Avenging
Omake 1
Wrecks N' Effex

This one was a far too silly to actually fit into the Avenging storyline.
That and it contradicts some plans I have for the characters within. But I
thought you might be amused if I typed it out and let you see a few more
strands of the twisted skein of my mind. Also going for the A!MG triple
feature, evidently.

Any and all C+C is appreciated. You can contact me at
sommer@3rdm.net

All of my fics are stored at the following:

Larry F's new address at:
http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/

Or R+C books at:
http://dbsommer.rcbooks.org

And also Angcobra is now storing all of my fics, at
http://s5.sexshare.com/~angcobra/dbsommer.html

Standard Disclaimer; Marvel Comics owns the rights to the Marvel characters.
The various anime ones belong to their various creators as well

One last note: That beginning is a little stilted. That is intentional.
You'll see when you read. No prereaders either.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lo... Xel...Xelloki had a problem.

Xelloki was the God of Mischief.

Being mischievous meant harassing people. Xelloki liked harassing people. He
liked harassing his half-bro... sis... sibling most of all, and preferably
to death.

But Xelloki wasn't allowed to be mischievous with Thor. Odin had said so in
an Imperial Edict. People that went against the All-Father's Imperial Edicts
didn't do so for long. That was because they ended up too dead to break them
more than once. They got to go to Hel instead of Valhalla. Usually the way
Odin sent people to Hel involved ungodly amounts of pain. That was
impressive, since Odin was a god, and doing ungodly things was not easy when
one was a god.

Sif also said Xelloki wasn't allowed to be mischievous with Thor. Sif was
not the All-Father. Sif could not issue Imperial Edicts. Her threats were
only backed by her sword arm and her own female creativity.

Xelloki was far more afraid of Sif than Odin. Angry women were far more
creative when it came to hurting men then men could be to one another.

But Xelloki really, really wanted to harass Thor. Hercules wasn't going to
be enough, especially since the stupid Olympian was wasting time fooling
around with women in Rio de Janeiro instead of acting on the information the
God of Mischief had provided. He was not driven by such base lusts, and
could not understand Hercules' mentality. Exactly how many wenches did the
muscle-bound clod have to sleep with before he was going to be satisfied? At
the rate Hercules was currently going, Xelloki wondered if perhaps it was
going to take all of them. Still, such lasciviousness would serve its
purpose in time, assuming Thor didn't get him... herself killed in the
meantime.

No, Xelloki didn't want to wait for Hercules to travel to Japan. He wanted
to be mischievous with Thor now.

Was meddling worth Sif's wrath?

Didn't a god have to be true to his purpose?

"Argh! I can't take it!" Xelloki said as he pulled at his hair.

Lina Inverse and company drew back in surprise, all save Zelgadis, who was
too busy trying to read a spell that could revert him back into his human
form.

"D... Did Xellos just have an emotional outburst?" Lina asked in shock.

"That's what it sounded like," Sylphiel said next to Lina's side.

"Everyone be quiet! I'm trying to read this!" Zelgadis complained as he
squinted and tried to read the symbols explaining Sm'llii O'ffal's Spell of
Reversal. It just had to have been written by a near-sighted, two-fingered
troll who had to use charcoal instead of ink. Worse, it was written on cheap
parchment that threatened to crumble into dust with every violent movement.
As ancient as it was, 'violent' meant dust motes falling upon it.

Xelloki turned around and smiled. "No, I didn't. I only made you think I
did."

"Yes, you did. I saw you. You even shouted," Lina insisted.

Xelloki's eyes widened enough that they appeared open. "Oh, so now you're
saying that you believe in everything I say or do. Well, that's a refreshing
change of pace."

"I didn't say that!" Lina corrected. "I'm not that stupid."

"So you don't believe I had what appeared to be an emotional outburst?"

"Of course not. I don't believe... I mean I do... Wait a minute," Lina
paused to try and sort out exactly what Xelloki was trying to say and what
she may or may not have agreed to.

While she pondered the matter, Xelloki went back to considering more
important issues than tormenting his new playmates. It appeared there was
only one decent solution. It was time to sub-contract. That way Thor could
be harassed by proxy. It was the closest thing to direct contact Xelloki
could manage without risking his neck, or more important body parts, to
Sif's dainty broadsword. The one that regularly disemboweled Storm Giants
that pissed her off.

