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Updates [3/1/2005]: several eps are in the editing stage, and will go up when I next update the site.
The plan, such as it is, is for ep. 205 to be a MiSTing of the script for Metal Gear Solid. Nick is the Mad with TV's Austin as his lackey; theater meat includes Gavok, MMK, TBS, and Wanderer, with n00bs Viper and Zemyla. You may wish to get it started, monkeypants.
Admins: Thomas Wilde (Wanderer), the Black Snotling
Chapter 4D and last: Let the Asskicking Commence!
by
I know that 4C is still hideously underjoked, but I figured I'd put this up before I left town.
Oniko, how about you let someone else go first this time?
========
>
> G
> Building 19 was a fairly long hike down the dusty tarmac, and
> if we had tried it in daylight, even discounting the detection aspect,
> we'd have been sweating like pigs. As it was, we kept up a brisk
> walking pace that kept the chill off, and had a pleasant evening
> stroll, if you disregard the nerve-shattering tension. It took us
> half an hour to reach the man door at the back of Building 19, and a
> minute ten for Meg to pick the cheap padlock in the dark.
> The hangar was dimly lit and smelled of dust, metal and stale
> kerosene, and though it was enormous, it was entirely dominated by a
> single item.
> Unlike Zoner, I had never heard of the Bionic Six before
> meeting Meg. Living a sheltered life in the woods of Maine, not often
> watching the news, isolated from all but the most pervasive marketing
> efforts (hey, we missed 'Robotech', too), I'd never seen a picture of
> Sky Dancer, which, I think, made seeing the real aircraft there in
> front of me all the more impressive.
> It rather resembled a Concorde SST, though a bit blockier. I
> don't know how big a Concorde is, so I couldn't make a guess as to
> relative scale - I'm lousy at judging that kind of thing by eye
> anyway. It was, anyway, a big plane, longer than the Prince of
> Thebes, although with faster and less spacious lines. We did a slow
> walkaround, silently taking in the aircraft's graceful, sweeping
> lines, while Zoner's practiced eye examined the control surfaces and
> the ship in general for airworthiness. At length, after a complete
> lap around the plane, we stopped underneath the rather tall landing
> gear, near the nose.
> "Think you can get the belly ramp open?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "If they didn't change the security codes, I should be able
> to," she replied. She pushed back the sleeve of her uniform jacket -
> that wrist computer was back - and tapped a couple of keys. Then she
> frowned thoughtfully at the display for a moment, brightened, and
> tapped a few more.
> Sky Dancer thought about it for a moment, and then the ramp
> began to descend. Zoner grinned, took off his uniform jacket,
> loosened his tie, and started up the ramp with Meg right after him. I
> followed, and stood near the back of the flight deck as Zoner strapped
> himself into the pilot's seat and Meg took co-pilot. I wasn't miffed;
> she knew the aircraft a hell of a lot better than me or Zoner, so the
> seating arrangement made sense. I busied myself by finding a storage
> locker and tucking my tiki mask into it.
> She gave him a quick run-down of the controls as she
> remembered them, and Zoner's instincts took care of the rest.
> "This is a good instrument layout," he remarked. "Very
> intuitive, everything's well-marked and easy to reach. Ahead of its
> time."
> "Everything about us was ahead of its time," Meg replied, a
> bit wistfully.
> Zoner called up a full diagnostic on the center video display
> unit. "Looks like they stored her ready to run. Good, I was half
> afraid they'd have formally mothballed her."
> "We didn't have a support staff," Meg explained, "so they
> built her to be self-maintaining. Automated systems keep her ready to
> fly under pretty much any conditions."
> "Amazing," said Zoner. "Howard Hughes would've loved that
> system."
> "I think he invented it," said Meg. "I know he was on the
> project... " She looked momentarily alarmed, then sheepish. "Uh, you
> weren't supposed to hear that."
> "My lips," said Zoner with a smirk, "are sealed. Guess it's
> time to see if she'll start up."
> "Shouldn't we open the hangar doors?" I wondered.
> "Hmm... y'know, that might be a good idea," Zoner replied.
> "Yeah... I'm new at this whole aeronautics thing, but I kinda
> suspected that would be a useful thing to do." I went back down the
> ramp and surveyed the huge door at the front of the hangar, hoping
> like hell I wouldn't have to open it by hand with a chain-fall or
> something equally obnoxious. But no, there was the power actuator
> control, in the corner - a typical industrial-green metal box with a
> green button and a red button.
> I hit the green button a half-second before I noticed the
> security keypad in the shadows next to it, and a howling alarm
> promptly filled the hangar.
> "Ahh, shit!" is a fair summation of my reaction.
> I ran back up the ramp.
> "What the hell happened?" Zoner asked.
> "I fucked up," I replied. "The damn door control has a
> security keypad next to it and I didn't see it until it was too late."
> "Shit!" Zoner growled, his fingers flying over the controls.
> "Well, let's hope she's ready to roll in a hurry. Think you can get
> that door open?"
> "I'll try," I replied, and ran back to the control. There
> wasn't time to be clever with it, so I grabbed the conduit running
> down the wall and into the keypad box and yanked it off. The wires
> sparked a bit, graciously identifying the live lead for me. I took it
> and its mate by the insulation, jammed them together, then hit the
> green button again and hoped.
> Another siren joined its voice to the first, and a red
> strobing light filled the hangar as the door began to open. Still
> holding the leads together, I looked around the corner as the door
> swung up. A few hundred yards down the flightline, I could see
> headlights swerving out of the Building 9 garage, heading this way. I
> turned back and watched the door. Behind me, Sky Dancer's engines
> rumbled to life, and her flashing marker lights and whining engines
> added to the visual and aural cacophony.
> Zoner slid one of the cockpit windows back - a feature not to
> be found on the Concorde, I'd guess - and hollered, "That's good, we
> can clear it now!"
> I let go of the leads - and to my dismay, the door started
> closing again.
> "Ahh, shit!" I repeated, and pushed them back together.
> "What's wrong?" Zoner cried.
> "The goddamn door won't stay open unless I hold the leads!" I
> shouted back. "Go on, get going! I'll find my own way out!"
> "Are you sure?" he replied.
> "Look, if you hang around, we'll -all- get caught, now get
> moving!"
> He looked at me for a long second, then nodded and closed the
> window. Sky Dancer's engines spooled up from a whine to a shriek, and
> she eased out of her place, rolling out onto the tarmac.
> The second her tail was clear, I let go of the leads and ran
> like hell for the other end of the hangar. There were a few crates
> lying around the periphery of the space that had once held Sky Dancer,
> but nothing big enough to hide among. Under the howl of the alarm I
> could hear the sirens of the approaching security vehicles, the squeal
> of tires on tarmac as they stopped outside. The door slammed down.
> One piece of good fortune, anyway - they probably wouldn't be able to
> open that one from outside now.
> I looked at the door we came in through, then immediately
> disregarded it. Air Police, or worse, would be coming through that
> door any second now. Struggling to keep calm, I looked around for
> another escape. Outside, I heard gunfire, then the roar of Sky
> Dancer's engines as Zoner threw in the afterburners and took off. It
> occurred to me that they probably didn't know anyone had been left
> behind.
> Then I spotted it - a manhole, no, more like a storm drain
> grate, set in the middle of the hangar floor. It must have been put
> there to provide drainage in case aircraft were washed inside the
> hangar or some such. I didn't know if it would offer an escape route,
> but at the very least, if I could get it open, it represented a place
> to hide. I knew there was no way it ran off base. That only worked
> in the movies, in real life they never did something as stupid as
> running a drain tunnel to the outside world. But I figured at least
> it would give me a lead on the APs, and some distance from ground
> zero.
> I was lifting the grate out of place when the door we came in
> through opened, but only one man came in. To my shock, it was even a
> man I recognized, and as he spotted me, the same startled recognition
> flowered in his own eyes.
> Captain William F. Guile, USAF. Former test pilot, now a sort
> of free-range security and intelligence agent attached to the Joint
> Special Forces Command. Charlie Nash's best friend - and a fellow
> holder of the World Warrior ranking in the World Circuit Martial Arts
> Tournament Series. We'd met a couple of times on the circuit, fought
> once back before either of us was a World Warrior. He won.
> We stood there regarding each other for a few seconds, trying
> to figure out what to do next; then Guile turned, leaned out of the
> doorway, and told someone I couldn't see that the hangar was deserted
> and that he'd secure it himself. Then he stepped back inside, closed
> the door, set the inside bolt lock, cracked a sardonic grin and spoke.
> What he said wasn't exactly comforting.
> "Well, well," he said. "You, my friend, are in serious
> trouble."
> "Really."
> "Really," he replied. "I've suspected you and Zoner weren't
> all some of our intel people think you are ever since I found out you
> use the same style as M. Bison. Tell me, was it on his orders that
> you came here to steal Sky Dancer?"
> "Don't be an idiot," I replied scornfully. "I've never even
> -met- M. Bison, and if I did I'd do my damnedest to take him down.
> We're students of the same master, but we're not on the same path."
> "So why is it you're the one who's breached security at one of
> the most tightly guarded places in the United States? And by
> impersonating an officer, too. That's a serious offense in and of
> itself."
> I shook my head. "This is above your level, Guile. It's not
> your job to interfere with an operation you don't need to know about."
> "It -is- my job to enforce the security of this base," replied
> Guile evenly. "I don't care what you claim you're up to, it can't be
> legitimate if it involves breaking into and out of Area 51."
> "You've got a lot of repressed feelings, don't you, Guile?" I
> observed. "Must be what keeps your hair up."
> "You aren't funny, bud," replied Guile, flat and humorless as
> always. I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, though. He was
> wavering... I just had to find the right key.
> I sighed. "Don't be such a hardass, Guile! This thing is
> way over your bushy head, and if you take me in, when the paper
> chase is over the only fingers pointing anywhere will be pointing at
> -you-."
> "It's my job," he repeated, firmer.
> "Ahh," I replied, gesturing dismissively. "Do me a favor.
> Show a fellow World Warrior some professional courtesy."
> Guile snorted. "Some World Warrior. You got into the bracket
> by beating up on a teenage girl."
> "You've obviously never met Cammy," I replied. "And while
> we're on the subject, which of us was it that got his ass kicked by
> Chun Li last month?"
> Guile flushed angrily. "She's no girl," he said darkly. "I'm
> not 100% sure she's human."
> "You are -such- a paranoid," I replied. "What is she, then, a
> warrior android from the Hunan Galaxy?"
> "Forget it," Guile said. "I was trying to make a joke."
> "Oh. Y'know, it would help you get that message across if you
> were to smile."
> "I'm on duty," replied Guile stolidly.
> "Of course." I sighed. "Look, I'm not going to just let you
> take me in. I've got things to do, and they don't include spending
> time in the cooler at Area 51. Frankly, the sooner I'm out of this
> desert the happier I'll be."
> "You don't have any choice. You're under arrest."
> I rolled my eyes. "All right, fine. If you want to handle
> this like we're back in fifth grade, fine." I took off my uniform
> jacket and threw it aside, loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and
> stepped toward Guile, settling into a ready stance. He narrowed his
> eyes at me and readied himself as well.
> On the occasions I'd had to watch him fight, I'd formed the
> opinion that Guile's style was mainly generic Special Forces training,
> with a smattering of what looked like Muay Thai he'd picked up while
> stationed out that way - that is to say, lots of knee and elbow
> attacks, most of them cheap shots. He was faster than me, but that's
> not all that uncommon. I was pretty confident I could handle him, as
> long as I stayed clear of his elbows.
> He sidled toward me, fists up in a boxing guard, shoulders
> rolling, and shot a jab at my face; I weaved a bit to the left and
> launched a snap kick at his knees. It didn't do much damage, but it
> pushed him back a little bit; undaunted, he used the extra room for a
> roundhouse kick. I blocked it with a flared forearm, feinted, and
> swung into a three-punch combo, left jab-right hook-left uppercut,
> unloading the flare in my left fist on the uppercut. All three
> landed, and Guile stumbled back a step.
> "SONIC - BOOM!" he shouted, bringing his fists across in front
> of him in a sweeping crossover that threw a dazzling arc of energy at
> me. Hmph. Where'd he figure out how to do -that-? Maybe they teach
> it to everybody in the Joint Forces Task Group.
> I tried to jump over it, but a little too late; it caught me
> in the ankles like a clothesline and hurled me to the tarmac
> face-first. I hadn't quite roused enough neurons to get up after that
> when he thumped me in the middle of the back, which seized up my lungs
> for a second and hurt like hell. That was good; it made me mad, which
> is the surest way I know of to clear out the cobwebs. I scrambled
> sideways to my feet and launched my double kick at him, left, right,
> two solid hits, and it was -his- turn to sprawl.
> I was tempted to give him a good stomping while he was down
> there, but I try to avoid doing stuff like that to anyone who hasn't
> -really- ticked me off, and he hadn't earned it yet. So I let him get
> back to his feet in peace, and we more or less started over. The
> glint in his eyes had changed a little since we started. I'd like to
> think the new element I saw was respect, but it might also have been
> annoyance.
> He came at me with a double-punch-and-knee combination which I
> mostly avoided, taking the punches glancingly on my shoulders and
> blocking the knee completely; while I was busy doing that, though, he
> caught me in the side of the head with an elbow that almost dropped me
> back to the ground. I stumbled and he followed up by sweeping my feet
> from under me; I fell face-first.
> Guile hadn't expected me to recover so fast, though; I caught
> myself on my hands and turned the facefault into a handspring, and
> brought my doubled fists down squarely on the top of his flattop
> hairdo with a resounding KLONK that smacked his teeth together. He
> stumbled back a step, and I helped him back with a flat-palm to the
> middle of his chest that knocked him over with a deep "whoof" of
> out-knocked wind.
> He was a quick recoverer, too; he caught himself on one hand
> and did a spiffy pommel-horse-like spin that was supposed to be a leg
> sweep, except I saw it in time and jumped over it. Then he was back
> on his feet, then off them again as he came at me in a curious jumping
> sideways spin kick that turned him, at one point, completely upside
> down. I got tagged pretty hard by that one, but it was worth it to
> see him do it, the move was that neat. I wobbled back a step, and
> steadied my stance in time to see him hurl another Sonic Boom at me.
> I took one running step toward it, turned my back, then
> drifted left with the little dance-step I'd learned from Cammy to add
> to my spinning backfist, letting the Sonic Boom pass harmlessly by.
> The backfist connected hard with his jaw, and was flared, to boot; the
> impact lifted Guile completely off the ground and spun him halfway
> around before dropping him heavily to the pavement on his side. He
> got to his feet, but a lot less snappily than before. As I
> approached, he dropped to a crouch, and the little alarm bells in the
> back of my head started sounding.
> A little too late, I tried to Ler-slide inside his attack arc
> and get in a few face shots. Just as I did, he burst upward
> from his crouch into his trademark flash kick, doing a complete
> somersault and leaving a trail of dazzling energy behind his kicking
> foot. A few inches too far away, I was just at the perfect spot for
> him to unload all that energy into me. Time stuttered for a moment,
> and I came back to myself maybe a half-second later, landing on my
> back and turning completely over with the momentum. He tried to
> trounce me in the back again, but this time I rolled out of the way,
> grabbed his arm, locked my legs around it and threw him. Something
> made a nasty crack, he sprawled, and when we both got to our feet, his
> right arm was hanging. I'd dislocated his shoulder.
> He didn't seem fazed by that; instead he moved in with a kick
> series, battering at my guard and driving me back, then breaking
> through my guard with one particularly good high kick. I heard the
> crack as my nose broke, and felt the warm gush of blood down the front
> of my formerly white shirt. Shaking the flashing lights out of my
> vision and swallowing the pain, I tried to counter with a backfist,
> but miscalculated his position and swung past him. As I missed, Guile
> tried to get a grip on me, the better to throw me, but I dug in my
> feet (and my Ler) and stopped, then used an elbow strike to break his
> one-handed grip. I spun inside his guard, bringing one knee up under
> his chin, and WHACK he was going up, over, and crashing to the ground
> on his back.
> He brought up his feet, flexed, and managed to get to
> something approaching a standing position in a sloppy kippup. I
> capitalized on this momentary lapse by landing another three-puncher;
> it seemed to snap him to, and he actually did manage to suplex me
> one-handed, which impressed me mightily. I was too busy being
> impressed to do very much about it, and ended up boosting the fiber in
> my diet with the floor.
> I knew it was starting to go bad, but there wasn't much I
> could do about it. I hadn't come into this prepared to fight. I was
> tired, stiff from lurking around the desert for so long, hungry,
> thirsty and in the wrong time zone. My concentration was minimal and
> my energy level poor.
> Bah. I'm making excuses. No doubt Rose would tell me that if
> she were here. The bottom line is that I proceeded to get my ass
> completely, thoroughly, professionally kicked. With Guile, one
> mistake is all you get, and I'd made my second one. It fell apart
> quickly from there, and if I'd had time to think about it as
> everything went dark I'd have wondered whether I would wake up under
> guard in the base hospital, or just in the corner of a cell in the
> stockade.
>
> G
> Building 19 was a fairly long hike down the dusty tarmac, and
> if we had tried it in daylight, even discounting the detection aspect,
> we'd have been sweating like pigs. As it was, we kept up a brisk
> walking pace that kept the chill off, and had a pleasant evening
> stroll, if you disregard the nerve-shattering tension.
ARL <Gryphon>: We're going to miss Sanford and Son!
> It took us
> half an hour to reach the man door at the back of Building 19,
GAVOK <singing>: Make a belch and turn the nob! Open it and be a slob! Iiiiiiiit's the Man Door!
> and a
> minute ten for Meg to pick the cheap padlock in the dark.
> The hangar was dimly lit and smelled of dust, metal and stale
> kerosene,
MMK: Simon and Garfunkle were going to sing a song about it, but "rosemary" sounded better.
> and though it was enormous, it was entirely dominated by a
> single item.
> Unlike Zoner, I had never heard of the Bionic Six before
> meeting Meg. Living a sheltered life in the woods of Maine, not often
> watching the news, isolated from all but the most pervasive marketing
> efforts (hey, we missed 'Robotech', too), I'd never seen a picture of
> Sky Dancer, which, I think, made seeing the real aircraft there in
> front of me all the more impressive.
> It rather resembled a Concorde SST, though a bit blockier. I
> don't know how big a Concorde is, so I couldn't make a guess as to
> relative scale - I'm lousy at judging that kind of thing by eye
> anyway. It was, anyway, a big plane, longer than the Prince of
> Thebes, although with faster and less spacious lines. We did a slow
> walkaround, silently taking in the aircraft's graceful, sweeping
> lines, while Zoner's practiced eye examined the control surfaces and
> the ship in general for airworthiness. At length, after a complete
> lap around the plane, we stopped underneath the rather tall landing
> gear, near the nose.
> "Think you can get the belly ramp open?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "If they didn't change the security codes, I should be able
> to," she replied. She pushed back the sleeve of her uniform jacket -
> that wrist computer was back - and tapped a couple of keys. Then she
> frowned thoughtfully at the display for a moment, brightened, and
> tapped a few more.
S.D. <Meg>: It erased my FreeCell scores.
> Sky Dancer thought about it for a moment, and then the ramp
> began to descend. Zoner grinned, took off his uniform jacket,
> loosened his tie, and started up the ramp with Meg right after him. I
> followed, and stood near the back of the flight deck as Zoner strapped
> himself into the pilot's seat and Meg took co-pilot. I wasn't miffed;
> she knew the aircraft a hell of a lot better than me or Zoner, so the
> seating arrangement made sense. I busied myself by finding a storage
> locker and tucking my tiki mask into it.
> She gave him a quick run-down of the controls as she
> remembered them, and Zoner's instincts took care of the rest.
> "This is a good instrument layout," he remarked. "Very
> intuitive, everything's well-marked and easy to reach. Ahead of its
> time."
> "Everything about us was ahead of its time," Meg replied, a
> bit wistfully.
> Zoner called up a full diagnostic on the center video display
> unit. "Looks like they stored her ready to run. Good, I was half
> afraid they'd have formally mothballed her."
> "We didn't have a support staff," Meg explained, "so they
> built her to be self-maintaining. Automated systems keep her ready to
> fly under pretty much any conditions."
> "Amazing," said Zoner. "Howard Hughes would've loved that
> system."
MMK: What was that about "Amazing" and "Howard"?
> "I think he invented it," said Meg. "I know he was on the
> project... " She looked momentarily alarmed, then sheepish. "Uh, you
> weren't supposed to hear that."
> "My lips," said Zoner with a smirk, "are sealed. Guess it's
> time to see if she'll start up."
> "Shouldn't we open the hangar doors?" I wondered.
> "Hmm... y'know, that might be a good idea," Zoner replied.
> "Yeah... I'm new at this whole aeronautics thing, but I kinda
> suspected that would be a useful thing to do." I went back down the
> ramp and surveyed the huge door at the front of the hangar, hoping
> like hell I wouldn't have to open it by hand with a chain-fall or
> something equally obnoxious. But no, there was the power actuator
> control, in the corner - a typical industrial-green metal box with a
> green button and a red button.
TBS <announcer>: The red CANDY LIKE button! Will he hold out? Can he hold out?
GAVOK <Stimpy>: NO I CAN'T!
> I hit the green button a half-second before I noticed the
> security keypad in the shadows next to it, and a howling alarm
> promptly filled the hangar.
> "Ahh, shit!" is a fair summation of my reaction.
> I ran back up the ramp.
> "What the hell happened?" Zoner asked.
> "I fucked up," I replied. "The damn door control has a
> security keypad next to it and I didn't see it until it was too late."
> "Shit!" Zoner growled, his fingers flying over the controls.
> "Well, let's hope she's ready to roll in a hurry. Think you can get
> that door open?"
> "I'll try," I replied, and ran back to the control. There
> wasn't time to be clever with it, so I grabbed the conduit running
> down the wall and into the keypad box and yanked it off. The wires
> sparked a bit, graciously identifying the live lead for me. I took it
> and its mate by the insulation, jammed them together, then hit the
> green button again and hoped.
RACE <Gryphon>: Please let Dr. Sam Beckett find his way home!
> Another siren joined its voice to the first, and a red
> strobing light filled the hangar as the door began to open. Still
> holding the leads together, I looked around the corner as the door
> swung up. A few hundred yards down the flightline, I could see
> headlights swerving out of the Building 9 garage, heading this way. I
> turned back and watched the door. Behind me, Sky Dancer's engines
> rumbled to life, and her flashing marker lights and whining engines
> added to the visual and aural cacophony.
> Zoner slid one of the cockpit windows back - a feature not to
> be found on the Concorde, I'd guess - and hollered, "That's good, we
> can clear it now!"
> I let go of the leads - and to my dismay, the door started
> closing again.
> "Ahh, shit!" I repeated, and pushed them back together.
> "What's wrong?" Zoner cried.
> "The goddamn door won't stay open unless I hold the leads!" I
> shouted back. "Go on, get going! I'll find my own way out!"
> "Are you sure?" he replied.
> "Look, if you hang around, we'll -all- get caught, now get
> moving!"
> He looked at me for a long second, then nodded and closed the
> window. Sky Dancer's engines spooled up from a whine to a shriek, and
> she eased out of her place, rolling out onto the tarmac.
> The second her tail was clear, I let go of the leads and ran
> like hell for the other end of the hangar. There were a few crates
> lying around the periphery of the space that had once held Sky Dancer,
> but nothing big enough to hide among. Under the howl of the alarm I
> could hear the sirens of the approaching security vehicles, the squeal
> of tires on tarmac as they stopped outside. The door slammed down.
MMK <Door>: Dominos!
> One piece of good fortune, anyway - they probably wouldn't be able to
> open that one from outside now.
> I looked at the door we came in through, then immediately
> disregarded it. Air Police, or worse,
ARL: Joan Rivers.
> would be coming through that
> door any second now. Struggling to keep calm, I looked around for
> another escape. Outside, I heard gunfire, then the roar of Sky
> Dancer's engines as Zoner threw in the afterburners and took off. It
> occurred to me that they probably didn't know anyone had been left
> behind.
> Then I spotted it - a manhole, no, more like a storm drain
> grate, set in the middle of the hangar floor. It must have been put
> there to provide drainage in case aircraft were washed inside the
> hangar or some such. I didn't know if it would offer an escape route,
> but at the very least, if I could get it open, it represented a place
> to hide. I knew there was no way it ran off base. That only worked
> in the movies, in real life they never did something as stupid as
> running a drain tunnel to the outside world.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But then I remembered, "I write this!" and teleported to Disney World.
> But I figured at least
> it would give me a lead on the APs, and some distance from ground
> zero.
> I was lifting the grate out of place when the door we came in
> through opened, but only one man came in. To my shock, it was even a
> man I recognized, and as he spotted me, the same startled recognition
> flowered in his own eyes.
> Captain William F. Guile, USAF. Former test pilot, now a sort
> of free-range security and intelligence agent attached to the Joint
> Special Forces Command. Charlie Nash's best friend - and a fellow
> holder of the World Warrior ranking in the World Circuit Martial Arts
> Tournament Series. We'd met a couple of times on the circuit, fought
> once back before either of us was a World Warrior. He won.
> We stood there regarding each other for a few seconds, trying
> to figure out what to do next; then Guile turned, leaned out of the
> doorway, and told someone I couldn't see that the hangar was deserted
> and that he'd secure it himself. Then he stepped back inside, closed
> the door, set the inside bolt lock, cracked a sardonic grin and spoke.
> What he said wasn't exactly comforting.
TBS <Guile>: They aren't releasing Rob Zombie's Night of a Thousand Corpses. Sorry.
> "Well, well," he said. "You, my friend, are in serious
> trouble."
MMK <Guile>: Go to your room!
> "Really."
> "Really," he replied. "I've suspected you and Zoner weren't
> all some of our intel people think you are ever since I found out you
> use the same style as M. Bison. Tell me, was it on his orders that
> you came here to steal Sky Dancer?"
> "Don't be an idiot," I replied scornfully. "I've never even
> -met- M. Bison, and if I did I'd do my damnedest to take him down.
> We're students of the same master, but we're not on the same path."
> "So why is it you're the one who's breached security at one of
> the most tightly guarded places in the United States? And by
> impersonating an officer, too. That's a serious offense in and of
> itself."
> I shook my head. "This is above your level, Guile. It's not
> your job to interfere with an operation you don't need to know about."
> "It -is- my job to enforce the security of this base," replied
> Guile evenly.
RACE: So he replies in the same style as the top of his hair.
> "I don't care what you claim you're up to, it can't be
> legitimate if it involves breaking into and out of Area 51."
> "You've got a lot of repressed feelings, don't you, Guile?" I
> observed. "Must be what keeps your hair up."
> "You aren't funny, bud," replied Guile, flat and humorless as
> always. I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, though. He was
> wavering... I just had to find the right key.
> I sighed. "Don't be such a hardass, Guile! This thing is
> way over your bushy head, and if you take me in, when the paper
> chase is over the only fingers pointing anywhere will be pointing at
> -you-."
> "It's my job," he repeated, firmer.
> "Ahh," I replied, gesturing dismissively. "Do me a favor.
> Show a fellow World Warrior some professional courtesy."
> Guile snorted. "Some World Warrior. You got into the bracket
> by beating up on a teenage girl."
> "You've obviously never met Cammy," I replied. "And while
> we're on the subject, which of us was it that got his ass kicked by
> Chun Li last month?"
> Guile flushed angrily.
MMK <Guile>: Stupid turd! Go away! Crap, where's the plunger?
> "She's no girl," he said darkly. "I'm
> not 100% sure she's human."
> "You are -such- a paranoid," I replied. "What is she, then, a
> warrior android from the Hunan Galaxy?"
> "Forget it," Guile said. "I was trying to make a joke."
GAVOK <Cameron Poe>: Thanks for telling me.
> "Oh. Y'know, it would help you get that message across if you
> were to smile."
> "I'm on duty," replied Guile stolidly.
> "Of course." I sighed. "Look, I'm not going to just let you
> take me in. I've got things to do, and they don't include spending
> time in the cooler at Area 51. Frankly, the sooner I'm out of this
> desert the happier I'll be."
> "You don't have any choice. You're under arrest."
> I rolled my eyes. "All right, fine. If you want to handle
> this like we're back in fifth grade, fine." I took off my uniform
> jacket and threw it aside, loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and
> stepped toward Guile, settling into a ready stance. He narrowed his
> eyes at me and readied himself as well.
> On the occasions I'd had to watch him fight, I'd formed the
> opinion that Guile's style was mainly generic Special Forces training,
> with a smattering of what looked like Muay Thai he'd picked up while
> stationed out that way - that is to say, lots of knee and elbow
> attacks, most of them cheap shots. He was faster than me, but that's
> not all that uncommon.
MMK: Being a cube and all.
> I was pretty confident I could handle him, as
> long as I stayed clear of his elbows.
> He sidled toward me, fists up in a boxing guard, shoulders
> rolling, and shot a jab at my face; I weaved a bit to the left and
> launched a snap kick at his knees. It didn't do much damage, but it
> pushed him back a little bit; undaunted, he used the extra room for a
> roundhouse kick. I blocked it with a flared forearm, feinted, and
> swung into a three-punch combo, left jab-right hook-left uppercut,
> unloading the flare in my left fist on the uppercut. All three
> landed, and Guile stumbled back a step.
> "SONIC - BOOM!" he shouted, bringing his fists across in front
> of him in a sweeping crossover that threw a dazzling arc of energy at
> me. Hmph. Where'd he figure out how to do -that-? Maybe they teach
> it to everybody in the Joint Forces Task Group.
> I tried to jump over it, but a little too late; it caught me
> in the ankles like a clothesline and hurled me to the tarmac
> face-first. I hadn't quite roused enough neurons to get up after that
> when he thumped me in the middle of the back, which seized up my lungs
> for a second and hurt like hell. That was good; it made me mad, which
> is the surest way I know of to clear out the cobwebs. I scrambled
> sideways to my feet and launched my double kick at him, left, right,
> two solid hits, and it was -his- turn to sprawl.
> I was tempted to give him a good stomping while he was down
> there, but I try to avoid doing stuff like that to anyone who hasn't
> -really- ticked me off, and he hadn't earned it yet. So I let him get
> back to his feet in peace, and we more or less started over. The
> glint in his eyes had changed a little since we started. I'd like to
> think the new element I saw was respect, but it might also have been
> annoyance.
> He came at me with a double-punch-and-knee combination which I
> mostly avoided, taking the punches glancingly on my shoulders and
> blocking the knee completely; while I was busy doing that, though, he
> caught me in the side of the head with an elbow that almost dropped me
> back to the ground. I stumbled and he followed up by sweeping my feet
> from under me; I fell face-first.
> Guile hadn't expected me to recover so fast, though; I caught
> myself on my hands and turned the facefault into a handspring, and
> brought my doubled fists down squarely on the top of his flattop
> hairdo with a resounding KLONK that smacked his teeth together. He
> stumbled back a step, and I helped him back with a flat-palm to the
> middle of his chest that knocked him over with a deep "whoof" of
> out-knocked wind.
> He was a quick recoverer, too; he caught himself on one hand
> and did a spiffy pommel-horse-like spin that was supposed to be a leg
> sweep, except I saw it in time and jumped over it. Then he was back
> on his feet, then off them again as he came at me in a curious jumping
> sideways spin kick that turned him, at one point, completely upside
> down. I got tagged pretty hard by that one, but it was worth it to
> see him do it, the move was that neat. I wobbled back a step, and
> steadied my stance in time to see him hurl another Sonic Boom at me.
> I took one running step toward it, turned my back, then
> drifted left with the little dance-step I'd learned from Cammy to add
> to my spinning backfist, letting the Sonic Boom pass harmlessly by.
> The backfist connected hard with his jaw, and was flared, to boot; the
> impact lifted Guile completely off the ground and spun him halfway
> around before dropping him heavily to the pavement on his side. He
> got to his feet, but a lot less snappily than before. As I
> approached, he dropped to a crouch, and the little alarm bells in the
> back of my head started sounding.
> A little too late, I tried to Ler-slide inside his attack arc
> and get in a few face shots. Just as I did, he burst upward
> from his crouch into his trademark flash kick, doing a complete
> somersault and leaving a trail of dazzling energy behind his kicking
> foot. A few inches too far away, I was just at the perfect spot for
> him to unload all that energy into me. Time stuttered for a moment,
S.D. <Billy Madison>: T-t-t-t-today, junior!
> and I came back to myself maybe a half-second later, landing on my
> back and turning completely over with the momentum. He tried to
> trounce me in the back again, but this time I rolled out of the way,
> grabbed his arm, locked my legs around it and threw him. Something
> made a nasty crack, he sprawled, and when we both got to our feet, his
> right arm was hanging. I'd dislocated his shoulder.
> He didn't seem fazed by that; instead he moved in with a kick
> series, battering at my guard and driving me back, then breaking
> through my guard with one particularly good high kick. I heard the
> crack as my nose broke, and felt the warm gush of blood down the front
> of my formerly white shirt.
MMK <Mankind>: And I realized, I LIKE THIS!
> Shaking the flashing lights out of my
> vision and swallowing the pain, I tried to counter with a backfist,
> but miscalculated his position and swung past him. As I missed, Guile
> tried to get a grip on me, the better to throw me, but I dug in my
> feet (and my Ler) and stopped, then used an elbow strike to break his
> one-handed grip. I spun inside his guard, bringing one knee up under
> his chin, and WHACK he was going up, over, and crashing to the ground
> on his back.
> He brought up his feet, flexed, and managed to get to
> something approaching a standing position in a sloppy kippup. I
> capitalized on this momentary lapse by landing another three-puncher;
> it seemed to snap him to, and he actually did manage to suplex me
> one-handed, which impressed me mightily. I was too busy being
> impressed to do very much about it, and ended up boosting the fiber in
> my diet with the floor.
> I knew it was starting to go bad, but there wasn't much I
> could do about it. I hadn't come into this prepared to fight. I was
> tired, stiff from lurking around the desert for so long, hungry,
> thirsty and in the wrong time zone. My concentration was minimal and
> my energy level poor.
> Bah. I'm making excuses. No doubt Rose would tell me that if
> she were here. The bottom line is that I proceeded to get my ass
> completely, thoroughly, professionally kicked. With Guile, one
> mistake is all you get, and I'd made my second one. It fell apart
> quickly from there, and if I'd had time to think about it as
> everything went dark I'd have wondered whether I would wake up under
> guard in the base hospital, or just in the corner of a cell in the
> stockade.
GAVOK: In 1998, a street fighter was sent to prison by a military guy with a flat top for a crime he did kind of commit. This man promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Worchester underground. Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the G-Team.
[MMK and GAVOK stand up and start jogging around the theater.]
MMK <Gryphon>, GAVOK <Zoner>: Hike, hike, hike, hike, hike, hike...
>down the dusty tarmac, and
> if we had tried it in daylight, even discounting the detection aspect,
> we'd have been sweating like pigs. As it was, we kept up a brisk
> walking pace that kept the chill off, and had a pleasant evening
> stroll,
S.D.: Awww... how romantic.
RACE <Gryphon>: I'm a self-important Godboy who enjoys long walks along dusty tarmacs in the dead of the night...
>if you disregard the nerve-shattering tension.
ARL <Gryphon>: We're going to miss Sanford and Son!
> It took us
> half an hour to reach the man door at the back of Building 19,
GAVOK <singing>: Make a belch and turn the nob! Open it and be a slob! Iiiiiiiit's the Man Door!
> and a
> minute ten for Meg to pick the cheap padlock in the dark.
> The hangar was dimly lit and smelled of dust, metal and stale
> kerosene,
MMK: Simon and Garfunkle were going to sing a song about it, but "rosemary" sounded better.
> and though it was enormous, it was entirely dominated by a
> single item.
> Unlike Zoner, I had never heard of the Bionic Six before
> meeting Meg. Living a sheltered life in the woods of Maine,
RACE: --raised by wild monkeys--
>not often
> watching the news, isolated from all but the most pervasive marketing
> efforts (hey, we missed 'Robotech', too), I'd never seen a picture of
> Sky Dancer, which, I think, made seeing the real aircraft there in
> front of me all the more impressive.
> It rather resembled a Concorde SST, though a bit blockier. I
> don't know how big a Concorde is, so I couldn't make a guess as to
> relative scale - I'm lousy at judging that kind of thing by eye
> anyway. It was, anyway, a big plane, longer than the Prince of
> Thebes, although with faster and less spacious lines. We did a slow
> walkaround, silently taking in the aircraft's graceful, sweeping
> lines, while Zoner's practiced eye examined the control surfaces and
> the ship in general for airworthiness. At length, after a complete
> lap around the plane, we stopped underneath the rather tall landing
> gear, near the nose.
> "Think you can get the belly ramp open?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "If they didn't change the security codes, I should be able
> to," she replied. She pushed back the sleeve of her uniform jacket -
> that wrist computer was back - and tapped a couple of keys. Then she
> frowned thoughtfully at the display for a moment, brightened, and
> tapped a few more.
S.D. <Meg>: It erased my FreeCell scores.
> Sky Dancer thought about it for a moment, and then the ramp
> began to descend. Zoner grinned, took off his uniform jacket,
> loosened his tie, and started up the ramp with Meg right after him. I
> followed, and stood near the back of the flight deck as Zoner strapped
> himself into the pilot's seat and Meg took co-pilot. I wasn't miffed;
> she knew the aircraft a hell of a lot better than me or Zoner, so the
> seating arrangement made sense.
ARL: So why in hell didn't Meg take the pilot's seat?
>I busied myself by finding a storage
> locker and tucking my tiki mask into it.
> She gave him a quick run-down of the controls as she
> remembered them, and Zoner's instincts took care of the rest.
> "This is a good instrument layout," he remarked. "Very
> intuitive, everything's well-marked and easy to reach. Ahead of its
> time."
> "Everything about us was ahead of its time," Meg replied, a
> bit wistfully.
> Zoner called up a full diagnostic on the center video display
> unit. "Looks like they stored her ready to run. Good, I was half
> afraid they'd have formally mothballed her."
> "We didn't have a support staff," Meg explained, "so they
> built her to be self-maintaining. Automated systems keep her ready to
> fly under pretty much any conditions."
> "Amazing," said Zoner. "Howard Hughes would've loved that
> system."
MMK: What was that about "Amazing" and "Howard"?
> "I think he invented it," said Meg. "I know he was on the
> project... " She looked momentarily alarmed, then sheepish. "Uh, you
> weren't supposed to hear that."
> "My lips," said Zoner with a smirk, "are sealed. Guess it's
> time to see if she'll start up."
> "Shouldn't we open the hangar doors?" I wondered.
> "Hmm... y'know, that might be a good idea," Zoner replied.
> "Yeah... I'm new at this whole aeronautics thing, but I kinda
> suspected that would be a useful thing to do." I went back down the
> ramp and surveyed the huge door at the front of the hangar, hoping
> like hell I wouldn't have to open it by hand with a chain-fall or
> something equally obnoxious. But no, there was the power actuator
> control, in the corner - a typical industrial-green metal box with a
> green button and a red button.
TBS <announcer>: The red CANDY LIKE button! Will he hold out? Can he hold out?
GAVOK <Stimpy>: NO I CAN'T!
> I hit the green button a half-second before I noticed the
> security keypad in the shadows next to it, and a howling alarm
> promptly filled the hangar.
> "Ahh, shit!" is a fair summation of my reaction.
> I ran back up the ramp.
> "What the hell happened?" Zoner asked.
> "I fucked up," I replied. "The damn door control has a
> security keypad next to it and I didn't see it until it was too late."
> "Shit!" Zoner growled, his fingers flying over the controls.
MMK <fingers>: WHOOSH!
> "Well, let's hope she's ready to roll in a hurry. Think you can get
> that door open?"
> "I'll try," I replied, and ran back to the control. There
> wasn't time to be clever with it, so I grabbed the conduit running
> down the wall and into the keypad box and yanked it off. The wires
> sparked a bit,
S.D.: Frying Gryphon where he stood with 50,000 volts of electricity?
>graciously identifying the live lead for me.
[S.D. snaps her fingers.]
>I took it
> and its mate by the insulation, jammed them together, then hit the
> green button again and hoped.
RACE <Gryphon>: Please let Dr. Sam Beckett find his way home!
> Another siren joined its voice to the first, and a red
> strobing light filled the hangar as the door began to open. Still
> holding the leads together, I looked around the corner as the door
> swung up. A few hundred yards down the flightline, I could see
> headlights swerving out of the Building 9 garage, heading this way. I
> turned back and watched the door. Behind me, Sky Dancer's engines
> rumbled to life, and her flashing marker lights and whining engines
> added to the visual and aural cacophony.
> Zoner slid one of the cockpit windows back - a feature not to
> be found on the Concorde, I'd guess - and hollered, "That's good, we
> can clear it now!"
> I let go of the leads - and to my dismay, the door started
> closing again.
> "Ahh, shit!" I repeated, and pushed them back together.
> "What's wrong?" Zoner cried.
> "The goddamn door won't stay open unless I hold the leads!" I
> shouted back. "Go on, get going! I'll find my own way out!"
> "Are you sure?" he replied.
> "Look, if you hang around, we'll -all- get caught, now get
> moving!"
> He looked at me for a long second, then nodded and closed the
> window. Sky Dancer's engines spooled up from a whine to a shriek, and
> she eased out of her place, rolling out onto the tarmac.
> The second her tail was clear, I let go of the leads and ran
> like hell for the other end of the hangar. There were a few crates
> lying around the periphery of the space that had once held Sky Dancer,
> but nothing big enough to hide among. Under the howl of the alarm I
> could hear the sirens of the approaching security vehicles, the squeal
> of tires on tarmac as they stopped outside. The door slammed down.
MMK <Door>: Dominos!
> One piece of good fortune, anyway - they probably wouldn't be able to
> open that one from outside now.
> I looked at the door we came in through, then immediately
> disregarded it. Air Police, or worse,
ARL: Joan Rivers.
> would be coming through that
> door any second now. Struggling to keep calm, I looked around for
> another escape. Outside, I heard gunfire, then the roar of Sky
> Dancer's engines as Zoner threw in the afterburners and took off. It
> occurred to me that they probably didn't know anyone had been left
> behind.
> Then I spotted it - a manhole, no, more like a storm drain
> grate, set in the middle of the hangar floor. It must have been put
> there to provide drainage in case aircraft were washed inside the
> hangar or some such. I didn't know if it would offer an escape route,
> but at the very least, if I could get it open, it represented a place
> to hide. I knew there was no way it ran off base. That only worked
> in the movies, in real life they never did something as stupid as
> running a drain tunnel to the outside world.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But then I remembered, "I write this!" and teleported to Disney World.
> But I figured at least
> it would give me a lead on the APs, and some distance from ground
> zero.
> I was lifting the grate out of place when the door we came in
> through opened, but only one man came in. To my shock, it was even a
> man I recognized, and as he spotted me, the same startled recognition
> flowered in his own eyes.
> Captain William F. Guile, USAF. Former test pilot, now a sort
> of free-range security and intelligence agent attached to the Joint
> Special Forces Command. Charlie Nash's best friend - and a fellow
> holder of the World Warrior ranking in the World Circuit Martial Arts
> Tournament Series. We'd met a couple of times on the circuit, fought
> once back before either of us was a World Warrior. He won.
MMK <Gryphon>: ...I let him.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...with both hands tied behind my back.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...while I had the German flu.
> We stood there regarding each other for a few seconds, trying
> to figure out what to do next; then Guile turned, leaned out of the
> doorway, and told someone I couldn't see that the hangar was deserted
> and that he'd secure it himself. Then he stepped back inside, closed
> the door, set the inside bolt lock, cracked a sardonic grin and spoke.
> What he said wasn't exactly comforting.
TBS <Guile>: They aren't releasing Rob Zombie's Night of a Thousand Corpses. Sorry.
> "Well, well," he said. "You, my friend, are in serious
> trouble."
MMK <Guile>: Go to your room!
> "Really."
> "Really," he replied. "I've suspected you and Zoner weren't
> all some of our intel people think you are ever since I found out you
> use the same style as M. Bison. Tell me, was it on his orders that
> you came here to steal Sky Dancer?"
> "Don't be an idiot," I replied scornfully. "I've never even
> -met- M. Bison, and if I did I'd do my damnedest to take him down.
> We're students of the same master, but we're not on the same path."
> "So why is it you're the one who's breached security at one of
> the most tightly guarded places in the United States? And by
> impersonating an officer, too. That's a serious offense in and of
> itself."
> I shook my head. "This is above your level, Guile. It's not
> your job to interfere with an operation you don't need to know about."
> "It -is- my job to enforce the security of this base," replied
> Guile evenly.
RACE: So he replies in the same style as the top of his hair.
> "I don't care what you claim you're up to, it can't be
> legitimate if it involves breaking into and out of Area 51."
> "You've got a lot of repressed feelings, don't you, Guile?" I
> observed. "Must be what keeps your hair up."
> "You aren't funny, bud," replied Guile, flat and humorless as
> always. I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, though. He was
> wavering... I just had to find the right key.
> I sighed. "Don't be such a hardass, Guile! This thing is
> way over your bushy head, and if you take me in, when the paper
> chase is over the only fingers pointing anywhere will be pointing at
> -you-."
> "It's my job," he repeated, firmer.
> "Ahh," I replied, gesturing dismissively. "Do me a favor.
