PArt 2:

           ell?"

Yep. Good call.

Senses hyper-sensitive from the meditative exercise, Ranma
could feel every ripple of Ryoga's muscles as he was
engulfed in a desperate hug, and the still-minuscule damp
spot where Ryoga's tears of frustration and desperation were
just barely beginning to soak into his shirt.  He was also
fully aware that Ryoga was stark raving nude.  Ranma was, at
this point, almost an expert in being involuntarily seized
by undressed individuals, and, all told, he would rate this
particular experience as one of the worst.  Besides, Ryoga
didn't know Don't-Hold-On Grenade-Jutsu.

Espcially that fact

Smiling grimly, Ranma recalled one of Genma's earliest
lessons, imparted in a rumbling voice over a campfire to a
wide-eyed boy, shivering through his first winter spent
outdoors.  "Son," the burly man had said, staring
contemplatively at his hands held out to the flames, "a
martial artist trains to be strong, both for himself and for
those weaker than him.  We learn to fight to protect those
who cannot fight for themselves, and to defeat those who use
their skills for gain at the expense of others.  But the
reason we learn special techniques, Son, the really fancy
flashy stuff, is to beat the hell out of mentally deranged
men who run around naked and try to molest us.  I don't
expect you to understand that, not today; but someday, in
the future, you'll look back on what I just told you, and
what I had to do today, and you'll understand."

Ranma still didn't understand, but he did know Ryouga was creeping him out.

"Oh, wait."  Ranma snapped his fingers.  "Ya mean the girl
who was with Excel and spouting blood and is standing
behind ya now scopin' out yer ass?"

Now, now. I'm sure Hyatt doesn't have those sorts of thoughts. :)

gurgling caught his attention.  "Oh.  Sorry."  He let Ranma
down a little.  "Where is Akane, anyways?"

Being molested by Sister Angela.

knees from bowing completely out when they got to about
right angles.  "I'm ready, Teacher!  Well, when I say ready,
I mean, I'm ready if all of these newspapers need to be
delivered just next door, but I think that they probably
need to be delivered all over this neighbourhood, so my
'ready' is really just youthful optimism and gung-ho can-do
attitude!"

"Ah, no."  O'Callahan smiled indulgently.  "No, they don't
have to be delivered all over this neighbourhood.

Might but in a 'Excel breathed in relief" and then follow up with the rest.
Or not. It might be too cliched to do it that way.

The last slide clicked out of the projector, leaving a blank
white field shining out as Excel cutely cocked her head and
kept reciting.  "Shinjuku is best known for...."  She ground
to a halt and gaped, slit-eyed, at O'Callahan.  "Being very,
very, very far away from Nerima."

"Not by subway."

"Are we taking the subway?"

"No."

"So it is very far away."

"Yes."

Heh. Loved that exchange.

Slumped against the trunk was a young man, beaten and
bruised, with blood dripping down over his eyes.  For a long
minute, the tableau froze, and then, slowly, the man lifted
his head, wheezing with the effort.  "Please."  His hand
fumbled up towards Kuno's collar, but fell back to the
ground before reaching it, spent.  "Please.  Save my
brother... save my village... with my dying breath, I beg
you...."

Oh dear, we seem to have fallen into an old martial arts flick now. :)

Staring up at the sky for, the villager counted on his
bloodied fingers.  "About... one day.  They're *very*
oppressive," he added defensively.

Eyes hard and face blank, Kuno turned to levelly regard his
sister.  "This peasant's story compels me, sister,

Kodachi; It compels me as well. It compels me to leave. But please, continue
the rest of your speech as I depart to find my beloved Ranma.

"And," Excel said a little more smoothly, "you rode on my
back for a while."

Brows beetling,

beetling. That's a new one for me.

"I will move from customer to customer like a ninja!  I will
launch the newspapers like an archer!  I will collect my
dues like a yakuza!  I will strike down dogs that dare to
nip at my feet like a person striking down dogs nipping at
their feet!"