He whipped out a slender black object, that easily fit in his hand, from
within the folds of his cape. He unfolded part of the bottom of it so that
it protruded outward at an angle, raised a long, slender metal rod from the
top, pushed several buttons from the main part of it, each emitting a tiny
little beep, and cradled it to his ear, as though listening for something.

"What's in the world is that?" Lina asked.

Gourry raised his hand, shouting "Oh, oh! I know what it is."

"Well?" Lina asked.

"It's a Xel-phone."

Both Lina and Sylphiel's eyes widened.

Lina was the first to properly react. "Oh no! He's under the effects of the
Curse of Kleppe again!"

"We have to exorcise it!" Sylphiel agreed.

"I don't have to exercise. I'm in great shape," Gourry insisted.

"See? He can't help himself. We're going to assailed with an endless variety
of painful puns until we're driven crazy!" Lina held her hands up to her
head in woe.

"Would everyone please shut up?! Your voices are making the parchment
crumble. Ah! Now my voice is making it crumble. Argh! I just did it again!"
Zel resisted the urge to cry.

Lina said, "Sylphiel, it's up to you to use your white magic to drive the
possessing spirit out again."

"I understand what it must be done for Gourry-sama's sake," she said
solemnly. "Give me the Band of Purity."

Lina handed her a white headband.

Sylphiel tied it around her head. "Now the Lights of Truth."

Lina handed her several lit candles.

Sylphiel stuck them in the headband. "Now the Staff of Deliverance."

Lina handed her a long wooden staff.

A white aura formed between Sylphiel's hands as she chanted, "In the name of
Chumba-wumba, I summon thee forth spirits of cleanliness to scrub out
Gourry-sama's form, especially his brain, of this ancient and powerful
curse." A nimbus of white magic surrounded the staff. Pleased that the spell
was successful, Sylphiel said, "Now let the suffering end!"

She slammed the glowing end of the staff into Gourry's head.

"Ow!" Gourry moaned as he rubbed the rapidly growing lump. "I thought you
said you were going to make my suffering end!"

"Not your suffering. Ours!" Lina said as she shouted for Sylphiel to hit him
again.

Xelloki covered the ear that was not touching the Xel-phone. Eventually the
ringing in the receiver ended as a feminine voice said, "Eternal Pits of
Damnation. How can I help you."

"I want to speak with Mephisto."

"He's not the current ruler of this section of Hell, I'll put you through to
the new Arch-fiend."

"What, Mephisto's been ousted again? Who's in charge this time? Blackheart?
Daimon Hellstrom? Satannish?"

There was a click on the other end as a new, male voice said, "Hello, Phil,
Prince of Insufficient Light here. How can I help you?"

"What?! Is this some sort of joke?"

"Nope. I ousted Mephisto just last month. I'm in charge of this section of
Hell now."

"That's ridiculous. You can't be in control. Mephisto has resisted the power
of the Silver Surfer, hacked off Thanos and continued to exist. Even the
Impossible Man failed to drive him nuts. What could you possibly do to an
entity of that power that could harm him?"

Suddenly, the world went dark around Xelloki. Not pitch black, but there was
unquestionably insufficient light to get anything done.

"Ow! Damn it, Sylphiel, you just hit me!"

"Sorry, Lina. Gourry-sama, call out so I can hit you again."

"No way. I'm not-" *Thunk* "Ow!"

"Argh! Not now! I can't read the rest of this spell! Is there no justice in
this world?!"

Xelloki said, "I see what you mean. I admit to underestimating your
prowess."

"So did Mephisto," Phil informed Xelloki. "Poor bugger couldn't see and
ended up accidentally wandering through a portal to some other realm."

Xelloki said, "I see. Where is old Mepphy now?"

"I bet you he's asking himself that self-same question even as we speak."

"Your point is taken, oh Master of Inadequate Lighting. I have a favor to
ask. A contract job to harass my brother."

"All right, since you're causing misery and despair, I'll help you out."

"And I want the job done right, so don't give it to any pointy-haired
demons."

"Shoot. Thought I could slip that one past you. What do you want done?"

Xelloki told him.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Tamiya, tell me again why I have to wear this ridiculous ball and chain on
my ankle," Keiichi whined as Ootaki continued to fit the clasp firmly around
Keiichi's ankle.