> Show a fellow World Warrior some professional courtesy."
> Guile snorted. "Some World Warrior. You got into the bracket
> by beating up on a teenage girl."
> "You've obviously never met Cammy," I replied. "And while
> we're on the subject, which of us was it that got his ass kicked by
> Chun Li last month?"
> Guile flushed angrily.
MMK <Guile>: Stupid turd! Go away! Crap, where's the plunger?
> "She's no girl," he said darkly. "I'm
> not 100% sure she's human."
> "You are -such- a paranoid," I replied. "What is she, then, a
> warrior android from the Hunan Galaxy?"
> "Forget it," Guile said. "I was trying to make a joke."
GAVOK <Cameron Poe>: Thanks for telling me.
> "Oh. Y'know, it would help you get that message across if you
> were to smile."
> "I'm on duty," replied Guile stolidly.
> "Of course." I sighed. "Look, I'm not going to just let you
> take me in. I've got things to do, and they don't include spending
> time in the cooler at Area 51. Frankly, the sooner I'm out of this
> desert the happier I'll be."
> "You don't have any choice. You're under arrest."
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But I don't like that! I prefer Oh! My Goddess!"
[OTHERS groan.]
> I rolled my eyes. "All right, fine. If you want to handle
> this like we're back in fifth grade, fine." I took off my uniform
> jacket and threw it aside, loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and
> stepped toward Guile, settling into a ready stance. He narrowed his
> eyes at me and readied himself as well.
> On the occasions I'd had to watch him fight, I'd formed the
> opinion that Guile's style was mainly generic Special Forces training,
> with a smattering of what looked like Muay Thai he'd picked up while
> stationed out that way - that is to say, lots of knee and elbow
> attacks, most of them cheap shots. He was faster than me, but that's
> not all that uncommon.
MMK: Being a cube and all.
> I was pretty confident I could handle him, as
> long as I stayed clear of his elbows.
> He sidled toward me, fists up in a boxing guard, shoulders
> rolling, and shot a jab at my face; I weaved a bit to the left and
> launched a snap kick at his knees. It didn't do much damage, but it
> pushed him back a little bit; undaunted, he used the extra room for a
> roundhouse kick. I blocked it with a flared forearm, feinted, and
> swung into a three-punch combo, left jab-right hook-left uppercut,
> unloading the flare in my left fist on the uppercut. All three
> landed, and Guile stumbled back a step.
> "SONIC - BOOM!" he shouted, bringing his fists across in front
> of him in a sweeping crossover that
MMK: --spanned all of the company's May titles.
>threw a dazzling arc of energy at
> me. Hmph. Where'd he figure out how to do -that-? Maybe they teach
> it to everybody in the Joint Forces Task Group.
> I tried to jump over it, but a little too late; it caught me
> in the ankles like a clothesline and hurled me to the tarmac
> face-first. I hadn't quite roused enough neurons to get up after that
> when he thumped me in the middle of the back, which seized up my lungs
> for a second and hurt like hell. That was good; it made me mad, which
> is the surest way I know of to clear out the cobwebs. I scrambled
> sideways to my feet and launched my double kick at him, left, right,
> two solid hits, and it was -his- turn to sprawl.
> I was tempted to give him a good stomping while he was down
> there, but I try to avoid doing stuff like that to anyone who hasn't
> -really- ticked me off, and he hadn't earned it yet. So I let him get
> back to his feet in peace, and we more or less started over. The
> glint in his eyes had changed a little since we started. I'd like to
> think the new element I saw was respect, but it might also have been
> annoyance.
> He came at me with a double-punch-and-knee combination which I
> mostly avoided, taking the punches glancingly on my shoulders and
> blocking the knee completely; while I was busy doing that, though, he
> caught me in the side of the head with an elbow that almost dropped me
> back to the ground. I stumbled and he followed up by sweeping my feet
> from under me; I fell face-first.
> Guile hadn't expected me to recover so fast, though; I caught
> myself on my hands and turned the facefault into a handspring, and
> brought my doubled fists down squarely on the top of his flattop
> hairdo with a resounding KLONK that smacked his teeth together. He
> stumbled back a step, and I helped him back with a flat-palm to the
> middle of his chest that knocked him over with a deep "whoof" of
> out-knocked wind.
> He was a quick recoverer, too; he caught himself on one hand
> and did a spiffy pommel-horse-like spin that was supposed to be a leg
> sweep, except I saw it in time and jumped over it. Then he was back
> on his feet, then off them again as he came at me in a curious jumping
> sideways spin kick that turned him, at one point, completely upside
> down. I got tagged pretty hard by that one, but it was worth it to
> see him do it, the move was that neat. I wobbled back a step, and
> steadied my stance in time to see him hurl another Sonic Boom at me.
> I took one running step toward it, turned my back, then
> drifted left with the little dance-step I'd learned from Cammy to add
> to my spinning backfist, letting the Sonic Boom pass harmlessly by.
> The backfist connected hard with his jaw, and was flared, to boot; the
> impact lifted Guile completely off the ground and spun him halfway
> around before dropping him heavily to the pavement on his side. He
> got to his feet, but a lot less snappily than before. As I
> approached, he dropped to a crouch, and the little alarm bells in the
> back of my head started sounding.
> A little too late, I tried to Ler-slide inside his attack arc
> and get in a few face shots. Just as I did, he burst upward
> from his crouch into his trademark flash kick, doing a complete
> somersault and leaving a trail of dazzling energy behind his kicking
> foot. A few inches too far away, I was just at the perfect spot for
> him to unload all that energy into me. Time stuttered for a moment,
S.D. <Billy Madison>: T-t-t-t-today, junior!
> and I came back to myself maybe a half-second later, landing on my
> back and turning completely over with the momentum. He tried to
> trounce me in the back again, but this time I rolled out of the way,
> grabbed his arm, locked my legs around it and threw him. Something
> made a nasty crack, he sprawled, and when we both got to our feet, his
> right arm was hanging. I'd dislocated his shoulder.
> He didn't seem fazed by that; instead he moved in with a kick
> series, battering at my guard and driving me back, then breaking
> through my guard with one particularly good high kick. I heard the
> crack as my nose broke, and felt the warm gush of blood down the front
> of my formerly white shirt.
MMK <Mankind>: And I realized, I LIKE THIS!
> Shaking the flashing lights out of my
> vision and swallowing the pain,
MMK <Gryphon>: Mmmm... bitter...
>I tried to counter with a backfist,
> but miscalculated his position and swung past him. As I missed, Guile
> tried to get a grip on me, the better to throw me, but I dug in my
> feet (and my Ler) and stopped, then used an elbow strike to break his
> one-handed grip. I spun inside his guard, bringing one knee up under
> his chin, and WHACK he was going up, over, and crashing to the ground
> on his back.
> He brought up his feet, flexed, and managed to get to
> something approaching a standing position in a sloppy kippup. I
> capitalized on this momentary lapse by landing another three-puncher;
> it seemed to snap him to, and he actually did manage to suplex me
> one-handed, which impressed me mightily. I was too busy being
> impressed to do very much about it, and ended up boosting the fiber in
> my diet with the floor.
> I knew it was starting to go bad,
RACE: Then you'd better throw that floor out instead of eating it, G-boy.
>but there wasn't much I
> could do about it. I hadn't come into this prepared to fight. I was
> tired, stiff from lurking around the desert for so long, hungry,
> thirsty and in the wrong time zone. My concentration was minimal and
> my energy level poor.
> Bah. I'm making excuses. No doubt Rose would tell me that if
> she were here. The bottom line is that I proceeded to get my ass
> completely, thoroughly, professionally kicked. With Guile, one
> mistake is all you get, and I'd made my second one. It fell apart
> quickly from there, and if I'd had time to think about it as
> everything went dark I'd have wondered whether I would wake up under
> guard in the base hospital, or just in the corner of a cell in the
> stockade.
GAVOK: In 1998, a street fighter was sent to prison by a military guy with a flat top for a crime he did kind of commit. This man promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Worchester underground. Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the G-Team.
[MMK and GAVOK stand up and start jogging around the theater.]
MMK <Gryphon>, GAVOK <Zoner>: Hike, hike, hike, hike, hike, hike...
>down the dusty tarmac, and
> if we had tried it in daylight, even discounting the detection aspect,
> we'd have been sweating like pigs. As it was, we kept up a brisk
> walking pace that kept the chill off, and had a pleasant evening
> stroll,
S.D.: Awww... how romantic.
RACE <Gryphon>: I'm a self-important Godboy who enjoys long walks along dusty tarmacs in the dead of the night...
>if you disregard the nerve-shattering tension.
ARL <Gryphon>: We're going to miss Sanford and Son!
> It took us
> half an hour to reach the man door at the back of Building 19,
GAVOK <singing>: Make a belch and turn the nob! Open it and be a slob! Iiiiiiiit's the Man Door!
> and a
> minute ten for Meg to pick the cheap padlock in the dark.
> The hangar was dimly lit and smelled of dust, metal and stale
> kerosene,
MMK: Simon and Garfunkle were going to sing a song about it, but "rosemary" sounded better.
> and though it was enormous, it was entirely dominated by a
> single item.
> Unlike Zoner, I had never heard of the Bionic Six before
> meeting Meg. Living a sheltered life in the woods of Maine,
RACE: --raised by wild monkeys--
>not often
> watching the news, isolated from all but the most pervasive marketing
> efforts (hey, we missed 'Robotech', too), I'd never seen a picture of
> Sky Dancer, which, I think, made seeing the real aircraft there in
> front of me all the more impressive.
> It rather resembled a Concorde SST, though a bit blockier. I
> don't know how big a Concorde is, so I couldn't make a guess as to
> relative scale - I'm lousy at judging that kind of thing by eye
> anyway. It was, anyway, a big plane, longer than the Prince of
> Thebes, although with faster and less spacious lines. We did a slow
> walkaround, silently taking in the aircraft's graceful, sweeping
> lines, while Zoner's practiced eye examined the control surfaces and
> the ship in general for airworthiness. At length, after a complete
> lap around the plane, we stopped underneath the rather tall landing
> gear, near the nose.
> "Think you can get the belly ramp open?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "If they didn't change the security codes, I should be able
> to," she replied. She pushed back the sleeve of her uniform jacket -
> that wrist computer was back - and tapped a couple of keys. Then she
> frowned thoughtfully at the display for a moment, brightened, and
> tapped a few more.
S.D. <Meg>: It erased my FreeCell scores.
> Sky Dancer thought about it for a moment, and then the ramp
> began to descend. Zoner grinned, took off his uniform jacket,
> loosened his tie, and started up the ramp with Meg right after him. I
> followed, and stood near the back of the flight deck as Zoner strapped
> himself into the pilot's seat and Meg took co-pilot. I wasn't miffed;
> she knew the aircraft a hell of a lot better than me or Zoner, so the
> seating arrangement made sense.
ARL: So why in hell didn't Meg take the pilot's seat?
>I busied myself by finding a storage
> locker and tucking my tiki mask into it.
MMK: Tucking the tiki? Hey, that sounds pretty cool! Say it with me, Shady! Tucking the TIKI!!
S.D.: ...leave me out of your twisted mind games, Knight...
> She gave him a quick run-down of the controls as she
> remembered them, and Zoner's instincts took care of the rest.
> "This is a good instrument layout," he remarked. "Very
> intuitive, everything's well-marked and easy to reach. Ahead of its
> time."
> "Everything about us was ahead of its time," Meg replied, a
> bit wistfully.
> Zoner called up a full diagnostic on the center video display
> unit. "Looks like they stored her ready to run. Good, I was half
> afraid they'd have formally mothballed her."
> "We didn't have a support staff," Meg explained, "so they
> built her to be self-maintaining. Automated systems keep her ready to
> fly under pretty much any conditions."
> "Amazing," said Zoner. "Howard Hughes would've loved that
> system."
MMK: What was that about "Amazing" and "Howard"?
> "I think he invented it," said Meg. "I know he was on the
> project... " She looked momentarily alarmed, then sheepish. "Uh, you
> weren't supposed to hear that."
> "My lips," said Zoner with a smirk, "are sealed. Guess it's
> time to see if she'll start up."
> "Shouldn't we open the hangar doors?" I wondered.
> "Hmm... y'know, that might be a good idea," Zoner replied.
> "Yeah... I'm new at this whole aeronautics thing, but I kinda
> suspected that would be a useful thing to do."
ARL: God, can't he go for *five minutes* without being smarmy?
TBS: No. But that's what makes him so loveable!
[TBS giggles in a disturbingly high-pitched voice. ALL eye him warily.]
> I went back down the
> ramp and surveyed the huge door at the front of the hangar, hoping
> like hell I wouldn't have to open it by hand with a chain-fall or
> something equally obnoxious. But no, there was the power actuator
> control, in the corner - a typical industrial-green metal box with a
> green button and a red button.
TBS <announcer>: The red CANDY LIKE button! Will he hold out? Can he hold out?
GAVOK <Stimpy>: NO I CAN'T!
> I hit the green button a half-second before I noticed the
> security keypad in the shadows next to it, and a howling alarm
> promptly filled the hangar.
> "Ahh, shit!" is a fair summation of my reaction.
> I ran back up the ramp.
> "What the hell happened?" Zoner asked.
> "I fucked up," I replied. "The damn door control has a
> security keypad next to it and I didn't see it until it was too late."
> "Shit!" Zoner growled, his fingers flying over the controls.
MMK <fingers>: WHOOSH!
> "Well, let's hope she's ready to roll in a hurry. Think you can get
> that door open?"
> "I'll try," I replied, and ran back to the control. There
> wasn't time to be clever with it, so I grabbed the conduit running
> down the wall and into the keypad box and yanked it off. The wires
> sparked a bit,
S.D.: Frying Gryphon where he stood with 50,000 volts of electricity?
>graciously identifying the live lead for me.
[S.D. snaps her fingers.]
>I took it
> and its mate by the insulation, jammed them together, then hit the
> green button again and hoped.
RACE <Gryphon>: Please let Dr. Sam Beckett find his way home!
> Another siren joined its voice to the first, and a red
> strobing light filled the hangar as the door began to open. Still
> holding the leads together, I looked around the corner as the door
> swung up. A few hundred yards down the flightline, I could see
> headlights swerving out of the Building 9 garage, heading this way. I
> turned back and watched the door. Behind me, Sky Dancer's engines
> rumbled to life, and her flashing marker lights and whining engines
> added to the visual and aural cacophony.
> Zoner slid one of the cockpit windows back - a feature not to
> be found on the Concorde, I'd guess - and hollered, "That's good, we
> can clear it now!"
> I let go of the leads - and to my dismay, the door started
> closing again.
> "Ahh, shit!" I repeated, and pushed them back together.
> "What's wrong?" Zoner cried.
> "The goddamn door won't stay open unless I hold the leads!" I
> shouted back. "Go on, get going! I'll find my own way out!"
ARL: So he's going to sneak *out* of Area 51.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...a very high-security location.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...which is currently on full alert.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...on foot.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...and you're not paying attention.
TBS: Sure I am, Jak.
ARL: Excuse me?
TBS: I said- Oh! Right, sorry Arl.
RACE: Have you been seeing other compulsive nitpickers behind Arly's back, Snot?
> "Are you sure?" he replied.
> "Look, if you hang around, we'll -all- get caught, now get
> moving!"
MMK <Gryphon>: Besides... <Wolfgang> that's exactly as I planned it!
[RACE nearly chokes on his soda. ARL blinks.]
GAVOK: Retro *rules*!
MMK: Yeah, it does!
[MMK and GAVOK high-five.]
RACE: You were waiting for another Hutchins 'fic to appear just so you could use that line, weren't you?
MMK <^_^ing>: Mmmmmaybe.
TBS: Just when you thought it was safe, old catchphrases from ages long past sneak up on you like an angry midget wielding a fish.
[TBS nods sagely.]
> He looked at me for a long second, then nodded and closed the
> window. Sky Dancer's engines spooled up from a whine to a shriek, and
> she eased out of her place, rolling out onto the tarmac.
> The second her tail was clear, I let go of the leads and ran
> like hell for the other end of the hangar. There were a few crates
> lying around the periphery of the space that had once held Sky Dancer,
> but nothing big enough to hide among. Under the howl of the alarm I
> could hear the sirens of the approaching security vehicles, the squeal
> of tires on tarmac as they stopped outside. The door slammed down.
MMK <Door>: Dominos!
> One piece of good fortune, anyway - they probably wouldn't be able to
> open that one from outside now.
> I looked at the door we came in through, then immediately
> disregarded it. Air Police, or worse,
ARL: Joan Rivers.
GAVOK: TWO Air Police!
> would be coming through that
> door any second now. Struggling to keep calm, I looked around for
> another escape. Outside, I heard gunfire, then the roar of Sky
> Dancer's engines as Zoner threw in the afterburners and took off. It
> occurred to me that they probably didn't know anyone had been left
> behind.
> Then I spotted it - a manhole, no, more like a storm drain
> grate, set in the middle of the hangar floor. It must have been put
> there to provide drainage in case aircraft were washed inside the
> hangar or some such. I didn't know if it would offer an escape route,
> but at the very least, if I could get it open, it represented a place
> to hide. I knew there was no way it ran off base.
S.D.: Well, you snuck into a military base, went through a room full of crates... may as well try it. You've hit every other first-person shooter cliche checklist...
> That only worked
> in the movies, in real life they never did something as stupid as
> running a drain tunnel to the outside world.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But then I remembered, "I write this!" and teleported to Disney World.
> But I figured at least
> it would give me a lead on the APs, and some distance from ground
> zero.
> I was lifting the grate out of place when the door we came in
> through opened, but only one man came in. To my shock, it was even a
> man I recognized, and as he spotted me, the same startled recognition
> flowered in his own eyes.
> Captain William F. Guile, USAF.
LOONS: Hi, Bucky!
> Former test pilot, now a sort
> of free-range security and intelligence agent attached to the Joint
> Special Forces Command. Charlie Nash's best friend - and a fellow
> holder of the World Warrior ranking in the World Circuit Martial Arts
> Tournament Series. We'd met a couple of times on the circuit, fought
> once back before either of us was a World Warrior. He won.
MMK <Gryphon>: ...I let him.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...with both hands tied behind my back.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...while I had the German flu.
> We stood there regarding each other for a few seconds, trying
> to figure out what to do next;
RACE <Guile, thinking>: Is my fly open?
TBS <Gryphon, thinking>: Should I tell him his fly is open?
> then Guile turned, leaned out of the
> doorway, and told someone I couldn't see that the hangar was deserted
> and that he'd secure it himself. Then he stepped back inside, closed
> the door, set the inside bolt lock, cracked a sardonic grin and spoke.
> What he said wasn't exactly comforting.
TBS <Guile>: They aren't releasing Rob Zombie's Night of a Thousand Corpses. Sorry.
> "Well, well," he said. "You, my friend, are in serious
> trouble."
MMK <Guile>: Go to your room!
> "Really."
TBS <Guile>: No! Not really!
[ALL laugh in a completely fake manner for a few seconds, then stop abruptly.]
> "Really," he replied. "I've suspected you and Zoner weren't
> all some of our intel people think you are ever since I found out you
> use the same style as M. Bison. Tell me, was it on his orders that
> you came here to steal Sky Dancer?"
> "Don't be an idiot," I replied scornfully. "I've never even
> -met- M. Bison, and if I did I'd do my damnedest to take him down.
> We're students of the same master,
ARL: Which is exactly why your fighting style is so similar to Rose's and Bison's. Right.
> but we're not on the same path."
> "So why is it you're the one who's breached security at one of
> the most tightly guarded places in the United States? And by
> impersonating an officer, too. That's a serious offense in and of
> itself."
> I shook my head. "This is above your level, Guile.
S.D. <Gryphon>: We're doing it in Zoner's pursuit of [NOOKIE]. [NOOKIE] rules all.
> It's not
> your job to interfere with an operation you don't need to know about."
> "It -is- my job to enforce the security of this base," replied
> Guile evenly.
RACE: So he replies in the same style as the top of his hair.
> "I don't care what you claim you're up to, it can't be
> legitimate if it involves breaking into and out of Area 51."
> "You've got a lot of repressed feelings, don't you, Guile?" I
> observed. "Must be what keeps your hair up."
> "You aren't funny, bud," replied Guile, flat and humorless as
> always.
ARL: It's like he's *reading my mind.*
> I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, though. He was
> wavering... I just had to find the right key.
> I sighed. "Don't be such a hardass, Guile!
> This thing is
> way over your bushy head, and if you take me in, when the paper
> chase is over the only fingers pointing anywhere will be pointing at
> -you-."
ARL: How, exactly? The entire thing is set up so that it winds back on itself. Ignoring that, you're *still* a civilian that impersonated an officer to sneak into a top-secret military base.
> "It's my job," he repeated, firmer.
> "Ahh," I replied, gesturing dismissively. "Do me a favor.
> Show a fellow World Warrior some professional courtesy."
> Guile snorted. "Some World Warrior. You got into the bracket
> by beating up on a teenage girl."
> "You've obviously never met Cammy," I replied. "And while
> we're on the subject, which of us was it that got his ass kicked by
> Chun Li last month?"
> Guile flushed angrily.
MMK <Guile>: Stupid turd! Go away! Crap, where's the plunger?
> "She's no girl," he said darkly. "I'm
> not 100% sure she's human."
> "You are -such- a paranoid," I replied. "What is she, then, a
> warrior android from the Hunan Galaxy?"
> "Forget it," Guile said. "I was trying to make a joke."
GAVOK <Cameron Poe>: Thanks for telling me.
> "Oh. Y'know, it would help you get that message across if you
> were to smile."
> "I'm on duty," replied Guile stolidly.
> "Of course." I sighed. "Look, I'm not going to just let you
> take me in. I've got things to do, and they don't include spending
> time in the cooler at Area 51. Frankly, the sooner I'm out of this
> desert the happier I'll be."
> "You don't have any choice. You're under arrest."
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But I don't like that! I prefer Oh! My Goddess!"
[OTHERS groan.]
> I rolled my eyes. "All right, fine. If you want to handle
> this like we're back in fifth grade, fine."
ARL <Gryphon>: You and your "federal laws" and your "fraud" and your "breaking and entering"... well I'll have you know...
> I took off my uniform
> jacket and threw it aside, loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and
MMK <Gryphon>: ...tucked my Tiki.
> stepped toward Guile, settling into a ready stance. He narrowed his
> eyes at me and readied himself as well.
> On the occasions I'd had to watch him fight, I'd formed the
> opinion that Guile's style was mainly generic Special Forces training,
ARL: Because being in the Special Forces teaches you how to toss around fireballs and leap several feet into the air with flying kicks.
> with a smattering of what looked like Muay Thai he'd picked up while
> stationed out that way - that is to say, lots of knee and elbow
> attacks, most of them cheap shots. He was faster than me, but that's
> not all that uncommon.
MMK: Being a cube and all.
> I was pretty confident I could handle him, as
> long as I stayed clear of his elbows.
> He sidled toward me, fists up in a boxing guard, shoulders
> rolling, and shot a jab at my face; I weaved a bit to the left and
> launched a snap kick at his knees. It didn't do much damage, but it
> pushed him back a little bit; undaunted, he used the extra room for a
> roundhouse kick. I blocked it with a flared forearm, feinted, and
> swung into a three-punch combo, left jab-right hook-left uppercut,
> unloading the flare in my left fist on the uppercut. All three
> landed, and Guile stumbled back a step.
> "SONIC - BOOM!" he shouted, bringing his fists across in front
> of him in a sweeping crossover that
MMK: --spanned all of the company's May titles.
>threw a dazzling arc of energy at
> me.
S.D.: Note to self: If I ever get caught in some sort of bizzare fighting game-based world, I will *not* shout the names of attacks as I perform them. Warrior tradition be damned, it's cheesy.
> Hmph. Where'd he figure out how to do -that-?
ARL: Charlie.
> Maybe they teach
> it to everybody in the Joint Forces Task Group.
> I tried to jump over it,
ARL: Instead of doing something sensible, like ducking under it or employing the THIRD FREAKING DIMENSION!!
TBS: He can travel through space?
ARL: HE COULD HAVE *SIDE-STEPPED* IT, SNOT!!
TBS: Alright, alright...
> but a little too late; it caught me
> in the ankles like a clothesline and hurled me to the tarmac
> face-first. I hadn't quite roused enough neurons to get up after that
> when he thumped me in the middle of the back, which seized up my lungs
> for a second and hurt like hell. That was good; it made me mad, which
> is the surest way I know of to clear out the cobwebs.
RACE: ...for when Benjamin Hutchins gets mad, a startling transformation takes place...
> I scrambled
> sideways to my feet and launched my double kick at him, left, right,
> two solid hits, and it was -his- turn to sprawl.
> I was tempted to give him a good stomping while he was down
> there, but I try to avoid doing stuff like that to anyone who hasn't
> -really- ticked me off, and he hadn't earned it yet. So I let him get
> back to his feet in peace, and we more or less started over. The
> glint in his eyes had changed a little since we started. I'd like to
> think the new element I saw was respect, but it might also have been
> annoyance.
> He came at me with a double-punch-and-knee combination which I
> mostly avoided, taking the punches glancingly on my shoulders and
> blocking the knee completely;
ARL: ...and while we're on the subject-
RACE: We weren't on any subject.
ARL: We are now. What's with the whole "blocking" thing? Sure, you're raising your arms to keep from getting a knee to the face, but don't most forms of martial arts teach you anything about parrying attacks?
MMK: Gryph can't parry attacks.
ARL: Why?
MMK: He's in the wrong Groove.
ARL: ...
> while I was busy doing that, though, he
> caught me in the side of the head with an elbow that almost dropped me
> back to the ground. I stumbled and he followed up by sweeping my feet
> from under me; I fell face-first.
> Guile hadn't expected me to recover so fast, though; I caught
> myself on my hands and turned the facefault into a handspring, and
> brought my doubled fists down squarely on the top of his flattop
> hairdo with a resounding KLONK that smacked his teeth together.
TBS: Didn't muss his hair one bit, though.
> He
> stumbled back a step, and I helped him back with a flat-palm to the
> middle of his chest that knocked him over with a deep "whoof" of
> out-knocked wind.
> He was a quick recoverer, too; he caught himself on one hand
> and did a spiffy pommel-horse-like spin that was supposed to be a leg
> sweep, except I saw it in time and jumped over it. Then he was back
> on his feet, then off them again as he came at me in a curious jumping
> sideways spin kick that turned him, at one point, completely upside
> down.
MMK: Ha! Hair-boy messed up the Hienzan! Serves him right.
> I got tagged pretty hard by that one, but it was worth it to
> see him do it, the move was that neat. I wobbled back a step, and
> steadied my stance in time to see him hurl another Sonic Boom at me.
> I took one running step toward it, turned my back, then
> drifted left with the little dance-step I'd learned from Cammy to add
> to my spinning backfist,
RACE: Would it be left foot up, right foot right, left foot down, right foot left, left foot up by any chance?
> letting the Sonic Boom pass harmlessly by.
> The backfist connected hard with his jaw, and was flared, to boot; the
> impact lifted Guile completely off the ground and spun him halfway
> around before dropping him heavily to the pavement on his side. He
> got to his feet, but a lot less snappily than before. As I
> approached, he dropped to a crouch, and the little alarm bells in the
> back of my head started sounding.
> A little too late, I tried to Ler-slide inside his attack arc
> and get in a few face shots. Just as I did, he burst upward
> from his crouch into his trademark flash kick, doing a complete
> somersault and leaving a trail of dazzling energy behind his kicking
> foot.
ARL: ...he actually had to *charge* a Flash Kick in an non-video game
environment...
[ARL twitches.]
ARL: ...and it's *Charlie's* trademark Flash Kick...
[ARL twitches twice.]
> A few inches too far away, I was just at the perfect spot for
> him to unload all that energy into me. Time stuttered for a moment,
S.D. <Billy Madison>: T-t-t-t-today, junior!
RACE: I'm guessing he didn't clean the disk recently...
> and I came back to myself maybe a half-second later, landing on my
> back and turning completely over with the momentum. He tried to
> trounce me in the back again, but this time I rolled out of the way,
> grabbed his arm, locked my legs around it and threw him. Something
> made a nasty crack, he sprawled, and when we both got to our feet, his
> right arm was hanging. I'd dislocated his shoulder.
MMK: Either that or he was preparing-
GAVOK: Whoosh-WHACK!
MMK: ...a Snake Tamer.
> He didn't seem fazed by that; instead he moved in with a kick
> series, battering at my guard and driving me back, then breaking
> through my guard with one particularly good high kick. I heard the
> crack as my nose broke, and felt the warm gush of blood down the front
> of my formerly white shirt.
MMK <Mankind>: And I realized, I LIKE THIS!
> Shaking the flashing lights out of my
> vision and swallowing the pain,
MMK <Gryphon>: Mmmm... bitter...
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Yummy pain!
[He pulls out a box of tacks and empties into his mouth.]
GAVOK <Gryphon>: It's the breakfast of champions!
>I tried to counter with a backfist,
> but miscalculated his position and swung past him. As I missed, Guile
> tried to get a grip on me, the better to throw me, but I dug in my
> feet (and my Ler) and stopped, then used an elbow strike to break his
> one-handed grip. I spun inside his guard, bringing one knee up under
> his chin, and WHACK he was going up, over, and crashing to the ground
> on his back.
> He brought up his feet, flexed, and managed to get to
> something approaching a standing position in a sloppy kippup. I
> capitalized on this momentary lapse by landing another three-puncher;
> it seemed to snap him to, and he actually did manage to suplex me
> one-handed, which impressed me mightily. I was too busy being
> impressed to do very much about it, and ended up boosting the fiber in
> my diet with the floor.
> I knew it was starting to go bad,
RACE: Then you'd better throw that floor out instead of eating it, G-boy.
>but there wasn't much I
> could do about it. I hadn't come into this prepared to fight. I was
> tired, stiff from lurking around the desert for so long, hungry,
> thirsty and in the wrong time zone. My concentration was minimal and
> my energy level poor.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and my shoelaces were untied, and my nose was runny, and I really needed to use the little god-boy's room.
> Bah. I'm making excuses. No doubt Rose would tell me that if
> she were here. The bottom line is that I proceeded to get my ass
> completely, thoroughly, professionally kicked.
ARL: Okay, now lets try to contain our- oh, to hell with it.
ALL: YAY! GUILE!!
> With Guile, one
> mistake is all you get, and I'd made my second one. It fell apart
> quickly from there, and if I'd had time to think about it as
> everything went dark I'd have wondered whether I would wake up under
> guard in the base hospital, or just in the corner of a cell in the
> stockade.
GAVOK: In 1998, a street fighter was sent to prison by a military guy with a flat top for a crime he did kind of commit. This man promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Worchester underground. Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the G-Team.
[MMK and GAVOK stand up and start jogging around the theater.]
MMK <Gryphon>, GAVOK <Zoner>: Hike, hike, hike, hike, hike, hike...
>down the dusty tarmac, and
> if we had tried it in daylight, even discounting the detection aspect,
> we'd have been sweating like pigs. As it was, we kept up a brisk
> walking pace that kept the chill off, and had a pleasant evening
> stroll,
S.D.: Awww... how romantic.
RACE <Gryphon>: I'm a self-important Godboy who enjoys long walks along dusty tarmacs in the dead of the night...
>if you disregard the nerve-shattering tension.
ARL <Gryphon>: We're going to miss Sanford and Son!
> It took us
> half an hour to reach the man door at the back of Building 19,
GAVOK <singing>: Make a belch and turn the nob! Open it and be a slob! Iiiiiiiit's the Man Door!
> and a
> minute ten for Meg to pick the cheap padlock in the dark.
> The hangar was dimly lit and smelled of dust, metal and stale
> kerosene,
MMK: Simon and Garfunkle were going to sing a song about it, but "rosemary" sounded better.
> and though it was enormous, it was entirely dominated by a
> single item.
> Unlike Zoner, I had never heard of the Bionic Six before
> meeting Meg. Living a sheltered life in the woods of Maine,
RACE: --raised by wild monkeys--
>not often
> watching the news, isolated from all but the most pervasive marketing
> efforts (hey, we missed 'Robotech', too), I'd never seen a picture of
> Sky Dancer, which, I think, made seeing the real aircraft there in
> front of me all the more impressive.
> It rather resembled a Concorde SST, though a bit blockier. I
> don't know how big a Concorde is, so I couldn't make a guess as to
> relative scale - I'm lousy at judging that kind of thing by eye
> anyway. It was, anyway, a big plane, longer than the Prince of
> Thebes, although with faster and less spacious lines. We did a slow
> walkaround, silently taking in the aircraft's graceful, sweeping
> lines, while Zoner's practiced eye examined the control surfaces and
> the ship in general for airworthiness. At length, after a complete
> lap around the plane, we stopped underneath the rather tall landing
> gear, near the nose.
> "Think you can get the belly ramp open?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "If they didn't change the security codes, I should be able
> to," she replied. She pushed back the sleeve of her uniform jacket -
> that wrist computer was back - and tapped a couple of keys. Then she
> frowned thoughtfully at the display for a moment, brightened, and
> tapped a few more.
S.D. <Meg>: It erased my FreeCell scores.
> Sky Dancer thought about it for a moment, and then the ramp
> began to descend. Zoner grinned, took off his uniform jacket,
> loosened his tie, and started up the ramp with Meg right after him. I
> followed, and stood near the back of the flight deck as Zoner strapped
> himself into the pilot's seat and Meg took co-pilot. I wasn't miffed;
> she knew the aircraft a hell of a lot better than me or Zoner, so the
> seating arrangement made sense.
ARL: So why in hell didn't Meg take the pilot's seat?
>I busied myself by finding a storage
> locker and tucking my tiki mask into it.
MMK: Tucking the tiki? Hey, that sounds pretty cool! Say it with me, Shady! Tucking the TIKI!!
S.D.: ...leave me out of your twisted mind games, Knight...
> She gave him a quick run-down of the controls as she
> remembered them, and Zoner's instincts took care of the rest.
> "This is a good instrument layout," he remarked. "Very
> intuitive, everything's well-marked and easy to reach. Ahead of its
> time."
> "Everything about us was ahead of its time," Meg replied, a
> bit wistfully.
> Zoner called up a full diagnostic on the center video display
> unit. "Looks like they stored her ready to run. Good, I was half
> afraid they'd have formally mothballed her."
> "We didn't have a support staff," Meg explained, "so they
> built her to be self-maintaining. Automated systems keep her ready to
> fly under pretty much any conditions."
> "Amazing," said Zoner. "Howard Hughes would've loved that
> system."
MMK: What was that about "Amazing" and "Howard"?
> "I think he invented it," said Meg. "I know he was on the
> project... " She looked momentarily alarmed, then sheepish. "Uh, you
> weren't supposed to hear that."
> "My lips," said Zoner with a smirk, "are sealed. Guess it's
> time to see if she'll start up."
> "Shouldn't we open the hangar doors?" I wondered.
> "Hmm... y'know, that might be a good idea," Zoner replied.
> "Yeah... I'm new at this whole aeronautics thing, but I kinda
> suspected that would be a useful thing to do."
ARL: God, can't he go for *five minutes* without being smarmy?
TBS: No. But that's what makes him so loveable!
[TBS giggles in a disturbingly high-pitched voice. ALL eye him warily.]
> I went back down the
> ramp and surveyed the huge door at the front of the hangar, hoping
> like hell I wouldn't have to open it by hand with a chain-fall or
> something equally obnoxious. But no, there was the power actuator
> control, in the corner - a typical industrial-green metal box with a
> green button and a red button.
TBS <announcer>: The red CANDY LIKE button! Will he hold out? Can he hold out?
GAVOK <Stimpy>: NO I CAN'T!
> I hit the green button a half-second before I noticed the
> security keypad in the shadows next to it, and a howling alarm
> promptly filled the hangar.
> "Ahh, shit!" is a fair summation of my reaction.
> I ran back up the ramp.
> "What the hell happened?" Zoner asked.
> "I fucked up," I replied. "The damn door control has a
> security keypad next to it and I didn't see it until it was too late."
> "Shit!" Zoner growled, his fingers flying over the controls.
MMK <fingers>: WHOOSH!
> "Well, let's hope she's ready to roll in a hurry. Think you can get
> that door open?"
> "I'll try," I replied, and ran back to the control. There
> wasn't time to be clever with it, so I grabbed the conduit running
> down the wall and into the keypad box and yanked it off. The wires
> sparked a bit,
S.D.: Frying Gryphon where he stood with 50,000 volts of electricity?
>graciously identifying the live lead for me.
[S.D. snaps her fingers.]
>I took it
> and its mate by the insulation, jammed them together, then hit the
> green button again and hoped.
RACE <Gryphon>: Please let Dr. Sam Beckett find his way home!
> Another siren joined its voice to the first, and a red
> strobing light filled the hangar as the door began to open. Still
> holding the leads together, I looked around the corner as the door
> swung up. A few hundred yards down the flightline, I could see
> headlights swerving out of the Building 9 garage, heading this way. I
> turned back and watched the door. Behind me, Sky Dancer's engines
> rumbled to life, and her flashing marker lights and whining engines
> added to the visual and aural cacophony.
> Zoner slid one of the cockpit windows back - a feature not to
> be found on the Concorde, I'd guess - and hollered, "That's good, we
> can clear it now!"
> I let go of the leads - and to my dismay, the door started
> closing again.
> "Ahh, shit!" I repeated, and pushed them back together.
> "What's wrong?" Zoner cried.
> "The goddamn door won't stay open unless I hold the leads!" I
> shouted back. "Go on, get going! I'll find my own way out!"
ARL: So he's going to sneak *out* of Area 51.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...a very high-security location.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...which is currently on full alert.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...on foot.
TBS: Yup.
ARL: ...and you're not paying attention.
TBS: Sure I am, Jak.
ARL: Excuse me?
TBS: I said- Oh! Right, sorry Arl.
RACE: Have you been seeing other compulsive nitpickers behind Arly's back, Snot?
> "Are you sure?" he replied.
> "Look, if you hang around, we'll -all- get caught, now get
> moving!"
MMK <Gryphon>: Besides... <Wolfgang> that's exactly as I planned it!
[RACE nearly chokes on his soda. ARL blinks.]
GAVOK: Retro *rules*!
MMK: Yeah, it does!
[MMK and GAVOK high-five.]
RACE: You were waiting for another Hutchins 'fic to appear just so you could use that line, weren't you?
MMK <^_^ing>: Mmmmmaybe.
TBS: Just when you thought it was safe, old catchphrases from ages long past sneak up on you like an angry midget wielding a fish.
[TBS nods sagely.]
> He looked at me for a long second, then nodded and closed the
> window. Sky Dancer's engines spooled up from a whine to a shriek, and
> she eased out of her place, rolling out onto the tarmac.
> The second her tail was clear, I let go of the leads and ran
> like hell for the other end of the hangar. There were a few crates
> lying around the periphery of the space that had once held Sky Dancer,
> but nothing big enough to hide among. Under the howl of the alarm I
> could hear the sirens of the approaching security vehicles, the squeal
> of tires on tarmac as they stopped outside. The door slammed down.
MMK <Door>: Dominos!
> One piece of good fortune, anyway - they probably wouldn't be able to
> open that one from outside now.
> I looked at the door we came in through, then immediately
> disregarded it. Air Police, or worse,
ARL: Joan Rivers.
GAVOK: TWO Air Police!
> would be coming through that
> door any second now. Struggling to keep calm, I looked around for
> another escape. Outside, I heard gunfire, then the roar of Sky
> Dancer's engines as Zoner threw in the afterburners and took off. It
> occurred to me that they probably didn't know anyone had been left
> behind.
> Then I spotted it - a manhole, no, more like a storm drain
> grate, set in the middle of the hangar floor. It must have been put
> there to provide drainage in case aircraft were washed inside the
> hangar or some such. I didn't know if it would offer an escape route,
> but at the very least, if I could get it open, it represented a place
> to hide. I knew there was no way it ran off base.
S.D.: Well, you snuck into a military base, went through a room full of crates... may as well try it. You've hit every other point on the first-person shooter cliche checklist...
> That only worked
> in the movies, in real life they never did something as stupid as
> running a drain tunnel to the outside world.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But then I remembered, "I write this!" and teleported to Disney World.
> But I figured at least
> it would give me a lead on the APs, and some distance from ground
> zero.
> I was lifting the grate out of place when the door we came in
> through opened, but only one man came in. To my shock, it was even a
> man I recognized, and as he spotted me, the same startled recognition
> flowered in his own eyes.
> Captain William F. Guile, USAF.
LOONS: Hi, Bucky!
> Former test pilot, now a sort
> of free-range security and intelligence agent attached to the Joint
> Special Forces Command. Charlie Nash's best friend - and a fellow
> holder of the World Warrior ranking in the World Circuit Martial Arts
> Tournament Series. We'd met a couple of times on the circuit, fought
> once back before either of us was a World Warrior. He won.
MMK <Gryphon>: ...I let him.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...with both hands tied behind my back.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...while I had the German flu.
> We stood there regarding each other for a few seconds, trying
> to figure out what to do next;
RACE <Guile, thinking>: Is my fly open?
TBS <Gryphon, thinking>: Should I tell him his fly is open?
> then Guile turned, leaned out of the
> doorway, and told someone I couldn't see that the hangar was deserted
> and that he'd secure it himself. Then he stepped back inside, closed
> the door, set the inside bolt lock, cracked a sardonic grin and spoke.
> What he said wasn't exactly comforting.
TBS <Guile>: They aren't releasing Rob Zombie's Night of a Thousand Corpses. Sorry.
> "Well, well," he said. "You, my friend, are in serious
> trouble."
MMK <Guile>: Go to your room!
> "Really."
TBS <Guile>: No! Not really!
[ALL laugh in a completely fake manner for a few seconds, then stop abruptly.]
> "Really," he replied. "I've suspected you and Zoner weren't
> all some of our intel people think you are ever since I found out you
> use the same style as M. Bison. Tell me, was it on his orders that
> you came here to steal Sky Dancer?"
> "Don't be an idiot," I replied scornfully. "I've never even
> -met- M. Bison, and if I did I'd do my damnedest to take him down.
> We're students of the same master,
ARL: Which is exactly why your fighting style is so similar to Rose's and Bison's. Right.
> but we're not on the same path."
> "So why is it you're the one who's breached security at one of
> the most tightly guarded places in the United States? And by
> impersonating an officer, too. That's a serious offense in and of
> itself."
> I shook my head. "This is above your level, Guile.
S.D. <Gryphon>: We're doing it in Zoner's pursuit of [NOOKIE]. [NOOKIE] rules all.
> It's not
> your job to interfere with an operation you don't need to know about."
> "It -is- my job to enforce the security of this base," replied
> Guile evenly.
RACE: So he replies in the same style as the top of his hair.
> "I don't care what you claim you're up to, it can't be
> legitimate if it involves breaking into and out of Area 51."
> "You've got a lot of repressed feelings, don't you, Guile?" I
> observed. "Must be what keeps your hair up."
> "You aren't funny, bud," replied Guile, flat and humorless as
> always.
ARL: It's like he's *reading my mind.*
> I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, though. He was
> wavering... I just had to find the right key.
> I sighed. "Don't be such a hardass, Guile! This thing is
> way over your bushy head, and if you take me in, when the paper
> chase is over the only fingers pointing anywhere will be pointing at
> -you-."
ARL: How, exactly? The entire thing is set up so that it winds back on itself. Ignoring that, you're *still* a civilian that impersonated an officer to sneak into a top-secret military base.
> "It's my job," he repeated, firmer.
> "Ahh," I replied, gesturing dismissively. "Do me a favor.
> Show a fellow World Warrior some professional courtesy."
> Guile snorted. "Some World Warrior. You got into the bracket
> by beating up on a teenage girl."
> "You've obviously never met Cammy," I replied. "And while
> we're on the subject, which of us was it that got his ass kicked by
> Chun Li last month?"
> Guile flushed angrily.
MMK <Guile>: Stupid turd! Go away! Crap, where's the plunger?
> "She's no girl," he said darkly. "I'm
> not 100% sure she's human."
> "You are -such- a paranoid," I replied. "What is she, then, a
> warrior android from the Hunan Galaxy?"
> "Forget it," Guile said. "I was trying to make a joke."
GAVOK <Cameron Poe>: Thanks for telling me.
> "Oh. Y'know, it would help you get that message across if you
> were to smile."
> "I'm on duty," replied Guile stolidly.
> "Of course." I sighed. "Look, I'm not going to just let you
> take me in. I've got things to do, and they don't include spending
> time in the cooler at Area 51. Frankly, the sooner I'm out of this
> desert the happier I'll be."
> "You don't have any choice. You're under arrest."
GAVOK <Gryphon>: But I don't like that! I prefer Oh! My Goddess!"
[OTHERS groan.]
> I rolled my eyes. "All right, fine. If you want to handle
> this like we're back in fifth grade, fine."
ARL <Gryphon>: You and your "federal laws" and your "fraud" and your "breaking and entering"... well I'll have you know...
> I took off my uniform
> jacket and threw it aside, loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and
MMK <Gryphon>: ...tucked my Tiki.
> stepped toward Guile, settling into a ready stance. He narrowed his
> eyes at me and readied himself as well.
> On the occasions I'd had to watch him fight, I'd formed the
> opinion that Guile's style was mainly generic Special Forces training,
ARL: Because being in the Special Forces teaches you how to toss around fireballs and leap several feet into the air with flying kicks.