Heh

"That's not quite the way it's supposed to...."

"Take that, training obstacle!"  With a deadly eye, Excel
hurled a newspaper through the display window of a camera
shop, and followed it by a barrage of four-colour fold-out
grocery coupons.  With great, reverent care, she withdrew a
white bandanna, emblazoned with a rising sun, from her
backpack, and knotted it snugly about her forehead.  Still
standing atop the mail box, she drew one foot to
waist-height and began slowly waving her arms about as the
proprietor of the camera shop charged out, screaming.

Perfect.

Despite herself, Kodachi could not repress a shudder of
revulsion.  The man who sprawled on the heaped cushions was
lean and muscled, and likely would have been handsome by any
standards if his entire body had not been swathed in
tight-fitting bandages.

Heh. Okay. I almost made an RK comment when the villager showed up since I'm
in the middle of the Shishio arc, but resisted. I must learn to go with my
impressions.

"My motives?"  Beneath the wrappings, Kodachi could make out
the brow of the man lifting.  "It's really quite
straightforward.  This village is placed within convenient
striking distance of every major commercial transport route
in the Kanto region.  When the appropriate time comes, my
forces will issue forth from this base to shut them all
down, plunging the entire nation overnight into a disarray
that will make it easy plucking for the revolution."

Kunou: Won't they just send the army after you and arrest you?

Figure: Blast! I knew I had overlooked something.

Something in Kodachi's mind clicked.  "You're the
okonomiyaki slut!"

"That's right."  Ukyo nodded affably.

Oh my. didn't see that one coming.

 "And you're Kuno

Kodachi, and he's Kuno Tatewaki, and you're both chasing
after Saotome Ranma.  I'm afraid, however, I'm going to get
him first."  She grinned mirthlessly.  "But because I just
made possibly the best pork-and-shrimp deluxe with extra
sauce in my entire career, I'm feeling rather generous, so
I'll tell you what.  You can have his corpse after I'm
done."

Kunou: A corpse will suffice for what I want to do with him.

Kodachi: And for me as well.

"Don't I love him, you mean?"  Ukyo smiled coldly.  "Oh,
yes.  Twice, in fact.  When we were young, he scarred my
heart, and so I bound my chest and sought revenge, forsaking
love.  My darling Ranchan turned me aside with a single kind
word, and I loved him again.  This time he scarred my body,

Ukyou: A piece of shrapnal hit me in the big toe. There was blood and
everything, yet he abandoned me. I will never forgive him.

"No, I do that because you won't shut up.

Heh

"Follow me."  As they walked over to the pen and the
adjacent covered pit, O'Callahan began to explain.  "To
understand what we are about to do, you must know that the
Cat-Fist is trained by wrapping the student in fish sausages
and throwing them into a pit filled with starving cats.  The
trauma of the experience is the key to the Cat-Fist."  She
rested one hand on the plywood sheet over the pit and looked
at Excel, who blinked uncertainly for a few seconds, and
then smiled.

The Dog Scratch Technique?

Excel leaned over the pit and looked down.  Below was a
throng of dozens of men and women, all shapes, sizes and
ages, but all fit and dangerous looking.  A few of them
looked up at her; one, red-haired and cradling a sword in
his arms, waved cheerfully back at her.

Heh

Reaching into her hair, Moira O'Callahan produced a cage with
a massive, grey, one-eyed tabby.  "Then, when I poke this
cat to make him meow, you will be swarmed under by the
Cat-Fist masters!  And with this," her eyes glinted in the
sudden shadows as thunderheads swept across the sky, "you
will become the master of the Cat-Fist-Fist!

That's even better.