The head of the Nekomi Tech Motor Club placed his hands on his hips in
indignation. "It's to build up muscle tone in your ankles for the
moto-pedal. We can't afford to lose to Aoshima again. He's already got our
club house and vehicles. If we lose this last race, we got to disband our
club. There's no way I'm letting that bunch of Four Wheels geeks take our
rightful spot as the top club at Nekomi."

"Then why aren't you driving the moto-pedal?"

"I'm too big. Only a shrimp like you can fit in it comfortably."

Keiichi sighed at the jab against his height. "I guess you're right."

Megumi placed a hand on her older brother's shoulder. "Don't let it get you
down.. I'll be helping out."

"You're going to wear a ball and chain and run alongside me?"

"No, I'll be riding on the back of Ootaki's bike and shouting words of
encouragement to you."

Ootaki said, "Yeah, it's not like you've got an actual girlfriend to cheer
you on, so you're going to have to settle for your sister."

Another sigh passed through Keiichi's lips. Everyone had to rub his face in
his lack of a love life. If only he wasn't so damn short. If he had been
tall and built like Tamiya, he would have been sure to have found someone to
share his life with. No one was ever interested in scrawny, average-looking,
nice guys. He was just a luckless loser. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"No time for a pity party. Get a move on." Tamiya shot his starter pistol in
the air.

Keiichi tried his best to run with the large, heavy, metal ball and chain
attached to his ankle, which was to say he hardly went anywhere at all.
Tamiya just shook his head as Keiichi slowly made his way up the street,
dragging the ball behind him.

As the head of the Nekomi Tech Motor Club entered the ramshackle house that
was serving as their temporary headquarters, he resolved himself to the fact
that they were doomed. That was all there was to it.

Idly Tamiya turned on the ancient television set that had been left in the
house and popped open the last beer, trying hard to think of some way to
level the playing field so they stood a chance against Aoshima. He mumbled,
"What can I do to make sure we win? I'd do anything. Anything."

The television flickered for a moment before coming on. A beautiful woman
with long stringy blonde hair and an odd set of red markings on her cheeks
appeared in the middle of the screen. She wore a revealing lacy white top
that was barely sewn together in the front, a pair of cutoff denim shorts,
and a large baseball cap with the word, 'Hellraisers' across the front. She
spoke to the camera in a salesman-like pitch as she said, "Are you tried of
being trod upon by arrogant jerks that think they can buy the world?
Frustrated at losing bets in what are almost certainly rigged contests?
Wouldn't you like to have the Devil's luck, just like they do? Everyone
knows revenge is a dish best served hot, and have we got a hot deal for you.
What we're offering today is a no money or your soul back guarantee that you
can start kicking ass and taking names. All you have to do to barter for
this near limitless power is dial 1-800-PURE-EVIL, and all that stands in
your way will buckle before your awesome might."

Tamiya rose to his feet, shouting out, "That's it!"

The woman on the television gave a cruel smile.

Tamiya continued. "I can't think of anything, we're doomed, and I'm out of
beer!" He tossed the empty can aside and headed to the refrigerator in the
hopes that someone had left a wine cooler in the back.

He only made it halfway there when a television control bounced off the back
of his skull. He turned around to see who had launched the makeshift
projectile.

The woman on the screen shouted, "Hey, stupid!"

Tamiya looked around. There was no one else in the room. She must have been
talking to someone else on a different channel. He headed toward the
refrigerator again.

An empty can chromed of the back of his head.

"I meant you, you oversized grease monkey!" the woman screeched.

"That's some interactive television," Tamiya admitted.

The woman nearly pulled her hair out by the roots in frustration. "The
answer to evening the score with Aoshima is right here. Just dial
1-800-PURE-EVIL."

"That's twelve numbers. There should be only eleven in a one eight hundred
number."

"Just dial the damn number!"

Tamiya reluctantly did as he was bade. The instant he hit the last digit,
the doorbell rang. He went over to it and opened the door. There was a
package wrapped in brown paper, hovering about three inches off the ground.
Tamiya just scratched his head as he looked at it. "I wonder if Morisato's
sexual frustration finally overflowed and he's ordering porn."

Underneath the package, a tiny almost musical voice said, "Excuse me please,
Senbei is getting really, really tired of holding up this really, really big
package."