> with a smattering of what looked like Muay Thai he'd picked up while
> stationed out that way - that is to say, lots of knee and elbow
> attacks, most of them cheap shots. He was faster than me, but that's
> not all that uncommon.
MMK: Being a cube and all.
> I was pretty confident I could handle him, as
> long as I stayed clear of his elbows.
> He sidled toward me, fists up in a boxing guard, shoulders
> rolling, and shot a jab at my face; I weaved a bit to the left and
> launched a snap kick at his knees. It didn't do much damage, but it
> pushed him back a little bit; undaunted, he used the extra room for a
> roundhouse kick. I blocked it with a flared forearm, feinted, and
> swung into a three-punch combo, left jab-right hook-left uppercut,
> unloading the flare in my left fist on the uppercut. All three
> landed, and Guile stumbled back a step.
> "SONIC - BOOM!" he shouted, bringing his fists across in front
> of him in a sweeping crossover that
MMK: --spanned all of the company's May titles.
>threw a dazzling arc of energy at
> me.
S.D.: Note to self: If I ever get caught in some sort of bizzare fighting game-based world, I will *not* shout the names of attacks as I perform them. Warrior tradition be damned, it's cheesy.
> Hmph. Where'd he figure out how to do -that-?
ARL: Charlie.
> Maybe they teach
> it to everybody in the Joint Forces Task Group.
> I tried to jump over it,
ARL: Instead of doing something sensible, like ducking under it or employing the THIRD FREAKING DIMENSION!!
TBS: He can travel through space?
ARL: HE COULD HAVE *SIDE-STEPPED* IT, SNOT!!
TBS: Okay, okay...
> but a little too late; it caught me
> in the ankles like a clothesline and hurled me to the tarmac
> face-first. I hadn't quite roused enough neurons to get up after that
> when he thumped me in the middle of the back, which seized up my lungs
> for a second and hurt like hell. That was good; it made me mad, which
> is the surest way I know of to clear out the cobwebs.
RACE: ...for when Benjamin Hutchins gets mad, a startling transformation takes place...
> I scrambled
> sideways to my feet and launched my double kick at him, left, right,
> two solid hits, and it was -his- turn to sprawl.
> I was tempted to give him a good stomping while he was down
> there, but I try to avoid doing stuff like that to anyone who hasn't
> -really- ticked me off, and he hadn't earned it yet. So I let him get
> back to his feet in peace, and we more or less started over. The
> glint in his eyes had changed a little since we started. I'd like to
> think the new element I saw was respect, but it might also have been
> annoyance.
> He came at me with a double-punch-and-knee combination which I
> mostly avoided, taking the punches glancingly on my shoulders and
> blocking the knee completely;
ARL: ...and while we're on the subject-
RACE: We weren't on any subject.
ARL: We are now. What's with the whole "blocking" thing? Sure, you're raising your arms to keep from getting a knee to the face, but don't most forms of martial arts teach you anything about parrying attacks?
MMK: Gryph can't parry attacks.
ARL: Why?
MMK: He's in the wrong Groove.
ARL: ...
> while I was busy doing that, though, he
> caught me in the side of the head with an elbow that almost dropped me
> back to the ground. I stumbled and he followed up by sweeping my feet
> from under me; I fell face-first.
> Guile hadn't expected me to recover so fast, though; I caught
> myself on my hands and turned the facefault into a handspring, and
> brought my doubled fists down squarely on the top of his flattop
> hairdo with a resounding KLONK that smacked his teeth together.
TBS: Didn't muss his hair one bit, though.
> He
> stumbled back a step, and I helped him back with a flat-palm to the
> middle of his chest that knocked him over with a deep "whoof" of
> out-knocked wind.
> He was a quick recoverer, too; he caught himself on one hand
> and did a spiffy pommel-horse-like spin that was supposed to be a leg
> sweep, except I saw it in time and jumped over it. Then he was back
> on his feet, then off them again as he came at me in a curious jumping
> sideways spin kick that turned him, at one point, completely upside
> down.
MMK: Ha! Hair-boy messed up the Hienzan! Serves him right.
> I got tagged pretty hard by that one, but it was worth it to
> see him do it, the move was that neat. I wobbled back a step, and
> steadied my stance in time to see him hurl another Sonic Boom at me.
> I took one running step toward it, turned my back, then
> drifted left with the little dance-step I'd learned from Cammy to add
> to my spinning backfist,
RACE: Would it be left foot up, right foot right, left foot down, right foot left, left foot up by any chance?
> letting the Sonic Boom pass harmlessly by.
> The backfist connected hard with his jaw, and was flared, to boot; the
> impact lifted Guile completely off the ground and spun him halfway
> around before dropping him heavily to the pavement on his side. He
> got to his feet, but a lot less snappily than before. As I
> approached, he dropped to a crouch, and the little alarm bells in the
> back of my head started sounding.
> A little too late, I tried to Ler-slide inside his attack arc
> and get in a few face shots. Just as I did, he burst upward
> from his crouch into his trademark flash kick, doing a complete
> somersault and leaving a trail of dazzling energy behind his kicking
> foot.
ARL: ...he actually had to *charge* a Flash Kick in an non-video game environment...
[ARL twitches.]
ARL: ...and it's *Charlie's* trademark Flash Kick...
[ARL twitches twice.]
> A few inches too far away, I was just at the perfect spot for
> him to unload all that energy into me. Time stuttered for a moment,
S.D. <Billy Madison>: T-t-t-t-today, junior!
RACE: I'm guessing he didn't clean the disk recently...
> and I came back to myself maybe a half-second later, landing on my
> back and turning completely over with the momentum. He tried to
> trounce me in the back again, but this time I rolled out of the way,
> grabbed his arm, locked my legs around it and threw him. Something
> made a nasty crack, he sprawled, and when we both got to our feet, his
> right arm was hanging. I'd dislocated his shoulder.
MMK: Either that or he was preparing-
GAVOK: Whoosh-WHACK!
MMK: ...a Snake Tamer.
> He didn't seem fazed by that; instead he moved in with a kick
> series, battering at my guard and driving me back, then breaking
> through my guard with one particularly good high kick. I heard the
> crack as my nose broke, and felt the warm gush of blood down the front
> of my formerly white shirt.
MMK <Mankind>: And I realized, I LIKE THIS!
> Shaking the flashing lights out of my
> vision and swallowing the pain,
MMK <Gryphon>: Mmmm... bitter...
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Yummy pain!
[He pulls out a box of tacks and empties it into his mouth.]
GAVOK <Gryphon, muffled>: It's the breakfast of champions!
>I tried to counter with a backfist,
> but miscalculated his position and swung past him. As I missed, Guile
> tried to get a grip on me, the better to throw me, but I dug in my
> feet (and my Ler) and stopped, then used an elbow strike to break his
> one-handed grip. I spun inside his guard, bringing one knee up under
> his chin, and WHACK he was going up, over, and crashing to the ground
> on his back.
> He brought up his feet, flexed, and managed to get to
> something approaching a standing position in a sloppy kippup. I
> capitalized on this momentary lapse by landing another three-puncher;
> it seemed to snap him to, and he actually did manage to suplex me
> one-handed, which impressed me mightily. I was too busy being
> impressed to do very much about it, and ended up boosting the fiber in
> my diet with the floor.
> I knew it was starting to go bad,
RACE: Then you'd better throw that floor out instead of eating it, G-boy.
>but there wasn't much I
> could do about it. I hadn't come into this prepared to fight. I was
> tired, stiff from lurking around the desert for so long, hungry,
> thirsty and in the wrong time zone. My concentration was minimal and
> my energy level poor.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and my shoelaces were untied, and my nose was runny, and I really needed to use the little god-boy's room.
> Bah. I'm making excuses. No doubt Rose would tell me that if
> she were here. The bottom line is that I proceeded to get my ass
> completely, thoroughly, professionally kicked.
ARL: Okay, now lets try to contain our- oh, to hell with it.
ALL: YAY! GUILE!!
> With Guile, one
> mistake is all you get, and I'd made my second one. It fell apart
> quickly from there, and if I'd had time to think about it as
> everything went dark I'd have wondered whether I would wake up under
> guard in the base hospital, or just in the corner of a cell in the
> stockade.
GAVOK: In 1998, a street fighter was sent to prison by a military guy with a flat top for a crime he did kind of commit. This man promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Worchester underground. Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the G-Team.
Anyway, this is not the main reason for mailing you again. It is thus; I
was browsing through the analysis looking for updates, and chanced upon
your personal site link! Shocking, isn't it. Little did I know the
horrors that awaited me in the Mystery Octagon Theater. I'd just like to
say, I hold you directly responsible for making me read the rancid pile of
excrement that was Street Fighter vs Mortal Kombat. It reduces me to tears
when I think of how I could have spent the hours it took me to read that.
Like sleeping, for example. And then there was the 'erotica' that was
Homestrike. I am scarred for life. Still, there was some pretty funny
shit you guys inserted in between the perversion there :)
I've never seen Mystery Science Theater, but it sounds pretty funny :)
========
It's amazing how a lot of the feedback seems to take the form of "you son of a bitch, you *made* me read that!" letters.
Chapter 4C: reading this may result in your abduction.
by
>
> G
> Groom Dry Lake Air Force Base. The United States Air Force
> Advanced Technology Research and Testing Center.
> Area 51.
> Zoner, Meg and I sat in an idling Humvee less than a mile from
> the gates of the most restricted place in the United States of America
> - possibly the world. We wore freshly laundered, nicely pressed,
> completely fake United States Air Force uniforms, with freshly minted,
> nicely laid out, completely fake United States Air Force ID tags. If
> traced, those would be connected to freshly entered, nicely formatted,
> completely fake entries in the USAF personnel computers. Along with
> long, distinguished, and completely fake service records.
> No problem.
> "Are you sure our IDs are OK?" I asked Zoner as we approached
> the gates.
> "Will you relax?" he replied. "We're not applying for a
> -job-, we're just here to steal some stuff."
> "Of course. Silly me." He had a point, though. With us
> coming in as visitors, the guards at the fence would assume the deep
> digging had already been done by the people who issued us the IDs and
> travel plans in the first place.
> Or at least, that was the theory.
> "Here we go... I hope to Christ this works," Zoner muttered as
> we drove up to the gatehouse. Then, sliding down the window, he put
> on his most serious military face and returned the guard's salute, as
> did Meg and I.
> Guards circled the Humvee as the man in the booth scanned our
> IDs. One of them probed under the Humvee with a mirror. I reminded
> myself not to grin at the one who was looking in the side window at
> me. I don't think I looked nervous; in the course of adventuring with
> Zoner I've gotten pretty good at covering that.
> "Everything checks out, Major Zorn," said the guard, handing
> Zoner back the passes. "Welcome to Groom Lake."
> "Thank you, Lieutenant," said Zoner, punctuating his words
> with a brisk nod. The guards got out of our way and we drove onto the
> base unimpeded.
> "Piece of cake," said Meg.
> "Yeah, Gryph and I have gotten into and out of places a lot
> more heavily guarded than this," Zoner replied.
> "We have?" I asked, eyeing the sixteen-foot perimeter fence
> and fortified buildings.
> "Oh, yeah," said Zoner. "Remember the Nonsecuadoran Embassy
> in Brasilia?"
> I considered it. "I guess that might have been more -densely-
> guarded," I allowed.
> "Anyway, it's time to see if that map I pulled off the Milnet
> is worth anything. Which building does it say the Bionic Six gear is
> in?"
> I pulled the printout from the inside pocket of my Air Force
> uniform jacket, unfolded it, and perused, then chuckled. "You're
> gonna love this. It's in Building 19."
> Zoner chuckled. "You're right, I love it," he said, making a
> left-hand turn and following the numbered buildings.
> We left the Humvee parked in front of Building 10 and walked
> the rest of the way, three career officers, a major and two captains,
> striding purposefully in a tight triangle formation. We looked
> neither right nor left. There were no soldiers walking round in this
> part of the base, anyway, which was just as well, since I was half
> convinced that I had NOT A REAL OFFICER painted in glowing orange
> letters on my back. I wished, not for the first time, that we were
> ripping off the Army; Air Force uniforms are made of a dreadful blue
> polyester blend. I hate the way synthetic dress slacks feel, to say
> nothing of the way they ride up.
> Buildings 1-12 were low, gray-sided buildings, office blocks
> and barracks, by the look of them. 13 on were much larger, corrugated
> aluminum structures - Butler buildings, part hangar, part warehouse.
> They reminded me of the decommissioned Nike missile hangars at Presque
> Isle Regional Airport in northern Maine, where my aunt's common-law
> husband kept his crop duster. The differences were primarily matters
> of scale. We didn't go all the way down to Building 19, though; our
> fake orders gave us no reason to go into the super-classified section
> that began at Building 15. Instead, we stopped at Building 12. The
> late afternoon sun cast long shadows of the buildings and colored the
> desert in bright oranges and pinks, and with no personnel in evidence
> outside the buildings, the base looked deserted.
> "Now what?" Meg asked Zoner quietly.
> "Now," replied Zoner, "we hide and wait for dark."
> There are few activities more tedious than hiding behind a
> Dumpster for two hours waiting for nightfall to complete itself.
> After about fifteen minutes, we started getting very bored. Finally,
> we seemed to reach a silent consensus, mutually said "the hell with
> it," and started looking for a way to get into Building 13, just to
> see what was in there.
> We left our hiding place, the lapels of our uniform jackets
> Velcroed over one another to cover the white of our shirts (an idea
> Zoner got from the sniper scene in "The Living Daylights", no doubt).
> A short, tension-filled scramble across the open alleyway separating
> the smaller buildings from the hangars brought us to the man door at
> the back corner of Building 13.
> "Hm," Zoner murmured, lifting the padlock that secured the
> door in the palm of his hand and peering at it. "I'd expected a
> slightly more sophisticated security system."
> "Don't tell me you didn't bring a lockpick."
> "Um... just my electronic lock decoder. I never thought
> they'd use something this primitive... "
> Meg sighed. "Allow me," she said, pushing Zoner gently out of
> the way and delving into the lock with the toothpick and tweezers from
> a Swiss Army knife. As she worked at it, she muttered wryly,
> "No-brand lock, probably cost the Defense Department sixty-five
> hundred dollars. It's just as well... Master locks are a pain in
> the... "
> Click!
> "There."
> "Where'd you learn to pick locks?" Zoner asked, a note of
> appreciation in his voice.
> Meg shrugged. "Richard Feynman's autobiography," she replied,
> handing him the padlock and pushing the door open. "I'm hell on
> safes, too."
> Zoner just stood and looked at the space where she'd been
> standing for a few seconds, a disbelieving look on his face; then he
> turned to me, grinned, and said,
> "I am -definitely- in love."
> "How nice for you," I replied, stepping into the doorway
> myself. "Coming in or staying out?"
> The interior of Building 13 was a dimly-lit confusion of
> cardboard boxes, wooden crates, and mysterious shapes underneath
> tarpaulins. None of it was all that interesting, though; most of it
> seemed to be files, which might reveal the secrets of the universe or
> the identities of the conspirators who really control the world, but
> were more likely to be commissary reports from 1974. We kept moving
> down the line, hopping surreptitiously from building to building.
> Building 14 was more of the same.
> We expected when we got to Building 15, where we'd heard the
> super-highly-classified section of the warehousing area began, we
> would be confronted with an elaborate and sophisticated security
> system, which we would then have to work out some way of getting
> past. Instead, all we found was another slightly rusty no-brand
> padlock.
> "Y'know, for such a highly-classified facility, there really
> isn't much security here at all," I mused as we slipped into Building
> 15.
> "Yeah," Meg agreed. "I was expecting all kinds of brightly
> lit tile corridors, power doors, guards in servo armor... all the
> stuff we used to have in the really secure parts of OSI bases. This
> is just... like a regular Air Force base's junk storage."
> "Maybe they don't think anybody would ever get this far," said
> Zoner. "Or maybe there's just nothing interesting here... "
> "I always figured all the good stuff was at Wright-Patterson
> anyway," Meg replied.
> "You'd think if this -was- hyper-classified national-security
> stuff, they'd at least file it a little bit more coherently," I said,
> crouching and squinting at the label on a crate. "Lot Number
> 19473... " I moved to the next one over. "... Lot Number 4921.
> Yeah. This is organized."
> Zoner tried the top of Lot Number 19473; it was hinged - the
> crate was more like a box - and he had no trouble opening it and
> peering inside.
> "Hmm. Bunch of advanced-looking rifles. Wonder if they'd
> notice if I took one... "
> We scattered around the hangar, opening crates, poking and
> prodding at stuff, and having a general ill-advised good old time
> acting like kids at an antique market, calling out our findings to
> each other.
> "Hey," said Meg, reaching into a small box and coming out with
> a gleaming item. "You guys know what this is?"
> I took my mini-MagLite out of my pocket and shined it at the
> item. It was a golden medallion about five inches across, with an
> off-center hole bearing an amber crystal.
> "Headpiece to the Staff of Ra," I said.
> Meg regarded it curiously. "Are you sure? It looks kind of
> like a Valley of Shadows medallion, except for the markings... "
> "Ark of the Covenant," said Zoner from halfway inside a large
> crate across the way.
> "Nope, it's the headpiece to the Staff of Ra," I said.
> "Oh," said Meg, putting it back.
> The first crate I tried myself was something of an
> anti-climax; though quite large, it was almost empty, and what was in
> it was a disappointingly pedestrian item. "Oh, whoop-de-do, a
> Mannlicher-Carcano rifle. How exciting."
> From behind me stereo voices chimed in "Lee Harvey Oswald -
> huh?!" Turning, I found Meg and Zoner, separated by about twenty
> feet, holding open crates which were brimming with what appeared to be
> fog.
> Zoner looked at the side of his crate. "Lot 1138-A."
> Meg checked hers. "Lot 1138-C."
> "What happened to B?"
> A quick search of the area failed to turn up Lot 1138-B. So,
> with a collective shrug, we moved on.
> "Hey," Zoner's voice called out from some distant corner,
> "Hitler's brain!"
> Shortly thereafter I had opportunity to add, "Here's the rest
> of him... "
> "Ewww!" Meg remarked. "Hey, does anyone know what 'Aruchot'
> means?"
> Meg was holding an ancient, dusty book with a plastic embosser
> label bearing this single word affixed to the cover.
> "No idea," Zoner remarked. I shrugged.
> After long moments of finding nothing but file folders and
> outdated manuals, Zoner called Meg and me over.
> "Hey, you guys have -got- to see this."
> Inside a large crate, packed in straw, was a slab of obviously
> ancient sandstone. Clearly visible in the center of the stone was the
> imprint of a large, three-toed, reptilian foot. Just off to one side
> was another imprint, clearly that of a running shoe.
> "I'd love to know the story behind this one."
> "So would I," Meg commented.
> "I bet it ends with someone getting sacked," I observed. "Or
> worse."
>
> MZ
> The anachronistic fossil was quite intriguing, but I doubted
> we'd ever figure out the story behind it. We went back to our
> haphazard exploring. I quickly discovered a crate of paperback novels
> entitled "Catch 23". I pocketed one for later reading. Meg
> discovered a crate labeled "Lot 49" - I advised her not to open it,
> just in case. Most intriguing was the crate labled "Lot 31416 Grails,
> Holy" (one of the few crates to be labeled with anything other than a
> lot number). Inside was a fairly standard moving pack full of what
> appeared to be about a dozen Holy Grails, all alike.
> "Uh, hey guys?" Ben's voice summoned us over.
> "What's up?"
> He gestured into the open end of the large crate he was
> standing before. Inside was a bed, a chemical toilet, a chair, a
> large stack of MREs, a water cooler, and a bank of computers. The bed
> looked recently slept in.
> "Who do you think lives here?" Ben asked.
> "I have no idea. But I doubt they're sanctioned by the base
> commander."
> "Well, maybe we should leave their stuff alone then," Meg
> suggested.
> "Good idea."
> Ben resealed the crate and we continued poking around. I
> checked my watch, amazingly an hour had gone by already. Exploring an
> old warehouse full of weird stuff made time go by a lot faster than
> crouching behind a dumpster. Of course, it also raised the
> possibility that we'd be caught (or worse), but that's life.
> I spent some time reconnoitering without finding anything of
> note, then I noticed a cool breeze coming from a large crate. I had
> to pry the front open, allowing clouds of billowing vapor to roll out
> across the floor. Inside was a large metal door with a display in the
> middle. Scraping away the frost I could just make out what it said.
> "Hey Ben! I don't know what this is, but this display says 0.001
> Kelvins!"
> "Whoa! Put it back, someone is saving it!"
> Seeing as I'd left my thermal undies back in Massachusetts, I
> decided not to follow the fabled feline, and resealed the crate.
> Suddenly, the warehouse was filled with the sound of wind
> howling through a yawning emptiness. A breeze plucked at my
> clothing. Wandering around the corner toward the noise, I found Meg
> staring blankly into an open crate, into which loose debris from the
> surrounding area was being sucked. As I watched, her uniform cap was
> sucked in as well. This was all quite fascinating, as the crate was
> about the size of a refrigerator box and stood clearly alone, some
> distance from the nearest wall.
> "Um, Meg, what's in there?"
> "nothing," she replied, her voice flat.
> "You mean it's empty?"
> "no... it's nothing."
> "Ah, staring into the abyss and all that. Well," I said,
> edging over to her, "why don't we just close that little box up then,
> shall we?"
> "ok."
> Quite deliberately -not- looking into the crate, I swung the
> lid closed. It got about halfway there before being grabbed by the
> wind and sucked shut with a jarring BANG, the latches falling into
> place automatically as it closed. Meg continued to stare blankly for
> just long enough for me to start to worry, before blinking and
> staggering back slightly. "Whoa, what was I doing? Hey, what's in
> this crate?" She reached for the latch.
> Quickly moving to block I replied. "Oh, it's nothing. Just
> an empty box. Why don't you check out one of those?"
> "Uh... OK." She moved off in another direction, shaking her
> head.
> While I stood their pondering the purpose of a box full of
> empty, I was interrupted by a cry of "Hey, neat!" from Ben. I found
> him holding a colorfully decorated tiki mask, complete with feather
> fringe.
> "What's with the mask?"
> "I don't know, but isn't it cool? I think it would look great
> on the wall in the den."
> "Look, the thing is probably cursed, or something. I don't
> think we need to be hanging anything we find here on our walls. I
> just pulled Meg away from a box full of /dev/null. I'm wary of
> bringing this stuff home."
> "Oh, but..."
> "Fine. I have my curse, you can have your curse. Enjoy."
> Anyway, my curse looked a lot better than the mask, nice though it
> was.
> "Hey Zoner - what the hell's Wumpa Fruit?" he wondered,
> examining the crate next to the one where he'd found the tiki mask.
> I just scowled.
> "Ok, just asking."
> We had barely scratched the surface of the warehouse
> contents. The place seemed much larger from the inside than it did
> from the outside, with long rows of crates in a bewildering range of
> sizes. I had just happened upon one large crate marked Props, Apollo
> 11, Misc" when Meg called out from near the door:
> "Hey guys, it's dark."
> Well, maybe I'd come back someday to check out the rest of
> this place. But right now it was time to go.
This message has been edited by OctagonTheater on Jul 19, 2002 8:44 PM
>
> G
> Groom Dry Lake Air Force Base. The United States Air Force
> Advanced Technology Research and Testing Center.
> Area 51.
[MMK slaps his hand on top of GAVOK's hat. GAVOK buzzes.]
MMK: What is a crappy arcade rail shooter?
> Zoner, Meg and I sat in an idling Humvee less than a mile from
> the gates of the most restricted place in the United States of America
> - possibly the world. We wore freshly laundered, nicely pressed,
> completely fake United States Air Force uniforms, with freshly minted,
> nicely laid out, completely fake United States Air Force ID tags. If
> traced, those would be connected to freshly entered, nicely formatted,
> completely fake entries in the USAF personnel computers. Along with
> long, distinguished, and completely fake service records.
> No problem.
> "Are you sure our IDs are OK?" I asked Zoner as we approached
> the gates.
> "Will you relax?" he replied. "We're not applying for a
> -job-, we're just here to steal some stuff."
> "Of course. Silly me." He had a point, though. With us
> coming in as visitors, the guards at the fence would assume the deep
> digging had already been done by the people who issued us the IDs and
> travel plans in the first place.
> Or at least, that was the theory.
> "Here we go... I hope to Christ this works," Zoner muttered as
> we drove up to the gatehouse. Then, sliding down the window, he put
> on his most serious military face and returned the guard's salute, as
> did Meg and I.
> Guards circled the Humvee as the man in the booth scanned our
> IDs. One of them probed under the Humvee with a mirror. I reminded
> myself not to grin at the one who was looking in the side window at
> me. I don't think I looked nervous; in the course of adventuring with
> Zoner I've gotten pretty good at covering that.
S.D. <Gryphon>: I'M NOT A SPY! Er, wait...
> "Everything checks out, Major Zorn," said the guard, handing
> Zoner back the passes. "Welcome to Groom Lake."
> "Thank you, Lieutenant," said Zoner, punctuating his words
> with a brisk nod. The guards got out of our way and we drove onto the
> base unimpeded.
> "Piece of cake," said Meg.
> "Yeah, Gryph and I have gotten into and out of places a lot
> more heavily guarded than this," Zoner replied.
> "We have?" I asked, eyeing the sixteen-foot perimeter fence
> and fortified buildings.
> "Oh, yeah," said Zoner. "Remember the Nonsecuadoran Embassy
> in Brasilia?"
> I considered it. "I guess that might have been more -densely-
> guarded," I allowed.
> "Anyway, it's time to see if that map I pulled off the Milnet
> is worth anything. Which building does it say the Bionic Six gear is
> in?"
> I pulled the printout from the inside pocket of my Air Force
> uniform jacket, unfolded it, and perused, then chuckled. "You're
> gonna love this. It's in Building 19."
> Zoner chuckled. "You're right, I love it," he said, making a
> left-hand turn and following the numbered buildings.
ARL: That's great. So what the hell does it mean?
MMK: Wise man say, "obscurity is good for you!"
ARL: MMK, *you* said that.
MMK: Really?
ARL: Yes.
MMK: Well, fancy that.
[He ^_^s]
> We left the Humvee parked in front of Building 10 and walked
> the rest of the way, three career officers, a major and two captains,
> striding purposefully in a tight triangle formation. We looked
> neither right nor left. There were no soldiers walking round in this
> part of the base, anyway, which was just as well, since I was half
> convinced that I had NOT A REAL OFFICER painted in glowing orange
> letters on my back.
TBS: You do, actually. Zoner's got a weird sense of humor...
> I wished, not for the first time, that we were
> ripping off the Army; Air Force uniforms are made of a dreadful blue
> polyester blend. I hate the way synthetic dress slacks feel, to say
> nothing of the way they ride up.
RACE: I really didn't need to know that...
MMK <Gryphon>: ...and my *thong*... man, that was *killing* me! It's like someone took a rope and-
RACE: SHUT! *UP!!*
> Buildings 1-12 were low, gray-sided buildings, office blocks
> and barracks, by the look of them. 13 on were much larger, corrugated
> aluminum structures - Butler buildings, part hangar, part warehouse.
> They reminded me of the decommissioned Nike missile hangars at Presque
> Isle Regional Airport in northern Maine, where my aunt's common-law
> husband kept his crop duster.
TBS: Warrior's Legacy: All filler, no killer!
> The differences were primarily matters
> of scale. We didn't go all the way down to Building 19, though; our
> fake orders gave us no reason to go into the super-classified section
> that began at Building 15. Instead, we stopped at Building 12. The
> late afternoon sun cast long shadows of the buildings and colored the
> desert in bright oranges and pinks, and with no personnel in evidence
> outside the buildings, the base looked deserted.
> "Now what?" Meg asked Zoner quietly.
> "Now," replied Zoner, "we hide and wait for dark."
> There are few activities more tedious than hiding behind a
> Dumpster for two hours waiting for nightfall to complete itself.
> After about fifteen minutes, we started getting very bored. Finally,
> we seemed to reach a silent consensus, mutually said "the hell with
> it," and started looking for a way to get into Building 13, just to
> see what was in there.
RACE <Zoner>: I'm bored.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wanna sneak into a secured building on a top-secret military base?
RACE <Zoner>: ...yeah, might as well.
> We left our hiding place, the lapels of our uniform jackets
> Velcroed over one another to cover the white of our shirts (an idea
> Zoner got from the sniper scene in "The Living Daylights", no doubt).
> A short, tension-filled scramble across the open alleyway separating
> the smaller buildings from the hangars brought us to the man door at
> the back corner of Building 13.
> "Hm," Zoner murmured, lifting the padlock that secured the
> door in the palm of his hand and peering at it. "I'd expected a
> slightly more sophisticated security system."
GAVOK: You'll change your tune when that lock turns into a FIFTEEN-FOOT TALL ROBOT OF DEATH!!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Or not. Locks are tricky like that.
> "Don't tell me you didn't bring a lockpick."
> "Um... just my electronic lock decoder. I never thought
> they'd use something this primitive... "
ARL: Most likely because they didn't think that anyone would try to pull a stunt like this...
> Meg sighed. "Allow me," she said, pushing Zoner gently out of
> the way and delving into the lock with the toothpick and tweezers from
> a Swiss Army knife. As she worked at it, she muttered wryly,
> "No-brand lock, probably cost the Defense Department sixty-five
> hundred dollars. It's just as well... Master locks are a pain in
> the... "
> Click!
> "There."
> "Where'd you learn to pick locks?" Zoner asked, a note of
> appreciation in his voice.
> Meg shrugged. "Richard Feynman's autobiography," she replied,
> handing him the padlock and pushing the door open. "I'm hell on
> safes, too."
> Zoner just stood and looked at the space where she'd been
> standing for a few seconds, a disbelieving look on his face; then he
> turned to me, grinned, and said,
> "I am -definitely- in love."
> "How nice for you," I replied, stepping into the doorway
> myself. "Coming in or staying out?"
> The interior of Building 13 was a dimly-lit confusion of
> cardboard boxes, wooden crates, and mysterious shapes underneath
> tarpaulins.
S.D.: Ah yes, rooms full of crates. Reminds me of a first-person shooter...
ARL: Which one?
S.D. <as if it's obvious>: *All* of them.
ARL: Okay! Yeesh.
> None of it was all that interesting, though; most of it
> seemed to be files, which might reveal the secrets of the universe or
> the identities of the conspirators who really control the world, but
> were more likely to be commissary reports from 1974. We kept moving
> down the line, hopping surreptitiously from building to building.
> Building 14 was more of the same.
> We expected when we got to Building 15, where we'd heard the
> super-highly-classified section of the warehousing area began, we
> would be confronted with an elaborate and sophisticated security
> system, which we would then have to work out some way of getting
> past. Instead, all we found was another slightly rusty no-brand
> padlock.
> "Y'know, for such a highly-classified facility, there really
> isn't much security here at all," I mused as we slipped into Building
> 15.
> "Yeah," Meg agreed. "I was expecting all kinds of brightly
> lit tile corridors, power doors, guards in servo armor... all the
> stuff we used to have in the really secure parts of OSI bases. This
> is just... like a regular Air Force base's junk storage."
ARL: Possibly because Area 51 *is* the Air Force's junk storage. Just because it's top secret and in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean it contains the secrets of the universe.
RACE: So where would the government stash all their top-secret devices?
TBS: A rest stop outside of Duluth, behind the counter of the Dairy Queen.
[ALL turn to look at TBS.]
TBS: It's the last place anyone would look.
[They think for a moment, then nod in agreement.]
> "Maybe they don't think anybody would ever get this far," said
> Zoner. "Or maybe there's just nothing interesting here... "
> "I always figured all the good stuff was at Wright-Patterson
> anyway," Meg replied.
> "You'd think if this -was- hyper-classified national-security
> stuff, they'd at least file it a little bit more coherently," I said,
> crouching and squinting at the label on a crate. "Lot Number
> 19473... " I moved to the next one over. "... Lot Number 4921.
> Yeah. This is organized."
> Zoner tried the top of Lot Number 19473; it was hinged - the
> crate was more like a box - and he had no trouble opening it and
> peering inside.
> "Hmm. Bunch of advanced-looking rifles. Wonder if they'd
> notice if I took one... "
ARL: Oh, so *that's* where Vidstudent got the Fuerstenberg...
> We scattered around the hangar, opening crates, poking and
> prodding at stuff, and having a general ill-advised good old time
> acting like kids at an antique market, calling out our findings to
> each other.
> "Hey," said Meg, reaching into a small box and coming out with
> a gleaming item. "You guys know what this is?"
> I took my mini-MagLite out of my pocket and shined it at the
> item. It was a golden medallion about five inches across, with an
> off-center hole bearing an amber crystal.
> "Headpiece to the Staff of Ra," I said.
> Meg regarded it curiously. "Are you sure? It looks kind of
> like a Valley of Shadows medallion, except for the markings... "
> "Ark of the Covenant," said Zoner from halfway inside a large
> crate across the way.
RACE <God>: HEY, I WAS LOOKING FOR THAT.
> "Nope, it's the headpiece to the Staff of Ra," I said.
> "Oh," said Meg, putting it back.
> The first crate I tried myself was something of an
> anti-climax; though quite large, it was almost empty, and what was in
> it was a disappointingly pedestrian item. "Oh, whoop-de-do, a
> Mannlicher-Carcano rifle. How exciting."
> From behind me stereo voices chimed in "Lee Harvey Oswald -
> huh?!" Turning, I found Meg and Zoner, separated by about twenty
> feet, holding open crates which were brimming with what appeared to be
> fog.
> Zoner looked at the side of his crate. "Lot 1138-A."
> Meg checked hers. "Lot 1138-C."
> "What happened to B?"
> A quick search of the area failed to turn up Lot 1138-B. So,
> with a collective shrug, we moved on.
TBS: See! A collective shrug! This *is* a Communist plot!
MMK <whiny>: Waaaaaandy, Gryphon's being more obscure than us!
GAVOK: Yeah!
WAND <over intercom>: Deal with it.
[MMK and GAVOK pout.]
> "Hey," Zoner's voice called out from some distant corner,
> "Hitler's brain!"
> Shortly thereafter I had opportunity to add, "Here's the rest
> of him... "
> "Ewww!" Meg remarked. "Hey, does anyone know what 'Aruchot'
> means?"
> Meg was holding an ancient, dusty book with a plastic embosser
> label bearing this single word affixed to the cover.
S.D.: Um... "meals"?
TBS: IT'S A COOKBOOK!! A COOKBOOK!! THEY'VE COME TO SERVE MAN!!
S.D.: It's Hebrew, Snot.
TBS: Oh. Never mind.
> "No idea," Zoner remarked. I shrugged.
> After long moments of finding nothing but file folders and
> outdated manuals, Zoner called Meg and me over.
> "Hey, you guys have -got- to see this."
> Inside a large crate, packed in straw, was a slab of obviously
> ancient sandstone. Clearly visible in the center of the stone was the
> imprint of a large, three-toed, reptilian foot. Just off to one side
> was another imprint, clearly that of a running shoe.
MMK <announcer>: Aeris running shoes: We're always running... from something!
> "I'd love to know the story behind this one."
> "So would I," Meg commented.
> "I bet it ends with someone getting sacked," I observed. "Or
> worse."
>
> MZ
> The anachronistic fossil was quite intriguing, but I doubted
> we'd ever figure out the story behind it. We went back to our
> haphazard exploring. I quickly discovered a crate of paperback novels
> entitled "Catch 23". I pocketed one for later reading. Meg
> discovered a crate labeled "Lot 49" - I advised her not to open it,
> just in case. Most intriguing was the crate labled "Lot 31416 Grails,
> Holy" (one of the few crates to be labeled with anything other than a
> lot number). Inside was a fairly standard moving pack full of what
> appeared to be about a dozen Holy Grails, all alike.
RACE <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, we need a Holy Grail?
TBS <Gryphon>: No, we've already got one, you know.
RACE <Zoner>: Excuse me?
S.D. <Meg>: He said he's already got one!
ARL: He probably *does*...
MMK: Either that or Fury found it during one of his many epic journeys!
THE LOONS: YAY! FURY!
> "Uh, hey guys?" Ben's voice summoned us over.
> "What's up?"
> He gestured into the open end of the large crate he was
> standing before. Inside was a bed, a chemical toilet, a chair, a
> large stack of MREs, a water cooler, and a bank of computers. The bed
> looked recently slept in.
> "Who do you think lives here?" Ben asked.
> "I have no idea. But I doubt they're sanctioned by the base
> commander."
> "Well, maybe we should leave their stuff alone then," Meg
> suggested.
> "Good idea."
> Ben resealed the crate and we continued poking around. I
> checked my watch, amazingly an hour had gone by already. Exploring an
> old warehouse full of weird stuff made time go by a lot faster than
> crouching behind a dumpster. Of course, it also raised the
> possibility that we'd be caught (or worse), but that's life.
ARL <Gryphon>: Sure, I could end up getting thrown into a maximum security
prison for the rest of my life, but I'll just get out of it with my
amazing powers of SMARM!
S.D.: Lets see how well his smarm works when he's biting pillows in D Block
with his new "friend" Rufus...
> I spent some time reconnoitering without finding anything of
> note, then I noticed a cool breeze coming from a large crate. I had
> to pry the front open, allowing clouds of billowing vapor to roll out
> across the floor. Inside was a large metal door with a display in the
> middle. Scraping away the frost I could just make out what it said.
> "Hey Ben! I don't know what this is, but this display says 0.001
> Kelvins!"
> "Whoa! Put it back, someone is saving it!"
> Seeing as I'd left my thermal undies back in Massachusetts, I
> decided not to follow the fabled feline, and resealed the crate.
> Suddenly, the warehouse was filled with the sound of wind
> howling through a yawning emptiness. A breeze plucked at my
> clothing. Wandering around the corner toward the noise, I found Meg
> staring blankly into an open crate, into which loose debris from the
> surrounding area was being sucked. As I watched, her uniform cap was
> sucked in as well. This was all quite fascinating, as the crate was
> about the size of a refrigerator box and stood clearly alone, some
> distance from the nearest wall.
> "Um, Meg, what's in there?"
ARL <Meg>: A plot hole.
RACE <Gryphon>: Huh. I'm suprised it isn't bigger...
> "nothing," she replied, her voice flat.
> "You mean it's empty?"
> "no... it's nothing."
> "Ah, staring into the abyss and all that. Well," I said,
> edging over to her, "why don't we just close that little box up then,
> shall we?"
> "ok."
> Quite deliberately -not- looking into the crate, I swung the
> lid closed. It got about halfway there before being grabbed by the
> wind and sucked shut with a jarring BANG, the latches falling into
> place automatically as it closed. Meg continued to stare blankly for
> just long enough for me to start to worry, before blinking and
> staggering back slightly. "Whoa, what was I doing? Hey, what's in
> this crate?" She reached for the latch.
> Quickly moving to block I replied. "Oh, it's nothing. Just
> an empty box. Why don't you check out one of those?"
> "Uh... OK." She moved off in another direction, shaking her
> head.
> While I stood their pondering the purpose of a box full of
> empty,
GAVOK: It makes a great conversation piece. "Hey, what's in that box?" "Absolutely nothing!"
MMK: Ohh, so *that* was the prize on Wheel of Fish...
S.D.: It would make a great place to hide bodies, too.
ARL: Shady, why are you channeling Tiffa all of a sudden?
S.D.: I'm just *saying*...
> I was interrupted by a cry of "Hey, neat!" from Ben. I found
> him holding a colorfully decorated tiki mask, complete with feather
> fringe.
> "What's with the mask?"
> "I don't know, but isn't it cool? I think it would look great
> on the wall in the den."
> "Look, the thing is probably cursed, or something. I don't
> think we need to be hanging anything we find here on our walls. I
> just pulled Meg away from a box full of /dev/null. I'm wary of
> bringing this stuff home."
> "Oh, but..."
> "Fine. I have my curse, you can have your curse. Enjoy."
> Anyway, my curse looked a lot better than the mask, nice though it
> was.
RACE: I know I'm going to regret this but... what's his curse?
MMK: Well, he fell into a spring while on a mission in China, and-
RACE: Stop.
> "Hey Zoner - what the hell's Wumpa Fruit?" he wondered,
> examining the crate next to the one where he'd found the tiki mask.
> I just scowled.
> "Ok, just asking."
> We had barely scratched the surface of the warehouse
> contents. The place seemed much larger from the inside than it did
> from the outside, with long rows of crates in a bewildering range of
> sizes. I had just happened upon one large crate marked Props, Apollo
> 11, Misc"
TBS: But the space shuttle couldn't use props; there's no air in space, so
it can't-
ARL: Snot?
TBS: Yeah?
[ARL sighs.]
ARL: Never mind.
> when Meg called out from near the door:
> "Hey guys, it's dark."
> Well, maybe I'd come back someday to check out the rest of
> this place. But right now it was time to go.
S.D. <Lisa Simpson>: I know all those words but they don't make sense together.
> The United States Air Force
> Advanced Technology Research and Testing Center.
> Area 51.
[MMK slaps his hand on top of GAVOK's hat. GAVOK buzzes.]
MMK: What is a crappy arcade rail shooter?
> Zoner, Meg and I sat in an idling Humvee less than a mile from
> the gates of the most restricted place in the United States of America
> - possibly the world.
RACE <Gryphon>: But we just weren't tall enough to ride the Cyclone Coaster 5000.
> We wore freshly laundered, nicely pressed,
> completely fake United States Air Force uniforms, with freshly minted,
> nicely laid out, completely fake United States Air Force ID tags. If
> traced, those would be connected to freshly entered, nicely formatted,
> completely fake entries in the USAF personnel computers.
MMK: But was it fake?
> Along with
> long, distinguished, and completely fake service records.
MMK: No, really. Was it fake?
> No problem.
> "Are you sure our IDs are OK?" I asked Zoner as we approached
> the gates.
GAVOK: The fake gates.
> "Will you relax?" he replied. "We're not applying for a
> -job-, we're just here to steal some stuff."
GAVOK: Fake stuff.
> "Of course. Silly me." He had a point, though.
GAVOK: The point... that was real.
> With us
> coming in as visitors, the guards at the fence would assume the deep
> digging had already been done by the people who issued us the IDs and
> travel plans in the first place.
> Or at least, that was the theory.
GAVOK: The theory was fake too.
> "Here we go... I hope to Christ this works," Zoner muttered as
> we drove up to the gatehouse. Then, sliding down the window, he put
> on his most serious military face and returned the guard's salute, as
> did Meg and I.
ARL <guard>: Thanks. I knew I dropped my salute somewhere back there.
> Guards circled the Humvee as the man in the booth scanned our
> IDs.
GAVOK: Their fakity fakity fake IDs.
> One of them probed under the Humvee with a mirror. I reminded
> myself not to grin at the one who was looking in the side window at
> me. I don't think I looked nervous; in the course of adventuring with
> Zoner I've gotten pretty good at covering that.
S.D. <Gryphon>: I'M NOT A SPY! Er, wait...
> "Everything checks out, Major Zorn,"
RACE: Okay, I for one would never ever trust a man named Major Zorn. I'm more than fairly certain that his objective is world domination in some way or another.
> said the guard, handing
> Zoner back the passes. "Welcome to Groom Lake."
TBS: Which is neither a groom or a lake.
> "Thank you, Lieutenant," said Zoner, punctuating his words
> with a brisk nod. The guards got out of our way and we drove onto the
> base unimpeded.
> "Piece of cake," said Meg.
MMK <Gryph>: No thanks. I had a big lunch.
> "Yeah, Gryph and I have gotten into and out of places a lot
> more heavily guarded than this," Zoner replied.
> "We have?" I asked, eyeing the sixteen-foot perimeter fence
> and fortified buildings.
GAVOK: Sounds to me as if Zoner was telling a fake story.
ARL: Please stop.
> "Oh, yeah," said Zoner. "Remember the Nonsecuadoran Embassy
> in Brasilia?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: "Nonsecuadoran"? I just heard you say it and I still can't understand how it's pronounced!
> I considered it. "I guess that might have been more -densely-
> guarded," I allowed.
> "Anyway, it's time to see if that map I pulled off the Milnet
> is worth anything. Which building does it say the Bionic Six gear is
> in?"
MMK <Gryphon, reading>: Says here it was Miss Scarlet in the library with a wrench. That can't be right.
> I pulled the printout from the inside pocket of my Air Force
> uniform jacket, unfolded it, and perused, then chuckled. "You're
> gonna love this. It's in Building 19."
GAVOK <Zoner>: Isn't that the Clown Factory? Yay!
> Zoner chuckled. "You're right, I love it," he said, making a
> left-hand turn and following the numbered buildings.
ARL: That's great. So what the hell does it mean?
MMK: Wise man say, "obscurity is good for you!"
ARL: MMK, *you* said that.
MMK: Really?
ARL: Yes.
MMK: Well, fancy that.
[He ^_^s]
> We left the Humvee parked in front of Building 10 and walked
> the rest of the way, three career officers, a major and two captains,
> striding purposefully in a tight triangle formation. We looked
> neither right nor left. There were no soldiers walking round in this
> part of the base, anyway, which was just as well, since I was half
> convinced that I had NOT A REAL OFFICER painted in glowing orange
> letters on my back.
TBS: You do, actually. Zoner's got a weird sense of humor...
