks, nice talking to 
you.  Gotta go.  Be back soon.  Bye," Sarcasm stalked out of the room.
   Emotion looked around the table, they were all her brothers, she 
didn't know what the problem was, "I like 'Go Fish', can I play too?"
   "Bugger," mumbled Anger, "Rick I'm killing you after this."

                                *

[1] Not the cat.  Felix T. Cat rooms with Sonic T. Hedgehog.
[2] If you don't get it, go find someone with some tapes of "The Young 
Ones".  Then get two VCR's and copy the tapes.  Then mail me a copy.  
Finally, find a sturdy metallic object to bang your head against for an 
hour, and if this clears everything up, then its a good bet your monitors 
on the fritz.

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

   "Let me see if I have this strait, future-son-in-law.  A man appeared 
out of a rock."
   "Yes."
   "And then cured you and Ryoga of your respective curses."
   "Yes."
   "And then changed Akane and Ryoga into normal sane people?"
   "Yes."
   "And you don't like Akane to act like a 'tired old woman'?"
   "Yes."
   "I think I have a solution."
   "Yes," said Ranma tentatively, he didn't like the way she was smiling.
   "You can abandon Akane and marry my Shampoo."
   Ranma fell over, Nabiki scowled, "Did we forget to mention that Akane 
already has her wedding dress picked out?"
   There was a crash from up stairs and Shampoo came charging down the 
stairs, "Ranma no marry stupid Akane!"
   "Oh no," groaned Ranma as Shampoo flung herself against him.
   "Saotome!  You told me that you didn't want Shampoo, yet here I find 
you molesting her," yelled Mousse rushing into the room.
   Nabiki blinked, "You know of course, that Ranma is over there," she 
said helpfully pointing at an empty chair.
   Shampoo looked longingly into Ranma's eyes, "You no really say you no 
want Shampoo, do you?"

   Nabiki had always thought Ranma was a bad liar.  He always started to 
sweat, and stutter, and he'd always get that giant guilty grin on his 
face.  This time it was really bad, she couldn't make out a word he was 
saying.  Not that it mattered, Shampoo probably took one look and decided 
to kill him on the spot.  Well, Ranma would have to fend for himself on 
that front, "Do you know what all this could mean?"
   Cologne looked away from the fight[1], "The man you describe sounds 
like a sorcerer.  I once heard a legend of a sorcerer imprisoned in stone."
   CRASH! "What happened to him?"
   "He was imprisoned, as far as I know he should be there to this day." 
      WHAM! BANG! WHACK! THUD! SNAP! CRACKLE! POP! "Stupid Mousse, why you 
beat up chair?[2]"
   "Why would anyone lock up someone who could cure curses?"
   "The legends spoke of the sorcerer as evil, and said that he was bound 
to the stone while summoning a demon.  The legends also say that the 
demon somehow escaped and killed the priest that bound the sorcerer to 
the stone."
   "This Morphine person was looking for a demon[3] . . ."
      "Shampoo, forget Ranma," Mousse pleaded with the table.
   "If that is so, there could be great evil loose in the city.  I think 
it would be wise to keep an eye on this Morphine person."
      "Stupid Mousse, why you talk to table.  Shampoo marry Ranma, at least 
he whole man, not duck like you."
   "We don't know where he went."
      "That's right Saotome.  You were cured.  Yet you didn't send this 
miracle man here?!"
      "Mousse right Ranma.  Why you no try to help Shampoo."
   "We should begin searching for him.  I do not think it would be wise 
for him to be free to do as he likes.  I have a feeling that his miracles 
have ulterior motives."
      "Wait you guys, its not how you think.  Ryoga and Akane were . . ."
      "Ranma think of Akane first?  Then Ranma die!!"
   CRASH!  WHAM![4]  BAM!  
      "Don't worry Shampoo, I'll help you destroy Ranma!"
   Nabiki and Cologne watched in amazement.  SPLASH!  CRUNCH!  SPLATTER!
      "Mousse?"
      "Yes Shampoo," asked Mousse expectantly.
      "Why you beat up ramen?"