Tamiya lifted up the package. Underneath was a three inch man. Tamiya looked
again at the package. "Morisato ordered GI Joes?"

The tiny man, obviously delighted at being relieved of his burden, said,
"Senbei would do his happy dance, but his back is killing him. Bye-bye."
With his declaration made he crouched down slightly, then leaped up in the
air, talking off like a little rocket.

"Must be action figures from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. That little guy
looked exactly like Chow-Yun Fat." Tamiya reentered the house and tore off
the wrapper, leaving a trail of brown paper behind him. When he opened the
box, he saw the only object it contained was a CD in a jewel case entitled,
'The Real Satanic Verses.'

"Oh, it's just an audio book." Tamiya tossed the case on the couch and began
to make his way back to the kitchen yet again in search for more alcohol.

"Play the CD, stupid!" a female voice screeched from within the case.

Tamiya reluctantly picked it up. "Nag, nag, nag. You're just like my last
girlfriend." Tamiya mumbled as he opened the case and put the CD in the
player.

A moment later, a kaleidoscope of light emerged from the player and became a
swirling vortex of energy directly above it. Within moments the lights
coalesced into the figure of a woman how hovered in mid-air. She was
identical to the saleswoman from the television, except she was three
dimensional and no longer wore the baseball cap. Without the headgear,
Tamiya could see a set of ram's horns curled on each side of her head.

"Ha, ha, ha! I am here at last," the woman announced. "Allow me to introduce
myself. My name is Satana Satanadana. But you can call me Mara."

"How do you get Mara from that?"

"It's all in the pronunciation."

"Oh. What's up with the horns on your head? You look like could headbutt
your way through a cinderblock."

"Horns?" She reached up and felt the side of the head, her hands caressing
the projections as though it was the first time she had become aware of
them. "What the hell?" She went through a pocket of her scandalously short,
shorts, and pulled out a card. She spoke aloud, reading it for the first
time. "Hmm. According to my super villain action card, I'm currently fused
with 'Satana, the Devil's Daughter'. A Marvel character that made a handful
of appearances in the late seventies and early eighties during the whole
Satanist craze that was a fad for a while. Briefly hung out with her
brother, Daimon Hellstrom, aka the Son of Satan, off and on. Eventually
Satana met a pointless demise hanging out with Spider Man and Dr. Strange in
Marvel Team Up. It was pretty much a senseless gesture that was an admission
that no one knew what to do with her character. Rumors are she was
resurrected in the brief 'Hellstorm' title in the late nineties." She
considered that. "Actually that's a remarkable amount of time for someone to
stay dead in the Marvel Universe, unless you're the first Bucky or the
original Baron Zemo."

"That still doesn't explain the horns," Tamiya pointed out.

Mara-Satana Satanadana read further. "I see. Originally it was a sign that
the demonic 'Basilisk' entity, (no relation to the late green-skinned, red
eye-beam shooting super villain of the same name) within Satana was active.
In my case it's just to show I'm evil and fused with her." She tucked the
card back in her pocket. "Well, that's settled."

"So what do you want?"

Sensing the conversation was steering away from the fourth wall, the demonic
woman cleared her throat. "I am here to offer you a path to true power."

"Like that self-help guy with the big forehead that's always trying to pitch
his tapes?"

"No!" Mara-Satana swatted Tamiya in the head. "I mean real power. Power as
in "I can casually bench press a Buick if I feel like it'."

That she used a car reference in the explanation helped Tamiya to understand
the concept much more quickly that he otherwise would. The big man said, "So
what's this power going to cost me?"

"It's absolutely free," she stated, adding, "exceptforgivingmeyoursoul,"
under her breath.

"That's not exactly absolutely free."

"But it's relatively close. In sales terms it's as close as you can get to
free without going over."

Tamiya quavered a bit. "I don't know as I want to part with my soul."

Mara-Satana said, "Sure you do. It's the only way you can beat Aoshima.
After all, he's got the edge since he already sold his soul to us."

"He did?"

"How else do you think a smug, little, self-righteous prick like him can
avoid getting the beating he so richly deserves all the time?"

"Why that little bastard! I'll do it. What do I have to sign?"

Mara-Satana whipped out a contract. Right before Tamiya could sign, she
pulled it away and said, "Oh, there's just one other little thing besides
your soul that I'm going to need from you before I can give you this kick
ass power."