> I wished, not for the first time, that we were
> ripping off the Army; Air Force uniforms are made of a dreadful blue
> polyester blend. I hate the way synthetic dress slacks feel, to say
> nothing of the way they ride up.
RACE: I really didn't need to know that...
MMK <Gryphon>: ...and my *thong*... man, that was *killing* me! It's like someone took a rope and-
RACE: SHUT! *UP!!*
> Buildings 1-12 were low, gray-sided buildings, office blocks
> and barracks, by the look of them. 13 on were much larger, corrugated
> aluminum structures - Butler buildings, part hangar, part warehouse.
> They reminded me of the decommissioned Nike missile hangars at Presque
> Isle Regional Airport in northern Maine, where my aunt's common-law
> husband kept his crop duster.
TBS: Warrior's Legacy: All filler, no killer!
> The differences were primarily matters
> of scale. We didn't go all the way down to Building 19, though; our
> fake orders gave us no reason to go into the super-classified section
> that began at Building 15. Instead, we stopped at Building 12. The
> late afternoon sun cast long shadows of the buildings and colored the
> desert in bright oranges and pinks, and with no personnel in evidence
> outside the buildings, the base looked deserted.
> "Now what?" Meg asked Zoner quietly.
> "Now," replied Zoner, "we hide and wait for dark."
S.D.: Oh. They're searching for the Great Pumpkin.
> There are few activities more tedious than hiding behind a
> Dumpster for two hours waiting for nightfall to complete itself.
TBS: I agree. Like putting your pants on *one* leg at a time. Sheesh!
> After about fifteen minutes, we started getting very bored. Finally,
> we seemed to reach a silent consensus, mutually said "the hell with
> it," and started looking for a way to get into Building 13, just to
> see what was in there.
RACE <Zoner>: I'm bored.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wanna sneak into a secured building on a top-secret military base?
RACE <Zoner>: ...yeah, might as well.
GAVOK <singing>: The Gryph went into the building to see what he could see!
MMK and TBS: HEY!
GAVOK <singing>: The other side of the building was all that he could see!
MMK and TBS: SO!
GAVOK <singing>: The Gryph went into the building to see what he could see!
MMK and TBS: HEY!
GAVOK, MMK and TBS <singing>: THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BUILDING WAS ALL THAT HE COULD SEE!
> We left our hiding place, the lapels of our uniform jackets
> Velcroed over one another to cover the white of our shirts (an idea
> Zoner got from the sniper scene in "The Living Daylights", no doubt).
> A short, tension-filled scramble across the open alleyway separating
> the smaller buildings from the hangars brought us to the man door at
> the back corner of Building 13.
> "Hm," Zoner murmured, lifting the padlock that secured the
> door in the palm of his hand and peering at it. "I'd expected a
> slightly more sophisticated security system."
GAVOK: You'll change your tune when that lock turns into a FIFTEEN-FOOT TALL ROBOT OF DEATH!!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Or not. Locks are tricky like that.
> "Don't tell me you didn't bring a lockpick."
RACE <Zoner>: Okay. I didn't bring my... thing that opens the lock. How was that?
> "Um... just my electronic lock decoder. I never thought
> they'd use something this primitive... "
ARL: Most likely because they didn't think that anyone would try to pull a stunt like this...
> Meg sighed. "Allow me," she said, pushing Zoner gently out of
> the way and delving into the lock with the toothpick and tweezers from
> a Swiss Army knife. As she worked at it, she muttered wryly,
> "No-brand lock, probably cost the Defense Department sixty-five
> hundred dollars. It's just as well... Master locks are a pain in
> the... "
> Click!
> "There."
> "Where'd you learn to pick locks?" Zoner asked, a note of
> appreciation in his voice.
> Meg shrugged. "Richard Feynman's autobiography," she replied,
> handing him the padlock and pushing the door open. "I'm hell on
> safes, too."
> Zoner just stood and looked at the space where she'd been
> standing for a few seconds, a disbelieving look on his face; then he
> turned to me, grinned, and said,
> "I am -definitely- in love."
MMK <Zoner>: With Eddy Vedder.
> "How nice for you," I replied, stepping into the doorway
> myself. "Coming in or staying out?"
> The interior of Building 13 was a dimly-lit confusion of
> cardboard boxes, wooden crates, and mysterious shapes underneath
> tarpaulins.
S.D.: Ah yes, rooms full of crates. Reminds me of a first-person shooter...
ARL: Which one?
S.D. <as if it's obvious>: *All* of them.
ARL: Okay! Yeesh.
> None of it was all that interesting, though; most of it
> seemed to be files, which might reveal the secrets of the universe or
> the identities of the conspirators who really control the world, but
> were more likely to be commissary reports from 1974. We kept moving
> down the line, hopping surreptitiously from building to building.
> Building 14 was more of the same.
> We expected when we got to Building 15, where we'd heard the
> super-highly-classified section of the warehousing area began, we
> would be confronted with an elaborate and sophisticated security
> system, which we would then have to work out some way of getting
> past. Instead, all we found was another slightly rusty no-brand
> padlock.
> "Y'know, for such a highly-classified facility, there really
> isn't much security here at all," I mused as we slipped into Building
> 15.
> "Yeah," Meg agreed. "I was expecting all kinds of brightly
> lit tile corridors, power doors, guards in servo armor... all the
> stuff we used to have in the really secure parts of OSI bases. This
> is just... like a regular Air Force base's junk storage."
ARL: Possibly because Area 51 *is* the Air Force's junk storage. Just because it's top secret and in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean it contains the secrets of the universe.
RACE: So where would the government stash all their top-secret devices?
TBS: A rest stop outside of Duluth, behind the counter of the Dairy Queen.
[ALL turn to look at TBS.]
TBS: It's the last place anyone would look.
[They think for a moment, then nod in agreement.]
> "Maybe they don't think anybody would ever get this far," said
> Zoner. "Or maybe there's just nothing interesting here... "
> "I always figured all the good stuff was at Wright-Patterson
> anyway," Meg replied.
> "You'd think if this -was- hyper-classified national-security
> stuff, they'd at least file it a little bit more coherently," I said,
> crouching and squinting at the label on a crate. "Lot Number
> 19473... " I moved to the next one over. "... Lot Number 4921.
> Yeah. This is organized."
> Zoner tried the top of Lot Number 19473; it was hinged - the
> crate was more like a box - and he had no trouble opening it and
> peering inside.
> "Hmm. Bunch of advanced-looking rifles. Wonder if they'd
> notice if I took one... "
ARL: Oh, so *that's* where Vidstudent got the Fuerstenberg...
> We scattered around the hangar, opening crates, poking and
> prodding at stuff, and having a general ill-advised good old time
> acting like kids at an antique market, calling out our findings to
> each other.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: It's a lot like the time aliens abducted me.
> "Hey," said Meg, reaching into a small box and coming out with
> a gleaming item. "You guys know what this is?"
MMK: It's Kim Kaphwan's jaw. Put it back.
> I took my mini-MagLite out of my pocket and shined it at the
> item. It was a golden medallion about five inches across, with an
> off-center hole bearing an amber crystal.
> "Headpiece to the Staff of Ra," I said.
RACE: Associated with the Headpiece to the Staff of Shish-boom-ba.
> Meg regarded it curiously. "Are you sure? It looks kind of
> like a Valley of Shadows medallion, except for the markings... "
> "Ark of the Covenant," said Zoner from halfway inside a large
> crate across the way.
RACE <God>: HEY, I WAS LOOKING FOR THAT.
> "Nope, it's the headpiece to the Staff of Ra,"
GAVOK: The EVERLIVING!
> I said.
> "Oh," said Meg, putting it back.
> The first crate I tried myself was something of an
> anti-climax; though quite large, it was almost empty, and what was in
> it was a disappointingly pedestrian item. "Oh, whoop-de-do, a
> Mannlicher-Carcano rifle. How exciting."
> From behind me stereo voices chimed in "Lee Harvey Oswald -
> huh?!" Turning, I found Meg and Zoner, separated by about twenty
> feet, holding open crates which were brimming with what appeared to be
> fog.
> Zoner looked at the side of his crate. "Lot 1138-A."
> Meg checked hers. "Lot 1138-C."
> "What happened to B?"
S.D. <operator voice>: Just kidding!
> A quick search of the area failed to turn up Lot 1138-B. So,
> with a collective shrug, we moved on.
TBS: See! A collective shrug! This *is* a Communist plot!
MMK <whiny>: Waaaaaandy, Gryphon's being more obscure than us!
GAVOK: Yeah!
WAND <over intercom>: Deal with it.
[MMK and GAVOK pout.]
> "Hey," Zoner's voice called out from some distant corner,
> "Hitler's brain!"
> Shortly thereafter I had opportunity to add, "Here's the rest
> of him... "
> "Ewww!" Meg remarked. "Hey, does anyone know what 'Aruchot'
> means?"
> Meg was holding an ancient, dusty book with a plastic embosser
> label bearing this single word affixed to the cover.
S.D.: Um... "meals"?
TBS: IT'S A COOKBOOK!! A COOKBOOK!! THEY'VE COME TO SERVE MAN!!
S.D.: It's Hebrew, Snot.
TBS: Oh. Never mind.
> "No idea," Zoner remarked. I shrugged.
> After long moments of finding nothing but file folders and
> outdated manuals, Zoner called Meg and me over.
> "Hey, you guys have -got- to see this."
RACE <Zoner>: It's this awesome show about a samurai who's tossed into the future and has to beat up this evil demon guy to get back. It's pretty sweet.
> Inside a large crate, packed in straw, was a slab of obviously
> ancient sandstone. Clearly visible in the center of the stone was the
> imprint of a large, three-toed, reptilian foot. Just off to one side
> was another imprint, clearly that of a running shoe.
MMK <announcer>: Aeris running shoes: We're always running... from something!
> "I'd love to know the story behind this one."
> "So would I," Meg commented.
GAVOK: It's obvious. Quan Chi did his "beat him to death with his own leg" Fatality to Reptile. Duh.
> "I bet it ends with someone getting sacked," I observed. "Or
> worse."
>
> MZ
> The anachronistic fossil was quite intriguing, but I doubted
> we'd ever figure out the story behind it. We went back to our
> haphazard exploring. I quickly discovered a crate of paperback novels
> entitled "Catch 23". I pocketed one for later reading.
ARL: He didn't take a copy of "Steal This Book". Ironic.
> Meg
> discovered a crate labeled "Lot 49" - I advised her not to open it,
> just in case. Most intriguing was the crate labled "Lot 31416 Grails,
> Holy"
TBS: 31,416? Those are a lot of Holy Grails.
> (one of the few crates to be labeled with anything other than a
> lot number). Inside was a fairly standard moving pack full of what
> appeared to be about a dozen Holy Grails, all alike.
RACE <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, we need a Holy Grail?
TBS <Gryphon>: No, we've already got one, you know.
RACE <Zoner>: Excuse me?
S.D. <Meg>: He said he's already got one!
ARL: He probably *does*...
MMK: Either that or Fury found it during one of his many epic journeys!
THE LOONS: YAY! FURY!
> "Uh, hey guys?" Ben's voice summoned us over.
> "What's up?"
> He gestured into the open end of the large crate he was
> standing before. Inside was a bed, a chemical toilet, a chair, a
> large stack of MREs, a water cooler, and a bank of computers. The bed
> looked recently slept in.
> "Who do you think lives here?" Ben asked.
MMK: Ben Stein.
> "I have no idea. But I doubt they're sanctioned by the base
> commander."
RACE: CATS?
> "Well, maybe we should leave their stuff alone then," Meg
> suggested.
> "Good idea."
> Ben resealed the crate and we continued poking around. I
> checked my watch, amazingly an hour had gone by already. Exploring an
> old warehouse full of weird stuff made time go by a lot faster than
> crouching behind a dumpster. Of course, it also raised the
> possibility that we'd be caught (or worse), but that's life.
ARL <Gryphon>: Sure, I could end up getting thrown into a maximum security
prison for the rest of my life, but I'll just get out of it with my
amazing powers of SMARM!
S.D.: Lets see how well his smarm works when he's biting pillows in D Block
with his new "friend" Rufus...
> I spent some time reconnoitering without finding anything of
> note, then I noticed a cool breeze coming from a large crate. I had
> to pry the front open, allowing clouds of billowing vapor to roll out
> across the floor. Inside was a large metal door with a display in the
> middle. Scraping away the frost I could just make out what it said.
> "Hey Ben! I don't know what this is, but this display says 0.001
> Kelvins!"
> "Whoa! Put it back, someone is saving it!"
> Seeing as I'd left my thermal undies back in Massachusetts, I
> decided not to follow the fabled feline, and resealed the crate.
> Suddenly, the warehouse was filled with the sound of wind
> howling through a yawning emptiness. A breeze plucked at my
> clothing. Wandering around the corner toward the noise, I found Meg
> staring blankly into an open crate, into which loose debris from the
> surrounding area was being sucked. As I watched, her uniform cap was
> sucked in as well.
RACE: Now let's go shirt!
> This was all quite fascinating, as the crate was
> about the size of a refrigerator box and stood clearly alone, some
> distance from the nearest wall.
> "Um, Meg, what's in there?"
ARL <Meg>: A plot hole.
RACE <Gryphon>: Huh. I'm suprised it isn't bigger...
> "nothing," she replied, her voice flat.
> "You mean it's empty?"
S.D.: Can't be. It has her hat.
> "no... it's nothing."
> "Ah, staring into the abyss and all that. Well," I said,
> edging over to her, "why don't we just close that little box up then,
> shall we?"
> "ok."
> Quite deliberately -not- looking into the crate, I swung the
> lid closed. It got about halfway there before being grabbed by the
> wind and sucked shut with a jarring BANG, the latches falling into
> place automatically as it closed. Meg continued to stare blankly for
> just long enough for me to start to worry, before blinking and
> staggering back slightly. "Whoa, what was I doing? Hey, what's in
> this crate?" She reached for the latch.
> Quickly moving to block I replied. "Oh, it's nothing. Just
> an empty box. Why don't you check out one of those?"
> "Uh... OK." She moved off in another direction, shaking her
> head.
> While I stood their pondering the purpose of a box full of
> empty,
GAVOK: It makes a great conversation piece. "Hey, what's in that box?" "Absolutely nothing!"
MMK: Ohh, so *that* was the prize on Wheel of Fish...
S.D.: It would make a great place to hide bodies, too.
ARL: Shady, why are you channeling Tiffa all of a sudden?
S.D.: I'm just *saying*...
> I was interrupted by a cry of "Hey, neat!" from Ben. I found
> him holding a colorfully decorated tiki mask, complete with feather
> fringe.
> "What's with the mask?"
> "I don't know, but isn't it cool? I think it would look great
> on the wall in the den."
> "Look, the thing is probably cursed, or something. I don't
> think we need to be hanging anything we find here on our walls.
MMK <Zoner>: Remember what happened when the Brady Bunch tried it.
> I
> just pulled Meg away from a box full of /dev/null. I'm wary of
> bringing this stuff home."
> "Oh, but..."
> "Fine. I have my curse, you can have your curse. Enjoy."
MMK <Gryphon>: Fuck.
GAVOK <Zoner>: Shit.
> Anyway, my curse looked a lot better than the mask, nice though it
> was.
RACE: I know I'm going to regret this but... what's his curse?
MMK: Well, he fell into a spring while on a mission in China, and-
RACE: Stop.
> "Hey Zoner - what the hell's Wumpa Fruit?" he wondered,
> examining the crate next to the one where he'd found the tiki mask.
> I just scowled.
> "Ok, just asking."
> We had barely scratched the surface of the warehouse
> contents. The place seemed much larger from the inside than it did
> from the outside, with long rows of crates in a bewildering range of
> sizes. I had just happened upon one large crate marked Props, Apollo
> 11, Misc"
TBS: But the space shuttle couldn't use props; there's no air in space, so
it can't-
ARL: Snot?
TBS: Yeah?
[ARL sighs.]
ARL: Never mind.
> when Meg called out from near the door:
> "Hey guys, it's dark."
RACE <Doctrine Dark>: Somebody's been sleeping in my bed!
> Well, maybe I'd come back someday to check out the rest of
> this place. But right now it was time to go.
ALL <singing>: And now it's time to say goodbye to both our fanfic stars! G-R-Y!
GAVOK: "Y" ask why?
ALL <singing>: F-O-N!
GAVOK: "N"yone notice we spelled it wrong?
ALL <singing>: Z-O-N-E-R!
// "You're
> gonna love this. It's in Building 19."
GAVOK <Zoner>: Isn't that the Clown Factory? Yay!
> Zoner chuckled. "You're right, I love it," he said, making a
> left-hand turn and following the numbered buildings.
ARL: That's great. So what the hell does it mean?
MMK: Wise man say, "obscurity is good for you!"
ARL: MMK, *you* said that.
MMK: Really?
ARL: Yes.
MMK: Well, fancy that.
[He ^_^s]
\\
It's a MA joke, involving a number of stores (including one in Worcester) that sell 'good stuff cheap' and have a badly designed website with their history on it here (http://www.building19.com/history.htm)
> G
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual - and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day. Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse. OK... oh Christ,
> did I really say that to Janet? I hope she doesn't remember it.
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good. In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks, though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
> that bag. I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets. Even for someone
> with your skills, at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough enough to hack it,
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks? I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back." She rummaged in her bag and
> handed me a card. "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied. >She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion. >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass. >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits. >I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano, but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street, but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame! You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly. >Good day.<
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set, I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her. "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant." With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply, and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts. Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics", as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
S.D. <G-Man>: It'sssss time to choose, Missssster Freeman...
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual - and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day. Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse. OK... oh Christ,
> did I really say that to Janet? I hope she doesn't remember it.
RACE <Janet>: "Carouse?" Nobody carouses anymore; it just isn't cool.
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good. In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
ARL: Sure he was beaten senseless, but it was a *polite* beating, damn it!
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks, though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
S.D.: That's what you get for buying low-quality handcuffs.
RACE: ...okay, now do you mean that in a "Ryu's trapped by Sakura" way,
or a "Ryu and Sakura had kinky sex" way?
S.D.: Yes.
[S.D. smirks. RACE fumes.]
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and while I'm in the area, I might as well pick up a copy of "Munchkin."
ARL: That's... strangely apropos.
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
GAVOK <Sakura>: Home? I have no home. Hunted... despised... living like
an animal. The jungle is my home. For fifteen years I have lived in
this-
ARL: Alright, that's enough.
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
MMK <Ryan>: ...my pants.
> that bag. I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
RACE: He doesn't know how good he has it... to be blessed with such
a wonderful, wonderful daughter!
S.D.: Ooh, yeah, his daughter is the token fanservice for fat, pimply
American arcade hounds and lecherous Japanese salarymen! REAL prestigious...
RACE <twitching>: It's almost as if you *want* me to hurt you...
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets. Even for someone
> with your skills, at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough enough to hack it,
GAVOK <Sakura>: 3y3 y4m 31337, d4mn j00!!!!!1!11
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks? I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back."
TBS <Sakura>: If you had a recipt, then maybe it would be a different story...
> She rummaged in her bag and
> handed me a card. "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...but I'm having trouble finding a box big enough...
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied. >She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Cable modem, upgraded from a 56k a couple weeks ago.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion.
RACE: Don't even *joke* about that, you son of a-
S.D. <to ARL>: I love rabid fandoms, don't you?
> >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass.
GAVOK: Care to test that theory?
[GAVOK holds up a large-mouth bass.]
ARL: Where'd you get that fish?
GAVOK: What fish?
[The bass disappears in a puff of smoke. ARL blinks.]
ARL: ...right.
> >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits. >I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano, but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street, but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame! You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly.
RACE <Kasugano>: The long-distance rates are a bitch and a half, lemme tell you.
> >Good day.<
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
MMK <Sakura>: To a place where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm root beer and the towels are oh so FLUFFY!
[*DING!*]
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set, I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow.
TBS <eyes>: No!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow, damn you!
TBS <eyes>: You're not the boss of me, bitch!
GAVOK <Sakura>: GODDAMNIT! DO IT!!
TBS <eyes>: Woah. Okay then.
ARL: We almost went an entire episode without that line, and you had to go stuff it up. Thanks SO much...
GAVOK, TBS: You're Welcome!
[ARL sighs and shakes his head sadly.]
> and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her. "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
MMK <singing>: Just call 36-24-36, hey, I lead a life of crime!
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant."
RACE: Just what the hell are you saying? She wouldn't resort to... to...
MMK: ...working at McDonalds?
RACE: NO!
[pause]
RACE: Wait, what?
> With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply, and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts.
> Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
MMK <Gryphon>: I can't help it if I love interpretive dance!
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
GAVOK: ...and karma. Lots and lots of karma.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
MMK: Well, at least Fury's happy.
THE LOONS: Yay Fury.
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics", as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
> G
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual - and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day.
MMK <Gryphon>: Oh crap, I forgot to turn off the oven!
> Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse.
RACE: Walk into a bar...
> OK... oh Christ,
GAVOK <Jesus>: I gave you a win over Ryu! Stop bugging me!
> did I really say that to Janet?
TBS <Gryphon>: All your base are belong to us!
> I hope she doesn't remember it.
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good. In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks,
MMK <Zoner>: Psst! Fangirl clogged the toilet!
> though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
GAVOK: And Scott Baio as Chachi.
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
RACE <Gryphon>: You too good for your home!? ANSWER ME!
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
> that bag.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Why is your duffle bag vibrating?
> I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
ARL: Sean and Shingo.
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets.
S.D. <Gryphon>: It'll break your hand.
> Even for someone
> with your skills, at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough enough to hack it,
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks? I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back." She rummaged in her bag and
> handed me a card.
> "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied. >She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion. >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass.
GAVOK, MMK and TBS: Do it! Do it! Do it!
> >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits. >I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano, but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street, but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame!
ARL: So if Remy had kids...
> You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
RACE: So if Mojo Jojo had kids...
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly. >Good day.<
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
MMK: *gasp* Flaw? With Gryphon? Wow!
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set, I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her.
RACE <Sakura>: Breast Inspector?
> "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant." With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply, and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
MMK <Gryphon>: Jesus, you've been sleeping on our couch for way to long!
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts. Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
TBS <Gryphon>: Hey Zoner, can you go buy me a skirt and women's underwear? I want to try something.
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics", as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
GAVOK <Gryphon>: What do you mean you'll drive? You can't even hold a magazine right!
S.D. <G-Man>: It'sssss time to choose, Missssster Freeman...
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual - and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day.
MMK <Gryphon>: Oh crap, I forgot to turn off the oven!
> Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse.
RACE: Walk into a bar...
> OK... oh Christ,
GAVOK <Jesus>: I gave you a win over Ryu! Stop bugging me!
> did I really say that to Janet?
TBS <Gryphon>: All your base are belong to us!
> I hope she doesn't remember it.
RACE <Janet>: "Carouse?" Nobody carouses anymore; it just isn't cool.
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good. In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
ARL: Sure he was beaten senseless, but it was a *polite* beating, damn it!
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks,
MMK <Zoner>: Psst! Fangirl clogged the toilet!
> though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
S.D.: That's what you get for buying low-quality handcuffs.
RACE: ...okay, now do you mean that in a "Ryu's trapped by Sakura" way,
or a "Ryu and Sakura had kinky sex" way?
S.D.: Yes.
[S.D. smirks. RACE fumes.]
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
GAVOK: And Scott Baio as Chachi.
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and while I'm in the area, I might as well pick up a copy of "Munchkin."
ARL: That's... strangely apropos.
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
RACE <Gryphon>: You too good for your home!? ANSWER ME!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Home? I have no home. Hunted... despised... living like
an animal. The jungle is my home. For fifteen years I have lived in
this-
ARL: Alright, that's enough.
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
MMK <Ryan>: ...my pants.
> that bag.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Why is your duffle bag vibrating?
> I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
ARL: Sean and Shingo.
RACE: He doesn't know how good he has it... to be blessed with such
a wonderful, wonderful daughter!
S.D.: Ooh, yeah, his daughter is the token fanservice for fat, pimply
American arcade hounds and lecherous Japanese salarymen! REAL prestigious...
RACE <twitching>: It's almost as if you *want* me to hurt you...
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets.
S.D. <Gryphon>: It'll break your hand.
> Even for someone
> with your skills, at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough
enough to hack it,
GAVOK <Sakura>: 3y3 y4m 31337, d4mn j00!!!!!1!11
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks? I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back."
TBS <Sakura>: If you had a recipt, then maybe it would be a different story...
> "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...but I'm having trouble finding a box big enough...
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied. >She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Cable modem, upgraded from a 56k a couple weeks ago.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion.
RACE: Don't even *joke* about that, you son of a-
S.D. <to ARL>: I love rabid fandoms, don't you?
> >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass.
GAVOK: Care to test that theory?
[GAVOK holds up a large-mouth bass.]
ARL: Where'd you get that fish?
GAVOK: What fish?
[The bass disappears in a puff of smoke. ARL blinks.]
ARL: ...right.
> >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits. >I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano, but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street, but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame!
ARL: So if Remy had kids...
> You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
RACE: So if Mojo Jojo had kids...
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly.
RACE <Kasugano>: The long-distance rates are a bitch and a half, lemme tell you.
> >Good day.<
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
MMK <Sakura>: To a place where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm root beer and the towels are oh so FLUFFY!
[*DING!*]
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
MMK: *gasp* Flaw? With Gryphon? Wow!
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set, I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow.
TBS <eyes>: No!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow, damn you!
TBS <eyes>: You're not the boss of me, bitch!
GAVOK <Sakura>: GODDAMNIT! DO IT!!
TBS <eyes>: Woah. Okay then.
ARL: We almost went an entire episode without that line, and you had to go stuff it up. Thanks SO much...
GAVOK, TBS: You're Welcome!
[ARL sighs and shakes his head sadly.]
> and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her.
RACE <Sakura>: Breast Inspector?
> "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
MMK <singing>: Just call 36-24-36, hey, I lead a life of crime!
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant."
RACE: Just what the hell are you saying? She wouldn't resort to... to...
MMK: ...working at McDonalds?
RACE: NO!
[pause]
RACE: Wait, what?
> With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply, and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
MMK <Gryphon>: Jesus, you've been sleeping on our couch for way to long!
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts.
> Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
MMK <Gryphon>: I can't help it if I love interpretive dance!
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
GAVOK: ...and karma. Lots and lots of karma.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
MMK: Well, at least Fury's happy.
THE LOONS: Yay Fury.
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
TBS <Gryphon>: Hey Zoner, can you go buy me a skirt and women's underwear? I want to try something.
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics", as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
GAVOK <Gryphon>: What do you mean you'll drive? You can't even hold a magazine right!
[...and ironically, right after I posted on Ballad 1 about not being able to be here for a while, my condition started looking up. "Bob" told me about Give Up Training, but I keep having to be reminded of its efficacy over and over. -z]
> G
S.D. <G-Man>: It'sssss time to choose, Missssster Freeman...
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual - and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day.
MMK <Gryphon>: Oh crap, I forgot to turn off the oven!
> Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse.
RACE: Walk into a bar...
> OK... oh Christ,
GAVOK <Jesus>: I gave you a win over Ryu! Stop bugging me!
> did I really say that to Janet?
TBS <Gryphon>: All your base are belong to us!
> I hope she doesn't remember it.
RACE <Janet>: "Carouse?" Nobody carouses anymore; it just isn't cool.
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good. In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
ARL: Sure he was beaten senseless, but it was a *polite* beating, damn it!
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found
GAVOK: --Charlie wearing a lampshade on his head. Ironically, it looked more normal than his haircut.
> Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks,
MMK <Zoner>: Psst! Fangirl clogged the toilet!
> though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
S.D.: That's what you get for buying low-quality handcuffs.
RACE: ...okay, now do you mean that in a "Ryu's trapped by Sakura" way,
or a "Ryu and Sakura had kinky sex" way?
S.D.: Yes.
[S.D. smirks. RACE fumes.]
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
MMK <Tom Servo as Spock>: I'm not going back, Jim.
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
MMK <James T. Kirk>: I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky...
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
GAVOK: And Scott Baio as Chachi.
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and while I'm in the area, I might as well pick up a copy of "Munchkin."
ARL: That's... strangely apropos.
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
RACE <Gryphon>: You too good for your home!? ANSWER ME!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Home? I have no home. Hunted... despised... living like
an animal. The jungle is my home. For fifteen years I have lived in
this-
ARL: Alright, that's enough.
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
MMK <Ryan>: ...my pants.
> that bag.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Why is your duffle bag vibrating?
> I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
ARL: Sean and Shingo.
RACE: He doesn't know how good he has it... to be blessed with such
a wonderful, wonderful daughter!
S.D.: Ooh, yeah, his daughter is the token fanservice for fat, pimply
American arcade hounds and lecherous Japanese salarymen! REAL prestigious...
RACE <twitching>: It's almost as if you *want* me to hurt you...
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets.
S.D. <Gryphon>: It'll break your hand.
> Even for someone
> with your skills, at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough
enough to hack it,
GAVOK <Sakura>: 3y3 y4m 31337, d4mn j00!!!!!1!11
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks? I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back."
TBS <Sakura>: If you had a recipt, then maybe it would be a different story...
> "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
ARL: Particuarly since there wasn't even a "Moshi moshi" to start it off.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...but I'm having trouble finding a box big enough...
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied. >She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Cable modem, upgraded from a 56k a couple weeks ago.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion.
RACE: Don't even *joke* about that, you son of a-
S.D. <to ARL>: I love rabid fandoms, don't you?
> >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass.
GAVOK: Care to test that theory?
[GAVOK holds up a large-mouth bass.]
ARL: Where'd you get that fish?
GAVOK: What fish?
[The bass disappears in a puff of smoke. ARL blinks.]
ARL: ...right.
> >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits. >I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano,
TBS <Mr. Kasugano>: Well, she has a room full of _Nakayoshi_ and _Hana to Yume_, but I've a shelf of _Mister Magazine_ and _Shuman Gold_ -- um, you didn't hear that last bit.
> but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street, but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame!
ARL: So if Remy had kids...
> You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
RACE: So if Mojo Jojo had kids...
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly.
RACE <Kasugano>: The long-distance rates are a bitch and a half, lemme tell you.
> >Good day.<
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
GAVOK <phone>: Hey, man, I'm just the messenger.
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
MMK <Sakura>: To a place where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm root beer and the towels are oh so FLUFFY!
[*DING!*]
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
MMK: *gasp* Flaw? With Gryphon? Wow!
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
S.D. <Gryphon as Peppermint Patty>: That's not a cash balance -- that's sarcasm!
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
[GAVOK opens his mouth.]
RACE: [glares] Don't push me.
MMK <Rap Master Binky>: --'cause I'm close to the edge. I've been reincarnated as a very small trimmed hedge.
[RACE facepalms.]
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set, I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow.
TBS <eyes>: No!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow, damn you!
TBS <eyes>: You're not the boss of me, bitch!
GAVOK <Sakura>: GODDAMNIT! DO IT!!
TBS <eyes>: Woah. Okay then.
ARL: We almost went an entire episode without that line, and you had to go stuff it up. Thanks SO much...
GAVOK, TBS: You're Welcome!
[ARL sighs and shakes his head sadly.]
> and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her.
RACE <Sakura>: Breast Inspector?
> "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
MMK <singing>: Just call 36-24-36, hey, I lead a life of crime!
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
TBS <Bester>: Be seeing you. [gives Village salute]
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant."
RACE: Just what the hell are you saying? She wouldn't resort to... to...
MMK: ...working at McDonalds?
RACE: NO!
[pause]
RACE: Wait, what?
> With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply, and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
MMK <Gryphon>: Jesus, you've been sleeping on our couch for way too long!
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts.
> Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
MMK <Gryphon>: I can't help it if I love interpretive dance!
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
GAVOK: ...and karma. Lots and lots of karma.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
MMK: Well, at least Fury's happy.
THE LOONS: Yay Fury.
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
TBS <Gryphon>: Hey Zoner, can you go buy me a skirt and women's underwear? I want to try something.
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics", as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
GAVOK <Gryphon>: What do you mean you'll drive? You can't even hold a magazine right!
Brought to you by Scott Bakula. (poss. double post)
by The BS
> G
S.D. <G-Man>: It'sssss time to choose, Missssster Freeman...
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual - and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day.
MMK <Gryphon>: Oh crap, I forgot to turn off the oven!
TBS <Gryphon>: I just remembered! I was a half-dragon, half-elven princess in a past life!
ARL: I call no more Otherkin jokes.
TBS: Fair enough.
> Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse.
RACE: Walk into a bar...
> OK... oh Christ,
GAVOK <Jesus>: I gave you a win over Ryu! Stop bugging me!
> did I really say that to Janet?
TBS <Gryphon>: All your base are belong to us!
> I hope she doesn't remember it.
RACE <Janet>: "Carouse?" Nobody carouses anymore; it just isn't cool.
[SnotNote: Or alternate...]
RACE <Janet>: Oh? Does Mister RenFaire want to *carouse?*
S.D <Cammy>: Oh, excuse me while I *pull up a pew,* huh?
ARL <Ken>: Oh, *prithee* and *Hey Nonny Nonny* gentle coz!
MMK <Gryphon>: All right! I confess! I was never cool! Forgive me!
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good.
GAVOK: Behold, the remake of a 1980's classic, "Escape from Hangover."
ARL: It was "Escape from Absolom."
GAVOK: Wasn't that a cooking show?
> In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
ARL: Sure he was beaten senseless, but it was a *polite* beating, damn it!
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found
GAVOK: --Charlie wearing a lampshade on his head. Ironically, it looked more normal than his haircut.
> Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks,
MMK <Zoner>: Psst! Fangirl clogged the toilet!
> though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
S.D.: That's what you get for buying low-quality handcuffs.
RACE: ...okay, now do you mean that in a "Ryu's trapped by Sakura" way,
or a "Ryu and Sakura had kinky sex" way?
S.D.: Yes.
[S.D. smirks. RACE fumes.]
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
S.D <Sakura>: Oh, Mom and Dad don't like me taking in strays.
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
MMK <Tom Servo as Spock>: I'm not going back, Jim.
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
RACE: Samuel L. Jackson in... THE PHONE CALL!
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
MMK <James T. Kirk>: I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky...
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
TBS: Wasn't that a book about how New Zealand's kids are being dumbed down by television?
GAVOK: No, that's the Great Brain Robbery.
TBS: Then it was a famous real-life crime committed by Ronnie Biggs
MMK: You know full well that was the Great *Train* robbery.
TBS: Oh. Then it must've been a 1984 Burt Reynold's vehicle with Jackie Chan and Tony Danza in it.
RACE: Actually, he's right.
ARL: It was "Cannonball Run II" and you *all* know it.
GAVOK: Snot's word is law, remember?
ARL: I hate you all.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
GAVOK: And Scott Baio as Chachi.
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and while I'm in the area, I might as well pick up a copy of "Munchkin."
ARL: That's... strangely apropos.
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
RACE <Gryphon>: You too good for your home!? ANSWER ME!
[SnotNote: Wasn't it 'You too good for your home? GO TO YOUR HOME!']
GAVOK <Sakura>: Home? I have no home. Hunted... despised... living like
an animal. The jungle is my home. For fifteen years I have lived in
this-
ARL: Alright, that's enough.
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
MMK <Ryan>: ...my pants.
> that bag.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Why is your duffle bag vibrating?
> I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
RACE [Jack Kerouac]: For it'e the Road that defines our nation in this time, the spirit of travel that claims people for it's own and they make the Road their home and boon companion...
[SnotNote: I wanted to steal some of the dialogue from the Quantum Leap ep where Sam meets Kerouac, but couldn't find a script...]
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
ARL: Sean and Shingo.
RACE: He doesn't know how good he has it... to be blessed with such
a wonderful, wonderful daughter!
S.D.: Ooh, yeah, his daughter is the token fanservice for fat, pimply
American arcade hounds and lecherous Japanese salarymen! REAL prestigious...
RACE <twitching>: It's almost as if you *want* me to hurt you...
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets.
S.D. <Gryphon>: It'll break your hand.
> Even for someone
> with your skills,
[RACEWING and S.D RYUKAGE pull out pistols and simultaneously hold them to each other's head.]
RACE, S.D: Make that joke and die.
> at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
TBS <Zoner>: Yeah, we're gonna *spit-roast* her!
[S.D and RACE both shoot TBS many, many times.]
TBS: Ouch. Worth it. Ouch.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough
enough to hack it,
GAVOK <Sakura>: 3y3 y4m 31337, d4mn j00!!!!!1!11
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks?
MMK [Sakura]: Call my folks what? [Rimshot]
> I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back."
TBS <Sakura>: If you had a recipt, then maybe it would be a different story...
> "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
ARL: Particuarly since there wasn't even a "Moshi moshi" to start it off.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...but I'm having trouble finding a box big enough...
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied. >She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Cable modem, upgraded from a 56k a couple weeks ago.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion.
RACE: Don't even *joke* about that, you son of a-
S.D. <to ARL>: I love rabid fandoms, don't you?
> >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass.
GAVOK: Care to test that theory?
[GAVOK holds up a large-mouth bass.]
ARL: Where'd you get that fish?
GAVOK: What fish?
[The bass disappears in a puff of smoke. ARL blinks.]
ARL: ...right.
> >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits.
MMK: He also speaks fluent Sanskrit, Latin, and Mexican.
ARL: You mean Spanish.
TBS: He knows what he said.
ARL: YOU stay out of this.
>I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano,
TBS <Mr. Kasugano>: Well, she has a room full of _Nakayoshi_ and _Hana to Yume_, but I've a shelf of _Mister Magazine_ and _Shuman Gold_ -- um, you didn't hear that last bit.
> but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street,
S.D [Gryphon]: Not without Guido standing by in the limo just in case...
RACE: Kill. You. Must. Kill. Yes.
> but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame!
ARL: So if Remy had kids...
> You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
RACE: So if Mojo Jojo had kids...
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly.
RACE <Kasugano>: The long-distance rates are a bitch and a half, lemme tell you.
> >Good day.<
S.D [Gandalf]: Do you mean this is a day to be good on, or do you wish me a good day, or are you trying to get rid of me?
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
GAVOK <phone>: Hey, man, I'm just the messenger.
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
MMK <Sakura>: To a place where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm root beer and the towels are oh so FLUFFY!
[*DING!*]
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
MMK: *gasp* Flaw? With Gryphon? Wow!
TBS: Yeah, you get five building points for taking a strict moral code.
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
S.D. <Gryphon as Peppermint Patty>: That's not a cash balance -- that's sarcasm!
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
[GAVOK opens his mouth.]
RACE: [glares] Don't push me.
MMK <Rap Master Binky>: --'cause I'm close to the edge. I've been reincarnated as a very small trimmed hedge.
[RACE facepalms.]
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set,
ARL [Gryphon]: I tried to tell him his face would stay like that if the wind changed...
> I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
GAVOK [Gryphon]: Greedo was robbed! Robbed I tell you!
MMK [Zoner]: Whatever.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow.
TBS <eyes>: No!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow, damn you!
TBS <eyes>: You're not the boss of me, bitch!
GAVOK <Sakura>: GODDAMNIT! DO IT!!
TBS <eyes>: Woah. Okay then.
ARL: We almost went an entire episode without that line, and you had to go stuff it up. Thanks SO much...
GAVOK, TBS: You're Welcome!
[ARL sighs and shakes his head sadly.]
> and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her.
RACE <Sakura>: Breast Inspector?
> "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
MMK <singing>: Just call 36-24-36, hey, I lead a life of crime!
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
TBS <Bester>: Be seeing you. [gives Village salute]
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant."
RACE: Just what the hell are you saying? She wouldn't resort to... to...
MMK: ...working at McDonalds?
RACE: NO!
[pause]
RACE: Wait, what?
> With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
GAVOK [Gryphon]: No, wait! Take this rubber duckie! There are many other bath toys for young girls and none of them are pleasant!
TBS [Zoner]: No, wait! Drink this soda! There are many carbonated beverages out there and none of them are pleasant!
GAVOK [Gryphon]: No, wait! Take my umbrella! There are few umbrellas in this earthquake ravaged city and none of them are pleasant!
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply, and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
MMK <Gryphon>: Jesus, you've been sleeping on our couch for way too long!
[SnotNote: He's living on our couch, with the urine.]
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts.
TBS <Gryphon>: Angst angst angst brood brood brood fluffy bunnies angst
angst brood brood...
RACE <Gryphon>: How come I can never get past 450 metres on Mr. Digger? Why, dammit, world, why?
> Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
MMK <Gryphon>: I can't help it if I love interpretive dance!
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
GAVOK: ...and karma. Lots and lots of karma.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
MMK: Well, at least Fury's happy.
THE LOONS: Yay Fury.
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
TBS <Gryphon>: Hey Zoner, can you go buy me a skirt and women's underwear? I want to try something.
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics",
S.D [Gryphon]: He was holding it horizontal again. I worry about that boy.
> as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
S.D <Gryphon>: What do you mean you'll drive? You can't even hold a magazine right!
[SnotNote: Or is it more subtle if you nix my earlier ref?]
S.D. <G-Man>: It'sssss time to choose, Missssster Freeman...
> I awoke slowly - more so than usual -
GAVOK <Gryphon>: One eye open... then the other... yawn...
>and spent an
> inordinate amount of time sorting out the memories of the previous
> day.
MMK <Gryphon>: Oh crap, I forgot to turn off the oven!
TBS <Gryphon>: I just remembered! I was a half-dragon, half-elven princess in a past life!
ARL: I call no more Otherkin jokes.
TBS: Fair enough.
> Two fights, a big meal and a lengthy carouse.
RACE: Walk into a bar...
> OK... oh Christ,
GAVOK <Jesus>: I gave you a win over Ryu! Stop bugging me!
> did I really say that to Janet?
TBS <Gryphon>: All your base are belong to us!
> I hope she doesn't remember it.
RACE <Janet>: "Carouse?" Nobody carouses anymore; it just isn't cool.
[SnotNote: Or alternate...]
RACE <Janet>: Oh? Does Mister RenFaire want to *carouse?*
S.D <Cammy>: Oh, excuse me while I *pull up a pew,* huh?
ARL <Ken>: Oh, *prithee* and *Hey Nonny Nonny* gentle coz!
MMK <Gryphon>: All right! I confess! I was never cool! Forgive me!
> A quick systems check indicated that I'd managed to escape a
> hangover, which was good.
GAVOK: Behold, the remake of a 1980's classic, "Escape from Hangover."
ARL: It was "Escape from Absolom."
GAVOK: Wasn't that a cooking show?
> In fact, I felt pretty good for a guy who'd
> had the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him the day before. That's
> what comes of being drubbed by a considerate professional.
ARL: Sure he was beaten senseless, but it was a *polite* beating, damn it!
> I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a pair of decently unratty
> shorts, brushed my teeth, and prowled into the living room, expecting
> to find the last of our guests gone and the house quiet again.
> Instead, I found
GAVOK: --Charlie wearing a lampshade on his head. Ironically, it looked more normal than his haircut.
> Sakura Kasugano, who was just in the process of
> pulling the drawstring on her duffel bag shut. As I entered the room,
> Zoner, who was standing near the corner, shot me one of those warning
> looks,
MMK <Zoner>: Psst! Fangirl clogged the toilet!
> though the reason didn't register on me at the time.
> "Heading out?" I asked.
> "Yep," Sakura replied. "Ryu left before I got up - I have to
> get moving if I want to catch him."
S.D.: That's what you get for buying low-quality handcuffs.
RACE: ...okay, now do you mean that in a "Ryu's trapped by Sakura" way,
or a "Ryu and Sakura had kinky sex" way?
S.D.: Yes.
[S.D. smirks. RACE fumes.]
> "Catch him? You aren't going home?"
S.D <Sakura>: Oh, Mom and Dad don't like me taking in strays.
> Sakura snorted. "I wouldn't be welcome, not after coming all
> the way over here. Not that I care much anyway... it was time I got
> out of there."
> "You don't want to go back?" I asked, incredulous.
> "That's right," said Sakura, folding her arms and looking
> determined. "I don't want to go back."
>
MMK <Tom Servo as Spock>: I'm not going back, Jim.
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
RACE: Samuel L. Jackson in... THE PHONE CALL!
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
MMK <James T. Kirk>: I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky...
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 04: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
TBS: Wasn't that a book about how New Zealand's kids are being dumbed down by television?
GAVOK: No, that's the Great Brain Robbery.
TBS: Then it was a famous real-life crime committed by Ronnie Biggs.
MMK: You know full well that was the Great *Train* robbery.
TBS: Oh. Then it must've been a 1984 Burt Reynold's vehicle with Jackie Chan and Tony Danza in it.
RACE: Actually, he's right.
ARL: It was "Cannonball Run II" and you *all* know it.
GAVOK: Snot's word is law, remember?
ARL: I hate you all.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
GAVOK: And Scott Baio as Chachi.
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
> and a bit of cadging from Warehouse 23
> <http://www.sjgames.com/warehouse23/>
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and while I'm in the area, I might as well pick up a copy of "Munchkin."
ARL: That's... strangely apropos.
>
> (c) 1998 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> "Wait a minute, what do you mean, you don't want to go back?