                               *

[1] Shampoo Vs Ranma, 35-0, final score.  Mousse Vs chair, 20-18, after 
two over times.
[2] There were some translation difficulties here, this could also have 
been, "Stupid Mousse, why you beat up Rice Crispies?"
[3] There are two divergent theories on what Nabiki was thinking at this 
point.  The first is from the Hopeless Romantic school, it states that 
Nabiki's first thought was: "Poor Akane, her soul must have been taken over!"
Of course followed by, "I bet there's money in this somewhere . . ."  The 
second theory comes from the Church of $KaChing$, it states that Nabiki's 
first thought was, "I wonder how much he'd pay me to catch the demon?"
This followed with, "I bet Ranma will drag the demon back here if I tell 
him it'll help Akane."  When asked which theory was closer, Nabiki replied 
with, "Do I look like the sort of girl who would take advantage of my 
poor sisters misfortune?"
[4] Another translation problem.  For ease of reading the statement 
"George Michael and Whatshisface" was translated as WHAM!

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

   He was letting Akane down.  All he had to do was find Ranma and 
Nabiki.  But of course he hadn't thought about it before he'd rushed 
off.  Now he didn't even have his map of Tokyo with him.  Ryoga shook his 
head.  He really wished he'd brought the map.  Right now he was lost, but 
with the map he was sure he'd know where he was, after all how many 
mountains can Tokyo have?
   Ryoga crested Mt. Tokyo[1] and looked around.  He'd never realized 
just how big Tokyo was.  To include a nature reserve as well as a 
mountain.  Damn.  This would have to be the biggest thing on the Tokyo 
map, why did he have to forget it.
   A scrap of paper caught by the wind blew up against his chest.  He 
grabbed it before the wind could blow it away again.  Could it be?  A 
map?  No.  No, it was just a picture of some girls.  Of . . . of  . . . 
of Akane, and Ranma?  But they're both girls.  Why?  Why are they holding 
each other like that?  Can it be?  Can Akane prefer Ranma as a girl?  It 
can't be that Akane is . . . is. . . and Ranma knew all along . . . and 
he never told me . . . and . . . and . . .
   The walls of Ryoga's temporary sanity creaked under the strain of the 
emotions surging through him.  Little fragments of memory started to 
return.  Ranma stealing his bread.  Ranma kicking him into that spring.  
Ranma beating him up in front of Akane . . . . The walls shattered . . .
   "RANMA YOU BASTARD!  I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU," Yelled Ryoga pounding 
his fist into the ground.
   Before all the pain, despair and anger could settle itself back in, the 
world shifted.  It seemed to slide sideways.  Ryoga knew the sensation, 
it had happened before, he was falling.  The world seemed to be doing 
barrel rolls, one minute there was the ground rushing up, then the sky 
rushing away.  Then darkness.

                                *

[1] He had to call it something, and since it was in Tokyo, what better name.

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

   Ryoga landed between two rocks with a sickening crack.  That alone was 
a broken neck, he knew these things, he was an expert.  The Man walked 
around the rocks to the body.  Its neck was twisted in a very unnatural 
way, a good break too.  It was hard to snap someone's neck that way, very 
clean.  The Man looked at Ryoga, "Well your dead now.  Lets see if we 
can't get you found."
   The Man noticed the picture as it drifted on the wind.  He reached out . . . 
and the picture appeared in his hand, "There you go.  Don't want any 
looses ends now do we?"

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

   Ranma tried not to limp as they walked, but after Shampoo had beat him 
up twice in a row, it was hard.  Nabiki was walking quickly, he had a 
feeling it was because she wanted him to suffer, "Come on Nabiki, slow down."
   "Ranma, did you hear anything Cologne said?"
   "Not after Shampoo attacked me."
   "She said that there was an evil sorcerer in the stone."
   "Well I didn't see one.  The only thing I saw was this Morphine guy."
   "Ranma are you dense?"
   "What?  You mean Morphine is the evil sorcerer?  But he cured me and 
Ryoga!"
   "Yea, but look what he did to Akane and Ryoga."
   "But where do we look for him?"
   "Ranma!  Nabiki!  Where have you two been?"
   "Uh, Akane, we were. . . that is we . . . Imean . . ."
   Nabiki looked at him like he was a complete imbecile, "We went to see 
if we could get Shampoo and Cologne to help cater the wedding."
   He watched Akane look at Nabiki, and then at him, uh oh.
   "Ranma.  What were you and Nabiki doing."
   "We .. .we were just . . .uh talking to Shampoo and Cologne."
   "Then where is Ryoga?"
   "Ryoga?"
   "I sent him there to find you."
   Nabiki looked at Akane like she might sprout mushrooms, "Are you ok 
Akane?  Ryoga?  Ryoga could get lost in a closet."
   Akane stared back at Nabiki, "Ranma, why don't you go home.  I need to 
talk to Nabiki privately."
   He looked to Nabiki hesitantly, this didn't sound like the normal 
Akane.  If she was jealous she normally took it out on him, not everyone else.
   "Is there something you two need to say to each other?"
   Nabiki turned to him, "Ranma, go look for Morphine.  I need to talk to 
Akane."