"What's that?"

"It's nothing, really. I just need you to beat the crap out of Thor."

Tamiya stared flatly at her. "No way."

"Why not?"

"I don't beat up girls, especially hot Norse ones. I'd sooner ask her out on
a date."

Mara-Satana considered the unexpected proposal. "Hmm, I would certainly
qualify that as harassing." She thought over her orders again. They were
quite specific about Tamiya having to actually assault Thor. It took only a
second for the agile mind of the demoness to come up with a solution. "Well,
I have it on good authority that she won't go out with just anyone."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Rumor has it that she'll only go out with someone that's powerful."
A rumor that was started by Mara-Satana just now.

"I'll be powerful."

"Powerful enough to beat her up. Yes, that's it. I think someone might have
said she'll probably only go out with someone who defeats her in combat."
The demoness congratulated herself on modifying an old law some recently
extinct tribe of warrior women in China had used.

Tamiya rose proudly to his feet. "I'll do it. I'm sure the poor girl's been
dying to go out with someone like me." He signed the contract. "Now give me
that power."

Mara-Satana rolled up the contract and hid it within her ample cleavage. She
continued rummaging around in it until she came up with a vial of greenish
fluid sealed by a cork. She unstopped the vial, and the fluid began bubbling
as it came into contact with the air. "Drink this and you'll become the
recipient of near unimaginable power."

Tamiya accepted the offering. He sniffed the contents of the vial. "It
smells just like my Granny's goulash."

"Good," Mara-Satana said happily.

"I hated that stuff." Tamiya poured the contents of the vial on the floor.

"You idiot! You were supposed to drink that!" The veins on Mara-Satana's
forehead began to pulse.

"I'm not drinking something that tastes like recycled rubber," Tamiya stated
firmly.

Growling, the demoness refrained from using her hellish powers on him,
reminding herself that she needed his body intact for what was to come.
"I'll see what else I can come up with," she mumbled as she began searching
through her cleavage again.

"Want me to help?"

"Want to lose a hand?" Mara-Satana stated coldly. At last she pulled out a
gold medallion with a silver chain. Etched on the medallion were the images
of huge men accomplishing great feats of strength. "Here we go. This Amulet
of Force will imbue you with the strength of a thousand men." She offered it
to him.

He waved his hand dismissively at it. "No thanks. Jewelry's not my thing."

"WHAT?!" Mara-Satana raged. "You wanted great power! Take the damn amulet!"

"No. If the price of power is to look uncool, I don't want it. Style is as
important as strength."

Mara-Satana resisted the urge to put her ridiculous horns to good use by
ramming her head into Tamiya's. "Fine! We'll do it the old fashioned way!"
She looked around the messy room until her eyes settled on an object. She
flew over, grabbed the crowbar, and flew back to Tamiya's side. "Here's what
you're going to do. This," she waved the crowbar around. "Is going to serve
as a conduit to give you your power." She made him hold it in his hand. "Now
here's what you're going to do. You know the hill out behind the house?"

Tamiya nodded his head.

"Good. You go stand on the top of that hill and hold that crowbar above your
head."

"How will that give me power?"

"I'm going to do something to it, but it's going to take time to build up
the power. Now listen to me. No matter what happens, you hold that thing
high above your head. No matter what, got it?"

"What if I don't?"

"Then we'll use the Cube of Atlas to give you your super power."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It's inserted anally."

"The crowbar it is." Tamiya rushed outside and headed to the top of the
hill.

"Sheesh," Mara-Satana lamented. If the soul collection business had taught
her anything, it was that it wasn't the smart ones that you had to watch out
for; it was the stupid ones. They were the beings responsible for half the
cases of retirement among demonkind. It was unfortunate that demons were so
susceptible to high blood pressure. Mara-Satana just knew she was going to
have to take a relaxing bloodbath in order to wash away her woes that this
moron had inflicted upon her. But only after she enchanted that damn crowbar
first.

The demoness exited the house and flew as high as she could until she
encountered a cloudbank. She entered it and disappeared from sight.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keiichi gasped out as he tried to make his leg move again. Only a half mile,
but it felt like he had run ten.

"Only five more miles to go," Megumi cheered from the back of Ootaki's
motorcycle as they circled around Keiichi's slow moving form.