> You have to go back, it's your home!"
RACE <Gryphon>: You too good for your home!? ANSWER ME!
[SnotNote: Wasn't it 'You too good for your home? GO TO YOUR HOME!']
GAVOK <Sakura>: Home? I have no home. Hunted... despised... living like
an animal. The jungle is my home. For fifteen years I have lived in
this-
ARL: Alright, that's enough.
> Zoner shot me a glare that said he wasn't buying that line,
> and doubted she would either.
> "No it isn't," she replied, her eyes dark and serious. "It's
> just a place where I used to sleep. Everything I really need is in
MMK <Ryan>: ...my pants.
> that bag.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Why is your duffle bag vibrating?
> I can take care of myself on the road... just like Ryu."
RACE [Jack Kerouac]: For it's the Road that defines our nation in this time, the spirit of travel that claims people for it's own and they make the Road their home and boon companion...
[SnotNote: I wanted to steal some of the dialogue from the Quantum Leap ep where Sam meets Kerouac, but couldn't find a script...]
> "Won't your parents miss you?"
> Sakura snorted. "Not likely. My father
GAVOK: ...is an Olympic Skeetshooting gold medalist.
>would throw a party
> if I didn't come home. Half the time he doesn't even notice me, and
> the other half he wishes he had two sons."
ARL: Sean and Shingo.
RACE: He doesn't know how good he has it... to be blessed with such
a wonderful, wonderful daughter!
S.D.: Ooh, yeah, his daughter is the token fanservice for fat, pimply
American arcade hounds and lecherous Japanese salarymen! REAL prestigious...
RACE <twitching>: It's almost as if you *want* me to hurt you...
> "Well... " I paused, realized I was at a loss, and sighed,
> frustrated. "Look, you can't just hit the streets.
S.D. <Gryphon>: It'll break your hand.
> Even for someone
> with your skills,
[RACEWING and S.D RYUKAGE pull out pistols and simultaneously hold them to each other's head.]
RACE, S.D: Make that joke and die.
> at your age it's just not safe."
> "So what do you care?"
> "You might just be surprised," Zoner interjected before
> Sakura's look made him think the better of getting in the middle of
> this one.
TBS <Zoner>: Yeah, we're gonna *spit-roast* her!
[S.D and RACE both shoot TBS many, many times.]
TBS: Ouch. Worth it. Ouch.
> "I don't want you to get hurt, believe it or not!" I replied,
> then paused again, trying to calm down. I didn't want to lose my
> temper with her - that would just make her leave, and I really didn't
> want her to get hurt. She thought she was tough
enough to hack it,
GAVOK <Sakura>: 3y3 y4m 31337, d4mn j00!!!!!1!11
> and it's even possible she was, but it wouldn't be a pleasant
> experience for her either way.
> "Listen," I said after regaining control. "Will you at least
> let me call your folks?
MMK [Sakura]: Call my folks what? [Rimshot]
> I can't imagine any parent not wanting their
> child to come home."
GAVOK: Hey, Gryphon, how're your folks at home?
> She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you want, but I'm
> telling you, they -don't- want me back."
TBS <Sakura>: If you had a recipt, then maybe it would be a different story...
> "Dad's probably at work, go ahead and call him if
> you want. But you're wasting your time," she added.
> "Well," I replied, "it's my time to waste." I picked up the
> phone, dialed the number, punched the extension when a voicemail
> system answered, and hoped.
> "Kasugano," a man's voice answered, gruffly, after two rings.
> Ack. I hate opening phone conversations, and this one
> promised to be more awkward than most.
ARL: Particuarly since there wasn't even a "Moshi moshi" to start it off.
> >Er... hello, Mr. Kasugano,< I said, frantically dusting off
> my Japanese. I probably sounded like an idiot, but I've found that
> many Japanese will at least give you points for making the effort.
> >My name is Benjamin Hutchins, I'm calling you from the United
> States.<
S.D. <Gryphon, mumbling>: --collect.
> >Yes?< he replied, in a tone of voice that added, "Spit it
> out, I haven't got all day."
> >Ah... yes. Well, uh... This is kind of awkward, but... I,
> uh, I have your daughter here, and I'd like to send her home.<
GAVOK <Gryphon>: ...but I'm having trouble finding a box big enough...
> >If this is some kind of a joke - < Mr. Kasugano began, outrage
> creeping into his tone.
> >No joke, Mr. Kasugano,< I replied.
MMK <Gryphon>: If you don't send in five hundred million yen in unmarked bills by... [checks watch] five p.m., I'm going to send her back to you.
>>She turned up here
> Saturday evening, and... well, now she's at a bit of a loose end.<
> Zoner cringed a bit; I suppose I could have phrased that
> better.
> >You mean she's given up chasing after that lowlife street
> fighter?<
> I suppressed my natural reaction at such an unkind
> generalization, especially toward a friend of mine, and replied,
> >Uh... In a manner of speaking... <
> >What is -your- connection, then?< he snapped.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Cable modem, upgraded from a 56k a couple weeks ago.
> His peremptory tone was beginning to grate on me, so I'm
> afraid I was less than 99-44/100% smooth, replying dryly, >I'm the guy
> she came here to see that lowlife street fighter fight.<
> >I see,< he replied, his tone chilly. >And she's been staying
> with you?<
> >In my guest room,< I qualified, in case he was drawing -that-
> conclusion.
RACE: Don't even *joke* about that, you son of a-
S.D. <to ARL>: I love rabid fandoms, don't you?
> >Since Saturday evening, yes.<
> >I see,< he repeated, tone even colder. He paused, then
> replied flatly, >Then I wish you well of her. Good day.<
> I couldn't have been more shocked if somebody had cuffed me
> upside the head with a large-mouthed bass.
GAVOK: Care to test that theory?
[GAVOK holds up a large-mouth bass.]
ARL: Where'd you get that fish?
GAVOK: What fish?
[The bass disappears in a puff of smoke. ARL blinks.]
ARL: ...right.
> >Wa, wah, wait a minute,
> what?!< I blurted, managing to keep him from hanging up right away.
> >Sakura is no longer welcome in my home,< replied Mr. Kasugano
> flatly. >If you choose to take her into yours, then I hope for your
> sake she is more thoughtful of you than she was of her own family.
> Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.<
> >Hold it, hold it!< I replied. My Japanese, I noticed, was
> becoming smoother as I got more agitated - a good sign that I hadn't
> let it get too rusty between visits.
MMK: He also speaks fluent Sanskrit, Latin, and Mexican.
ARL: You mean Spanish.
TBS: He knows what he said.
ARL: YOU stay out of this.
>I don't know what issues you
> and your kids have, Mr. Kasugano,
TBS <Mr. Kasugano>: Well, she has a room full of _Nakayoshi_ and _Hana to Yume_, but I've a shelf of _Mister Magazine_ and _Shuman Gold_ -- um, you didn't hear that last bit.
> but it's none of my affair! She
> turned up on the eve of my fight with Ryu and I gave her a place to
> sleep because I'm not the kind of guy who puts little girls out in the
> street,
S.D. [Gryphon]: Not without Guido standing by in the limo just in case...
RACE: Kill. You. Must. Kill. Yes.
> but I'm not looking to adopt a kid just yet. She's your
> daughter - you can't just give her away!<
RACE: I'll take her!
> >She has been a constant source of disappointment and anguish
> to me and to her mother,< Kasugano growled. >And YOU PEOPLE are to
> blame!
ARL: So if Remy had kids...
> You street fighters have made her what she is - now she is
> YOUR problem. Not mine! Not any more! I wash my hands of her. I
> have no daughter.<
RACE: So if Mojo Jojo had kids...
> >You can't DO that!<
> >Do not call me again,< said Kasugano flatly.
RACE <Kasugano>: The long-distance rates are a bitch and a half, lemme tell you.
> >Good day.<
S.D [Gandalf]: Do you mean this is a day to be good on, or do you wish me a good day, or are you trying to get rid of me?
> Click.
> I stared at the phone for several seconds in mute
> incomprehension, which gave way slowly to a wave of red-hot rage that,
> as it peaked, made me slam the phone into its cradle so hard the bell
> rang.
> "Son of a BITCH!"
GAVOK <phone>: Hey, man, I'm just the messenger.
> "That could have gone better," Zoner observed.
> "See?" said Sakura. "I told you."
> I looked at her, spread my hands helplessly. I had nothing to
> say to that. She picked up her bag with studied nonchalance, threw it
> over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
> "Well, so long. Thanks for everything."
> "Wait," I said, trotting across the kitchen to keep up with
> her. "Where will you go?"
MMK <Sakura>: To a place where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm root beer and the towels are oh so FLUFFY!
[*DING!*]
> "What do you care?" she replied.
> I shrugged, exasperated. "Call it a character flaw."
MMK: *gasp* Flaw? With Gryphon? Wow!
TBS: Yeah, you get five building points for taking a strict moral code.
> I hadn't noticed Zoner beside me until he spoke. "We're just
> caring guys. Not everyone you meet is an asshole, just most. Call us
> crazy, but we worry about our friends. Even if we have just met."
> "The bus station, if you must know."
> "I see. How much money do you have?"
> "Umm... " She pulled out her change purse and counted.
> "Seven fifty-three."
S.D. <Gryphon as Peppermint Patty>: That's not a cash balance -- that's sarcasm!
> "Uh-huh. Well, you should be able to make it all the way
> to... oh... " I paused and looked thoughtful. "... the other side of
> the bus station parking lot or so, on that." She glared. "OK, let's
> take another tack on this. Where were you planning on catching a bus
> to, or had you worked that out yet?"
> She shrugged. "I dunno. Boston, maybe. Or New York."
> "To do what?"
[GAVOK opens his mouth.]
RACE: [glares] Don't push me.
MMK <Rap Master Binky>: --'cause I'm close to the edge. I've been reincarnated as a very small trimmed hedge.
[RACE facepalms.]
> "... I dunno, exactly. What does it matter? You don't want
> me here any more than my father wants me back."
> "Would you believe me if I told you that wasn't true?"
MMK <Gryphon>: We need a maid. This place is a pig-sty!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Plus, you cook a mean teppanyaki.
[RACE twitches.]
RACE: Why must you make me wait for the other shoe to drop?
> Would -I-? Zoner's jaw was set,
ARL [Gryphon]: I tried to tell him his face would stay like that if the wind changed...
> I took that to mean he agreed
> with my statement.
GAVOK [Gryphon]: Greedo was robbed! Robbed I tell you!
MMK [Zoner]: Whatever.
> She looked long and hard at me, and for a moment, I thought
> I'd really gotten through; but then her eyes narrowed stubbornly
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow.
TBS <eyes>: No!
GAVOK <Sakura>: Narrow, damn you!
TBS <eyes>: You're not the boss of me, bitch!
GAVOK <Sakura>: GODDAMNIT! DO IT!!
TBS <eyes>: Woah. Okay then.
ARL: We almost went an entire episode without that line, and you had to go stuff it up. Thanks SO much...
GAVOK, TBS: You're Welcome!
[ARL sighs and shakes his head sadly.]
> and
> she replied, "Yeah, as if. See you around."
> "All right, I won't try to stop you from leaving. But I don't
> think it's a good idea." I dug one of my cards out of my wallet and
> gave it to her.
RACE <Sakura>: Breast Inspector?
> "Keep this. If you need anything, call me anytime."
MMK <singing>: Just call 36-24-36, hey, I lead a life of crime!
> I wished I had some money to give her, too, but as it happened the
> previous evening's extravagance had left me cashless.
> She gave me a sidelong look.
> "Anytime," I repeated.
> She cracked the faintest hint of a smile. "OK, I'll take it.
> See you."
TBS <Bester>: Be seeing you. [gives Village salute]
> "Hold it," Zoner added. Sakura looked ready to fight if he
> tried to stop her; Zoner held up a hand to show he wasn't going to
> try. "Here, take this - and I won't take no for an answer. If you
> won't stay, you're going to let us help you somehow. There are few
> ways an attractive underage woman can make money; none are very
> pleasant."
RACE: Just what the hell are you saying? She wouldn't resort to... to...
MMK: ...working at McDonalds?
RACE: NO!
[pause]
RACE: Wait, what?
> With that he pressed a few bills into her hand. Looked
> like a couple of hundred.
GAVOK [Gryphon]: No, wait! Take this rubber duckie! There are many other bath toys for young girls and none of them are pleasant!
TBS [Zoner]: No, wait! Drink this soda! There are many carbonated beverages out there and none of them are pleasant!
GAVOK [Gryphon]: No, wait! Take my umbrella! There are few umbrellas in this earthquake ravaged city and none of them are pleasant!
> I showed her out, and as the door closed, I turned and slumped
> against it, looking at Zoner.
> "She'll be back," he said simply,
S.D. <Gryphon>: Once she'd had the old Gryphster, she's gonna be wanting more!
[RACE grits his teeth audibly.]
>and went to his room.
> "Christ," I muttered.
MMK <Gryphon>: Jesus, you've been sleeping on our couch for way too long!
[SnotNote: He's living on our couch, with the urine.]
>
> Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the den, staring
> morosely out the picture window at the rain and thinking bleak
> thoughts.
TBS <Gryphon>: Angst angst angst brood brood brood fluffy bunnies angst
angst brood brood...
RACE <Gryphon>: How come I can never get past 450 metres on Mr. Digger? Why, dammit, world, why?
> Considering the luck of the draw. My parents love me,
> although they don't really understand me or my need to do what I do.
MMK <Gryphon>: I can't help it if I love interpretive dance!
> My mother doesn't approve, but she would never turn her back on me.
> Even if the unthinkable were to happen, I'm out on my own, fairly
> well-established, with a sizable nest egg in the bank and a good
> income from the interest. Wipe that out and I'm left with a network
> of friends, good friends, all around the globe. What did Sakura have?
> A pretty good grasp of something resembling Shotokan karate, a handful
> of money, a passport and my telephone number.
GAVOK: ...and karma. Lots and lots of karma.
> I couldn't help but feel that I had done the wrong thing
> letting her walk out of the house like that... but if she didn't want
> to stay, it was hardly right to make her...
> ... wasn't it?
> I sighed, turned away from the window and lay down on the
> couch, draping an arm over the side to scratch Fury's ears. He made a
> contented noise and leaned a little closer to the sofa.
MMK: Well, at least Fury's happy.
THE LOONS: Yay, Fury!
> I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be a teenaged girl
> abandoned by her family, all alone in the world.
> But that didn't stop me from trying...
TBS <Gryphon>: Hey Zoner, can you go buy me a skirt and women's underwear? I want to try something.
> I sighed again and got up, cursing under my breath. Zoner
> looked up from the kitchen table, where he was perusing his newest
> issue of "Popular Mechanics",
S.D [Gryphon]: He was holding it horizontal again. I worry about that boy.
> as I passed through the room, muttering
> darkly and pulling on my outback oilskin, Fury trotting at my heels.
> "Can't leave it alone, can you?" he said matter-of-factly.
> "No," I replied, grabbing the matching hat from the hatstand by
> the door. "I can't."
> "Me neither," said Zoner, standing up and dropping the
> magazine. "I'll drive."
S.D <Gryphon>: What do you mean you'll drive? You can't even hold a magazine right!
[SnotNote: Or is it more subtle if you nix my earlier ref?]
Chapter 4B: Hell (or at least petty street crime) Comes To Worcester.
by
>
> THIRD-PERSON INTERLUDE
> MAIN STREET, WORCESTER
> NEAR THE FEDERAL BLDG.
>
> It started to sink in as Sakura walked up Elm Street, and by
> the time she was halfway to the bus station, she was so mad at her
> father that she couldn't see straight.
> Where does he get off? she asked herself. I mean, it's not
> like I do drugs or anything like that. So I like the martial arts, so
> I want to learn from the best there is. What's wrong with that? I'll
> tell you this much, if it was my brother doing this, Pop sure as hell
> wouldn't disown -him-. He'd be overjoyed that his son was following
> such a manly path. But his daughter? An embarrassment.
> To hell with him anyway, she thought as she turned the corner
> onto Main Street. Who needs him?
> Just then, the grey, threatening sky stopped threatening and
> started raining. Perfect, thought Sakura. Just exactly what I
> needed.
> She was so wrapped up in becoming steadily angrier at her
> father that she didn't even see the guy walk out of the alley behind
> the Federal Building until she ran into him. That flustered her so
> much she started apologizing in Japanese before she remembered where
> she was.
> "Oh! Gomen - er, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
> "Well, hey there, sailor girl," he said with a smile, taking a
> couple of steps back and looking her over. Sakura didn't like the
> look on his face. Come to that, she didn't like his face much; it was
> wide and oily. In fact, "wide and oily" describes the whole person
> pretty well; he had on a greasy t-shirt that looked too small for his
> shoulder muscles and jeans that had seen better decades. "New in
> town?" he continued, and his grin changed to a leer.
> Harsh laughter from behind Sakura; she stole a glance over her
> shoulder to see another, similar but shorter guy stepping around the
> corner of the building. She realized she must have walked right past
> him on that side of the building before turning the corner herself.
> "Yeah," chortled the shorter one. "New."
> Two to one, hmm? thought Sakura. I've dealt with worse.
> "Not for long," she replied. "Soon as I can catch a bus, I'm
> out of this dump."
> "Aww, leaving so soon?" the one in front asked, stepping
> closer. Sakura stood her ground, concentrating on the rhythm of her
> breathing, her heartbeat, her center. "Hey, I've got an idea," the
> man in front of her said. "Why don't you stay a while and party with
> my friend and me?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one behind me. "Party."
> Perhaps unfortunately, Sakura didn't feel she was in any
> danger. In fact, given the day she'd had, she was looking forward to
> what was developing here. She could feel her ki pulsing in time with
> her heartbeat, so she gathered it.
> "No thanks," she said. "Got a bus to catch and all. Maybe
> next time I'm in town."
> "Oh, well, y'know, how do we know we're gonna be in town when
> you're here next?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one. "In town."
> That little habit was starting to get on her nerves.
> "You got anyplace else to be?" Sakura asked the taller one.
> "Not really," he replied.
> "Well, there you go," she replied. "I do. So if you'll excuse
> me... "
> "Now honey," he said, and moved a little closer. He was
> trying to back Sakura into his friend, but she wasn't giving ground;
> looking a little impressed, he backed up again and put his hand on her
> shoulder. "That's no way to be," he continued. "All we want is for
> you to stay and party with us for a while, and then you can go and do
> what you want. I mean, it's a dangerous city, Worcester. You don't
> play your cards right, you could get hurt."
> "Yeah," said the shorter one, "play," as the taller one
> tightened his grip on her shoulder until it hurt.
> All right, I've had enough of this crap, said Sakura to
> herself. She took a half-step back, twisted her shoulder out of the
> tall one's grip in the process of backstepping into a fighting stance,
> and right on schedule she felt her ki surge and her hands tingle.
> "HADOKEN!" she cried, thrusting her hands forward, and the
> fireball burst out, smashing into the tall one's chest and face and
> knocking him sprawling on his back. Stepping into the follow-through,
> Sakura turned to face the short one.
> "Wha' th' fu' - ?" he blurted.
> Ooh, thought Sakura, handsome -and- articulate! Just the way
> I like them.
> He lunged at her and tasted one of her shoes as she snapped a
> high kick under his chin. Staggering back, he wiped at his bloody
> lip.
> "Hey!" he cried. "That hurt!"
> "Yeah," Sakura replied, "hurt. SHO-OKEN!" It wasn't quite a
> perfect Rising Dragon Fist, but Sakura's version of the classic
> Shotokan uppercut did the job anyway, drilling the short one straight
> into unconsciousness.
> Dusting off her hands, Sakura turned to resume her journey to
> the bus station.
> And skidded right back to a stop again.
> The tall one was back on his feet already, singed and dazed,
> but conscious... and three other guys were filling up the sidewalk
> behind him.
> -Now- Sakura was beginning to feel a little threatened, but
> she put it aside as they rushed her. This part of the brawl started
> out pretty well for her, really, but her concentration started to fall
> apart before she'd taken even one of them down - a combination of her
> own rising panic as it began to dawn on her what they would do to her
> if they won, and fatigue. It had been a longer day, and a more tiring
> journey, than she thought.
> Get it together, Sakura, she told herself as she barely
> avoided getting clipped by one of their fists. Get it together or
> you're going to lose, and this is no friendly sparring match. You
> wanted to be a street fighter, girl... here you are. Get it --
> Together!
> She spun on one heel, lifting into the air. "Shunpuu -
> KYAKU!" Truth to tell, she wasn't entirely happy with this move
> either - it only turned her around once, it wasn't much of a Rising
> Cyclone Kick - but it worked well enough to lay out the one in the
> orange shirt. The one in blue lunged; Sakura caught his arm and swung
> his face into the side of the Federal Building. She turned and
> squared off with the tall guy and his one remaining helper, this one
> in a green t-shirt, and grinned.
> "Some party, huh?" she started to ask, but she only got about
> as far as "par" before
> POW
> the back of her head exploded, or at least, that's how it
> felt. The world turned red and black, winking out entirely for an
> instant, then returning as a huge, echoing chamber full of red fog and
> pain. Sakura felt a second impact in the small of her back, then a
> third as she crashed to the sidewalk on her chin. Waves of nausea
> rolled over her like breaking surf. She struggled to get up, keep
> fighting, but she felt like she was chained to the ground. She could
> feel rather than see them close in on her...
> Somewhere nearby, there was the sound of a powerful engine, the
> squeal of tires, and the metallic clunk of a car door, followed by a
> voice Sakura hazily thought she recognized:
> "Back away from the girl right now and I won't hurt you."
> Tramping feet, defiant sounds. Sakura dragged herself to her
> elbows and knees and tried to open her eyes.
> "Fine, have it your way."
> As a strange coughing sound reached Sakura's ears, her eyes
> opened. She focused dimly on the sidewalk, then looked up in time to
> see Shorty sprawl on his back, a two-by-four with its end oddly
> splintered clattering from his slack hands. A few feet away, MegaZone
> was standing halfway out of the door of a black Suburban pulled up
> onto the curb, a gun with what looked like a spray can on the end in
> his hand.
> Then the wet pavement spiraled up at Sakura as she blacked out
> again.
>
> MZ
> While I encouraged the losers' retreat with my Glock, Ben ran
> around the back of the Suburban to kneel by Sakura as she slumped to
> the ground again. She didn't look good - her skin was a foreboding
> shade of grey, her school uniform torn and dirty, with a spatter of
> blood down the front of the tunic from the cuts on her chin. "Oh
> bloody hell," I muttered, unscrewing the custom-made sound suppressor
> from the end of the gun and putting both away as he carried her to the
> truck and laid her gently on the back seat.
> I sat down on the edge of the seat and put my fingers to
> Sakura's throat, looking for her carotid pulse. I found it easily,
> and was relieved to find it strong and regular, like her breathing.
> If nothing else, she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. Her
> color was bad, though, and who knew what could result from a head
> injury like that?
> Sure, Ryu and Ben and their fellow fighters make their living
> knocking each other out, and there's an obvious danger involved with
> that. But at their skill level especially, they have such an intimate
> knowledge of their abilities and the way their bodies work that they
> can do it carefully. Any decent fighter on the circuit knows how to
> take even a knockout blow with minimal damage, and the honorable ones
> know how to throw a knockout blow with care as well, oxymoronic as
> that sounds.
> A common street thug with a two-by-four, on the other hand,
> isn't likely to be as careful or as skilled, and Sakura was both
> inexperienced and taken by surprise. Gryph I glanced at each other,
> and didn't need to elaborate on the message we exchanged with that
> brief eye contact. We were both deeply worried.
> They'd only just met the day before yesterday... for that
> matter, I'd only just met her the day before yesterday myself. And
> yet I was easily as worried as Ben. Neither of us even like kids.
> We went straight to the maze of streets that crawl up Bancroft
> Hill near WPI, as fast as I could safely get the Suburban to go, then
> pulled up at a familiar house. As I entered the house's foyer
> (Gryphon behind me, cradling Sakura in his arms like a big rag doll),
> the jangling bell on the door summoned Dr. Joachim Mueller from the
> back of the house. As he entered the foyer, he recognized us
> immediately, and took in the sight of the three of us impassively.
> Dr. Mueller has known Gryph and I long enough to take this kind of
> thing in stride.
> "Well, well," he murmured, patting his large hands together.
> "You find the most interesting things for old Doctor Mueller to
> handle, don't you?"
> Tall, white-haired, and patrician, Dr. Mueller is from
> Germany, and it still echoes in his English today. He left Germany as
> a young medical student in the late 1930s, just before Hitler plunged
> the nation into the insanity that was the Second World War. Now in
> his late seventies, he was mostly retired, but as an old friend of my
> family's, he still came out from time to time to patch me or Gryph up
> after our less than reportable injuries. I trusted his skills and his
> discretion implicitly.
> "Well, what's the story with this one?" he asked as he led us
> to the guest bedroom he used as an exam room for his infrequent
> visitors and gestured for Gryph to put Sakura down on the bed.
> Gryph and I between us told him as much of the story as we knew.
> Dr. Mueller raised an eyebrow when we got to the part about Gryph's
> ill-fated call to Sakura's father, but he said only, "Mmm, your day is
> just beginning to get complicated, then," as he bent over the guest bed.
> "Pulse is good... breathing is strong. Hello? Young lady, can you hear
> me?" He took a penlight out of his pocket, gently pried open one of
> Sakura's eyes, and shone the light in.
> She blinked, flinched, and then settled slowly into the
> mattress and pillows with a long, descending groan.
> "Pupil reaction is good," mused Dr. Mueller to himself as he
> returned the pen to his pocket. "How do you feel, young lady?"
> "Like a Texaco tank truck ran over me," Sakura replied
> weakly, "backed up, and ran over me again."
> "Well, you remember your English, that's a good sign," Mueller
> replied. "Whenever I get clonked on the head, first thing I do, I
> start speaking in German again."
> "If I was speaking German," Sakura said with a wan smile, "I'd
> really be in trouble."
> "Well, let's look at your head, now. Sit up, but slowly, or
> you'll make yourself sick."
> Obediently, Sakura sat gingerly up so Mueller could look at
> the back of her head. He gently moved the blood-matted hair out of
> the way with one hand and used the other to wield the penlight again.
> "Mmm... broken skin and a bit of bleeding, but the scalp is fine, and
> you've got a good strong skull, young lady. If there were anything
> seriously wrong, I doubt I would have been able to wake you by simply
> shining a light in your eye. All right, lie back. Are you hurt
> anywhere else?"
> "Right now I hurt all over," she said, leaning her head gently
> back against the pillow.
> "How does your head feel?"
> She considered, then reported with a slightly surprised tone,
> "No worse than the rest of me, really."
> "Also a good sign," said Mueller with a smile. "Well, I don't
> think you've suffered any permanent harm." He turned to me. "Keep an
> eye on her for the rest of today. Don't let her go to sleep until you
> turn in tonight, and only a light dinner is in order. If she gets
> overwhelmingly drowsy, passes out, or becomes incoherent, call me and
> we'll get her over to UMassMed for some X rays. I'll also leave
> cleaning her up to you - I presume you have the medical knowledge
> necessary to clean a few cuts, ja?"
> I nodded, his good humor making me grin. "Thanks, Doctor."
> He waved. "Don't mention it. It's all part of the service."
> Snapping his bag shut, he turned to Sakura again. "Now you be good
> and follow my instructions, and you'll feel much better in the
> morning. All right?"
> She nodded, kind of a lying-down bow. "I will. Thank you."
> Gryph and I helped Sakura out to the Suburban for the trip
> back down the hill. She was a little unsteady, but her strength was
> returning fast, and she was getting her color back, too, by the time
> we got home a few minutes later. I felt a powerful urge to clean my
> gun. It's a habit of mine, when I'm upset and don't have anyone to
> vent it on. Gryph doesn't think I know I do it; the truth is, I do it
> so I won't be able to do anything else with the gun.
> While keeping an eye on Sakura in the living room, Gryph and I
> went to the kitchen to heat up some soup.
> "Well, now what the hell do we do?" Gryph wondered.
> "I have no idea," I replied. I paused before putting the
> soup into the saucepan I had prepared. "She could stay here for a
> while, but... "
> Gryph nodded. "But she doesn't want to."
> I sighed, dumping the soup into the pan and using a wooden spoon
> to scrape out the few noodles stuck to the inside of the can. "Right,"
> I replied. "After all, Ryu's her hero, not us," I added, handing Gryph
> the can to be rinsed and put by the trash. I'm fond of this whole
> recycling thing, although Gryph thinks the stuff all gets thrown in a
> big hole together after it's trucked away anyway. "And just because
> she's welcome doesn't mean she'll stay. We saw proof of that this
> afternoon."
> "She's got talent," Gryph observed. "We were pretty far away
> when the fight started, but I'm pretty sure I saw her throw a hadoken
> at one of them."
> I looked hard at Ben. "She's had how much formal training?"
> "None, as far as I know, unless you count Ryu's two-minute
> explanation-in-layman's-terms of the technique last month."
> I blinked. "Wow. She's got a -lot- of talent."
> "And she's a good kid," Gryph went on, nodding. "A little
> narrow-focused, but... well... I'll have to talk with her about that.
> She reminds me of Chun Li - "
> "I was just about to say that, yeah - "
> "Before her father died and she got all grim and
> revenge-and-justice -"
> "Yeah. Hopefully what happened to her today will open her eyes
> and make her realize that street fighting isn't a game."
> "If she has enough dedication to work out the hadoken on her
> own, she's serious enough to stick with it regardless," Gryph said, a
> warning note in his voice.
> I nodded. "All the better... but she'll need training.
> Unfocused, that talent could become a danger to everyone... and in the
> wrong hands, she could become something truly terrifying."
> Our eyes met, and Ben knew exactly whose hands I was talking
> about. Ryu had fallen into those same hands once, before either of
> them was a World Warrior, and "truly terrifying" is a good description
> of what he had become, for a time.
> "Ryu won't change his mind," Gryph said. "You know how he
> is." He blew a breath out, puffing his cheeks. "All right, look, why
> don't we do it like this. I'll get Rose to come down and look after
> her tomorrow. We can push the timetable on the Area 51 thing up, get
> it out of the way. Once we're back home, I can sit down and figure
> out what the hell I'm going to do with her."
> "-We- can figure out what -we're- going to do," I corrected.
> "Her father didn't make her your responsibility," said Gryph.
> "I don't want to drag you into the mess too... "
> "You're helping me out with this thing for Meg, aren't you?"
> I shrugged. "We're partners. Your problems are my problems."
> He smiled. "Thanks. Have you got the cover story in place
> for the sneak yet?"
> "Well, I -think- I've got it. DARPA has requested Sky Dancer
> and its contents for transfer to an undisclosed research project. If
> anyone digs into it, it looks like it's under the auspicies of the
> CIA. The CIA will pawn it off on NASA for administration. NASA says
> no, that project was transferred, now being run by the NSA and they
> don't have any need to know where it is. If they manage to get the
> NSA to admit to anything, they thought the Air Force had it at Area 51
> but had unmothballed it and was using it for research. The Air Force,
> of course, says no, it was taken for a research project.
> "Now, either they loop around again, or they find the second
> level of misdirection. Seems the Royal Navy wanted to test its
> submersible capabilities. But if you ask them, they don't know
> anything about it, but they've heard MI-5 is up to something with it.
> MI-5 has absolutely nothing to do with it, you must be thinking of
> MI-6. MI-6 sure doesn't have it, but the Royal Air Force and SAS have
> been testing something. Maybe you should check with them. The SAS
> will tell you to bugger off, but the RAF thinks the Royal Navy is
> using it as a technology demonstrator for an SBS project. No, been
> there? Sorry chap, don't know.
> "OK, so that's a dead end. Back to Area 51 to try again. If
> they dig -really- deep they'll find an indication that it went back to
> the manufacturer. Of course, Lockheed hasn't had it since it left the
> Works. Maybe you meant the chief designer on Project Sky Dancer,
> they'd heard that Mr. Hackenbacker was working on a new project. Yes,
> we have a business relationship with him. Sorry, we can't give you
> any details. No, I don't care what clearance you have, I know it
> isn't high enough. Mr. Hackenbacker guards his privacy very
> jealously. Good day.
> "In light of what you set up the other day, I think I'll set
> up a fourth level. The Sky Dancer was transferred to the Quest
> Foundation for an indefinite period of time, for research purposes.
> As for who authorized that, well, I pity the person who'll follow that
> path. What do you think?"
> "I don't want to know how you set it up, but it sounds good.
> As good as we're going to do anyway. How soon can we go?"
> "The sooner the better, I'd like to have it out of there
> before anyone gets curious about the paper trail. But this may just
> be an interesting exercise. We still haven't heard from Meg, after
> all."
> "I suspect Greer'll be pissed if we put him through this for
> nothing," Ben observed.
> "He'll get over it. He's knows what running an op is like,
> things don't always come off the way you planned. Sometimes they
> don't come off at all."
> "Right. I guess there's nothing much for it at the moment,
> then."
> "Oh, one thing. Can you call Quest back and see if they can
> shuttle us back west? I'd like to fly the Prince of Thebes out, but
> we'll be flying Sky Dancer direct to Maine. I'd rather not fly
> commercial back to pick up the Prince. It'd be much faster if they
> can just shoot us back out."
> "I don't think it'll be a problem. I'll call them up after we
> eat."
> "OK... this afternoon, just to cover our bets, I figured I'd
> set up the fourth level of the trail. After that, I don't know. I
> was thinking about seeing if Meg wanted to go out for dinner or
> something. It'll give me a chance to talk to her some more."
> "Yeah, right."
> "Give me a break. Of course I'm interested in her. She's
> funny, attractive, intelligent, and she didn't run screaming when she
> met us. All factors in her favor." I was smirking again. It really
> is involuntary.
> "OK, whatever. You can borrow the car, Johnny. Be home by
> midnight. Have fun."
> "Thanks dad," I called over my shoulder on the way to my room,
> "I'll be a good boy. Oh, take over on this soup, would you? Thanks."
> It didn't take long to arrange for the last redirection - it
> is usually easier to work with the truth, or at least partial truth,
> than to make things up from whole cloth. When I returned to the
> kitchen Ben had just started doling the soup out.
> We finished putting together the light lunch and took it to
> the living room. Sakura said her head was feeling much better, and
> her appetite was undiminished, which was relieving. She was quieter
> this afternoon - it seemed clear that, between being disowned by her
> father and the knock on the head, the day so far had given her some
> heavy things to think about.
> After lunch, I fiddled with our network for a while, but I
> knew what I was doing - I'm the world's best procrastinator. I was
> nervous about calling Meg, and I didn't want to admit it. Aside from
> personal issues, how would she feel about all the things we'd been
> doing? She never really said she wanted us to do anything, and here
> we were setting things in motion already. I mean, I knew we could
> stop them, but it was going a bit far. In my gut I felt she wouldn't
> mind, but just a little doubt is enough.
> After an hour or so of tweaking things that didn't need
> tweaking in the first place I decided there was nothing for it but to
> call her. If she wanted to go out I'd wait to tell her, I didn't want
> to tell her everything on the phone. I'm much better at that kind of
> thing face to face.
> Of course, first I had to remember what I did with that
> blasted card she had written her number on. After silently watching
> several minutes of my frantic searching, Ben picked it up from on top
> of the TV and handed it to me without a word. That was good, because
> it saved me from acknowledging that I had looked right at it at least
> three times. At any rate, I finally dialed. She answered after a
> couple of rings, but the music on her end was so loud we couldn't hear
> each other. Once she turned it down below afterburner level we
> managed to actually converse.
> Small talk ran out after a few minutes, and I decided there was
> nothing for it but to jump straight in.
> "So, ah... have you thought any more about my proposal?"
> Ouch. Smooth as broken glass.
> Her response was serious, though. "Yeah... yeah, I have. I,
> uh... I talked it over with Mom and Dad. They've heard of you through
> some contacts they still have in the State Department. You didn't tell
> me you do jobs for IMF."
> "Didn't know if you'd been cleared for that," I replied. "I
> hope they haven't heard any of the really bad parts."
> "No, apparently you've got a good reputation on our side. Anyway,
> I've been thinking about it a lot and... well... I'd like to go ahead
> with it, if you're still interested."
> I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. How'd you like to
> talk out the details over dinner?"
> Where does he get off? she asked herself. I mean, it's not
> like I do drugs or anything like that.
GAVOK <Sakura>: Though I did take some testosterone pills before recording my voice for Capcom vs SNK.
> So I like the martial arts, so
> I want to learn from the best there is. What's wrong with that? I'll
> tell you this much, if it was my brother doing this, Pop sure as hell
> wouldn't disown -him-. He'd be overjoyed that his son was following
> such a manly path. But his daughter? An embarrassment.
> To hell with him anyway, she thought as she turned the corner
> onto Main Street. Who needs him?
> Just then, the grey, threatening sky stopped threatening and
> started raining.
TBS <sky>: I didn't want to do this! You made me do this!
> Perfect, thought Sakura. Just exactly what I
> needed.
ARL: Seriously. She hadn't showered for a week.
> She was so wrapped up in becoming steadily angrier at her
> father that she didn't even see the guy walk out of the alley behind
> the Federal Building until she ran into him. That flustered her so
> much she started apologizing in Japanese before she remembered where
> she was.
> "Oh! Gomen - er, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
> "Well, hey there, sailor girl," he said with a smile, taking a
> couple of steps back and looking her over. Sakura didn't like the
> look on his face. Come to that, she didn't like his face much; it was
> wide and oily. In fact, "wide and oily" describes the whole person
> pretty well; he had on a greasy t-shirt that looked too small for his
> shoulder muscles and jeans that had seen better decades. "New in
> town?" he continued, and his grin changed to a leer.
> Harsh laughter from behind Sakura; she stole a glance over her
> shoulder to see another, similar but shorter guy stepping around the
> corner of the building.
GAVOK <Boo Boo>: Gee, Yogi. Ranger Smith said we shouldn't harass little girls.
> She realized she must have walked right past
> him on that side of the building before turning the corner herself.
> "Yeah," chortled the shorter one. "New."
> Two to one, hmm? thought Sakura. I've dealt with worse.
> "Not for long," she replied. "Soon as I can catch a bus, I'm
> out of this dump."
> "Aww, leaving so soon?" the one in front asked, stepping
> closer. Sakura stood her ground, concentrating on the rhythm of her
> breathing, her heartbeat, her center. "Hey, I've got an idea," the
> man in front of her said. "Why don't you stay a while and party with
> my friend and me?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one behind me. "Party."
RACE: So Sakura's dealing with the Ameoba Boys?
S.D.: Or Chang and Choi.
GAVOK: Nonono. Then it would be "Yessssssssssss! Party!"
> Perhaps unfortunately, Sakura didn't feel she was in any
> danger. In fact, given the day she'd had, she was looking forward to
> what was developing here.
MMK: Certainly not her chest!
(Racewing punches MMK on the arm)
> She could feel her ki pulsing in time with
> her heartbeat, so she gathered it.
> "No thanks," she said. "Got a bus to catch and all. Maybe
> next time I'm in town."
> "Oh, well, y'know, how do we know we're gonna be in town when
> you're here next?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one. "In town."
> That little habit was starting to get on her nerves.
> "You got anyplace else to be?" Sakura asked the taller one.
> "Not really," he replied.
> "Well, there you go," she replied. "I do. So if you'll excuse
> me... "
TBS: (makes a fart noise)
> "Now honey," he said, and moved a little closer. He was
> trying to back Sakura into his friend, but she wasn't giving ground;
> looking a little impressed, he backed up again and put his hand on her
> shoulder. "That's no way to be," he continued. "All we want is for
> you to stay and party with us for a while, and then you can go and do
> what you want. I mean, it's a dangerous city, Worcester. You don't
> play your cards right, you could get hurt."
MMK: You can get papercuts and stuff.
> "Yeah," said the shorter one, "play," as the taller one
> tightened his grip on her shoulder until it hurt.
> All right, I've had enough of this crap, said Sakura to
> herself. She took a half-step back, twisted her shoulder out of the
> tall one's grip in the process of backstepping into a fighting stance,
> and right on schedule she felt her ki surge and her hands tingle.
> "HADOKEN!" she cried, thrusting her hands forward, and the
> fireball burst out, smashing into the tall one's chest and face and
> knocking him sprawling on his back. Stepping into the follow-through,
> Sakura turned to face the short one.
> "Wha' th' fu' - ?" he blurted.
> Ooh, thought Sakura, handsome -and- articulate! Just the way
> I like them.
> He lunged at her and tasted one of her shoes as she snapped a
> high kick under his chin. Staggering back, he wiped at his bloody
> lip.
> "Hey!" he cried. "That hurt!"
> "Yeah," Sakura replied, "hurt. SHO-OKEN!" It wasn't quite a
> perfect Rising Dragon Fist, but Sakura's version of the classic
> Shotokan uppercut did the job anyway, drilling the short one straight
> into unconsciousness.
> Dusting off her hands, Sakura turned to resume her journey to
> the bus station.
> And skidded right back to a stop again.
> The tall one was back on his feet already, singed and dazed,
> but conscious... and three other guys were filling up the sidewalk
> behind him.
GAVOK: Now if this was Metro City, this would be interesting.
> -Now- Sakura was beginning to feel a little threatened, but
> she put it aside as they rushed her. This part of the brawl started
> out pretty well for her, really, but her concentration started to fall
> apart before she'd taken even one of them down - a combination of her
> own rising panic as it began to dawn on her what they would do to her
> if they won,
ARL <Sakura>: I can't party! It's a school night!
> and fatigue. It had been a longer day, and a more tiring
> journey, than she thought.
> Get it together, Sakura, she told herself as she barely
> avoided getting clipped by one of their fists. Get it together or
> you're going to lose, and this is no friendly sparring match. You
> wanted to be a street fighter, girl... here you are. Get it --
> Together!
> She spun on one heel, lifting into the air. "Shunpuu -
> KYAKU!" Truth to tell, she wasn't entirely happy with this move
> either - it only turned her around once, it wasn't much of a Rising
> Cyclone Kick - but it worked well enough to lay out the one in the
> orange shirt.
MMK <Charlie Brown>: Good grief!
> The one in blue lunged; Sakura caught his arm and swung
> his face into the side of the Federal Building. She turned and
> squared off with the tall guy and his one remaining helper, this one
> in a green t-shirt, and grinned.
> "Some party, huh?" she started to ask, but she only got about
> as far as "par" before
> POW
> the back of her head exploded, or at least, that's how it
> felt. The world turned red and black, winking out entirely for an
> instant, then returning as a huge, echoing chamber full of red fog and
> pain. Sakura felt a second impact in the small of her back, then a
> third as she crashed to the sidewalk on her chin. Waves of nausea
> rolled over her like breaking surf. She struggled to get up, keep
> fighting, but she felt like she was chained to the ground. She could
> feel rather than see them close in on her...
> Somewhere nearby, there was the sound of a powerful engine, the
> squeal of tires, and the metallic clunk of a car door, followed by a
> voice Sakura hazily thought she recognized:
GAVOK <Sweet Tooth>: HOO-HOO-HEH-HEH-HEH!
> "Back away from the girl right now and I won't hurt you."
> Tramping feet, defiant sounds. Sakura dragged herself to her
> elbows and knees and tried to open her eyes.
> "Fine, have it your way."
> As a strange coughing sound reached Sakura's ears, her eyes
> opened. She focused dimly on the sidewalk, then looked up in time to
> see Shorty sprawl on his back, a two-by-four with its end oddly
> splintered clattering from his slack hands. A few feet away, MegaZone
> was standing halfway out of the door of a black Suburban pulled up
> onto the curb, a gun with what looked like a spray can on the end in
> his hand.
> Then the wet pavement spiraled up at Sakura as she blacked out
> again.
MMK <Gryphon>: Now WE can have our way with her!
RACE: I will kill you, Howard.
>
> MZ
> While I encouraged the losers' retreat with my Glock, Ben ran
> around the back of the Suburban to kneel by Sakura as she slumped to
> the ground again. She didn't look good - her skin was a foreboding
> shade of grey, her school uniform torn and dirty, with a spatter of
> blood down the front of the tunic from the cuts on her chin.
GAVOK: Sakura was becoming a woman.
> "Oh
> bloody hell," I muttered, unscrewing the custom-made sound suppressor
> from the end of the gun and putting both away as he carried her to the
> truck and laid her gently on the back seat.
> I sat down on the edge of the seat and put my fingers to
> Sakura's throat, looking for her carotid pulse. I found it easily,
> and was relieved to find it strong and regular, like her breathing.
> If nothing else, she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. Her
> color was bad, though, and who knew what could result from a head
> injury like that?
GAVOK: I'll go with the Dyne and Dav Saga.
> Sure, Ryu and Ben and their fellow fighters make their living
> knocking each other out, and there's an obvious danger involved with
> that. But at their skill level especially, they have such an intimate
> knowledge of their abilities and the way their bodies work that they
> can do it carefully. Any decent fighter on the circuit knows how to
> take even a knockout blow with minimal damage, and the honorable ones
> know how to throw a knockout blow with care as well, oxymoronic as
> that sounds.
> A common street thug with a two-by-four, on the other hand,
> isn't likely to be as careful or as skilled, and Sakura was both
> inexperienced and taken by surprise. Gryph I glanced at each other,
RACE: Ah. The prequel to Gryph II.