Laughing triumphantly, Excel gloated, "Yes!  The
Cat-Fist-Fist!  There is no way I can fail Lord Il-Palazzo
when I have the Cat-Fist-Fist!  Who could even dream of
withstanding the incredibly awesome power that is the
Cat-Fist-Fist!"  She frowned suddenly.  "But, Teacher, since
the obvious counter to the Cat-Fist is the Cat-Fist-Fist,
isn't Ranma going to train in the Cat-Fist-Fist-Fist?"

O'Callahan: No, this is Ranma 1/2. The person to learn the counter to the
newest technique always wins and is never harrassed again by the loser,
unless it's Ryouga, and even he gave up toward the end of the series.

Proudly, Excel beat one fist against her chest.  "Lord
Il-Palazzo is always dumping me into deep, dark pits filled
with horrid dangers!  But not until now did I realize that
he was actually training me in the secret long-lost art of
Pit-Fu!

Hehehehe.

Nabeshin kept staring at Ranma, hands in his pockets and
eyes narrowed against the bright sun.  "I dunno.  He's
bright.  He'll figure something out."

HAHAHA! Beautiful.

probably.  Must be very strong."

Ranma nodded grimly.  "Yeah.  Only the greatest martial arts
masters look that stupid."

True. I remember once called 'The Ten Bandits' (Who, ironically, were the
weakest in the lot of bad guys). He was a skinny guy with a long pipe and a
white cloak that looked like it was a giant boa. But he was a great teacher.
Had someone build a railline by hand so he could be taught how to drive
railroad spikes into some guy with impenetrable skin.

But I digress. :)

"Miss Excel!" Hyatt sighed cheerfully.  Ranma started
slightly; engrossed in studying his opponent, he hadn't
noticed her and Ryoga coming up behind them.  "Oh, look,
Mr. Ryoga, Miss Excel is here!  Isn't that wonderful?"

"Uh, yeah," Ryoga muttered.  "Great."  Not only was he still
hitching at his pants when he thought no one was looking,
Ranma noticed, but he'd gone pale.  Strange.  He'd never
seen Ryoga sick before.

Heh

The wizened hag-thing chuckled nastily.  "As Moira
O'Callahan?  Certainly not.  I've had many a face and name
before."  As she spoke, the harridan's hair had twisted and
writhed upon itself, fanned by a windstorm none other could
feel.  "But you should certainly recognize me as...."

The Almost a Bride With White Hair.

"Nabeshin!"  The new Nabeshin pronounced.  "That's right!  I
am the true Nabeshin, come to unmask you as the impostor you
are and take vengeance on you, in the names of Happosai, the
Space Butler, Pedro, my newspaper delivery boy, and a
character to be revealed in the sequel, 'Samurai Excel,'
coming soon to a mailing list near you!  (Soon is defined
on a geological time scale; warranty void where prohibited
by law; this is prohibited by law.)"

Hehehehehe.

"Actually," Excel piped up, raising a hand, "I'm pretty
confused too.  I mean, my teacher who was not a leprechaun
but looked a great deal like one and never gave any hints at
being someone else other than a leprechaun in hiding is now
claiming to be Nabeshin, which strikes me as just the sort
of contrived and implausible plot twist I've come to
expect.... Okay, I'm not confused."

Hehehe

Ryoga, who had been nodding as Excel spoke, stopped and
started scratching his head, and then jumped slightly and
edged away from an ever-serene Hyatt.

Heh. Cute.

Kuno blinked.  "Why, they are both impostors, of course," he
said condescendingly.

And Kunou is the true Nabeshin.

"What are you talking about?" Nabeshin I snapped.

"What she's talking about," Nabeshin III smirked, "is how my
plans are working perfectly."  Reaching into his blazer
pocket, he pulled out a ballpoint pen and shoved it into his
afro.  "GORGEOUS RONIN WOMAN ASTEROID HEALING DISGUISE OFF
CONFIRM DISGUISE OFF (y/N) Y!"

Heheh

He stopped, and with the perfect synchronicity of public
restroom toilets running out of toilet paper simultaneously,
all eyes turned to stare at Nabeshin I.