"I hate my life," Keiichi moaned. A rumble in the distance signaled the
approach of a storm. Keiichi decided that was it. Even the heavens were
telling him to stop. He was just about to announce his defection to
Aoshima's Four Wheels Club when he spotted someone on the top of the hill
behind the house.

"Hey, is that Tamiya?" Keiichi pointed in the figure's direction.

Ootaki pulled to a stop and stared. "Yeah, and it looks like he's holding up
a..."

"Crowbar?" Megumi finished.

"Why would he be standing up on the top of a hill holding a crowbar in the
middle of an impending storm?" Keiichi asked.

All three came to an answer at once.

"He's going to kill himself!" Keiichi and Megumi said simultaneously,

"He's trying to hit low flying birds!" Ootaki stated.

The siblings looked at Ootaki.

"Or maybe he's trying to kill himself," Ootaki quickly added.

"Quick, get us up there before it's too late!" Keiichi hopped on the back of
the motorcycle, perched right behind Megumi. It would have been quite
arousing, except for the fact it was his sister's body he was tightly
pressed against.

It was a testament to Ootaki's driving skills that he moved as quickly as he
did while maintaining his balance with three passengers on a vehicle that
was designed for a maximum of two.

The trio arrived just as lightning began to flash overhead.

"Don't do it! We'll find a way to win!" Keiichi pleaded.

"I have to do it," Tamiya insisted. "I don't want to have an anal probe."

That took even Ootaki aback for a moment.

"Maybe we should let him do it," Megumi said.

Keiichi shook his head. "He's probably drunk. It's the alcohol talking." At
least Keiichi hoped to god it was the alcohol. He didn't want to think about
what the alternative implied.

The trio began struggling with Tamiya, determined to wrest the crowbar away
from him. But the big man was powerful enough to hold off all three.

"This is the way it has to be!" Tamiya shouted as everyone's hair began to
stand on end.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Perched from her position high on top of the thunderheads, Mara-Satana
summoned all of her mystical might and enchanted a bolt of lightning that
would have done even Thor proud. Satisfied it had the necessary spells, she
sent it roaring through the cloud to magically seek out its target far
below. Delighted at finally resolving the empowerment issue, she looked
through an opening in the cloud produced by the magic bolt as it passed
through. "Hope you get a charge out of this, you moron! Hahaha... Eh?" The
demoness looked more closely at where the bolt was destined for. "Hmm,
either he's reproduced himself asexually, or something unexpected has
occurred."

Mara-Satana let out a tired sigh. Why didn't anything work out the way it
was supposed to?

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bolt of enchanted lightning hit the crowbar just as the other three
managed to grasp it. The mystic power destined for one ended up being
equally distributed to four as the recoil from the energy threw all of them
apart. Tamiya maintained a death grip on the crowbar.

As the smoke settled, all three slowly returned to their feet.

For a moment, Keiichi thought it was all over, that the lightning had struck
him and he had gone to heaven. And then he saw Tamiya nearby, and realized
that there was no way the two of them could have ended up in the same place.
Besides, he still felt like a loser. If heaven couldn't cure that feeling,
then nothing would, and he wanted to hold on to the idea that death would be
able to hold some measure of peace for his soul.

He rose to his feet, ball and chain still dangling from his ankle. Irritated
at the additional weight, he tugged at the object.

The metal clasp broke as though it had been made of tissue paper.

"Whoa. Talk about weak metal." Keiichi then began to assess the situation,
and suddenly realized that besides feeling like a loser, he also felt a
whole lot stronger.

"Ohh," Ootaki moaned as he rose to his feet fifteen feet away.

The sound reminded Keiichi of the other three people that had also been in
the area of the bolt's effect. He looked over to the person closest to him
and saw that the lightning had singed the top of Ootaki's hair completely
off his head. Now that Keiichi looked a lot more closely, he realized that
his sempai had a very flat head, and that his tall stock of hair had hidden
that rather noticeable feature very well. He also noticed that, for some odd
reason, Ootaki appeared much larger than before, mostly around the torso.
Rather than being on the thin side, he looked much more like Tamiya with his
new, inexplicable build.

"The lightning must have affected me more than I thought." Keiichi looked
over to where Tamiya was slowly rising to his feet. While it wasn't quite as
conspicuous, Tamiya did look a good bit larger as well. More like a power
lifter than a large man that worked out occasionally.