> and didn't need to elaborate on the message we exchanged with that
> brief eye contact. We were both deeply worried.
S.D. <Zoner>: We both forgot to set the VCR, didn't we?
> They'd only just met the day before yesterday... for that
> matter, I'd only just met her the day before yesterday myself. And
> yet I was easily as worried as Ben. Neither of us even like kids.
> We went straight to the maze of streets that crawl up Bancroft
> Hill near WPI, as fast as I could safely get the Suburban to go, then
> pulled up at a familiar house. As I entered the house's foyer
> (Gryphon behind me, cradling Sakura in his arms like a big rag doll),
> the jangling bell on the door summoned Dr. Joachim Mueller from the
> back of the house. As he entered the foyer, he recognized us
> immediately, and took in the sight of the three of us impassively.
> Dr. Mueller has known Gryph and I long enough to take this kind of
> thing in stride.
> "Well, well," he murmured, patting his large hands together.
> "You find the most interesting things for old Doctor Mueller to
> handle, don't you?"
> Tall, white-haired, and patrician, Dr. Mueller is from
> Germany, and it still echoes in his English today. He left Germany as
> a young medical student in the late 1930s, just before Hitler plunged
> the nation into the insanity that was the Second World War. Now in
> his late seventies, he was mostly retired, but as an old friend of my
> family's, he still came out from time to time to patch me or Gryph up
> after our less than reportable injuries. I trusted his skills and his
> discretion implicitly.
> "Well, what's the story with this one?" he asked as he led us
> to the guest bedroom he used as an exam room for his infrequent
> visitors and gestured for Gryph to put Sakura down on the bed.
> Gryph and I between us told him as much of the story as we knew.
> Dr. Mueller raised an eyebrow when we got to the part about Gryph's
> ill-fated call to Sakura's father, but he said only, "Mmm, your day is
> just beginning to get complicated, then," as he bent over the guest bed.
> "Pulse is good... breathing is strong. Hello? Young lady, can you hear
> me?" He took a penlight out of his pocket, gently pried open one of
> Sakura's eyes, and shone the light in.
> She blinked, flinched, and then settled slowly into the
> mattress and pillows with a long, descending groan.
> "Pupil reaction is good," mused Dr. Mueller to himself as he
> returned the pen to his pocket. "How do you feel, young lady?"
> "Like a Texaco tank truck ran over me," Sakura replied
> weakly, "backed up, and ran over me again."
> "Well, you remember your English, that's a good sign," Mueller
> replied. "Whenever I get clonked on the head, first thing I do, I
> start speaking in German again."
> "If I was speaking German," Sakura said with a wan smile, "I'd
> really be in trouble."
> "Well, let's look at your head, now. Sit up, but slowly, or
> you'll make yourself sick."
> Obediently, Sakura sat gingerly up so Mueller could look at
> the back of her head. He gently moved the blood-matted hair out of
> the way with one hand and used the other to wield the penlight again.
> "Mmm... broken skin and a bit of bleeding, but the scalp is fine, and
> you've got a good strong skull, young lady. If there were anything
> seriously wrong, I doubt I would have been able to wake you by simply
> shining a light in your eye. All right, lie back. Are you hurt
> anywhere else?"
> "Right now I hurt all over," she said, leaning her head gently
> back against the pillow.
TBS <Mueller>: Then let me kiss your booboo.
> "How does your head feel?"
RACE <Sakura>: Round?
> She considered, then reported with a slightly surprised tone,
> "No worse than the rest of me, really."
> "Also a good sign," said Mueller with a smile. "Well, I don't
> think you've suffered any permanent harm." He turned to me. "Keep an
> eye on her for the rest of today. Don't let her go to sleep until you
> turn in tonight, and only a light dinner is in order. If she gets
> overwhelmingly drowsy, passes out, or becomes incoherent, call me and
> we'll get her over to UMassMed for some X rays. I'll also leave
> cleaning her up to you - I presume you have the medical knowledge
> necessary to clean a few cuts, ja?"
MMK <Gryphon>: Right. Sponge bath.
> I nodded, his good humor making me grin. "Thanks, Doctor."
> He waved. "Don't mention it. It's all part of the service."
> Snapping his bag shut, he turned to Sakura again. "Now you be good
> and follow my instructions, and you'll feel much better in the
> morning. All right?"
> She nodded, kind of a lying-down bow. "I will. Thank you."
> Gryph and I helped Sakura out to the Suburban for the trip
> back down the hill. She was a little unsteady, but her strength was
> returning fast, and she was getting her color back, too, by the time
> we got home a few minutes later. I felt a powerful urge to clean my
> gun.
TBS: God, at least wait until you're alone!
> It's a habit of mine, when I'm upset and don't have anyone to
> vent it on. Gryph doesn't think I know I do it; the truth is, I do it
> so I won't be able to do anything else with the gun.
> While keeping an eye on Sakura in the living room, Gryph and I
> went to the kitchen to heat up some soup.
> "Well, now what the hell do we do?" Gryph wondered.
GAVOK <Zoner>: Put it in the microwave and press ON, you dummy.
> "I have no idea," I replied. I paused before putting the
> soup into the saucepan I had prepared. "She could stay here for a
> while, but... "
> Gryph nodded. "But she doesn't want to."
> I sighed, dumping the soup into the pan and using a wooden spoon
> to scrape out the few noodles stuck to the inside of the can. "Right,"
> I replied. "After all, Ryu's her hero, not us," I added, handing Gryph
> the can to be rinsed and put by the trash. I'm fond of this whole
> recycling thing, although Gryph thinks the stuff all gets thrown in a
> big hole together after it's trucked away anyway. "And just because
> she's welcome doesn't mean she'll stay. We saw proof of that this
> afternoon."
> "She's got talent," Gryph observed. "We were pretty far away
> when the fight started, but I'm pretty sure I saw her throw a hadoken
> at one of them."
> I looked hard at Ben. "She's had how much formal training?"
> "None, as far as I know, unless you count Ryu's two-minute
> explanation-in-layman's-terms of the technique last month."
> I blinked. "Wow. She's got a -lot- of talent."
> "And she's a good kid," Gryph went on, nodding. "A little
> narrow-focused, but... well... I'll have to talk with her about that.
> She reminds me of Chun Li - "
> "I was just about to say that, yeah - "
> "Before her father died and she got all grim and
> revenge-and-justice -"
> "Yeah. Hopefully what happened to her today will open her eyes
> and make her realize that street fighting isn't a game."
> "If she has enough dedication to work out the hadoken on her
> own, she's serious enough to stick with it regardless," Gryph said, a
> warning note in his voice.
> I nodded. "All the better... but she'll need training.
> Unfocused, that talent could become a danger to everyone... and in the
> wrong hands, she could become something truly terrifying."
ARL <Sakura>: Go! To! Hell!
> Our eyes met, and Ben knew exactly whose hands I was talking
> about.
TBS <Gryphon> and S.D. <Zoner>: Jean Luke!
> Ryu had fallen into those same hands once, before either of
> them was a World Warrior, and "truly terrifying" is a good description
> of what he had become, for a time.
GAVOK: Mutton chops and a mullet. Scary times, man.
> "Ryu won't change his mind," Gryph said. "You know how he
> is." He blew a breath out, puffing his cheeks. "All right, look, why
> don't we do it like this. I'll get Rose to come down and look after
> her tomorrow. We can push the timetable on the Area 51 thing up, get
> it out of the way. Once we're back home, I can sit down and figure
> out what the hell I'm going to do with her."
> "-We- can figure out what -we're- going to do," I corrected.
> "Her father didn't make her your responsibility," said Gryph.
> "I don't want to drag you into the mess too... "
> "You're helping me out with this thing for Meg, aren't you?"
> I shrugged. "We're partners. Your problems are my problems."
> He smiled. "Thanks. Have you got the cover story in place
> for the sneak yet?"
> "Well, I -think- I've got it. DARPA has requested Sky Dancer
> and its contents for transfer to an undisclosed research project. If
> anyone digs into it, it looks like it's under the auspicies of the
> CIA. The CIA will pawn it off on NASA for administration. NASA says
> no, that project was transferred, now being run by the NSA and they
> don't have any need to know where it is. If they manage to get the
> NSA to admit to anything, they thought the Air Force had it at Area 51
> but had unmothballed it and was using it for research. The Air Force,
> of course, says no, it was taken for a research project.
> "Now, either they loop around again, or they find the second
> level of misdirection. Seems the Royal Navy wanted to test its
> submersible capabilities. But if you ask them, they don't know
> anything about it, but they've heard MI-5 is up to something with it.
> MI-5 has absolutely nothing to do with it, you must be thinking of
> MI-6. MI-6 sure doesn't have it, but the Royal Air Force and SAS have
> been testing something. Maybe you should check with them. The SAS
> will tell you to bugger off, but the RAF thinks the Royal Navy is
> using it as a technology demonstrator for an SBS project. No, been
> there? Sorry chap, don't know.
> "OK, so that's a dead end. Back to Area 51 to try again. If
> they dig -really- deep they'll find an indication that it went back to
> the manufacturer. Of course, Lockheed hasn't had it since it left the
> Works. Maybe you meant the chief designer on Project Sky Dancer,
> they'd heard that Mr. Hackenbacker was working on a new project.
ARL <Hackenbacker>: Look! It's errupting like a real volcano!
> Yes,
> we have a business relationship with him. Sorry, we can't give you
> any details. No, I don't care what clearance you have, I know it
> isn't high enough. Mr. Hackenbacker guards his privacy very
> jealously. Good day.
> "In light of what you set up the other day, I think I'll set
> up a fourth level. The Sky Dancer was transferred to the Quest
> Foundation for an indefinite period of time, for research purposes.
> As for who authorized that, well, I pity the person who'll follow that
> path.
GAVOK <Mr. T>: And I shall toss this soul across a far distance.
> What do you think?"
> "I don't want to know how you set it up, but it sounds good.
> As good as we're going to do anyway. How soon can we go?"
> "The sooner the better, I'd like to have it out of there
> before anyone gets curious about the paper trail. But this may just
> be an interesting exercise. We still haven't heard from Meg, after
> all."
> "I suspect Greer'll be pissed if we put him through this for
> nothing," Ben observed.
> "He'll get over it. He's knows what running an op is like,
> things don't always come off the way you planned. Sometimes they
> don't come off at all."
> "Right. I guess there's nothing much for it at the moment,
> then."
> "Oh, one thing. Can you call Quest back and see if they can
> shuttle us back west? I'd like to fly the Prince of Thebes out, but
> we'll be flying Sky Dancer direct to Maine. I'd rather not fly
> commercial back to pick up the Prince. It'd be much faster if they
> can just shoot us back out."
> "I don't think it'll be a problem. I'll call them up after we
> eat."
> "OK... this afternoon, just to cover our bets, I figured I'd
> set up the fourth level of the trail. After that, I don't know. I
> was thinking about seeing if Meg wanted to go out for dinner or
> something. It'll give me a chance to talk to her some more."
> "Yeah, right."
> "Give me a break. Of course I'm interested in her. She's
> funny, attractive, intelligent, and she didn't run screaming when she
> met us. All factors in her favor." I was smirking again. It really
> is involuntary.
> "OK, whatever. You can borrow the car, Johnny. Be home by
> midnight. Have fun."
> "Thanks dad," I called over my shoulder on the way to my room,
> "I'll be a good boy. Oh, take over on this soup, would you? Thanks."
> It didn't take long to arrange for the last redirection - it
> is usually easier to work with the truth, or at least partial truth,
> than to make things up from whole cloth. When I returned to the
> kitchen Ben had just started doling the soup out.
> We finished putting together the light lunch and took it to
> the living room. Sakura said her head was feeling much better, and
> her appetite was undiminished, which was relieving. She was quieter
> this afternoon - it seemed clear that, between being disowned by her
> father and the knock on the head, the day so far had given her some
> heavy things to think about.
S.D. <Sakura>: What if C-A-T spelled "Dog"?
> After lunch, I fiddled with our network for a while, but I
> knew what I was doing - I'm the world's best procrastinator. I was
> nervous about calling Meg, and I didn't want to admit it. Aside from
> personal issues, how would she feel about all the things we'd been
> doing? She never really said she wanted us to do anything, and here
> we were setting things in motion already. I mean, I knew we could
> stop them, but it was going a bit far. In my gut I felt she wouldn't
> mind, but just a little doubt is enough.
> After an hour or so of tweaking things that didn't need
> tweaking in the first place I decided there was nothing for it but to
> call her. If she wanted to go out I'd wait to tell her, I didn't want
> to tell her everything on the phone. I'm much better at that kind of
> thing face to face.
> Of course, first I had to remember what I did with that
> blasted card she had written her number on.
RACE <Zoner>: Oh crap! I gave it to Gambit!
> After silently watching
> several minutes of my frantic searching, Ben picked it up from on top
> of the TV and handed it to me without a word. That was good, because
> it saved me from acknowledging that I had looked right at it at least
> three times. At any rate, I finally dialed. She answered after a
> couple of rings, but the music on her end was so loud we couldn't hear
> each other. Once she turned it down below afterburner level we
> managed to actually converse.
> Small talk ran out after a few minutes, and I decided there was
> nothing for it but to jump straight in.
> "So, ah... have you thought any more about my proposal?"
> Ouch. Smooth as broken glass.
> Her response was serious, though. "Yeah... yeah, I have. I,
> uh... I talked it over with Mom and Dad. They've heard of you through
> some contacts they still have in the State Department. You didn't tell
> me you do jobs for IMF."
> "Didn't know if you'd been cleared for that," I replied. "I
> hope they haven't heard any of the really bad parts."
> "No, apparently you've got a good reputation on our side. Anyway,
> I've been thinking about it a lot and... well...
ARL <Meg>: I really did like Seven Samurai more than the Magnificent Seven.
> I'd like to go ahead
> with it, if you're still interested."
> I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. How'd you like to
> talk out the details over dinner?"
S.D. <Meg>: I don't know. Things you were hoping I would and would not say isn't a very interesting topic.
>
> THIRD-PERSON INTERLUDE
> MAIN STREET, WORCESTER
> NEAR THE FEDERAL BLDG.
>
> It started to sink in as Sakura walked up Elm Street,
RACE <Sakura>: Didn't I just fall asleep? Why am I outside? And why is a tall Choi Bounge stalking me?
> and by
> the time she was halfway to the bus station, she was so mad at her
> father that she couldn't see straight.
MMK <pedestrian>: Lady, watch out!
GAVOK: ERRRRRRRRRRR!! *crash*
TBS: The fact that bumped into a half-dozen telephone poles and two fire
hydrants was a bit of a tip-off.
> Where does he get off? she asked herself.
S.D., RACE: I'm not touching that.
[S.D. and RACE blink and look at each other.]
> I mean, it's not
> like I do drugs or anything like that.
GAVOK <Sakura>: Though I did take some testosterone pills before recording my voice for Capcom vs SNK.
> So I like the martial arts, so
> I want to learn from the best there is. What's wrong with that? I'll
> tell you this much, if it was my brother doing this, Pop sure as hell
> wouldn't disown -him-. He'd be overjoyed that his son was following
> such a manly path. But his daughter? An embarrassment.
ARL <Sakura>: I'll bet Kasumi Todo doesn't have to put up with this...
> To hell with him anyway, she thought as she turned the corner
> onto Main Street. Who needs him?
> Just then, the grey, threatening sky stopped threatening and
> started raining.
TBS <sky>: I didn't want to do this! You made me do this!
> Perfect, thought Sakura. Just exactly what I
> needed.
ARL: Seriously. She hadn't showered for a week.
S.D. <Sakura>: A dreary enviroment brought forth to provide subtle
foreshadowing to the tragedy that is about to befall me.
> She was so wrapped up in becoming steadily angrier at her
> father that she didn't even see the guy walk out of the alley behind
> the Federal Building until she ran into him. That flustered her so
> much she started apologizing in Japanese before she remembered where
> she was.
> "Oh! Gomen - er, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
> "Well, hey there, sailor girl," he said with a smile, taking a
> couple of steps back and looking her over. Sakura didn't like the
> look on his face. Come to that, she didn't like his face much; it was
> wide and oily. In fact, "wide and oily" describes the whole person
> pretty well; he had on a greasy t-shirt that looked too small for his
> shoulder muscles and jeans that had seen better decades.
ARL <singing>: He's got greasy hair, greasy smile, he says "Lord this
must be my destination..."
[ALL stare blankly at ARL.]
ARL: ...what?
GAVOK: Dude, your taste in music sucks.
> "New in
> town?" he continued, and his grin changed to a leer.
> Harsh laughter from behind Sakura; she stole a glance over her
> shoulder to see another, similar but shorter guy stepping around the
> corner of the building.
GAVOK <Boo Boo>: Gee, Yogi. Ranger Smith said we shouldn't harass little girls.
RACE: Laurel and Hardy really hit the skids...
> She realized she must have walked right past
> him on that side of the building before turning the corner herself.
> "Yeah," chortled the shorter one. "New."
> Two to one, hmm? thought Sakura. I've dealt with worse.
> "Not for long," she replied. "Soon as I can catch a bus, I'm
> out of this dump."
> "Aww, leaving so soon?" the one in front asked, stepping
> closer. Sakura stood her ground, concentrating on the rhythm of her
> breathing, her heartbeat, her center. "Hey, I've got an idea," the
> man in front of her said. "Why don't you stay a while and party with
> my friend and me?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one behind me. "Party."
RACE: So Sakura's dealing with the Ameoba Boys?
S.D.: Or Chang and Choi.
GAVOK: Nonono. Then it would be "Yessssssssssss! Party!"
> Perhaps unfortunately, Sakura didn't feel she was in any
> danger.
ARL: Social Darwinism in action.
> In fact, given the day she'd had, she was looking forward to
> what was developing here.
MMK: Certainly not her chest!
(Racewing punches MMK on the arm)
> She could feel her ki pulsing in time with
> her heartbeat, so she gathered it.
> "No thanks," she said. "Got a bus to catch and all. Maybe
> next time I'm in town."
> "Oh, well, y'know, how do we know we're gonna be in town when
> you're here next?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one. "In town."
TBS <tall guy, forcefully>: Thank you Steve, but I think she can hear
me just fine...
GAVOK <short guy>: Yeah. Just fine.
[TBS <tall guy> facepalms.]
> That little habit was starting to get on her nerves.
> "You got anyplace else to be?" Sakura asked the taller one.
> "Not really," he replied.
> "Well, there you go," she replied. "I do. So if you'll excuse
> me... "
TBS: (makes a fart noise)
> "Now honey," he said, and moved a little closer. He was
> trying to back Sakura into his friend, but she wasn't giving ground;
> looking a little impressed, he backed up again and put his hand on her
> shoulder.
GAVOK <tall man>: Vulcan Nerve Pinch!
> "That's no way to be," he continued. "All we want is for
> you to stay and party with us for a while, and then you can go and do
> what you want. I mean, it's a dangerous city, Worcester. You don't
> play your cards right, you could get hurt."
MMK: You can get papercuts and stuff.
ARL <Chinese accent>: But if you play your cards right, you live to talk
about it!
> "Yeah," said the shorter one, "play," as the taller one
> tightened his grip on her shoulder until it hurt.
> All right, I've had enough of this crap, said Sakura to
> herself. She took a half-step back, twisted her shoulder out of the
> tall one's grip in the process of backstepping into a fighting stance,
> and right on schedule she felt her ki surge and her hands tingle.
S.D.: ...and her evil blood began boiling... wait, wrong teenaged
butt-kicker trained by the main character of a video game series.
MMK: Oh yeah, Rock's got more taste than Sakura too, doesn't he? Huh, fancy that...
TBS <receptionist>: Right, I can fit you in for ki-surging and hand-tingling at three, if that's okay with you...
> "HADOKEN!" she cried, thrusting her hands forward, and the
> fireball burst out, smashing into the tall one's chest and face and
> knocking him sprawling on his back. Stepping into the follow-through,
> Sakura turned to face the short one.
> "Wha' th' fu' - ?" he blurted.
> Ooh, thought Sakura, handsome -and- articulate! Just the way
> I like them.
ALL <singing>: Uh-huh uh-huh! That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like them, uh-huh uh-huh...
> He lunged at her and tasted one of her shoes as she snapped a
> high kick under his chin. Staggering back, he wiped at his bloody
> lip.
> "Hey!" he cried. "That hurt!"
> "Yeah," Sakura replied, "hurt. SHO-OKEN!" It wasn't quite a
> perfect Rising Dragon Fist, but Sakura's version of the classic
> Shotokan uppercut did the job anyway, drilling the short one straight
> into unconsciousness.
> Dusting off her hands, Sakura turned to resume her journey to
> the bus station.
> And skidded right back to a stop again.
> The tall one was back on his feet already, singed and dazed,
> but conscious... and three other guys were filling up the sidewalk
> behind him.
GAVOK: Now if this was Metro City, this would be interesting.
> -Now- Sakura was beginning to feel a little threatened, but
> she put it aside as they rushed her. This part of the brawl started
> out pretty well for her, really, but her concentration started to fall
> apart before she'd taken even one of them down - a combination of her
> own rising panic as it began to dawn on her what they would do to her
> if they won,
ARL <Sakura>: I can't party! It's a school night!
> and fatigue. It had been a longer day, and a more tiring
> journey, than she thought.
> Get it together, Sakura, she told herself as she barely
> avoided getting clipped by one of their fists. Get it together or
> you're going to lose, and this is no friendly sparring match. You
> wanted to be a street fighter, girl... here you are. Get it --
> Together!
> She spun on one heel, lifting into the air. "Shunpuu -
> KYAKU!" Truth to tell, she wasn't entirely happy with this move
> either - it only turned her around once, it wasn't much of a Rising
> Cyclone Kick - but it worked well enough to lay out the one in the
> orange shirt.
MMK <Charlie Brown>: Good grief!
> The one in blue lunged; Sakura caught his arm and swung
> his face into the side of the Federal Building.
ARL: A practical use for government offices. Fancy that.
> She turned and
> squared off with the tall guy and his one remaining helper, this one
> in a green t-shirt, and grinned.
> "Some party, huh?" she started to ask, but she only got about
> as far as "par" before
> POW
GAVOK: A truckload of 60's Batman sound effect cards spilled onto the street! Oh, the humanity!
> the back of her head exploded, or at least, that's how it
> felt.
TBS: So does *she* have head explody, too?
> The world turned red and black, winking out entirely for an
> instant, then returning as a huge, echoing chamber full of red fog and
> pain. Sakura felt a second impact in the small of her back, then a
> third as she crashed to the sidewalk on her chin. Waves of nausea
> rolled over her like breaking surf. She struggled to get up, keep
> fighting, but she felt like she was chained to the ground. She could
> feel rather than see them close in on her...
> Somewhere nearby, there was the sound of a powerful engine, the
> squeal of tires, and the metallic clunk of a car door, followed by a
> voice Sakura hazily thought she recognized:
GAVOK <Sweet Tooth>: HOO-HOO-HEH-HEH-HEH!
> "Back away from the girl right now and I won't hurt you."
> Tramping feet, defiant sounds. Sakura dragged herself to her
> elbows and knees and tried to open her eyes.
> "Fine, have it your way."
TBS: They're being attacked by Burger King employees?
> As a strange coughing sound reached Sakura's ears, her eyes
> opened. She focused dimly on the sidewalk, then looked up in time to
> see Shorty sprawl on his back, a two-by-four with its end oddly
> splintered clattering from his slack hands. A few feet away, MegaZone
> was standing halfway out of the door of a black Suburban pulled up
> onto the curb, a gun with what looked like a spray can on the end in
> his hand.
> Then the wet pavement spiraled up at Sakura as she blacked out
> again.
MMK <Gryphon>: Now WE can have our way with her!
RACE: I will kill you, Howard.
>
> MZ
> While I encouraged the losers' retreat with my Glock, Ben ran
> around the back of the Suburban to kneel by Sakura as she slumped to
> the ground again. She didn't look good - her skin was a foreboding
> shade of grey, her school uniform torn and dirty, with a spatter of
> blood down the front of the tunic from the cuts on her chin.
GAVOK: Sakura was becoming a woman.
TBS: That's not Sakura, that's a zombie!
MMK: Or Zombie Sakura.
GAVOK: "The Shotoclones who Stopped Living and Became Incredibly Mixed-Up Zombies?"
[MMK and TBS shrug.]
> "Oh
> bloody hell," I muttered, unscrewing the custom-made sound suppressor
> from the end of the gun and putting both away as he carried her to the
> truck and laid her gently on the back seat.
> I sat down on the edge of the seat and put my fingers to
> Sakura's throat, looking for her carotid pulse. I found it easily,
> and was relieved to find it strong and regular, like her breathing.
MMK <MZ>: I then moved my hand down, to see if she had any injuries
under her-
[MMK barely ducks a mini-spatula thrown by RACE.]
> If nothing else, she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. Her
> color was bad, though, and who knew what could result from a head
> injury like that?
GAVOK: I'll go with the Dyne and Dav Saga.
> Sure, Ryu and Ben and their fellow fighters make their living
> knocking each other out, and there's an obvious danger involved with
> that. But at their skill level especially, they have such an intimate
> knowledge of their abilities and the way their bodies work that they
> can do it carefully. Any decent fighter on the circuit knows how to
> take even a knockout blow with minimal damage, and the honorable ones
> know how to throw a knockout blow with care as well, oxymoronic as
> that sounds.
> A common street thug with a two-by-four, on the other hand,
> isn't likely to be as careful or as skilled, and Sakura was both
> inexperienced and taken by surprise. Gryph I glanced at each other,
RACE: Ah. The prequel to Gryph II.
> and didn't need to elaborate on the message we exchanged with that
> brief eye contact.
S.D.: Ah, young love...
> We were both deeply worried.
S.D. <Zoner>: We both forgot to set the VCR, didn't we?
> They'd only just met the day before yesterday... for that
> matter, I'd only just met her the day before yesterday myself. And
> yet I was easily as worried as Ben. Neither of us even like kids.
GAVOK <MZ>: They're too greasy, and there's hardly enough meat on their bones...
ARL: Oh, geez! We get enough of that from Jumpy...
> We went straight to the maze of streets that crawl up Bancroft
> Hill near WPI, as fast as I could safely get the Suburban to go, then
> pulled up at a familiar house. As I entered the house's foyer
> (Gryphon behind me, cradling Sakura in his arms like a big rag doll),
> the jangling bell on the door summoned Dr. Joachim Mueller from the
> back of the house. As he entered the foyer, he recognized us
> immediately, and took in the sight of the three of us impassively.
> Dr. Mueller has known Gryph and I long enough to take this kind of
> thing in stride.
> "Well, well," he murmured, patting his large hands together.
> "You find the most interesting things for old Doctor Mueller to
> handle, don't you?"
[MMK and S.D. snicker. RACE growls.]
> Tall, white-haired, and patrician, Dr. Mueller is from
> Germany, and it still echoes in his English today. He left Germany as
> a young medical student in the late 1930s, just before Hitler plunged
> the nation into the insanity that was the Second World War. Now in
> his late seventies, he was mostly retired, but as an old friend of my
> family's, he still came out from time to time to patch me or Gryph up
> after our less than reportable injuries. I trusted his skills and his
> discretion implicitly.
> "Well, what's the story with this one?" he asked as he led us
> to the guest bedroom he used as an exam room for his infrequent
> visitors and gestured for Gryph to put Sakura down on the bed.
> Gryph and I between us told him as much of the story as we knew.
> Dr. Mueller raised an eyebrow when we got to the part about Gryph's
> ill-fated call to Sakura's father, but he said only, "Mmm, your day is
> just beginning to get complicated, then," as he bent over the guest bed.
> "Pulse is good... breathing is strong. Hello? Young lady, can you hear
> me?" He took a penlight out of his pocket, gently pried open one of
> Sakura's eyes, and shone the light in.
> She blinked, flinched, and then settled slowly into the
> mattress and pillows with a long, descending groan.
> "Pupil reaction is good," mused Dr. Mueller to himself as he
> returned the pen to his pocket. "How do you feel, young lady?"
> "Like a Texaco tank truck ran over me," Sakura replied
> weakly, "backed up, and ran over me again."
> "Well, you remember your English, that's a good sign," Mueller
> replied. "Whenever I get clonked on the head, first thing I do, I
> start speaking in German again."
GAVOK: Me too.
ARL: Gavok, you don't *know* any German.
GAVOK: Sure I do! Watch.
[GAVOK smacks himself in the head with a steel chair.]
GAVOK: Mein luftkissenfahrzeug ist von den aalen voll.
> "If I was speaking German," Sakura said with a wan smile, "I'd
> really be in trouble."
MMK: Well, she knows a *little* German... and as a matter of fact, I know a little German, too!
S.D.: Well aren't *we* special?
MMK: Yup. He's sitting right over there.
[MMK points to TBS, now dressed in leiderhosen.]
TBS: Guten tag!
S.D.: ...
> "Well, let's look at your head, now. Sit up, but slowly, or
> you'll make yourself sick."
> Obediently, Sakura sat gingerly up so Mueller could look at
> the back of her head. He gently moved the blood-matted hair out of
> the way with one hand and used the other to wield the penlight again.
> "Mmm... broken skin and a bit of bleeding, but the scalp is fine, and
> you've got a good strong skull, young lady. If there were anything
> seriously wrong, I doubt I would have been able to wake you by simply
> shining a light in your eye. All right, lie back. Are you hurt
> anywhere else?"
> "Right now I hurt all over," she said, leaning her head gently
> back against the pillow.
TBS <Mueller>: Then let me kiss your booboo.
> "How does your head feel?"
RACE <Sakura>: Round?
> She considered, then reported with a slightly surprised tone,
> "No worse than the rest of me, really."
> "Also a good sign," said Mueller with a smile. "Well, I don't
> think you've suffered any permanent harm." He turned to me. "Keep an
> eye on her for the rest of today. Don't let her go to sleep until you
> turn in tonight, and only a light dinner is in order.
ARL <Mueller>: ...but don't feed her after midnight, all right?
> If she gets
> overwhelmingly drowsy, passes out, or becomes incoherent, call me and
> we'll get her over to UMassMed for some X rays. I'll also leave
> cleaning her up to you - I presume you have the medical knowledge
> necessary to clean a few cuts, ja?"
MMK <Gryphon>: Right. Sponge bath.
> I nodded, his good humor making me grin. "Thanks, Doctor."
> He waved. "Don't mention it. It's all part of the service."
> Snapping his bag shut, he turned to Sakura again. "Now you be good
> and follow my instructions, and you'll feel much better in the
> morning.
MMK <singing>: The pain will fade as time goes by... what was taken
I won't miss, or I'll replace... never mind me, I'm all right...
> All right?"
> She nodded, kind of a lying-down bow. "I will. Thank you."
> Gryph and I helped Sakura out to the Suburban for the trip
> back down the hill. She was a little unsteady, but her strength was
> returning fast, and she was getting her color back, too, by the time
> we got home a few minutes later. I felt a powerful urge to clean my
> gun.
TBS: God, at least wait until you're alone!
> It's a habit of mine, when I'm upset and don't have anyone to
> vent it on. Gryph doesn't think I know I do it; the truth is, I do it
> so I won't be able to do anything else with the gun.
S.D. <snickering>: Not like you normally do anything with your gun other
than "clean" it...
> While keeping an eye on Sakura in the living room, Gryph and I
> went to the kitchen to heat up some soup.
> "Well, now what the hell do we do?" Gryph wondered.
GAVOK <Zoner>: Put it in the microwave and press ON, you dummy.
> "I have no idea," I replied. I paused before putting the
> soup into the saucepan I had prepared. "She could stay here for a
> while, but... "
> Gryph nodded. "But she doesn't want to."
> I sighed, dumping the soup into the pan and using a wooden spoon
> to scrape out the few noodles stuck to the inside of the can. "Right,"
> I replied. "After all, Ryu's her hero, not us," I added, handing Gryph
> the can to be rinsed and put by the trash. I'm fond of this whole
> recycling thing, although Gryph thinks the stuff all gets thrown in a
> big hole together after it's trucked away anyway.
ARL: Thank you for that irrelevant aside.
> "And just because
> she's welcome doesn't mean she'll stay. We saw proof of that this
> afternoon."
> "She's got talent," Gryph observed. "We were pretty far away
> when the fight started, but I'm pretty sure I saw her throw a hadoken
> at one of them."
> I looked hard at Ben. "She's had how much formal training?"
> "None, as far as I know, unless you count Ryu's two-minute
> explanation-in-layman's-terms of the technique last month."
> I blinked. "Wow. She's got a -lot- of talent."
ARL: Okay, so let me get this straight: A fifteen-year old girl with no
formal training - just watching some guy fight - manages to effectively
emulate the Shotokan style and fight on a level that most people rarely
reach at her age, even *with* formal training.
RACE: Are you complaining?
ARL: No, I'm just saying it's a little weird, is all. I mean, if she's
like this now, then in a few years she should be able to take out most
of the other, well-trained Street Fighters without much trouble. This
is way beyond prodigy; it's closer to contrivance. No offense, Race.
RACE: None taken.
ARL: But I mean, she's got this incredible - and potentially soul
consuming - drive to succeed and be the best, I figure eventually the
Satsui no Hadou is going to kick in, and considering how badly she wants
to fight and *win*, she's probably going to go over to the Dark Side. No
offense again, Race.
RACE: None taken.
S.D.: So there could be a teenaged Little Miss Akuma running around in the
near future?
ARL: Possibly, although Capcom mostly joked about it with Dark Sakura.
[pauses] Although if this took place in '94, then technically it would be
an early twenties master of the Dark Hadou. Well, whatever.
GAVOK: What would an evil twenty-something Sakura wear, anyway?
TBS: Same thing as every other evil twenty-something female villain: Lots
and lots of leather.
MMK: Or very little leather.
[Meanwhile, RACE struggles to stem the flow of blood from his nose with a
handful of tissues.]
[...this never happens in Quasispace...]
> "And she's a good kid," Gryph went on, nodding. "A little
> narrow-focused, but... well... I'll have to talk with her about that.
> She reminds me of Chun Li - "
> "I was just about to say that, yeah - "
> "Before her father died and she got all grim and
> revenge-and-justice -"
> "Yeah. Hopefully what happened to her today will open her eyes
> and make her realize that street fighting isn't a game."
ARL: Irony? Yeah, we got that.
> "If she has enough dedication to work out the hadoken on her
> own, she's serious enough to stick with it regardless," Gryph said, a
> warning note in his voice.
> I nodded. "All the better... but she'll need training.
> Unfocused, that talent could become a danger to everyone... and in the
> wrong hands, she could become something truly terrifying."
ARL <Sakura>: Go! To! Hell! [pauses] Come to think of it, a twenty-something Evil Sakura *would* be kind
of cool...
MMK: A twenty-something Evil Sakura wearing practically nothing, you mean.
[RACE passes out. MMK and GAVOK glance over at him.]
GAVOK: Man, that's a lot of blood.
MMK: Looks like a Dusty Rhodes - Terry Funk match took place.
> Our eyes met, and Ben knew exactly whose hands I was talking
> about.
TBS <Gryphon> and S.D. <Zoner>: Jean Luke!
> Ryu had fallen into those same hands once, before either of
> them was a World Warrior, and "truly terrifying" is a good description
> of what he had become, for a time.
GAVOK: Mutton chops and a mullet. Scary times, man.
> "Ryu won't change his mind," Gryph said. "You know how he
> is." He blew a breath out, puffing his cheeks. "All right, look, why
> don't we do it like this. I'll get Rose to come down and look after
> her tomorrow. We can push the timetable on the Area 51 thing up, get
> it out of the way. Once we're back home, I can sit down and figure
> out what the hell I'm going to do with her."
> "-We- can figure out what -we're- going to do," I corrected.
> "Her father didn't make her your responsibility," said Gryph.
> "I don't want to drag you into the mess too... "
> "You're helping me out with this thing for Meg, aren't you?"
> I shrugged. "We're partners. Your problems are my problems."
> He smiled. "Thanks. Have you got the cover story in place
> for the sneak yet?"
ARL: I have a feeling this is going to take a while...
> "Well, I -think- I've got it. DARPA has requested Sky Dancer
> and its contents for transfer to an undisclosed research project. If
> anyone digs into it, it looks like it's under the auspicies of the
> CIA. The CIA will pawn it off on NASA for administration. NASA says
> no, that project was transferred, now being run by the NSA and they
> don't have any need to know where it is. If they manage to get the
> NSA to admit to anything, they thought the Air Force had it at Area 51
> but had unmothballed it and was using it for research. The Air Force,
> of course, says no, it was taken for a research project.
> "Now, either they loop around again, or they find the second
> level of misdirection. Seems the Royal Navy wanted to test its
> submersible capabilities. But if you ask them, they don't know
> anything about it, but they've heard MI-5 is up to something with it.
> MI-5 has absolutely nothing to do with it, you must be thinking of
> MI-6. MI-6 sure doesn't have it, but the Royal Air Force and SAS have
> been testing something. Maybe you should check with them. The SAS
> will tell you to bugger off, but the RAF thinks the Royal Navy is
> using it as a technology demonstrator for an SBS project. No, been
> there? Sorry chap, don't know.
> "OK, so that's a dead end. Back to Area 51 to try again. If
> they dig -really- deep they'll find an indication that it went back to
> the manufacturer. Of course, Lockheed hasn't had it since it left the
> Works. Maybe you meant the chief designer on Project Sky Dancer,
> they'd heard that Mr. Hackenbacker was working on a new project.
ARL <Hackenbacker>: Look! It's errupting like a real volcano!
> Yes,
> we have a business relationship with him. Sorry, we can't give you
> any details. No, I don't care what clearance you have, I know it
> isn't high enough. Mr. Hackenbacker guards his privacy very
> jealously. Good day.
> "In light of what you set up the other day, I think I'll set
> up a fourth level. The Sky Dancer was transferred to the Quest
> Foundation for an indefinite period of time, for research purposes.
> As for who authorized that, well, I pity the person who'll follow that
> path.
GAVOK <Mr. T>: And I shall toss this soul across a far distance.
> What do you think?"
> "I don't want to know how you set it up, but it sounds good.
> As good as we're going to do anyway. How soon can we go?"
> "The sooner the better, I'd like to have it out of there
> before anyone gets curious about the paper trail. But this may just
> be an interesting exercise. We still haven't heard from Meg, after
> all."
> "I suspect Greer'll be pissed if we put him through this for
> nothing," Ben observed.
> "He'll get over it. He's knows what running an op is like,
> things don't always come off the way you planned. Sometimes they
> don't come off at all."
GAVOK: You could always try club soda.
> "Right. I guess there's nothing much for it at the moment,
> then."
> "Oh, one thing. Can you call Quest back and see if they can
> shuttle us back west? I'd like to fly the Prince of Thebes out, but
> we'll be flying Sky Dancer direct to Maine. I'd rather not fly
> commercial back to pick up the Prince. It'd be much faster if they
> can just shoot us back out."
> "I don't think it'll be a problem. I'll call them up after we
> eat."
> "OK... this afternoon, just to cover our bets, I figured I'd
> set up the fourth level of the trail. After that, I don't know. I
> was thinking about seeing if Meg wanted to go out for dinner or
> something. It'll give me a chance to talk to her some more."
> "Yeah, right."
> "Give me a break. Of course I'm interested in her. She's
> funny, attractive, intelligent, and she didn't run screaming when she
> met us.
S.D.: ...and most girls *do*?
> All factors in her favor." I was smirking again. It really
> is involuntary.
> "OK, whatever. You can borrow the car, Johnny. Be home by
> midnight. Have fun."
> "Thanks dad," I called over my shoulder on the way to my room,
> "I'll be a good boy. Oh, take over on this soup, would you? Thanks."
> It didn't take long to arrange for the last redirection - it
> is usually easier to work with the truth, or at least partial truth,
> than to make things up from whole cloth. When I returned to the
> kitchen Ben had just started doling the soup out.
GAVOK <Ben>: Hey Zoner, care for some soup?
ARL <MZ>: Sure, I'd-
GAVOK <Ben>: NO! NO SOUP FOR YOU!!
> We finished putting together the light lunch and took it to
> the living room. Sakura said her head was feeling much better, and
> her appetite was undiminished, which was relieving. She was quieter
> this afternoon - it seemed clear that, between being disowned by her
> father and the knock on the head, the day so far had given her some
> heavy things to think about.
S.D. <Sakura>: What if C-A-T spelled "Dog"?
> After lunch, I fiddled with our network for a while, but I
> knew what I was doing - I'm the world's best procrastinator. I was
> nervous about calling Meg, and I didn't want to admit it. Aside from
> personal issues, how would she feel about all the things we'd been
> doing? She never really said she wanted us to do anything, and here
> we were setting things in motion already. I mean, I knew we could
> stop them, but it was going a bit far. In my gut I felt she wouldn't
> mind,
ARL <Meg>: Oh, you're breaking federal laws for me! How sweet!
[S.D. makes gagging noises.]
> but just a little doubt is enough.
> After an hour or so of tweaking things that didn't need
> tweaking in the first place I decided there was nothing for it but to
> call her. If she wanted to go out I'd wait to tell her, I didn't want
> to tell her everything on the phone. I'm much better at that kind of
> thing face to face.
> Of course, first I had to remember what I did with that
> blasted card she had written her number on.
RACE <Zoner>: Oh crap! I gave it to Gambit!
> After silently watching
> several minutes of my frantic searching, Ben picked it up from on top
> of the TV and handed it to me without a word. That was good, because
> it saved me from acknowledging that I had looked right at it at least
> three times. At any rate, I finally dialed. She answered after a
> couple of rings, but the music on her end was so loud we couldn't hear
> each other. Once she turned it down below afterburner level we
> managed to actually converse.
> Small talk ran out after a few minutes, and I decided there was
> nothing for it but to jump straight in.
> "So, ah... have you thought any more about my proposal?"
RACE <Meg>: Yeah. You're a nice guy and all, but I don't want to ruin
the friendship we have... sorry.
> Ouch. Smooth as broken glass.
> Her response was serious, though. "Yeah... yeah, I have. I,
> uh... I talked it over with Mom and Dad. They've heard of you through
> some contacts they still have in the State Department. You didn't tell
> me you do jobs for IMF."
> "Didn't know if you'd been cleared for that," I replied. "I
> hope they haven't heard any of the really bad parts."
> "No, apparently you've got a good reputation on our side. Anyway,
> I've been thinking about it a lot and... well...
ARL <Meg>: I really did like Seven Samurai more than the Magnificent Seven.
> I'd like to go ahead
> with it, if you're still interested."
> I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. How'd you like to
> talk out the details over dinner?"
S.D. <Meg>: I don't know. Things you were hoping I would and would not say isn't a very interesting topic.
>
> THIRD-PERSON INTERLUDE
> MAIN STREET, WORCESTER
> NEAR THE FEDERAL BLDG.
>
> It started to sink in as Sakura walked up Elm Street,
RACE <Sakura>: Didn't I just fall asleep? Why am I outside? And why is a tall Choi Bounge stalking me?
> and by
> the time she was halfway to the bus station, she was so mad at her
> father that she couldn't see straight.
MMK <pedestrian>: Lady, watch out!
GAVOK: ERRRRRRRRRRR!! *crash*
TBS: The fact that bumped into a half-dozen telephone poles and two fire
hydrants was a bit of a tip-off.
> Where does he get off? she asked herself.
S.D., RACE: I'm not touching that.
[S.D. and RACE blink and look at each other.]
> I mean, it's not
> like I do drugs or anything like that.
GAVOK <Sakura>: Though I did take some testosterone pills before recording my voice for Capcom vs SNK.
> So I like the martial arts, so
> I want to learn from the best there is. What's wrong with that? I'll
> tell you this much, if it was my brother doing this, Pop sure as hell
> wouldn't disown -him-. He'd be overjoyed that his son was following
> such a manly path. But his daughter? An embarrassment.
ARL <Sakura>: I'll bet Kasumi Todo doesn't have to put up with this...
> To hell with him anyway, she thought as she turned the corner
> onto Main Street. Who needs him?
> Just then, the grey, threatening sky stopped threatening and
> started raining.
TBS <sky>: I didn't want to do this! You made me do this!
> Perfect, thought Sakura. Just exactly what I
> needed.
ARL: Seriously. She hadn't showered for a week.
S.D. <Sakura>: A dreary enviroment brought forth to provide subtle
foreshadowing to the tragedy that is about to befall me.
> She was so wrapped up in becoming steadily angrier at her
> father that she didn't even see the guy walk out of the alley behind
> the Federal Building until she ran into him. That flustered her so
> much she started apologizing in Japanese before she remembered where
> she was.
> "Oh! Gomen - er, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
> "Well, hey there, sailor girl," he said with a smile, taking a
> couple of steps back and looking her over. Sakura didn't like the
> look on his face. Come to that, she didn't like his face much; it was
> wide and oily. In fact, "wide and oily" describes the whole person
> pretty well; he had on a greasy t-shirt that looked too small for his
> shoulder muscles and jeans that had seen better decades.
ARL <singing>: He's got greasy hair, greasy smile, he says "Lord this
must be my destination..."
[ALL stare blankly at ARL.]
ARL: ...what?
GAVOK: Dude, your taste in music sucks.
> "New in
> town?" he continued, and his grin changed to a leer.
> Harsh laughter from behind Sakura; she stole a glance over her
> shoulder to see another, similar but shorter guy stepping around the
> corner of the building.