   Ranma shuffled his feet as he walked, this was really bad.  Akane was 
really pissed.  How could she be thinking he and Nabiki . . . why?  She 
was always jealous of Shampoo and Ukyou and Kodachi, but her sister?  
Something has to be done.  At this rate she would be accusing Kasumi for 
making dinner . . .
   "Hey Ranma."
   He looked around, and there was Ukyou.  It must have been his 
subcontious that brought him looking for a friend.  She was really the 
only friend he had, besides Akane.  Well, maybe Ryoga.  But he was more 
like a brother that you were always fighting with.  Maybe that's what was so 
bad about what happened, almost all of his friends were now acting like 
complete weirdoes.  Ryoga acting all friendly, and Akane jealous of her own 
family.  He looked at Ukyou, it seemed like you could always count on her 
to be there when you needed someone to talk to.

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

   It was the biggest place in the universe.  It dwarfed the universe in 
fact.  You could stand at the center of the universe and look out at its 
vastness and then come here and feel even smaller.  Its halls were 
infinite, and its vaulted ceilings arched up forever.  The one true hall 
of the gods.  Nobody liked to come here.  It was creepy.  If it had been 
full of gods, that might have been different, but it wasn't.  It was 
empty.  The only sound were occasional foot steps and phantom voices.  You 
could always find HIM here.  And HE was always in The Room.  It was the 
room with the true table of the gods[1] in it.  It made him nervous to be 
around that much power.  And HE was always there.  Doing something.  
No one knew what.  It was unnerving.
   As he approached The Room, Sarcasm could hear voices, they sounded 
feminine.  They seemed to be discussing some principle of higher math of 
some kind.  They sounded vaguely familiar.
   There were three "women" in the room.  One had bat wings small horns on 
her forehead and a tail.  She also had an incredible figure.  It was the 
kind of figure that made men into drooling idiots.  She had on a blue satin 
evening gown that displayed all her curves.  She was intently watching the 
second woman.
   The second woman wore black leather pants, not hot pants, but rugged 
leather.  The kind of pants you want to wear when you fall off a motor 
cycle.  She had on a T-shirt that clung to her in a very suggestive way.  
She had on big thick work gloves, the kind you might use to solder with.  
In contrast to her clothing she was very thin, fine and delicate 
looking.  Her skin was black as night and her shoulder length silver hair 
was pulled back in a pony tail.  She was pointing at the table and 
spouting off some schpeal about aligning sub-atomic forces to create a 
gravity well dense enough to create an outward expanding wave of creation 
instead of destruction.
   The third woman spoke in a voice that was at once both sensual and 
commanding, "Chagrin, it always comes down to blowing something up 
doesn't it," it was the kind of voice that made you want to find some way 
of serving it.  The woman had the body to go with the voice.  It was the 
archetype body for the perfect woman.  She too had midnight black skin, 
and silver hair.  Her hair hung in long locks down to her ankles, it was 
as thick as a lion's mane and far more majestic.  She wore a long red skirt 
slit to the hip on either side to reveal her long perfect legs.  She wore 
a red halter with a white pattern that bore a distinct resemblance to 
spiders webs.  The halter was barely enough to cover her, and was 
intentionally small.  It left just enough to the imagination to make it 
hard to look away.  She had an aura of mystery about her.  Nothing that 
could be pinned down, just the feeling that there was something you 
didn't know.
   "But this is a different kind of explosion!  Hi Sarcasm.  It won't 
destroy, it will create."
   "Over time anything will fester and create something new.  This 
explosion just sets things turning.  He's not here.  Its still random chance 
that dictates the actual make up of things.  It won't do what we need."
   Sarcasm was rarely at a loss for words, there was always something 
sarcastic you could say about anything.  Now he was having a hard time 
figuring out what he was supposed to say to this.  They knew him.  They 
knew what he was looking for.  They probably . . .
   "Yes we know what your thinking.  He told us to wait for you and to 
dissuade you from interfering in his plan," said the third woman.
   "But what is his plan?!  Who the hell is this Morphine?!"

                               *

[1] Unlike the copies they had, this table was all powerful. (Think of a 
Cray vs. a PC.)