"What?" he demanded.  "I'm the real Nabeshin!"

Heh

"You can't use names!"  Scandalized.  "It ruins
the... the...."

"Ambiance?"

Yes

Consideration.  During battle it is a hindrance, and after
battle is the pause before the next battle.  Wisdom after
the battle is then also wisdom before the battle, except
that it is for the battle immediately succeeding it and not
applicable to the preceding battle, that is, the battle
chosen as a reference point.  But what are references, but
arbitrary coordinates?  References are nothing to the unmated
dead displaced drosophila melanogaster.

"We can not

cannot

fight here."

"This world does not go deep enough to take our full might."

"No, talking like normal civilized humans was probably too
much to ask."

"Where then?"

"What about some Harry Potter fanfic?"

Glad I don't touch the stuff.

"Good idea."

"No one reads them anyways."

But plenty write them. :)

Akane sighed in relief as she smoothed the floral print
dress across her hips.  It really wasn't the style she'd
prefer, and it was made for a woman a fair bit taller than
her, but it was definitely better than both the rags that
had been left of her school uniform and the... get-up...
that the Sister had given her.  Most things would be better.
She wasn't sure which of those two options had been worse,
even if, technically, the latter had covered her whole body.
Turning, she smiled at her rescuer.  "Thank you, Pedro."

Heh. We missed him.

A delicate alto snort emerged from the dying throes of a
supernova.  "Oh, of course it isn't!"  One hand made a
gesture both dismissive and imperious.  "Men!  Leave them
alone for a minute, and they go off and defeat crystalline
minions and rescue some pretty little vixen to fall
head-over-heels for!"

Heh. Evil, you are.

Visibly, Kodachi slumped in relief.  "Oh, good," she
sighed.  "I was rather getting worried about myself."  With
a maniacal laugh, she leapt into the treetops and bounded off
down the mountain.  "Lord Ansonbiiiiiiii!  Come back to your
darling Kodachi!"

Heh

"I will!" Excel snarled.

She had switched to an elk stance, Ranma noted with mild
alarm.  Assuming the opposing emu stance, he inquired
nastily, "You really think you can take me?"

Now a giraffe stance.  "

Heh

No language has been birthed that can describe the
experience of two powerful warriors engaging each other in
battle.

So we won't go there.

So, why bother trying?

Agree.

"Yer pretty strong," Ranma conceded, wiping a track of blood
from his lip, and then laughed.  "But I've been only using
a... ummmm...."

should have bungle 'infintisimal' a few times before giving up.

Not the Cat-Fist, with its phobia-induced animalistic mind,
but the power it had given him.  His battle aura burst
forth, snarling and surging about him like a hunting
leopard, lashing at the air and the ground until they began
to swirl up around him to reach towards the sky.  He opened
his eyes and was barely aware of the not-prey being forced
backwards by the sheer pressure of his ki; instead, his full
intensity rested on Excel, who froze like the mouse before
the fangs of the panther.

Heh

"What...."  Ukyo stared at it for a long moment.  "Ah.  This
is the detonator to blow up Ranma's training camp."

Hehehehehe. I did not see that one coming either.

                      *     *     *

One bone shard slipped past another, and Ansonbi winced.
The pain slightly lessened, he began worming his way towards
the best safety he could hope for.  "Well," he muttered to
himself as he slid through the muck, "today's experiment
failed."

Yes. I wholeheartedly agree. Although you might want to go with the classic
line of ellipses that lead into the declaration.

'experiement... failed.

Brilliant work. I laughed my ass off. Definitely Excel'esque' which you
pretty much have to do when using Excel in any form. It's just not the sort
of thing that can be taken seriously in the slightest, sort of like 'Silent
Service' when you stop and think about it. Prose flowed well and things
moved in greatly. Glad I read it.

D.B. Sommer



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