Today was the usual day in Nerima.
Mousse had been sent out on a typical errand to purchase some
supplies for the Nekohanten.
He sighed, feeling uncharacteristically depressed. It seemed like
nothing ever changed. He still couldn't beat Ranma. He still professed
undying love for his divine goddess of the purple hair, who still coldly
rebuffed him (usually with water!!!) every single time... He still
couldn't even touch Cologne in combat... Ranma still fought a LOT with
Akane... Still nothing could separate the two... Come to think of it,
Ranma still beat EVERYBODY else... That little perverted ogre still went
around on his daily and nightly panty-and-bra raids... To his knowledge,
Ryoga still got lost... and Ukyo was still lonely... and Kasumi's
presence still made Dr. Tofu into a babbling idiot... Kodachi was still
crazy... Tatewaki was still... well... himself...
"Am I forever doomed to live like this? Like a rerun of some movie
that stays the same every time you watch? Failure every single day?
Will I never win my Shampoo's love?" Mousse shouted his angst to the
heavens. In response, a bucket of water slammed into him from the
apartment building he'd had the misfortune to stand under. Quack, quack.
*** time passes***
"RANMA NO BAKA!!!!"
Mousse, after dousing himself with the usual hot water and
adjusting his glasses, was attracted by the sounds of pain and violence
originating from the Tendo dojo... He arrived there in just in time...
to witness the technique that would change his life forever.
Before his eyes, Akane pulled a tremendous mallet... from NOWHERE.
And sent Ranma off for a tour of the heavenly skies.
Mousse's hands twitched in stunned revelation as he fell off of his
perch on the wall surrounding the dojo.
"MY GOD!!! Such technique! Such form! I thought I was a master
of my Art, but before me is the TRUE master!!!"
Nabiki glanced. "Could have sworn I heard somebody..." Her ear
itched. She hated that. It usually signaled one of the rare times when
she missed something.
Mousse leapt to the rooftops in desperate anguish. "I truly am
nothing!!! I am master of NOTHING! I lose all the TIME!!! I can't
even do what that clumsy, half-trained girl did!! AAAAAAARRRRGH!" He
repeated his litany to himself as he blindly sought something...
anything... that would ease his pain. He got trampled as Happosai
muttered, "Coming through." Then he got trampled by the hordes of
angered females in pursuit of the master.
He slumped helplessly on the street, resignedly waiting for death
to come for him in the form of some fleeting cargo truck. He waited, and
waited... and waited. Always before, losing to Ranma or Shampoo or
Cologne, he'd always consoled himself that he still had the Art... But
he didn't, not really...
"Hello?" A high, cheery voice sought out his ears. "Why are you
sitting in the middle of the skating rink?"
Mousse groaned. "I can't even kill myself right."
A blurred, slender hand extended itself in front of him (at least,
that's what he guessed it was). He chanced it, and took the hand. He
was helped up to his feet, and his glasses gently handed back to him.
"Are these yours?"
He put them on. By all the times he swore his undying love to
Shampoo... this girl was CUTE. Silky brown hair that almost reached her
waist... The kindest eyes. Her features were a little too irregular for
real beauty - her nose was too long and her jaw a little too square...
but she was still incredibly pretty. He tried to knock some sense into
himself. Shampoo, you fool! Remember your vow!
A little voice nagged at the back of his head, "But she doesn't
CARE! She never cared."
"Yes... thank you..." he spoke a little unsteadily.
"You looked kind of down, are you OK?" he read concern in her
eyes... and curiosity... and the most utterly beautiful gentleness.
He sighed again. "Yes... well... I just discovered that I'm not
as good at something as I had thought I was." He chuckled. "Sounds
silly, doesn't it? But I thought that I was at least the best at this
one thing... And then I see someone doing it in a way that I've never
been able to..." He shook his head, and noticed how dusty and worn his
white robes had become.
She tilted her head to look up more closely into his face. "So why
don't you try to learn how to do that thing you couldn't do before?
Ranma learns new things that way all the time."
Stunned, he turned his face to the skies. "You're right!!! How
could I have forgotten! I will go train now!!!" He laughed insanely as
he leaped to the rooftops.
Kasumi straightened, hefting her groceries. "Hmm... That was that
Mousse character, wasn't it? What a nice man."
"I must try Akane's Hammer technique!"
He concentrated, beads of sweat dripping from his brow... and
pulled out of the nothingness... a tiny hammer the size of a
toothbrush. He sighed again.
"Again!"
A pencil.
"Again!"
A rice-cooker.
"Aaaa!"
A bottle of rum. "Hmm... Two more years." He put it away.
A Playboy magazine. He blushed. "Wonder what that was doing
there..." He put it away.
He tried, again and again.
The sun set, and rose, and set, and rose.
Exhausted, still standing on the roof of Dr. Tofu's clinic, Mousse
decided to try, one last time. He grunted and struggled. "This one's
pretty big..." After a minute of struggle... He pulled forth a great
hammer of silvery metal inscribed with many oddly curving runes, fully a
meter long from handle to the immense head. Mousse stumbled, almost
falling off the roof because of the weight.
"Woof!!! I didn't think hammers could be this heavy!!!" He
noticed the tiny fine print on one side of the blocky head. "This...
is... the hammer... Hmm..." He wondered how he could be reading this,
as it wasn't in Japanese, or Chinese. "... The Hammer of Thor... Only
He with the Cause And the Right can wield this hammer... No one else can
even lift it." Mousse scratched his head in puzzlement. "Guess that
means that I'm Thor. Who's Thor???"
He heaved the huge thing up with one hand, and took a few practice
swings. Despite the massiveness, it whistled through the air with
incredible speed.
He sighed. "Well, at least I've got the mallet thing down... Now
if only I could get the speed Akane has." He put it away. And noticed
that he'd lost his glasses. "Wait... how did I read..." He whipped out
the hammer again. He put it away. He whipped it out. He put it away.
He whipped it out. He put it away.
He brought it out, and laughed, long and hard. "I... Can...
SEEEEE!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Shampoo! You will be mine! NOTHING CAN
STOP ME NOOOW!!!" Thunder roared in the background.
He carelessly swung the hammer up in an arc... and found himself
flying through the sky. "Whoops! Uh... How do I stoooooooooop!!!"
Okay, so maybe it wasn't a normal day in Nerima.
_____
Nikholas F. Toledo Zu
presents
A Spur of the Moment Fanfic
by Nikholas 'Rain Man' F. Toledo:
The Adventures of Mousse - God of Thunder!!!
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