GAVOK <Boo Boo>: Gee, Yogi. Ranger Smith said we shouldn't harass little girls.
RACE: Laurel and Hardy really hit the skids...
> She realized she must have walked right past
> him on that side of the building before turning the corner herself.
> "Yeah," chortled the shorter one. "New."
> Two to one, hmm? thought Sakura. I've dealt with worse.
> "Not for long," she replied. "Soon as I can catch a bus, I'm
> out of this dump."
> "Aww, leaving so soon?" the one in front asked, stepping
> closer. Sakura stood her ground, concentrating on the rhythm of her
> breathing, her heartbeat, her center. "Hey, I've got an idea," the
> man in front of her said. "Why don't you stay a while and party with
> my friend and me?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one behind me. "Party."
RACE: So Sakura's dealing with the Ameoba Boys?
S.D.: Or Chang and Choi.
GAVOK: Nonono. Then it would be "Yessssssssssss! Party!"
> Perhaps unfortunately, Sakura didn't feel she was in any
> danger.
ARL: Social Darwinism in action.
> In fact, given the day she'd had, she was looking forward to
> what was developing here.
MMK: Certainly not her chest!
(Racewing punches MMK on the arm)
> She could feel her ki pulsing in time with
> her heartbeat, so she gathered it.
> "No thanks," she said. "Got a bus to catch and all. Maybe
> next time I'm in town."
> "Oh, well, y'know, how do we know we're gonna be in town when
> you're here next?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one. "In town."
TBS <tall guy, forcefully>: Thank you Steve, but I think she can hear
me just fine...
GAVOK <short guy>: Yeah. Just fine.
[TBS <tall guy> facepalms.]
> That little habit was starting to get on her nerves.
> "You got anyplace else to be?" Sakura asked the taller one.
> "Not really," he replied.
> "Well, there you go," she replied. "I do. So if you'll excuse
> me... "
TBS: (makes a fart noise)
> "Now honey," he said, and moved a little closer. He was
> trying to back Sakura into his friend, but she wasn't giving ground;
> looking a little impressed, he backed up again and put his hand on her
> shoulder.
GAVOK <tall man>: Vulcan Nerve Pinch!
> "That's no way to be," he continued. "All we want is for
> you to stay and party with us for a while, and then you can go and do
> what you want. I mean, it's a dangerous city, Worcester. You don't
> play your cards right, you could get hurt."
MMK: You can get papercuts and stuff.
ARL <Chinese accent>: But if you play your cards right, you live to talk
about it!
> "Yeah," said the shorter one, "play," as the taller one
> tightened his grip on her shoulder until it hurt.
> All right, I've had enough of this crap, said Sakura to
> herself. She took a half-step back, twisted her shoulder out of the
> tall one's grip in the process of backstepping into a fighting stance,
> and right on schedule she felt her ki surge and her hands tingle.
S.D.: ...and her evil blood began boiling... wait, wrong teenaged
butt-kicker trained by the main character of a video game series.
MMK: Oh yeah, Rock's got more taste than Sakura too, doesn't he? Huh, fancy that...
TBS <receptionist>: Right, I can fit you in for ki-surging and hand-tingling at three, if that's okay with you...
> "HADOKEN!" she cried, thrusting her hands forward, and the
> fireball burst out, smashing into the tall one's chest and face and
> knocking him sprawling on his back. Stepping into the follow-through,
> Sakura turned to face the short one.
> "Wha' th' fu' - ?" he blurted.
> Ooh, thought Sakura, handsome -and- articulate! Just the way
> I like them.
ALL <singing>: Uh-huh uh-huh! That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like them, uh-huh uh-huh...
> He lunged at her and tasted one of her shoes as she snapped a
> high kick under his chin. Staggering back, he wiped at his bloody
> lip.
> "Hey!" he cried. "That hurt!"
> "Yeah," Sakura replied, "hurt. SHO-OKEN!" It wasn't quite a
> perfect Rising Dragon Fist, but Sakura's version of the classic
> Shotokan uppercut did the job anyway, drilling the short one straight
> into unconsciousness.
> Dusting off her hands, Sakura turned to resume her journey to
> the bus station.
> And skidded right back to a stop again.
> The tall one was back on his feet already, singed and dazed,
> but conscious... and three other guys were filling up the sidewalk
> behind him.
GAVOK: Now if this was Metro City, this would be interesting.
> -Now- Sakura was beginning to feel a little threatened, but
> she put it aside as they rushed her. This part of the brawl started
> out pretty well for her, really, but her concentration started to fall
> apart before she'd taken even one of them down - a combination of her
> own rising panic as it began to dawn on her what they would do to her
> if they won,
ARL <Sakura>: I can't party! It's a school night!
> and fatigue. It had been a longer day, and a more tiring
> journey, than she thought.
> Get it together, Sakura, she told herself as she barely
> avoided getting clipped by one of their fists. Get it together or
> you're going to lose, and this is no friendly sparring match. You
> wanted to be a street fighter, girl... here you are. Get it --
> Together!
> She spun on one heel, lifting into the air. "Shunpuu -
> KYAKU!" Truth to tell, she wasn't entirely happy with this move
> either - it only turned her around once, it wasn't much of a Rising
> Cyclone Kick - but it worked well enough to lay out the one in the
> orange shirt.
MMK <Charlie Brown>: Good grief!
> The one in blue lunged; Sakura caught his arm and swung
> his face into the side of the Federal Building.
ARL: A practical use for government offices. Fancy that.
> She turned and
> squared off with the tall guy and his one remaining helper, this one
> in a green t-shirt, and grinned.
> "Some party, huh?" she started to ask, but she only got about
> as far as "par" before
> POW
GAVOK: A truckload of 60's Batman sound effect cards spilled onto the street! Oh, the humanity!
> the back of her head exploded, or at least, that's how it
> felt.
TBS: So does *she* have head explody, too?
> The world turned red and black, winking out entirely for an
> instant, then returning as a huge, echoing chamber full of red fog and
> pain. Sakura felt a second impact in the small of her back, then a
> third as she crashed to the sidewalk on her chin. Waves of nausea
> rolled over her like breaking surf. She struggled to get up, keep
> fighting, but she felt like she was chained to the ground. She could
> feel rather than see them close in on her...
> Somewhere nearby, there was the sound of a powerful engine, the
> squeal of tires, and the metallic clunk of a car door, followed by a
> voice Sakura hazily thought she recognized:
GAVOK <Sweet Tooth>: HOO-HOO-HEH-HEH-HEH!
> "Back away from the girl right now and I won't hurt you."
> Tramping feet, defiant sounds. Sakura dragged herself to her
> elbows and knees and tried to open her eyes.
> "Fine, have it your way."
TBS: They're being attacked by Burger King employees?
> As a strange coughing sound reached Sakura's ears, her eyes
> opened. She focused dimly on the sidewalk, then looked up in time to
> see Shorty sprawl on his back, a two-by-four with its end oddly
> splintered clattering from his slack hands. A few feet away, MegaZone
> was standing halfway out of the door of a black Suburban pulled up
> onto the curb, a gun with what looked like a spray can on the end in
> his hand.
> Then the wet pavement spiraled up at Sakura as she blacked out
> again.
MMK <Gryphon>: Now WE can have our way with her!
RACE: I will kill you, Howard.
>
> MZ
> While I encouraged the losers' retreat with my Glock, Ben ran
> around the back of the Suburban to kneel by Sakura as she slumped to
> the ground again. She didn't look good - her skin was a foreboding
> shade of grey, her school uniform torn and dirty, with a spatter of
> blood down the front of the tunic from the cuts on her chin.
GAVOK: Sakura was becoming a woman.
TBS: That's not Sakura, that's a zombie!
MMK: Or Zombie Sakura.
GAVOK: "The Shotoclones who Stopped Living and Became Incredibly Mixed-Up Zombies?"
[MMK and TBS shrug.]
> "Oh
> bloody hell," I muttered, unscrewing the custom-made sound suppressor
> from the end of the gun and putting both away as he carried her to the
> truck and laid her gently on the back seat.
> I sat down on the edge of the seat and put my fingers to
> Sakura's throat, looking for her carotid pulse. I found it easily,
> and was relieved to find it strong and regular, like her breathing.
MMK <MZ>: I then moved my hand down, to see if she had any injuries
under her-
[MMK barely ducks a mini-spatula thrown by RACE.]
> If nothing else, she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. Her
> color was bad, though, and who knew what could result from a head
> injury like that?
GAVOK: I'll go with the Dyne and Dav Saga.
> Sure, Ryu and Ben and their fellow fighters make their living
> knocking each other out, and there's an obvious danger involved with
> that. But at their skill level especially, they have such an intimate
> knowledge of their abilities and the way their bodies work that they
> can do it carefully. Any decent fighter on the circuit knows how to
> take even a knockout blow with minimal damage, and the honorable ones
> know how to throw a knockout blow with care as well, oxymoronic as
> that sounds.
> A common street thug with a two-by-four, on the other hand,
> isn't likely to be as careful or as skilled, and Sakura was both
> inexperienced and taken by surprise. Gryph I glanced at each other,
RACE: Ah. The prequel to Gryph II.
> and didn't need to elaborate on the message we exchanged with that
> brief eye contact.
S.D.: Ah, young love...
> We were both deeply worried.
S.D. <Zoner>: We both forgot to set the VCR, didn't we?
> They'd only just met the day before yesterday... for that
> matter, I'd only just met her the day before yesterday myself. And
> yet I was easily as worried as Ben. Neither of us even like kids.
GAVOK <MZ>: They're too greasy, and there's hardly enough meat on their bones...
ARL: Oh, geez! We get enough of that from Jumpy...
> We went straight to the maze of streets that crawl up Bancroft
> Hill near WPI, as fast as I could safely get the Suburban to go, then
> pulled up at a familiar house. As I entered the house's foyer
> (Gryphon behind me, cradling Sakura in his arms like a big rag doll),
> the jangling bell on the door summoned Dr. Joachim Mueller from the
> back of the house. As he entered the foyer, he recognized us
> immediately, and took in the sight of the three of us impassively.
> Dr. Mueller has known Gryph and I long enough to take this kind of
> thing in stride.
> "Well, well," he murmured, patting his large hands together.
> "You find the most interesting things for old Doctor Mueller to
> handle, don't you?"
[MMK and S.D. snicker. RACE growls.]
> Tall, white-haired, and patrician, Dr. Mueller is from
> Germany, and it still echoes in his English today. He left Germany as
> a young medical student in the late 1930s, just before Hitler plunged
> the nation into the insanity that was the Second World War. Now in
> his late seventies, he was mostly retired, but as an old friend of my
> family's, he still came out from time to time to patch me or Gryph up
> after our less than reportable injuries. I trusted his skills and his
> discretion implicitly.
> "Well, what's the story with this one?" he asked as he led us
> to the guest bedroom he used as an exam room for his infrequent
> visitors and gestured for Gryph to put Sakura down on the bed.
> Gryph and I between us told him as much of the story as we knew.
MMK <Gryphon>: Okay, sto--
[He is drowned out by the audible grinding of ARL's teeth.]
> Dr. Mueller raised an eyebrow when we got to the part about Gryph's
> ill-fated call to Sakura's father, but he said only, "Mmm, your day is
> just beginning to get complicated, then," as he bent over the guest bed.
> "Pulse is good... breathing is strong. Hello? Young lady, can you hear
> me?" He took a penlight out of his pocket, gently pried open one of
> Sakura's eyes, and shone the light in.
GAVOK <Zoner>: AUGH! PHOTONS! The sun is way too loud today!
> She blinked, flinched, and then settled slowly into the
> mattress and pillows with a long, descending groan.
> "Pupil reaction is good," mused Dr. Mueller to himself as he
> returned the pen to his pocket. "How do you feel, young lady?"
> "Like a Texaco tank truck ran over me," Sakura replied
> weakly, "backed up, and ran over me again."
> "Well, you remember your English, that's a good sign," Mueller
> replied. "Whenever I get clonked on the head, first thing I do, I
> start speaking in German again."
GAVOK: Me too.
ARL: Gavok, you don't *know* any German.
GAVOK: Sure I do! Watch.
[GAVOK smacks himself in the head with a steel chair.]
GAVOK: Mein luftkissenfahrzeug ist von den aalen voll.
> "If I was speaking German," Sakura said with a wan smile, "I'd
> really be in trouble."
MMK: Well, she knows a *little* German... and as a matter of fact, I know a little German, too!
S.D.: Well aren't *we* special?
MMK: Yup. He's sitting right over there.
[MMK points to TBS, now dressed in leiderhosen.]
TBS: Guten tag!
S.D.: ...
> "Well, let's look at your head, now. Sit up, but slowly, or
> you'll make yourself sick."
> Obediently, Sakura sat gingerly up so Mueller could look at
> the back of her head. He gently moved the blood-matted hair out of
> the way with one hand and used the other to wield the penlight again.
> "Mmm... broken skin and a bit of bleeding, but the scalp is fine, and
> you've got a good strong skull, young lady. If there were anything
> seriously wrong, I doubt I would have been able to wake you by simply
> shining a light in your eye. All right, lie back. Are you hurt
> anywhere else?"
> "Right now I hurt all over," she said, leaning her head gently
> back against the pillow.
TBS <Mueller>: Then let me kiss your booboo.
> "How does your head feel?"
RACE <Sakura>: Round?
> She considered, then reported with a slightly surprised tone,
> "No worse than the rest of me, really."
> "Also a good sign," said Mueller with a smile. "Well, I don't
> think you've suffered any permanent harm." He turned to me. "Keep an
> eye on her for the rest of today. Don't let her go to sleep until you
> turn in tonight, and only a light dinner is in order.
ARL <Mueller>: ...but don't feed her after midnight, all right?
> If she gets
> overwhelmingly drowsy, passes out, or becomes incoherent, call me and
> we'll get her over to UMassMed for some X rays. I'll also leave
> cleaning her up to you - I presume you have the medical knowledge
> necessary to clean a few cuts, ja?"
MMK <Gryphon>: Right. Sponge bath.
> I nodded, his good humor making me grin. "Thanks, Doctor."
> He waved. "Don't mention it. It's all part of the service."
> Snapping his bag shut, he turned to Sakura again. "Now you be good
> and follow my instructions, and you'll feel much better in the
> morning.
MMK <singing>: The pain will fade as time goes by... what was taken
I won't miss, or I'll replace... never mind me, I'm all right...
> All right?"
> She nodded, kind of a lying-down bow. "I will. Thank you."
> Gryph and I helped Sakura out to the Suburban for the trip
> back down the hill. She was a little unsteady, but her strength was
> returning fast, and she was getting her color back, too, by the time
> we got home a few minutes later. I felt a powerful urge to clean my
> gun.
TBS: God, at least wait until you're alone!
> It's a habit of mine, when I'm upset and don't have anyone to
> vent it on. Gryph doesn't think I know I do it; the truth is, I do it
> so I won't be able to do anything else with the gun.
S.D. <snickering>: Not like you normally do anything with your gun other
than "clean" it...
> While keeping an eye on Sakura in the living room, Gryph and I
> went to the kitchen to heat up some soup.
> "Well, now what the hell do we do?" Gryph wondered.
GAVOK <Zoner>: Put it in the microwave and press ON, you dummy.
> "I have no idea," I replied. I paused before putting the
> soup into the saucepan I had prepared. "She could stay here for a
> while, but... "
> Gryph nodded. "But she doesn't want to."
> I sighed, dumping the soup into the pan and using a wooden spoon
> to scrape out the few noodles stuck to the inside of the can. "Right,"
> I replied. "After all, Ryu's her hero, not us," I added, handing Gryph
> the can to be rinsed and put by the trash. I'm fond of this whole
> recycling thing, although Gryph thinks the stuff all gets thrown in a
> big hole together after it's trucked away anyway.
ARL: Thank you for that irrelevant aside.
> "And just because
> she's welcome doesn't mean she'll stay. We saw proof of that this
> afternoon."
> "She's got talent," Gryph observed. "We were pretty far away
> when the fight started, but I'm pretty sure I saw her throw a hadoken
> at one of them."
> I looked hard at Ben. "She's had how much formal training?"
> "None, as far as I know, unless you count Ryu's two-minute
> explanation-in-layman's-terms of the technique last month."
> I blinked. "Wow. She's got a -lot- of talent."
ARL: Okay, so let me get this straight: A fifteen-year old girl with no
formal training - just watching some guy fight - manages to effectively
emulate the Shotokan style and fight on a level that most people rarely
reach at her age, even *with* formal training.
RACE: Are you complaining?
ARL: No, I'm just saying it's a little weird, is all. I mean, if she's
like this now, then in a few years she should be able to take out most
of the other, well-trained Street Fighters without much trouble. This
is way beyond prodigy; it's closer to contrivance. No offense, Race.
RACE: None taken.
ARL: But I mean, she's got this incredible - and potentially soul
consuming - drive to succeed and be the best, I figure eventually the
Satsui no Hadou is going to kick in, and considering how badly she wants
to fight and *win*, she's probably going to go over to the Dark Side. No
offense again, Race.
RACE: None taken.
S.D.: So there could be a teenaged Little Miss Akuma running around in the
near future?
ARL: Possibly, although Capcom mostly joked about it with Dark Sakura.
[pauses] Although if this took place in '94, then technically it would be
an early twenties master of the Dark Hadou. Well, whatever.
GAVOK: What would an evil twenty-something Sakura wear, anyway?
TBS: Same thing as every other evil twenty-something female villain: Lots
and lots of leather.
MMK: Or very little leather.
[Meanwhile, RACE struggles to stem the flow of blood from his nose with a
handful of tissues.]
[...this never happens in Quasispace...]
> "And she's a good kid," Gryph went on, nodding. "A little
> narrow-focused, but... well... I'll have to talk with her about that.
> She reminds me of Chun Li - "
> "I was just about to say that, yeah - "
> "Before her father died and she got all grim and
> revenge-and-justice -"
> "Yeah. Hopefully what happened to her today will open her eyes
> and make her realize that street fighting isn't a game."
ARL: Irony? Yeah, we got that.
> "If she has enough dedication to work out the hadoken on her
> own, she's serious enough to stick with it regardless," Gryph said, a
> warning note in his voice.
> I nodded. "All the better... but she'll need training.
> Unfocused, that talent could become a danger to everyone... and in the
> wrong hands, she could become something truly terrifying."
ARL <Sakura>: Go! To! Hell! [pauses] Come to think of it, a twenty-something Evil Sakura *would* be kind
of cool...
MMK: A twenty-something Evil Sakura wearing practically nothing, you mean.
[RACE passes out. MMK and GAVOK glance over at him.]
GAVOK: Man, that's a lot of blood.
MMK: Looks like a Dusty Rhodes - Terry Funk match took place.
> Our eyes met, and Ben knew exactly whose hands I was talking
> about.
TBS <Gryphon> and S.D. <Zoner>: Jean Luke!
> Ryu had fallen into those same hands once, before either of
> them was a World Warrior, and "truly terrifying" is a good description
> of what he had become, for a time.
GAVOK: Mutton chops and a mullet. Scary times, man.
> "Ryu won't change his mind," Gryph said. "You know how he
> is." He blew a breath out, puffing his cheeks. "All right, look, why
> don't we do it like this. I'll get Rose to come down and look after
> her tomorrow. We can push the timetable on the Area 51 thing up, get
> it out of the way. Once we're back home, I can sit down and figure
> out what the hell I'm going to do with her."
> "-We- can figure out what -we're- going to do," I corrected.
> "Her father didn't make her your responsibility," said Gryph.
> "I don't want to drag you into the mess too... "
> "You're helping me out with this thing for Meg, aren't you?"
> I shrugged. "We're partners. Your problems are my problems."
> He smiled. "Thanks. Have you got the cover story in place
> for the sneak yet?"
ARL: I have a feeling this is going to take a while...
> "Well, I -think- I've got it. DARPA has requested Sky Dancer
> and its contents for transfer to an undisclosed research project. If
> anyone digs into it, it looks like it's under the auspicies of the
> CIA. The CIA will pawn it off on NASA for administration. NASA says
> no, that project was transferred, now being run by the NSA and they
> don't have any need to know where it is. If they manage to get the
> NSA to admit to anything, they thought the Air Force had it at Area 51
> but had unmothballed it and was using it for research. The Air Force,
> of course, says no, it was taken for a research project.
> "Now, either they loop around again, or they find the second
> level of misdirection.
TBS <Gryphon>: Please note that at no time do my fingers leave my hands.
> Seems the Royal Navy wanted to test its
> submersible capabilities. But if you ask them, they don't know
> anything about it, but they've heard MI-5 is up to something with it.
> MI-5 has absolutely nothing to do with it, you must be thinking of
> MI-6. MI-6 sure doesn't have it, but the Royal Air Force and SAS have
> been testing something. Maybe you should check with them. The SAS
> will tell you to bugger off, but the RAF thinks the Royal Navy is
> using it as a technology demonstrator for an SBS project. No, been
> there? Sorry chap, don't know.
> "OK, so that's a dead end. Back to Area 51 to try again. If
> they dig -really- deep they'll find an indication that it went back to
> the manufacturer. Of course, Lockheed hasn't had it since it left the
> Works. Maybe you meant the chief designer on Project Sky Dancer,
> they'd heard that Mr. Hackenbacker was working on a new project.
ARL <Hackenbacker>: Look! It's errupting like a real volcano!
> Yes,
> we have a business relationship with him. Sorry, we can't give you
> any details. No, I don't care what clearance you have, I know it
> isn't high enough. Mr. Hackenbacker guards his privacy very
> jealously. Good day.
> "In light of what you set up the other day, I think I'll set
> up a fourth level. The Sky Dancer was transferred to the Quest
> Foundation for an indefinite period of time, for research purposes.
> As for who authorized that, well, I pity the person who'll follow that
> path.
GAVOK <Mr. T>: And I shall toss this soul across a far distance.
> What do you think?"
> "I don't want to know how you set it up, but it sounds good.
> As good as we're going to do anyway. How soon can we go?"
> "The sooner the better, I'd like to have it out of there
> before anyone gets curious about the paper trail. But this may just
> be an interesting exercise. We still haven't heard from Meg, after
> all."
> "I suspect Greer'll be pissed if we put him through this for
> nothing," Ben observed.
> "He'll get over it. He's knows what running an op is like,
> things don't always come off the way you planned. Sometimes they
> don't come off at all."
GAVOK: You could always try club soda.
> "Right. I guess there's nothing much for it at the moment,
> then."
> "Oh, one thing. Can you call Quest back and see if they can
> shuttle us back west? I'd like to fly the Prince of Thebes out, but
> we'll be flying Sky Dancer direct to Maine. I'd rather not fly
> commercial back to pick up the Prince. It'd be much faster if they
> can just shoot us back out."
> "I don't think it'll be a problem. I'll call them up after we
> eat."
> "OK... this afternoon, just to cover our bets, I figured I'd
> set up the fourth level of the trail. After that, I don't know. I
> was thinking about seeing if Meg wanted to go out for dinner or
> something. It'll give me a chance to talk to her some more."
> "Yeah, right."
> "Give me a break. Of course I'm interested in her. She's
> funny, attractive, intelligent, and she didn't run screaming when she
> met us.
S.D.: ...and most girls *do*?
> All factors in her favor." I was smirking again. It really
> is involuntary.
> "OK, whatever. You can borrow the car, Johnny. Be home by
> midnight. Have fun."
> "Thanks dad," I called over my shoulder on the way to my room,
> "I'll be a good boy. Oh, take over on this soup, would you? Thanks."
> It didn't take long to arrange for the last redirection - it
> is usually easier to work with the truth, or at least partial truth,
> than to make things up from whole cloth. When I returned to the
> kitchen Ben had just started doling the soup out.
GAVOK <Ben>: Hey Zoner, care for some soup?
ARL <MZ>: Sure, I'd-
GAVOK <Ben>: NO! NO SOUP FOR YOU!!
> We finished putting together the light lunch and took it to
> the living room. Sakura said her head was feeling much better, and
> her appetite was undiminished, which was relieving. She was quieter
> this afternoon - it seemed clear that, between being disowned by her
> father and the knock on the head, the day so far had given her some
> heavy things to think about.
S.D. <Sakura>: What if C-A-T spelled "Dog"?
> After lunch, I fiddled with our network for a while, but I
> knew what I was doing - I'm the world's best procrastinator. I was
> nervous about calling Meg, and I didn't want to admit it. Aside from
> personal issues, how would she feel about all the things we'd been
> doing? She never really said she wanted us to do anything, and here
> we were setting things in motion already. I mean, I knew we could
> stop them, but it was going a bit far. In my gut I felt she wouldn't
> mind,
ARL <Meg>: Oh, you're breaking federal laws for me! How sweet!
[S.D. makes gagging noises.]
> but just a little doubt is enough.
> After an hour or so of tweaking things that didn't need
> tweaking in the first place I decided there was nothing for it but to
> call her. If she wanted to go out I'd wait to tell her, I didn't want
> to tell her everything on the phone. I'm much better at that kind of
> thing face to face.
> Of course, first I had to remember what I did with that
> blasted card she had written her number on.
RACE <Zoner>: Oh crap! I gave it to Gambit!
> After silently watching
> several minutes of my frantic searching, Ben picked it up from on top
> of the TV and handed it to me without a word. That was good, because
> it saved me from acknowledging that I had looked right at it at least
> three times. At any rate, I finally dialed. She answered after a
> couple of rings, but the music on her end was so loud we couldn't hear
> each other. Once she turned it down below afterburner level we
> managed to actually converse.
> Small talk ran out after a few minutes, and I decided there was
> nothing for it but to jump straight in.
> "So, ah... have you thought any more about my proposal?"
RACE <Meg>: Yeah. You're a nice guy and all, but I don't want to ruin
the friendship we have... sorry.
> Ouch. Smooth as broken glass.
> Her response was serious, though. "Yeah... yeah, I have. I,
> uh... I talked it over with Mom and Dad. They've heard of you through
> some contacts they still have in the State Department. You didn't tell
> me you do jobs for IMF."
> "Didn't know if you'd been cleared for that," I replied. "I
> hope they haven't heard any of the really bad parts."
> "No, apparently you've got a good reputation on our side. Anyway,
> I've been thinking about it a lot and... well...
ARL <Meg>: I really did like Seven Samurai more than the Magnificent Seven.
> I'd like to go ahead
> with it, if you're still interested."
> I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. How'd you like to
> talk out the details over dinner?"
S.D. <Meg>: I don't know. Things you were hoping I would and would not say isn't a very interesting topic.
>
> THIRD-PERSON INTERLUDE
> MAIN STREET, WORCESTER
> NEAR THE FEDERAL BLDG.
MMK: Current mood: Self absorbed! ^_^
> It started to sink in as Sakura walked up Elm Street,
RACE <Sakura>: Didn't I just fall asleep? Why am I outside? And why is a tall Choi Bounge stalking me?
> and by
> the time she was halfway to the bus station, she was so mad at her
> father that she couldn't see straight.
MMK <pedestrian>: Lady, watch out!
GAVOK: ERRRRRRRRRRR!! *crash*
TBS: The fact that bumped into a half-dozen telephone poles and two fire
hydrants was a bit of a tip-off.
> Where does he get off? she asked herself.
S.D., RACE: I'm not touching that.
[S.D. and RACE blink and look at each other.]
> I mean, it's not
> like I do drugs or anything like that.
GAVOK <Sakura>: Though I did take some testosterone pills before recording my voice for Capcom vs SNK.
> So I like the martial arts, so
> I want to learn from the best there is. What's wrong with that? I'll
> tell you this much, if it was my brother doing this, Pop sure as hell
> wouldn't disown -him-.
TBS: Unfortunately for Mr. Kasugano, he was studying percussion under cross-dressing composer Gareth Farr.
> He'd be overjoyed that his son was following
> such a manly path. But his daughter? An embarrassment.
ARL <Sakura>: I'll bet Kasumi Todo doesn't have to put up with this...
> To hell with him anyway, she thought as she turned the corner
> onto Main Street. Who needs him?
> Just then, the grey, threatening sky stopped threatening and
> started raining.
TBS <sky>: I didn't want to do this! You made me do this!
> Perfect, thought Sakura. Just exactly what I
> needed.
ARL: Seriously. She hadn't showered for a week.
S.D. <Sakura>: A dreary enviroment brought forth to provide subtle
foreshadowing to the tragedy that is about to befall me.
> She was so wrapped up in becoming steadily angrier
GAVOK <Sakura, posing>: Grrrr... KAMEKAMEHA!
> at her
> father that she didn't even see the guy walk out of the alley behind
> the Federal Building until she ran into him. That flustered her so
> much she started apologizing in Japanese before she remembered where
> she was.
> "Oh! Gomen - er, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
> "Well, hey there, sailor girl," he said with a smile, taking a
> couple of steps back and looking her over. Sakura didn't like the
> look on his face.
RACE <Sakura>: Who the hell puts sunshine yellow face paint on their cheeks?
> Come to that, she didn't like his face much; it was
> wide and oily.
TBS: If a nuclear submarine had crashed into the ExxonValdez spill all those years ago... THIS would have been the result.
> In fact, "wide and oily" describes the whole person
> pretty well; he had on a greasy t-shirt that looked too small for his
> shoulder muscles and jeans that had seen better decades.
ARL <singing>: He's got greasy hair, greasy smile, he says "Lord this
must be my destination..."
[ALL stare blankly at ARL.]
ARL: ...what?
GAVOK: Dude, your taste in music sucks.
> "New in
> town?" he continued, and his grin changed to a leer.
> Harsh laughter from behind Sakura; she stole a glance over her
> shoulder to see another, similar but shorter guy stepping around the
> corner of the building.
GAVOK <Boo Boo>: Gee, Yogi. Ranger Smith said we shouldn't harass little girls.
RACE: Laurel and Hardy really hit the skids...
> She realized she must have walked right past
> him on that side of the building before turning the corner herself.
> "Yeah," chortled the shorter one. "New."
> Two to one, hmm? thought Sakura. I've dealt with worse.
> "Not for long," she replied. "Soon as I can catch a bus, I'm
> out of this dump."
> "Aww, leaving so soon?" the one in front asked, stepping
> closer. Sakura stood her ground, concentrating on the rhythm of her
> breathing, her heartbeat, her center. "Hey, I've got an idea," the
> man in front of her said. "Why don't you stay a while and party with
> my friend and me?"
> "Yeah," said the shorter one behind me. "Party."
RACE: So Sakura's dealing with the Ameoba Boys?
S.D.: Or Chang and Choi.
GAVOK: Nonono. Then it would be "Yessssssssssss! Party!"
> Perhaps unfortunately, Sakura didn't feel she was in any
> danger.
ARL: Social Darwinism in action.
> In fact, given the day she'd had, she was looking forward to
> what was developing here.
MMK: Certainly not her chest!
(Racewing punches MMK on the arm)
> She could feel her ki pulsing in time with
> her heartbeat, so she gathered it.
S.D: Here we go gathering nuts and Ki.
> "No thanks," she said. "Got a bus to catch and all. Maybe
> next time I'm in town."
> "Oh, well, y'know, how do we know we're gonna be in town when
> you're here next?"
MMK <Sakura>: I'll page you.
GAVOK <Guy>: Oh, cool! See you, then!
TBS: It was about five days before either of them realised that neither had a pager.
> "Yeah," said the shorter one. "In town."
TBS <tall guy, forcefully>: Thank you Steve, but I think she can hear
me just fine...
GAVOK <short guy>: Yeah. Just fine.
[TBS <tall guy> facepalms.]
> That little habit was starting to get on her nerves.
> "You got anyplace else to be?" Sakura asked the taller one.
> "Not really," he replied.
> "Well, there you go," she replied. "I do. So if you'll excuse
> me... "
GAVOK: (makes a fart noise)
> "Now honey," he said, and moved a little closer. He was
> trying to back Sakura into his friend, but she wasn't giving ground;
TBS: [Rolling 2d6] Yes! God bless leadership 10.
> looking a little impressed, he backed up again and put his hand on her
> shoulder.
GAVOK <tall man>: Vulcan Nerve Pinch!
> "That's no way to be," he continued. "All we want is for
> you to stay and party with us for a while, and then you can go and do
> what you want. I mean, it's a dangerous city, Worcester. You don't
> play your cards right, you could get hurt."
MMK: You can get papercuts and stuff.
ARL <Chinese accent>: But if you play your cards right, you live to talk
about it!
> "Yeah," said the shorter one, "play,"
GAVOK <Short guy>: ...was a fine album that was criminally overplayed on radio and movies. The B-sides disk released later was actually more enjoyable than the album, at that point.
RACE <Tall guy>: Look, you, just stand there and crony, all right?
as the taller one
> tightened his grip on her shoulder until it hurt.
> All right, I've had enough of this crap, said Sakura to
> herself. She took a half-step back, twisted her shoulder out of the
> tall one's grip in the process of backstepping into a fighting stance,
> and right on schedule she felt her ki surge and her hands tingle.
S.D.: ...and her evil blood began boiling... wait, wrong teenaged
butt-kicker trained by the main character of a video game series.
MMK: Oh yeah, Rock's got more taste than Sakura too, doesn't he? Huh, fancy that...
TBS <receptionist>: Right, I can fit you in for ki-surging and hand-tingling at three, if that's okay with you...
> "HADOKEN!" she cried, thrusting her hands forward, and the
> fireball burst out, smashing into the tall one's chest and face and
> knocking him sprawling on his back. Stepping into the follow-through,
> Sakura turned to face the short one.
> "Wha' th' fu' - ?" he blurted.
> Ooh, thought Sakura, handsome -and- articulate! Just the way
> I like them.
ALL <singing>: Uh-huh uh-huh! That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like them, uh-huh uh-huh...
> He lunged at her and tasted one of her shoes as she snapped a
> high kick under his chin.
S.D <Guy>: Hey, Indian Rubber! Needs ketchup.
> Staggering back, he wiped at his bloody
> lip.
> "Hey!" he cried. "That hurt!"
> "Yeah," Sakura replied, "hurt. SHO-OKEN!" It wasn't quite a
> perfect Rising Dragon Fist, but Sakura's version of the classic
> Shotokan uppercut did the job anyway,
GAVOK: On P! P! V!
> drilling the short one straight
> into unconsciousness.
> Dusting off her hands, Sakura turned to resume her journey to
> the bus station.
> And skidded right back to a stop again.
> The tall one was back on his feet already, singed and dazed,
> but conscious... and three other guys were filling up the sidewalk
> behind him.
GAVOK: Now if this was Metro City, this would be interesting.
> -Now- Sakura was beginning to feel a little threatened, but
> she put it aside as they rushed her. This part of the brawl started
> out pretty well for her, really, but her concentration started to fall
> apart before she'd taken even one of them down - a combination of her
> own rising panic as it began to dawn on her what they would do to her
> if they won,
ARL <Sakura>: I can't party! It's a school night!
> and fatigue. It had been a longer day, and a more tiring
> journey, than she thought.
> Get it together, Sakura, she told herself as she barely
> avoided getting clipped by one of their fists. Get it together or
> you're going to lose, and this is no friendly sparring match. You
> wanted to be a street fighter, girl... here you are. Get it --
> Together!
> She spun on one heel, lifting into the air. "Shunpuu -
> KYAKU!" Truth to tell, she wasn't entirely happy with this move
> either - it only turned her around once, it wasn't much of a Rising
> Cyclone Kick - but it worked well enough to lay out the one in the
> orange shirt.
MMK <Charlie Brown>: Good grief!
> The one in blue lunged; Sakura caught his arm and swung
> his face into the side of the Federal Building.
ARL: A practical use for government offices. Fancy that.
> She turned and
> squared off with the tall guy and his one remaining helper, this one
> in a green t-shirt, and grinned.
> "Some party, huh?" she started to ask, but she only got about
> as far as "par" before
> POW
GAVOK: A truckload of 60's Batman sound effect cards spilled onto the street! Oh, the humanity!
> the back of her head exploded, or at least, that's how it
> felt.
TBS: So does *she* have head explody, too?
> The world turned red and black, winking out entirely for an
> instant, then returning as a huge, echoing chamber full of red fog and
> pain.
MMK: Oh, Hammer Horror, how I missed thee.
> Sakura felt a second impact
ARL: Bad pun, fifteen minutes.
> in the small of her back, then a
> third as she crashed to the sidewalk on her chin. Waves of nausea
> rolled over her like breaking surf. She struggled to get up, keep
> fighting, but she felt like she was chained to the ground.
RACE: Don't make me hurt you, story.
> She could
> feel rather than see them close in on her...
> Somewhere nearby, there was the sound of a powerful engine, the
> squeal of tires, and the metallic clunk of a car door, followed by a
> voice Sakura hazily thought she recognized:
GAVOK <Sweet Tooth>: HOO-HOO-HEH-HEH-HEH!
> "Back away from the girl right now and I won't hurt you."
> Tramping feet, defiant sounds.
TBS <Zod>: Do you defy me, sounds? I am the ruler of Planet Houston! KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!
> Sakura dragged herself to her
> elbows and knees and tried to open her eyes.
> "Fine, have it your way."
TBS: They're being attacked by Burger King employees?
> As a strange coughing sound reached Sakura's ears, her eyes
> opened.
ARL: Ukyuo was there, and kicking ass.
She focused dimly on the sidewalk, then looked up in time to
> see Shorty sprawl on his back, a two-by-four with its end oddly
> splintered clattering from his slack hands. A few feet away, MegaZone
> was standing halfway out of the door of a black Suburban pulled up
> onto the curb, a gun with what looked like a spray can on the end in
> his hand.
ARL: He's here to tag, bizotch!
MMK <Kid 1>: ALL street art is personal and precious! It's the physical manifestation of our discontent as young adults!
GAVOK <Kid 2>: It's okay I guess. I mean if you like boners.
> Then the wet pavement spiraled up at Sakura as she blacked out
> again.
MMK <Gryphon>: Now WE can have our way with her!
RACE: I will kill you, Howard.
>
> MZ
> While I encouraged the losers' retreat with my Glock, Ben ran
> around the back of the Suburban to kneel by Sakura as she slumped to
> the ground again. She didn't look good - her skin was a foreboding
> shade of grey, her school uniform torn and dirty, with a spatter of
> blood down the front of the tunic from the cuts on her chin.
GAVOK: Sakura was becoming a woman.
TBS: That's not Sakura, that's a zombie!
MMK: Or Zombie Sakura.
GAVOK: "The Shotoclones who Stopped Living and Became Incredibly Mixed-Up Zombies?"
[MMK and TBS shrug.]
> "Oh
> bloody hell," I muttered, unscrewing the custom-made sound suppressor
ARL: So... silencer.
MMK: Ayup.
ARL: Why does he say these things, when he knows I must hurt him for it?
> from the end of the gun and putting both away as he carried her to the
> truck and laid her gently on the back seat.
> I sat down on the edge of the seat and put my fingers to
> Sakura's throat,
MMK <Gryphon>: Watch this. INSTANT DEATH TOUCH!
GAVOK <Zoner>: Great, now we have to find *more* Anime booty.
> looking for her carotid pulse. I found it easily,
> and was relieved to find it strong and regular, like her breathing.
MMK <MZ>: I then moved my hand down, to see if she had any injuries
under her-
[MMK barely ducks a mini-spatula thrown by RACE.]
> If nothing else, she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. Her
> color was bad, though, and who knew what could result from a head
> injury like that?
GAVOK: I'll go with the Dyne and Dav Saga.
> Sure, Ryu and Ben and their fellow fighters make their living
> knocking each other out, and there's an obvious danger involved with
> that. But at their skill level especially, they have such an intimate
> knowledge of their abilities and the way their bodies work that they
> can do it carefully. Any decent fighter on the circuit knows how to
> take even a knockout blow with minimal damage, and the honorable ones
> know how to throw a knockout blow with care as well, oxymoronic as
> that sounds.
ARL: So I punch you out... with love.
TBS: Works in Alabama.
> A common street thug with a two-by-four, on the other hand,
> isn't likely to be as careful or as skilled, and Sakura was both
> inexperienced and taken by surprise. Gryph I glanced at each other,
RACE: Ah. The prequel to Gryph II.
> and didn't need to elaborate on the message we exchanged with that
> brief eye contact.
S.D.: Ah, young love...
> We were both deeply worried.
S.D. <Zoner>: We both forgot to set the VCR, didn't we?
> They'd only just met the day before yesterday... for that
> matter, I'd only just met her the day before yesterday myself. And
> yet I was easily as worried as Ben. Neither of us even like kids.
GAVOK <MZ>: They're too greasy, and there's hardly enough meat on their bones...
ARL: Oh, geez! We get enough of that from Jumpy...
> We went straight to the maze of streets that crawl up Bancroft
> Hill near WPI, as fast as I could safely get the Suburban to go, then
> pulled up at a familiar house. As I entered the house's foyer
RACE <Zoner>: ...the doors closed behind us with an ominous yell. "Go check around that way" Gryphon said, shortly before becoming zombie fodder...
> (Gryphon behind me, cradling Sakura in his arms like a big rag doll),
> the jangling bell on the door summoned Dr. Joachim Mueller from the
> back of the house. As he entered the foyer, he recognized us
> immediately,
TBS <Dr. Mueller>: I already *buy* from Amway, you pesky fucks!
> and took in the sight of the three of us impassively.
> Dr. Mueller has known Gryph and I long enough to take this kind of
> thing in stride.
> "Well, well," he murmured, patting his large hands together.
> "You find the most interesting things for old Doctor Mueller to
> handle, don't you?"
[MMK and S.D. snicker. RACE growls.]
> Tall, white-haired, and patrician,
TBS: With a little terrier called Wuffles...
> Dr. Mueller is from
> Germany, and it still echoes in his English today. He left Germany as
> a young medical student in the late 1930s, just before Hitler plunged
> the nation into the insanity that was the Second World War. Now in
> his late seventies, he was mostly retired, but as an old friend of my
> family's, he still came out from time to time to patch me or Gryph up
> after our less than reportable injuries. I trusted his skills and his
> discretion implicitly.
> "Well, what's the story with this one?"
S.D: Oh yeah. Discrete like a hand grenade.
> he asked as he led us
> to the guest bedroom he used as an exam room for his infrequent
> visitors and gestured for Gryph to put Sakura down on the bed.
> Gryph and I between us told him as much of the story as we knew.
MMK <Gryphon>: Okay, sto--
[He is drowned out by the audible grinding of ARL's teeth.]
> Dr. Mueller raised an eyebrow when we got to the part about Gryph's
> ill-fated call to Sakura's father, but he said only, "Mmm, your day is
> just beginning to get complicated, then," as he bent over the guest bed.
> "Pulse is good... breathing is strong. Hello? Young lady, can you hear
> me?" He took a penlight out of his pocket, gently pried open one of
> Sakura's eyes, and shone the light in.
GAVOK <Zoner>: AUGH! PHOTONS! The sun is way too loud today!
> She blinked, flinched, and then settled slowly into the
> mattress and pillows with a long, descending groan.
> "Pupil reaction is good," mused Dr. Mueller to himself as he
> returned the pen to his pocket. "How do you feel, young lady?"
> "Like a Texaco tank truck ran over me," Sakura replied
> weakly, "backed up, and ran over me again."
> "Well, you remember your English, that's a good sign," Mueller
> replied. "Whenever I get clonked on the head, first thing I do, I
> start speaking in German again."
GAVOK: Me too.
ARL: Gavok, you don't *know* any German.
GAVOK: Sure I do! Watch.
[GAVOK smacks himself in the head with a steel chair.]
GAVOK: Mein luftkissenfahrzeug ist von den aalen voll.
> "If I was speaking German," Sakura said with a wan smile, "I'd
> really be in trouble."
MMK: Well, she knows a *little* German... and as a matter of fact, I know a little German, too!
S.D.: Well aren't *we* special?
MMK: Yup. He's sitting right over there.
[MMK points to TBS, now dressed in leiderhosen.]
TBS: Guten tag!
S.D.: ...
> "Well, let's look at your head, now. Sit up, but slowly, or
> you'll make yourself sick."
> Obediently, Sakura sat gingerly up so Mueller could look at
> the back of her head. He gently moved the blood-matted hair out of
> the way with one hand and used the other to wield the penlight again.
> "Mmm... broken skin and a bit of bleeding, but the scalp is fine, and
> you've got a good strong skull, young lady. If there were anything
> seriously wrong, I doubt I would have been able to wake you by simply
> shining a light in your eye. All right, lie back. Are you hurt
> anywhere else?"
S.D, MMK: PORN TRIGGER!
RACE: Cut that the hell out!
> "Right now I hurt all over," she said, leaning her head gently
> back against the pillow.
TBS <Mueller>: Then let me kiss your booboo.
> "How does your head feel?"
RACE <Sakura>: Round?
> She considered, then reported with a slightly surprised tone,
> "No worse than the rest of me, really."
> "Also a good sign," said Mueller with a smile. "Well, I don't
> think you've suffered any permanent harm." He turned to me. "Keep an
> eye on her for the rest of today. Don't let her go to sleep until you
> turn in tonight, and only a light dinner is in order.
ARL <Mueller>: ...but don't feed her after midnight, all right?
> If she gets
> overwhelmingly drowsy, passes out, or becomes incoherent, call me and
> we'll get her over to UMassMed for some X rays. I'll also leave
> cleaning her up to you - I presume you have the medical knowledge
> necessary to clean a few cuts, ja?"