Curious, Keiichi felt himself and gasped. Whereas before he had very little
chest, almost to the point that he had an indentation rather than pecs, now
he had what could only be regarded as a strapping amount of excess muscle.
His arms and legs were the same way: thick, almost like pistons in an engine
rather than appendages of a human body. He hefted the ball and chain as
though they were made of paper mache. Also he felt an odd sort of...
Connection, for lack of a better term, with the ball and chain. Almost like
it was an extension of himself rather than an inanimate object.

It was great. He was no longer a weenie. He was strong and buff and... Still
the same  guy he was before he got bigger. It was an illusion. Nothing had
really changed. He was just bigger now. Inside he remained the same timid,
lovable loser he had been before. But at least he wasn't small. He was a tad
better off than before, as long as he didn't let his newfound muscle turn to
flab. Then he would be a fat loser. He silently vowed to being working out
starting today.

A softer moan came from his left, shaking Keiichi out of his reverie. The
sound caused him to recall one very important thing he had forgotten in his
assessment of the weird situation.

"Megumi!" he cried out as he rushed to her side, only to recoil in shock at
what was before him.

Before the lightning, his sister had been... Proportioned fairly average for
a girl --not that he was any great judge since she was his sister-- but now
she was... Bigger, for lack of a better term. Megumi had lamented to Keiichi
a few times that she felt her chest was below average, to which he would
reply, "I don't want to hear you talk about stuff like that! You're my
sister, for crying out loud!" Now such matters were no longer a concern. On
the bright side, her chest had unquestionably grown a good bit. On the
downside, the rest of her had also increased to tremendous proportions. She
looked like a professional bodybuilder, one that chugged a gallon of
steroids with every meal. Especially noteworthy were her arms, which looked
like twin piledrivers with how large they were.

The change did not go unnoticed by its recipient. Megumi looked down at
herself in mute horror. The look of fear was frozen on her face for all of
ten seconds before a cry of, "I'm a freak!" came bursting forth. The tears
were hot on their heels a moment later.

Momentarily forgetting his own depression, Keiichi went over to console his
sibling. He placed his hand on his shoulder and started to say, "Now,
Megumi. No matter what you look like, you'll always be my sis-"

He didn't get a chance to finish as in her blind misery she backhanded her
brother. The blow caught him cleanly under his jaw, hurling him away twenty
feet through the air. He impacted solidly with the ground, tearing up a huge
piece of turf. Much to Keiichi's surprise he was able to rise, his bones not
only not pulverized, but completely intact. He did feel sore from where
Megumi had struck him, as though Tamiya had given him one of the big man's
patented not so gentle slaps, but Keiichi was still in working order despite
the tremendous force from the blow.

Tamiya started to make his way over as well, but unused to his additional
mass, he misjudged one of his steps and nearly fell over. He quickly tried
using the crowbar as a make-shift cane in an effort to keep from falling. As
the sharpened end hit the ground, there was a tremendous roar and part of
the hillside sheared off right where the crowbar had made contact with it.

All eyes turned to the destruction Tamiya inadvertently caused. Even the big
man seemed taken aback by the carnage before him.

"When she said tough, she wasn't kidding," Tamiya mumbled.

"My hair," Ootaki wailed, suddenly realizing his own predicament.

"What just happened?" Keiichi said, trying to console Megumi. From a
distance, this time.

Tamiya said, "We've been granted powers far beyond those of mortal men. This
power has been granted for the express purpose of kicking the little jerk,
Aoshima's butt."

"And beating up Thor," Ootaki said. He instantly taken aback by his own
words.

Keiichi was about to ask what his sempai was talking about when he felt a
similar urge well up within him. "So I can ask her out on a date?" he said
more to himself than the others.

"I want to, too. But I don't even like girls!" Megumi protested. Yet there
was an undeniable desire to beat the heck out of the Goddess of Thunder with
the intention of going out with her. It depressed her almost as much as her
new physique. Not only was she a huge freak, but to make matters worse,
evidently some previous lesbian tendencies that were so latent even she was
unaware of their existence were now asserting themselves.

"Looks like her dance card is going to be full," Tamiya declared.

"I can't go out in public like this!" Megumi cried, bawling her eyes out.

Keiichi decided to try consoling his sister, again, "Cheer up, Megumi. You
know, there are some guys that like girls that work out a lot."

"Who?" she cried.

"Yeah, who?" Ootaki parroted.

"You're not helping here," Keiichi hissed.

Deciding to take control of the situation, Tamiya said, "All right. I'm
still president of the Motor Club, which means I'm in charge. In deference
to Megumi, who doesn't want to be seen as a freak out in public--"

That redoubled Megumi's tears.

"--And since we all got this irresistible urge to attack the Goddess of
Thunder, as well as avenge ourselves on that little jerk, Aoshima, who I
just discovered cheated when he beat us in our previous contests, here's
what we're going to do. We're going to go incognito, and make costumes for
ourselves and hide our identities to the world at large. We'll be like super
heroes, except for beating up another super hero."

"Wouldn't that make us villains?" Keiichi pointed out.

"Not if it's for her own good," Tamiya pointed out. "She wants to go out on
a date, but there aren't any guys tough enough. So that means it falls to
us. And just in case she's really a dyke, then she can go out with Megumi."

The girl's cries tripled.

Keiichi threw up his hands. "Fine. We'll hide our identities and wear really
loose clothing so no one realizes we've all thrown on about two hundred
pounds of muscle. What will we call ourselves?"

Tamiya thought about that. "Well, the way I see it, I want to wreck
Aoshima's place for cheating us out of what's rightfully ours. And I got
this crowbar too, so I'll call myself the Wrecker, and you'll be my... um...
Wrecking Crew."

Keiichi wanted to protest, but couldn't come up with a better name. He
decided giving up was preferable. "And our names?"

"Well, Megumi's got those big, powerful arms, so we'll call her Piledriver."

Megumi's cries, stopped as suddenly as they started. She sniffled,
"Actually, I sort of like that. It has a nice ring to it. It makes me sound
tough, yet feminine."

"And me?" Ootaki asked.

"You got that really flat head, so we'll call you Bulldozer."

The newly dubbed Bulldozer rubbed his head mournfully.

Keiichi finally summoned the nerve to ask. "And me?"

That one made Tamiya think. "Well, you got that ball and chain. Keep it
around, and we'll call you..."

"The Flail?" Keiichi asked.

"Nah. We're keeping that wrecking kind of motif. Your name will be
Thunderball."

"That's the name of a James Bond movie."

"Maybe it'll be lucky and you'll be able to pick up women just as easily as
he did," Tamiya said. "So Thunderball it is."

"But I didn't agree-"

Tamiya didn't hear a word. "Now here's what we do. First we'll sew neat
costumes. Then we get our revenge against the Four Wheels Club. Then it'll
be time to take on Thor. And then we'll... build and race more cars, I
guess."

Keiichi sighed. What a miserable situation he was in. He just knew everyone
would think he was a bad guy. He'd end up going to jail and fending off the
advances of men instead of women. The only possible upside would be there
was an offhand chance Tamiya was right and he'd get a chance to go out on a
date with a goddess. For some odd reason, thinking that made him feel
better. Silently he decided to try his best to impress Thor once they went
out on a date, and maybe she would want to go out with him again without
having to beat her up.

The question continued rebounding in his mind. A goddess as a girlfriend?
There was an odd sort of appeal to that. Maybe things would start looking up
if he managed that one.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Author's end notes: And that's that for that. Wow! Did that all in one day
(hopefully it didn't show. ^_^) Revised it today, but the actual work was
done yesterday. Like I said, too silly to fit in the real universe, but when
the idea came to me it wouldn't die until I wrote it down. Large for an
omake, I know, but that was the length the story turned out to be. With any
luck this will get me restarted on finishing the Ten Rings arc of Avenging.
It's either that or I finally start work on the Dual! Lemon or a little
article on recommendations on how to help get C+C. It really looks like
it'll be one of those three, which are really first and foremost on my mind.
I did do the rough draft of the prologue to a Ranma wishfic series that will
hopefully have a little twist that I don't think was done before, (people on
FFIRC will probably know what I'm referring to, since we discussed it
extensively a few months ago) Once I'm done with the above three things, I
might go over to it. It'll be humor oriented, and not like some of the
moodier work I've done of late.

BTW: If you have to ask who Kleppe is, you won't get the joke. ^_^


That's that for that. Hope you liked what I wrote. Drop me a line if you
did.

D.B. Sommer















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