MMK <Gryphon>: Right. Sponge bath.
> I nodded, his good humor making me grin. "Thanks, Doctor."
> He waved. "Don't mention it. It's all part of the service."
> Snapping his bag shut, he turned to Sakura again. "Now you be good
> and follow my instructions, and you'll feel much better in the
> morning.
MMK <singing>: The pain will fade as time goes by... what was taken
I won't miss, or I'll replace... never mind me, I'm all right...
> All right?"
> She nodded, kind of a lying-down bow.
ARL: So, a sit-up.
MMK: Yeah, these personal trainers will say crazy things to get each other to do one more sit-up, one more crunch.
ARL: Right.
MMK: That's what makes it extreme.
ARL: Just... quiet.
> "I will. Thank you."
> Gryph and I helped Sakura out to the Suburban for the trip
> back down the hill. She was a little unsteady, but her strength was
> returning fast, and she was getting her color back, too, by the time
> we got home a few minutes later. I felt a powerful urge to clean my
> gun.
TBS: God, at least wait until you're alone!
> It's a habit of mine, when I'm upset and don't have anyone to
> vent it on. Gryph doesn't think I know I do it; the truth is, I do it
> so I won't be able to do anything else with the gun.
S.D. <snickering>: Not like you normally do anything with your gun other
than "clean" it...
> While keeping an eye on Sakura in the living room, Gryph and I
> went to the kitchen to heat up some soup.
> "Well, now what the hell do we do?" Gryph wondered.
GAVOK <Zoner>: Put it in the microwave and press ON, you dummy.
MMK <Gryph, reading>: How to kill people with microwave ovens. A beginners guide.
> "I have no idea," I replied. I paused before putting the
> soup into the saucepan I had prepared.
MMK <Gryph, reading>: First, put someone in a microwave. Then, turn it on.
GAVOK <Zoner>: But they wouldn't fit.
MMK <Gryph>: Oh.
>"She could stay here for a
> while, but... "
> Gryph nodded. "But she doesn't want to."
MMK <Gryph>: But if it was a very *big* microwave...
GAVOK <Zoner>: No.
MMK <Gryph>: Or a very little person...
GAVOK <Zoner>: No.
> I sighed, dumping the soup into the pan and using a wooden spoon
> to scrape out the few noodles stuck to the inside of the can. "Right,"
> I replied. "After all, Ryu's her hero, not us,"
ARL: But, by God, it won't stop them from re-writing her entirely!
RACE: Yeah, just look at Shingo in Ultra.
[ARL shudders]
>I added, handing Gryph
> the can to be rinsed and put by the trash. I'm fond of this whole
> recycling thing, although Gryph thinks the stuff all gets thrown in a
> big hole together after it's trucked away anyway.
ARL: Thank you for that irrelevant aside.
> "And just because
> she's welcome doesn't mean she'll stay. We saw proof of that this
> afternoon."
> "She's got talent," Gryph observed. "We were pretty far away
> when the fight started, but I'm pretty sure I saw her throw a hadoken
> at one of them."
> I looked hard at Ben. "She's had how much formal training?"
> "None, as far as I know, unless you count Ryu's two-minute
> explanation-in-layman's-terms of the technique last month."
> I blinked. "Wow. She's got a -lot- of talent."
ARL: Okay, so let me get this straight: A fifteen-year old girl with no
formal training - just watching some guy fight - manages to effectively
emulate the Shotokan style and fight on a level that most people rarely
reach at her age, even *with* formal training.
RACE: Are you complaining?
ARL: No, I'm just saying it's a little weird, is all. I mean, if she's
like this now, then in a few years she should be able to take out most
of the other, well-trained Street Fighters without much trouble. This
is way beyond prodigy; it's closer to contrivance. No offense, Race.
RACE: None taken.
ARL: But I mean, she's got this incredible - and potentially soul
consuming - drive to succeed and be the best, I figure eventually the
Satsui no Hadou is going to kick in, and considering how badly she wants
to fight and *win*, she's probably going to go over to the Dark Side. No
offense again, Race.
RACE: None taken.
S.D.: So there could be a teenaged Little Miss Akuma running around in the
near future?
ARL: Possibly, although Capcom mostly joked about it with Dark Sakura.
[pauses] Although if this took place in '94, then technically it would be
an early twenties master of the Dark Hadou. Well, whatever.
GAVOK: What would an evil twenty-something Sakura wear, anyway?
TBS: Same thing as every other evil twenty-something female villain: Lots
and lots of leather.
MMK: Or very little leather.
[Meanwhile, RACE struggles to stem the flow of blood from his nose with a
handful of tissues.]
[...this never happens in Quasispace...]
> "And she's a good kid," Gryph went on, nodding. "A little
> narrow-focused, but... well... I'll have to talk with her about that.
> She reminds me of Chun Li - "
> "I was just about to say that, yeah - "
> "Before her father died and she got all grim and
> revenge-and-justice -"
> "Yeah. Hopefully what happened to her today will open her eyes
> and make her realize that street fighting isn't a game."
ARL: Irony? Yeah, we got that.
> "If she has enough dedication to work out the hadoken on her
> own, she's serious enough to stick with it regardless," Gryph said, a
> warning note in his voice.
> I nodded. "All the better... but she'll need training.
> Unfocused, that talent could become a danger to everyone... and in the
> wrong hands, she could become something truly terrifying."
ARL <Sakura>: Go! To! Hell! [pauses] Come to think of it, a twenty-something Evil Sakura *would* be kind
of cool...
MMK: A twenty-something Evil Sakura wearing practically nothing, you mean.
[RACE passes out. MMK and GAVOK glance over at him.]
GAVOK: Man, that's a lot of blood.
MMK: Looks like a Dusty Rhodes - Terry Funk match took place.
> Our eyes met, and Ben knew exactly whose hands I was talking
> about.
TBS <Gryphon> and S.D. <Zoner>: Jean Luke!
> Ryu had fallen into those same hands once, before either of
> them was a World Warrior, and "truly terrifying" is a good description
> of what he had become, for a time.
GAVOK: Mutton chops and a mullet. Scary times, man.
> "Ryu won't change his mind," Gryph said. "You know how he
> is." He blew a breath out, puffing his cheeks. "All right, look, why
> don't we do it like this. I'll get Rose to come down and look after
> her tomorrow. We can push the timetable on the Area 51 thing up, get
> it out of the way. Once we're back home, I can sit down and figure
> out what the hell I'm going to do with her."
> "-We- can figure out what -we're- going to do," I corrected.
> "Her father didn't make her your responsibility," said Gryph.
> "I don't want to drag you into the mess too... "
> "You're helping me out with this thing for Meg, aren't you?"
> I shrugged. "We're partners. Your problems are my problems."
> He smiled. "Thanks. Have you got the cover story in place
> for the sneak yet?"
ARL: I have a feeling this is going to take a while...
> "Well, I -think- I've got it. DARPA has requested Sky Dancer
> and its contents for transfer to an undisclosed research project.
[MMK folds a scarf around his head. GAVOK pulls himself into his hat, and TBS dumps a popcorn bucket over his head. They start snoring.]
ARL: Yeah, it *is* hard to keep a good legal story interesting.
>If
> anyone digs into it, it looks like it's under the auspicies of the
> CIA. The CIA will pawn it off on NASA for administration. NASA says
> no, that project was transferred, now being run by the NSA and they
> don't have any need to know where it is.
RACE: I parsed that as NRA for a second.
S.D: That wasn't funny and you know it.
[RACE sighs]
> If they manage to get the
> NSA to admit to anything, they thought the Air Force had it at Area 51
> but had unmothballed it and was using it for research. The Air Force,
> of course, says no, it was taken for a research project.
> "Now, either they loop around again, or they find the second
> level of misdirection.
TBS <Gryphon, muffled>: Please note that at no time do my fingers leave my hands.
> Seems the Royal Navy wanted to test its
> submersible capabilities. But if you ask them, they don't know
> anything about it, but they've heard MI-5 is up to something with it.
ARL: Isn't MI-5 part of a completely different country?
S.D: In the Hutchinsverse, all secret organisations are just one big boys club.
> MI-5 has absolutely nothing to do with it, you must be thinking of
> MI-6. MI-6 sure doesn't have it, but the Royal Air Force and SAS have
> been testing something. Maybe you should check with them. The SAS
> will tell you to bugger off, but the RAF thinks the Royal Navy is
> using it as a technology demonstrator for an SBS project. No, been
> there? Sorry chap, don't know.
> "OK, so that's a dead end. Back to Area 51 to try again. If
> they dig -really- deep they'll find an indication that it went back to
> the manufacturer. Of course, Lockheed hasn't had it since it left the
> Works. Maybe you meant the chief designer on Project Sky Dancer,
> they'd heard that Mr. Hackenbacker was working on a new project.
ARL <Hackenbacker>: Look! It's errupting like a real volcano!
> Yes,
> we have a business relationship with him. Sorry, we can't give you
> any details. No, I don't care what clearance you have, I know it
> isn't high enough. Mr. Hackenbacker guards his privacy very
> jealously. Good day.
> "In light of what you set up the other day, I think I'll set
> up a fourth level. The Sky Dancer was transferred to the Quest
> Foundation for an indefinite period of time, for research purposes.
> As for who authorized that, well, I pity the person who'll follow that
> path.
GAVOK <Mr. T>: And I shall toss this soul across a far distance.
> "I don't want to know how you set it up, but it sounds good.
> As good as we're going to do anyway. How soon can we go?"
> "The sooner the better, I'd like to have it out of there
> before anyone gets curious about the paper trail. But this may just
> be an interesting exercise. We still haven't heard from Meg, after
> all."
> "I suspect Greer'll be pissed if we put him through this for
> nothing," Ben observed.
> "He'll get over it. He's knows what running an op is like,
> things don't always come off the way you planned. Sometimes they
> don't come off at all."
GAVOK: You could always try club soda.
> "Right. I guess there's nothing much for it at the moment,
> then."
> "Oh, one thing. Can you call Quest back and see if they can
> shuttle us back west? I'd like to fly the Prince of Thebes out, but
> we'll be flying Sky Dancer direct to Maine. I'd rather not fly
> commercial back to pick up the Prince. It'd be much faster if they
> can just shoot us back out."
> "I don't think it'll be a problem. I'll call them up after we
> eat."
> "OK... this afternoon, just to cover our bets, I figured I'd
> set up the fourth level of the trail. After that, I don't know. I
> was thinking about seeing if Meg wanted to go out for dinner or
> something. It'll give me a chance to talk to her some more."
> "Yeah, right."
> "Give me a break. Of course I'm interested in her. She's
> funny, attractive, intelligent, and she didn't run screaming when she
> met us.
S.D.: ...and most girls *do*?
> All factors in her favor." I was smirking again. It really
> is involuntary.
MMK <Thomas Wilde>: The man's basically a life support system for a smirk.
WANDERER [Over Intercom]: Five cents per quote, James!
> "OK, whatever. You can borrow the car, Johnny. Be home by
> midnight. Have fun."
> "Thanks dad," I called over my shoulder on the way to my room,
> "I'll be a good boy. Oh, take over on this soup, would you? Thanks."
> It didn't take long to arrange for the last redirection - it
> is usually easier to work with the truth, or at least partial truth,
> than to make things up from whole cloth. When I returned to the
> kitchen Ben had just started doling the soup out.
GAVOK <Ben>: Hey Zoner, care for some soup?
ARL <MZ>: Sure, I'd-
GAVOK <Ben>: NO! NO SOUP FOR YOU!!
> We finished putting together the light lunch and took it to
> the living room. Sakura said her head was feeling much better, and
> her appetite was undiminished, which was relieving. She was quieter
> this afternoon - it seemed clear that, between being disowned by her
> father and the knock on the head, the day so far had given her some
> heavy things to think about.
S.D. <Sakura>: What if C-A-T spelled "Dog"?
> After lunch, I fiddled with our network for a while, but I
> knew what I was doing - I'm the world's best procrastinator. I was
> nervous about calling Meg, and I didn't want to admit it. Aside from
> personal issues, how would she feel about all the things we'd been
> doing?
S.D <Meg>: It's okay, my brother, he had some weird hobbies-
MMK <Zoner>: With a butterfly net.
S.D <Meg>: You FILTHY ANIMAL!
> She never really said she wanted us to do anything, and here
> we were setting things in motion already.
ARL <Zoner>: If I wasn't omniscient, I might be worried.
> I mean, I knew we could
> stop them, but it was going a bit far. In my gut I felt she wouldn't
> mind,
ARL <Meg>: Oh, you're breaking federal laws for me! How sweet!
[S.D. makes gagging noises.]
> but just a little doubt is enough.
> After an hour or so of tweaking things that didn't need
> tweaking in the first place I decided there was nothing for it but to
> call her. If she wanted to go out I'd wait to tell her, I didn't want
> to tell her everything on the phone. I'm much better at that kind of
> thing face to face.
TBS <Zoner>: Can we meet face to face? I'm on good on the phone. See, I have this condition...
> Of course, first I had to remember what I did with that
> blasted card she had written her number on.
RACE <Zoner>: Oh crap! I gave it to Gambit!
> After silently watching
> several minutes of my frantic searching, Ben picked it up from on top
> of the TV and handed it to me without a word. That was good, because
> it saved me from acknowledging that I had looked right at it at least
> three times. At any rate, I finally dialed. She answered after a
> couple of rings, but the music on her end was so loud we couldn't hear
> each other. Once she turned it down below afterburner level we
> managed to actually converse.
> Small talk ran out after a few minutes, and I decided there was
> nothing for it but to jump straight in.
> "So, ah... have you thought any more about my proposal?"
RACE <Meg>: Yeah. You're a nice guy and all, but I don't want to ruin
the friendship we have... sorry.
> Ouch. Smooth as broken glass.
> Her response was serious, though. "Yeah... yeah, I have. I,
> uh... I talked it over with Mom and Dad.
RACE <Meg>: They told me to stay the hell away from a convicted pedarist such as yourself.
> They've heard of you through
> some contacts they still have in the State Department. You didn't tell
> me you do jobs for IMF."
> "Didn't know if you'd been cleared for that," I replied.
TBS: I like that. The International Monetary Fund has a higher security rating than the secret services of three Western super-powers.
ARL: And what're they going to use a 'freelance spy' for in the first place? Hitting third world leaders over the head with a two by four when they can't make the payments?
S.D <Zoner>: Hello, China? IMF calling. We're going to have to repossess the Great Wall. Look, buddy, *fuck* your wife and kids.
> "I
> hope they haven't heard any of the really bad parts."
> "No, apparently you've got a good reputation on our side. Anyway,
> I've been thinking about it a lot and... well...
ARL <Meg>: I really did like Seven Samurai more than the Magnificent Seven.
> I'd like to go ahead
> with it, if you're still interested."
> I grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. How'd you like to
> talk out the details over dinner?"
S.D. <Meg>: I don't know. Things you were hoping I would and would not say isn't a very interesting topic.
>
> Ah, Bancroft Tower on a bright and sunny morning in the
> summertime. The smell of the trees and the new-mown grass... the
> looming grey bulk of the monument... the roar of the crowd.
> The crowd?
> Well, maybe not a crowd, really, but a pretty good-sized
> gathering, anyway. The local folks know that Gryphon fights, and a
> lot of them are his fans - whenever he fights here at the Tower, the
> WPI Science Fiction Society turns out en masse, even though some of
> them aren't really into violence, to cheer him on, and a lot of the
> local businesses send their support. After all, a World Warrior-level
> street fighter's reputation has a tendency to keep the streets quiet,
> and he and I -have- stopped a few local crimes just by happening to be
> in various local stores when some unfortunate idiot decided to shake
> the place down.
> I was also pleased to see that the WPI Campus Police had sent
> a representative, or perhaps she had taken it upon herself to come;
> either way, the presence of Sergeant Janet Marshall, in uniform,
> promised to keep the crowd under control. Not that Gryph has a
> problem with unruly fans most of the time, but you can never be too
> secure. Janet's a hell of a fighter in her own right. Once, I saw
> her break up a brawl in the Wedge with her bare hands, five big guys
> with knives and broken bottles and she didn't get a scratch.
> You might find the presence of local law enforcement, in
> uniform but not doing anything, at the site of an illegal street fight
> kind of odd, but it's that way in a lot of places. The cooler cops
> know that the real fighters, the ones who register with outfits like
> the WCMAT Authority, are trained and for the most part know what
> they're doing, and that they accept the risks inherent in the game.
> Nobody ever gets hurt in one of Gryphon's matches who isn't willing to
> get hurt, and, like I mentioned before, his rep keeps the local crime
> rate down. They know he's a straight arrow, and so they look the
> other way, and sometimes, like Janet, they turn up to provide a little
> crowd control and give the proceedings an air of legitimacy.
> Besides, I think Janet's kind of sweet on Ben, though she'd
> probably hurt me if I mentioned it. If I were him I don't think
> it'd hurt my feelings if she were; Janet's not exactly what I'd call
> hard on the eyes.
> Gryphon's "arena" isn't fancy; it's just the square of
> more-or-less-flat asphalt in front of Bancroft Tower's walkway, from
> the two mini-turrets (and the line of Jersey barricades between them)
> to the wall that keeps people from driving off the hill, bordered on
> the sides by the turrets themselves. Gryphon stood by one turret, Ryu
> the other; Gryphon was wearing a black-and-white NIN shirt, his old
> jeans, his gloves and his Batman cap, while Ryu had his usual white
> gi, headband and vambraces.
> Janet separated herself from the spectators, then, and went to
> the middle of the ring, and I realized that she was going to ref for
> Ben, something she does occasionally for his home fights, though not
> always. Whenever she does, it's an extra incentive for his opponent
> to stay in line, not that she had anything to worry about with Ryu.
> I felt a hand on my arm; turning, I was surprised (and
> pleased) to see Meg grinning at me.
> "Meg!" I declared. "How'd you get here?"
> She shrugged. "Hitched."
> "That's dangerous," I pointed out, trying (and failing) to be
> stern.
> She rolled her eyes adorably. "I think I can take care of
> myself. Anyway, I wanted to see the fight, but I figured you'd be a
> little busy to come and pick me up."
> "Well, you're just in time," I said, "I think it's about to
> start."
> Just as I said it, Janet cleared her throat and announced the
> fight.
> "Ladies and gentlemen!" she declared in the clear, loud voice
> they teach at cop school for crowd control. "May I introduce today's
> challenger! A Shotokan Karate fighter from Tokyo, Japan, with a
> hundred and eight wins - ninety-nine by knockout - three losses and
> two draws: Ryu Hoshi!"
> As Ryu stepped out to the middle of the ring, on Janet's left,
> most of the crowd, knowing Gryphon's fondness for politeness,
> applauded. A couple of high-school kids toward the back booed and
> yelled "YOU SUCK!", and I could see Gryphon making a mental note to
> speak to them later. Alone among the spectators, Sakura cheered
> wildly.
> "And Bancroft Tower's champion, an Icon of Stone Ler Drit
> fighter with sixty-seven wins - fifty-four by knockout - two losses
> and no draws: Ben 'Gryphon' Hutchins!"
> Now the crowd cheered as Gryph took his place on Janet's
> right, save those two jerks in the back, who still booed, and Sakura,
> who was entirely silent.
> "OK, you guys, here are the rules. No choke holds. No
> intentional dislocations or broken bones. If the other guy quits, you
> stop. Got it?"
> They nodded.
> "Shake hands," Janet said; Gryphon and Ryu shook, then backed
> up a couple of steps and bowed.
> "Ready?" asked Janet. Gryphon nodded. She looked to Ryu; he
> tightened his headband, then nodded as well. "Fight!" said Janet, and
> she backed up behind the Jersey barricades.
> Ryu didn't waste any time; as soon as Janet was out of the
> way, he leaped up and forward as if going for a drop kick, but landed
> short, trying for a leg sweep. He caught Gryph flat-footed (pardon
> the expression) with that one, tripping him up; Gryph had been fading
> back and preparing a punch counter for the kick, and fell heavily to
> his back on the pavement, but almost immediately rolled to his feet
> and launched a spinning back fist. Ryu stepped smoothly into the path
> and blocked the fist with his left forearm, launching a jab with his
> right; Gryph ducked under it and shot an off-hand ducking fierce into
> Ryu's gut.
> He should've flared it, I thought to myself as Ryu was shoved
> back a little by the force of the blow. Then I realized why Gryph
> hadn't done just that - he was already channeling his Ler, using it
> for the push-off in the second part of his ducking-fierce-to-knee-thrust
> combo. With his Ler pushing him, he exploded up from the crouch, left
> knee outstretched, and the knee plowed up under Ryu's chin, knocking
> him over backward. As Gryph landed, feet spread, Ryu got unsteadily
> to his feet and wobbled for a moment.
> Capitalizing on his window of opportunity, Gryph swung into
> his double high kick; the first blow caught Ryu full in the face, but
> seemed to wake him up. The Shotokan fighter ducked the second kick
> and, while Gryph was still winding out of his spin, Ryu cocked his
> hands at his side, eyebrows colliding. I winced, knowing what was
> next:
> "HADOKEN!" The fireball crashed into Gryphon's midsection
> from point-blank range, drawing an audible grunt as the air was forced
> out of his lungs, and as Gryph stumbled back, Ryu kept his crouch and
> wound into a stance I knew, from watching previous fights, meant
> trouble.
> "SHORYUKEN!" Ryu cried, launching himself up in one of the
> other signature moves of his style. It was a textbook blow, caught
> Gryph right under the chin, picked up him and dumped him on the
> ground, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn into little X's at
> the moment of impact. Gryphon didn't bounce to his feet with quite
> the same speed as he had last time, but get up he did, with that gleam
> in his eyes that showed he was really enjoying the fight, and his
> hands flared and crackling with energy.
> Again Ryu wasted no time, launching himself into a Hurricane
> Kick (with appropriate shout), but this time, Gryph was ready for
> him, his flared arms raised and crossed in a block. Ryu's kick shoved
> him back a little, but as Ryu was busy landing, Gryph moved with all
> the deceptive speed his opponents rarely give him credit for, darting
> his left hand forward, seizing Ryu's head face-on, and, forearm
> muscles bulging, lifted him clean off the ground. Ryu raised his
> hands to Gryph's wrist, but he was already completing the throw,
> slamming Ryu down on the ground as if he were spiking a football after
> a touchdown.
> Ryu rolled a couple of feet away and got back to his feet,
> settling into his ready stance, looking battered, but not bowed. He
> nodded, ever so slightly, with respect, and waited for Gryph to make
> the next move.
> Gryphon did not disappoint; reflaring his hands, he swept them
> forward in a crackling arc and unleashed his Psycho Lightning.
> Unfortunately, the sweep gave Ryu enough warning; he jumped over it,
> knocking Gryph back with a flying kick and landing in front of him in
> good position for another Dragon Punch.
> Gryph grinned, just a little, and his eyes gleamed.
> Then he swung into his most complicated combo, the one I'd
> seen him pull off a grand total of three times so far in his career:
> a fast and vicious three-puncher, left jab, right cross, left
> uppercut, that drove Ryu back enough for Gryph to go into a seamless
> double kick. By the first kick's impact, Ryu was already unconscious;
> the second kick juggled him back into a semblance of a standing
> position, and then he toppled over backward and sprawled on the
> pavement. There was one move left in the combo, but Gryphon saw there
> was no need for it and arrested his motion before he could follow his
> falling opponent down on one knee and bounce his head off the asphalt
> with another left jab.
> The crowd went nuts as Janet shouted "Champion wins!"
>
> G
> Ryu was already sitting up and holding his head by the time
> Janet and I reached him; I offered him a hand up, which he accepted,
> and as I drew him to his feet, he clapped his other hand to my
> shoulder and grinned.
> "You're better than you were last time," he said.
> "I beat you last time, too," I pointed out.
> Ryu shrugged. "What is it the fans of the local baseball
> team say? There's always next year."
> As Janet got out a penlight and checked both our eyes to make
> sure we weren't walking around with any lethal brain hemorrhages
> going, we noticed we were no longer alone in the ring; a small figure
> in a sailor outfit had broken away from the crowd and was edging
> toward us, hesitant, with a mixture of concern and appalled shock on
> her face.
> As Ryu turned to face her, Sakura looked up at him and said
> incredulously, "You... you -lost-." She looked somewhere between
> astounded and crushed, as if she'd just seen a street gang mug Santa
> Claus.
> "It happens," Ryu replied, nodding. "Not often, but it
> happens."
> "But - "
> Ken prevented us from ever finding out exactly what her
> protest would have entailed. He hadn't forgotten his promise to take
> on the winner, and now, even if the winner hadn't turned out to be the
> one he thought it would be, his fighter's ego wouldn't let him back
> down.
> I won't bore you with the details of our fight. Did I win?
> Hah! The day I can defeat Ryu AND Ken in succession is the day I go
> to M. Bison's island fortress and rifle his sock drawer.
> When I came to, I thought that somebody, maybe Janet, maybe
> Cammy, was mopping at my face with a wet cloth. Then, after a few
> moments of gathering my brains back together, I realized it was
> actually Fury, and, lacking thumbs, he wasn't using a cloth.
> "Eyagh," I remarked, pushing him away and sitting slowly and
> carefully up. Nothing rattled around too badly, so I tried standing.
> I must confess I accidentally copped a bit of a feel when Janet rushed
> to prop me up with her shoulder, but it wasn't intentional, I wasn't
> in a position to enjoy it much, and she didn't seem to notice.
> Focusing my eyes on the quintet before me, I saw that Ryu,
> Sakura, Cammy and Zoner looked worried, while Ken looked contrite.
> "Well," I grumbled, testing my arm and leg joints to make sure
> everything still bent in the right direction and -only- the right
> direction, "I hope you're satisfied, Ken."
> "Woof," said Fury reproachfully. I scratched his ears.
> Ken hung his head. "I guess I'm kind of a jerk, huh."
> "I guess," I said as severely as I could, but when he peeked
> out at me through his bushy reddish eyebrows, my severity cracked and
> I snickered. "But aren't we all, at times? Tell you what, I'll
> forgive you if you'll forgive Ryu."
> Ken looked dubious for a moment, then smiled and turned to
> Ryu. "OK... put 'er there, pal."
> Ryu smiled and took his old friend's hand.
> "All right. Now I'm gonna get some Tylenol in this head of
> mine, and we're gonna go celebrate. Who's with me?"
>
> The staff at Ping's Garden have learned to roll with it when I
> turn up on their doorstep with a small horde of hungry people. And a
> horde we were, rampaging and ravenous: me, Ryu, and Ken, showered,
> changed and starting to show some bruises; Janet, now off-duty and out
> of uniform in t-shirt and jeans; Charlie; Rose; Sakura; Cammy; Zoner,
> happy as could be since he'd been smart enough not to bet on my
> second fight, or maybe just because Meg Bennett had turned up; and
> Meg, sprightly as always.
> Again, I think I'll just leave the details to your
> imagination. We ordered a ton of stuff, passed it around, swapped
> entrees, cadged each other's appetizers, and gorged ourselves silly.
> We told embarrassing stories about each other, asked personal
> questions, renewed old friendships and began a few new ones. When the
> meal was done, Rose had to get back to Maine, Charlie to wherever he'd
> come from (he didn't mention it and we didn't ask), Meg to Boston and
> Cammy to Scotland; the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
> for a raucous evening of video gaming.
> Here, we six, as a group, learned many interesting things
> about each other.
> - I would rather play S.T.U.N. Runner than anything else in
> the joint.
> - Zoner is a big fan of Hard Drivin'.
> - Janet kicks -ass- at Lethal Enforcers. (What a surprise,
> huh?)
> - Sakura is hell on little red sneakers at air hockey.
> - Ken is not very good at Karate Master.
> - Ryu is the galaxy's most inept driver.
> We had a hell of a good time, though. Playoff had a new game,
> the second in Sega's Virtua Fighter series - a unique series, not only
> for its rendered-polygon technology, but also for the fact that the
> characters in the game are based on real fighters, some of whom we
> knew. We all had a good laugh at the thought of the real Jacky
> Bryant's hair being all polygonal and spikey like that.
> "Huh," said Ken, watching Ryu and Zoner go at it on VF2.
> "Y'know, we should get together and with some game company and do
> something like this." He grinned.
> "Oh great," Janet observed. "Next thing you know every
> league's got its own game. What's that second-string circuit where
> they allow body armor and blunt weapons?"
> Sakura snorted. "The Vipers? Nobody'd touch a game with
> -those- sleazebags in it."
> "I suppose not," Ken said, warming to his idea, "but we've got
> charm and class! Only wouldn't it be cool if, instead of this 3D
> polygon stuff, it was a hand-drawn anime-style game, y'know, with 2D
> animated sprites, like a modern version of Karate Master? Yeah,
> that'd kick! I'll have to make some calls."
> "I'd pay real money to see you get M. Bison to agree to be in
> a video game," I remarked.
> "Watch me," Ken said with a smirk. "He'll do it; it'll feed
> his ego."
> "Why hand-drawn?" Janet wondered.
> Ken shrugged. "Looks cool. Cooler than polygons, anyway. If
> you get the right artists."
> "If you're going to make it sprite-based," Ryu wondered,
> pausing for a moment to take Zoner for a ride on Splash Mountain, "why
> not use digitized photos of the fighters?"
> Ken, Sakura, Zoner, Janet and I all winced together and said
> in unison, "Eew!"
> "OK, maybe not," Ryu said, shrugging and returning his full
> concentration to the game.
>
> END BATTLE 03
>
>
>
>
> Ah, Bancroft Tower on a bright and sunny morning in the
> summertime. The smell of the trees and the new-mown grass... the
> looming grey bulk of the monument...
[ALL hum the theme to "2001: A Space Odyssey."]
> the roar of the crowd.
> The crowd?
> Well, maybe not a crowd, really, but a pretty good-sized
> gathering, anyway. The local folks know that Gryphon fights, and a
> lot of them are his fans - whenever he fights here at the Tower, the
> WPI Science Fiction Society turns out en masse, even though some of
> them aren't really into violence, to cheer him on, and a lot of the
> local businesses send their support. After all, a World Warrior-level
> street fighter's reputation has a tendency to keep the streets quiet,
[There's a Dan joke in here, but...]
> and he and I -have- stopped a few local crimes just by happening to be
> in various local stores when some unfortunate idiot decided to shake
> the place down.
> I was also pleased to see that the WPI Campus Police had sent
> a representative, or perhaps she had taken it upon herself to come;
> either way, the presence of Sergeant Janet Marshall, in uniform,
> promised to keep the crowd under control. Not that Gryph has a
> problem with unruly fans most of the time, but you can never be too
> secure. Janet's a hell of a fighter in her own right. Once, I saw
> her break up a brawl in the Wedge with her bare hands, five big guys
> with knives and broken bottles and she didn't get a scratch.
ARL: Of course she used an M-16 to break it up, but never mind that.
> You might find the presence of local law enforcement, in
> uniform but not doing anything, at the site of an illegal street fight
> kind of odd, but it's that way in a lot of places. The cooler cops
> know that the real fighters, the ones who register with outfits like
> the WCMAT Authority, are trained and for the most part know what
> they're doing, and that they accept the risks inherent in the game.
> Nobody ever gets hurt in one of Gryphon's matches who isn't willing to
> get hurt, and, like I mentioned before, his rep keeps the local crime
> rate down. They know he's a straight arrow, and so they look the
> other way, and sometimes, like Janet, they turn up to provide a little
> crowd control and give the proceedings an air of legitimacy.
> Besides, I think Janet's kind of sweet on Ben, though she'd
> probably hurt me if I mentioned it. If I were him I don't think
> it'd hurt my feelings if she were; Janet's not exactly what I'd call
> hard on the eyes.
> Gryphon's "arena" isn't fancy; it's just the square of
> more-or-less-flat asphalt in front of Bancroft Tower's walkway, from
> the two mini-turrets (and the line of Jersey barricades between them)
> to the wall that keeps people from driving off the hill, bordered on
> the sides by the turrets themselves. Gryphon stood by one turret, Ryu
> the other; Gryphon was wearing a black-and-white NIN shirt, his old
> jeans, his gloves and his Batman cap, while Ryu had his usual white
> gi, headband and vambraces.
> Janet separated herself from the spectators, then, and went to
> the middle of the ring, and I realized that she was going to ref for
> Ben, something she does occasionally for his home fights, though not
> always. Whenever she does, it's an extra incentive for his opponent
> to stay in line, not that she had anything to worry about with Ryu.
> I felt a hand on my arm; turning, I was surprised (and
> pleased) to see Meg grinning at me.
> "Meg!" I declared. "How'd you get here?"
> She shrugged. "Hitched."
> "That's dangerous," I pointed out, trying (and failing) to be
> stern.
> She rolled her eyes adorably.
TBS: Then she scratched her butt adorably, took a bite out of her greasy Taquito adorably, then belched.
S.D.: Adorably, I take it.
TBS: Heck no. Who ever heard of belching adorably?
S.D.: ...
RACE <Meg>: Itsy-bitsy cutey-wutey Meggy-chan is sooo kawaii! WAIIII!!!
ARL: Race?
RACE: Yes?
ARL: DON'T DO THAT.
> "I think I can take care of
> myself. Anyway, I wanted to see the fight, but I figured you'd be a
> little busy to come and pick me up."
> "Well, you're just in time," I said, "I think it's about to
> start."
> Just as I said it, Janet cleared her throat and announced the
> fight.
> "Ladies and gentlemen!" she declared in the clear, loud voice
> they teach at cop school for crowd control. "May I introduce today's
> challenger! A Shotokan Karate fighter from Tokyo, Japan, with a
> hundred and eight wins - ninety-nine by knockout - three losses and
> two draws: Ryu Hoshi!"
> As Ryu stepped out to the middle of the ring, on Janet's left,
> most of the crowd, knowing Gryphon's fondness for politeness,
> applauded. A couple of high-school kids toward the back booed and
> yelled "YOU SUCK!",
GAVOK <Ryu>: I don't suck; I'm just in a different quality bracket!
> and I could see Gryphon making a mental note to
> speak to them later. Alone among the spectators, Sakura cheered
> wildly.
> "And Bancroft Tower's champion, an Icon of Stone Ler Drit
> fighter with sixty-seven wins - fifty-four by knockout - two losses
> and no draws: Ben 'Gryphon' Hutchins!"
> Now the crowd cheered as Gryph took his place on Janet's
> right, save those two jerks in the back, who still booed, and Sakura,
> who was entirely silent.
> "OK, you guys, here are the rules. No choke holds. No
> intentional dislocations or broken bones. If the other guy quits, you
> stop. Got it?"
ARL: Nothing about foreign objects?
GAVOK: All RIGHT!! Hardcore rules Street Fighter!
> They nodded.
> "Shake hands," Janet said; Gryphon and Ryu shook, then backed
> up a couple of steps and bowed.
> "Ready?" asked Janet. Gryphon nodded. She looked to Ryu; he
> tightened his headband, then nodded as well. "Fight!" said Janet, and
> she backed up behind the Jersey barricades.
> Ryu didn't waste any time; as soon as Janet was out of the
> way, he leaped up and forward as if going for a drop kick, but landed
> short, trying for a leg sweep. He caught Gryph flat-footed (pardon
> the expression) with that one, tripping him up; Gryph had been fading
> back and preparing a punch counter for the kick, and fell heavily to
> his back on the pavement, but almost immediately rolled to his feet
> and launched a spinning back fist. Ryu stepped smoothly into the path
> and blocked the fist with his left forearm, launching a jab with his
> right; Gryph ducked under it and shot an off-hand ducking fierce into
> Ryu's gut.
> He should've flared it, I thought to myself as Ryu was shoved
> back a little by the force of the blow. Then I realized why Gryph
> hadn't done just that - he was already channeling his Ler, using it
> for the push-off in the second part of his ducking-fierce-to-knee-thrust
> combo. With his Ler pushing him, he exploded up from the crouch,
S.D.: Who's the wise guy that planted the land mines?
RACE: Okay, why did I just read that as "exploded up from the crotch?"
MMK: "Ben Hutchins remote detonated my balls?"
> left
> knee outstretched, and the knee plowed up under Ryu's chin, knocking
> him over backward. As Gryph landed, feet spread, Ryu got unsteadily
> to his feet and wobbled for a moment.
> Capitalizing on his window of opportunity, Gryph swung into
> his double high kick; the first blow caught Ryu full in the face, but
> seemed to wake him up.
TBS: A cup of coffee would have done the same thing.
> The Shotokan fighter ducked the second kick
> and, while Gryph was still winding out of his spin, Ryu cocked his
> hands at his side, eyebrows colliding.
MMK <singing>: ...and this is what it's like when eyebrows COLLIDE!!
Are you ready to go? Yes I'm ready to go, what'cha wanna do, bay-bay,
bay-bay...
> I winced, knowing what was
> next:
> "HADOKEN!" The fireball crashed into Gryphon's midsection
> from point-blank range, drawing an audible grunt as the air was forced
> out of his lungs, and as Gryph stumbled back, Ryu kept his crouch and
> wound into a stance I knew, from watching previous fights, meant
> trouble.
> "SHORYUKEN!" Ryu cried, launching himself up in one of the
> other signature moves of his style.
TBS: Often imitated... and often duplicated, actually.
ARL: Right now all the shoto-scrubs are salivating at the thought of
being able to combo a Hadoken into a Shoryuken.
RACE: Just salivating?
ARL: Well, possibly other things, but I'd like to keep this conversation
at a PG level, thank you.
> It was a textbook blow, caught
> Gryph right under the chin, picked up him and dumped him on the
> ground, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn into little X's at
> the moment of impact. Gryphon didn't bounce to his feet with quite
> the same speed as he had last time, but get up he did, with that gleam
> in his eyes that showed he was really enjoying the fight, and his
> hands flared and crackling with energy.
> Again Ryu wasted no time, launching himself into a Hurricane
> Kick (with appropriate shout), but this time, Gryph was ready for
> him, his flared arms raised and crossed in a block. Ryu's kick shoved
> him back a little, but as Ryu was busy landing, Gryph moved with all
> the deceptive speed his opponents rarely give him credit for, darting
> his left hand forward, seizing Ryu's head face-on,
MMK <singing>: I will make you smell the glove...
[A faraway "Ding!" echoes in the theater.]
>and, forearm
> muscles bulging, lifted him clean off the ground. Ryu raised his
> hands to Gryph's wrist, but he was already completing the throw,
> slamming Ryu down on the ground as if he were spiking a football after
> a touchdown.
GAVOK: It's the Wyler Throw! Yeah!
RACE: "Wyler Throw?" Who the hell is Wyler?
[Long pause.]
GAVOK: You want to know who Wyler is?
RACE: Well, yeah.
GAVOK <agitated>: *You* want to know who *Wyler* is?!
RACE: Um... yes...
GAVOK: YOU WANT TO *KNOW* WHO WYLER *IS?!?*
RACE: Well, if you're going to-
GAVOK: WYLER IS YOUR *GOD*, FOOL!!!
[The entire theater begins to shake. Suddenly, part of the left wall
explodes outwards in a shower of bricks, and WYLER, an eight-foot tall
overmuscled behemoth of a man in torn pants, lumbers through.]
WYLER: Who say they not know Wyler??
[ALL BUT RACE leap out of their seats and scatter. WYLER lumbers over to
a terrified RACE and glares at him.]
WYLER: You not know Wyler? Then you PAY!
[WYLER reaches out with and picks up RACE by the head. He rears back and
prepares his Wyler Throw (tm) when a woman wearing a black jacket and wielding a whip runs through the hole in the wall.]
WOMAN <shouting behind her>: Hey Proto, he's here!
WYLER: Crap.
[WYLER drops RACE and runs through the opposite wall, scattering bricks
hither and yon. The WOMAN chases after him, followed by a man who looks
exactly like Genjuro from "Samurai Shodown."]
MAN: Yo Edgey, don't lose him! <to himself> Damn it, Gunsmith ain't payin'
me enough for this...
[They both disappear through the hole in the wall. Silence reigns for a
few moments, and ALL slowly return to their seats.]
ARL: That was... even more random than usual.
S.D.: No kidding.
GAVOK: Now you know the true power of Wyler, Racewing.
RACE: ...I hate this theater.
[...oy. Sorry again. -RoP]
> Ryu rolled a couple of feet away and got back to his feet,
> settling into his ready stance, looking battered,
GAVOK: Kentucky Fried Shotokan!
> but not bowed. He
> nodded, ever so slightly, with respect, and waited for Gryph to make
> the next move.
> Gryphon did not disappoint; reflaring his hands, he swept them
> forward in a crackling arc and unleashed his Psycho Lightning.
> Unfortunately, the sweep gave Ryu enough warning; he jumped over it,
> knocking Gryph back with a flying kick and landing in front of him in
> good position for another Dragon Punch.
ARL: As for the people standing behind Ryu... well...
> Gryph grinned, just a little, and his eyes gleamed.
MMK <Gryphon>: Aku wa yurusen!
> Then he swung into his most complicated combo, the one I'd
> seen him pull off a grand total of three times so far in his career:
> a fast and vicious three-puncher, left jab, right cross, left
> uppercut, that drove Ryu back enough for Gryph to go into a seamless
> double kick.
MMK <Strider> and GAVOK <Wolverine>: Amateur.
[I'd have Wandy say something, but then I'd be jumped by Shade yelling "MADS DON'T RIFF!! MADS DON'T RIFF!! BLAAAARGH!!" -RoP]
> By the first kick's impact, Ryu was already unconscious;
> the second kick juggled him back into a semblance of a standing
> position, and then he toppled over backward and sprawled on the
> pavement. There was one move left in the combo, but Gryphon saw there
> was no need for it and arrested his motion before he could follow his
> falling opponent down on one knee and bounce his head off the asphalt
> with another left jab.
> The crowd went nuts as Janet shouted "Champion wins!"
[ALL watch the screen in stunned silence.]
ARL: I'm sorry, but I did NOT just see Gryphon beat Ryu Hoshi...
RACE: Yes you did.
ARL: You're not helping!
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it.
S.D.: You're not gonna say it.
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it!
S.D.: You're not gonna say it!
GAVOK: Fine, I won't. But Snotters and Knight will.
TBS, MMK: Who *booked* this crap?
>
> G
> Ryu was already sitting up and holding his head by the time
> Janet and I reached him; I offered him a hand up, which he accepted,
> and as I drew him to his feet, he clapped his other hand to my
> shoulder and grinned.
> "You're better than you were last time," he said.
> "I beat you last time, too," I pointed out.
ARL: I'm sorry, is this some other version of Ryu that we don't know about?
Some version that didn't beat M. Bison, Akuma, Gill and goodness knows how
many other people?
RACE: Woah! Hold the phone, I just thought of something! Y'know how Ryu's
supposed to be the greatest fighter ever, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and Akuma's looking for great warriors to fight against, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and anyone who managed to defeat Ryu, not once but TWICE has to be
a great fighter, right?
ARL: I suppose so, but what are you-
[A beat. ARL smirks.]
ARL: Hutchins just stepped in it big-time, didn't he?
RACE: Oh yeah.
> Ryu shrugged. "What is it the fans of the local baseball
> team say? There's always next year."
> As Janet got out a penlight and checked both our eyes to make
> sure we weren't walking around with any lethal brain hemorrhages
> going, we noticed we were no longer alone in the ring; a small figure
> in a sailor outfit had broken away from the crowd and was edging
> toward us, hesitant, with a mixture of concern and appalled shock on
> her face.
> As Ryu turned to face her, Sakura looked up at him and said
> incredulously, "You... you -lost-."
GAVOK <Sakura>: You SUCK! That's it, I'm obsessing over Terry Bogard
from now on!
> She looked somewhere between
> astounded and crushed, as if she'd just seen a street gang mug Santa
> Claus.
> "It happens," Ryu replied, nodding. "Not often, but it
> happens."
> "But - "
> Ken prevented us from ever finding out exactly what her
> protest would have entailed. He hadn't forgotten his promise to take
> on the winner, and now, even if the winner hadn't turned out to be the
> one he thought it would be, his fighter's ego wouldn't let him back
> down.
> I won't bore you with the details of our fight. Did I win?
ARL <Gryphon>: Did I ever!
RACE: Bitter?
ARL: Yes.
> Hah! The day I can defeat Ryu AND Ken in succession is the day I go
> to M. Bison's island fortress and rifle his sock drawer.
> When I came to, I thought that somebody, maybe Janet, maybe
> Cammy, was mopping at my face with a wet cloth. Then, after a few
> moments of gathering my brains back together, I realized it was
> actually Fury, and, lacking thumbs, he wasn't using a cloth.
> "Eyagh," I remarked, pushing him away and sitting slowly and
> carefully up. Nothing rattled around too badly, so I tried standing.
> I must confess I accidentally copped a bit of a feel when Janet rushed
> to prop me up with her shoulder, but it wasn't intentional,
RACE: Right.
> I wasn't
> in a position to enjoy it much,
RACE: Riiiiight.
> and she didn't seem to notice.
S.D. <Janet>: Do that again and I Rodney King your ass.
> Focusing my eyes on the quintet before me, I saw that Ryu,
> Sakura, Cammy and Zoner looked worried, while Ken looked contrite.
> "Well," I grumbled, testing my arm and leg joints to make sure
> everything still bent in the right direction and -only- the right
> direction, "I hope you're satisfied, Ken."
> "Woof," said Fury reproachfully. I scratched his ears.
> Ken hung his head. "I guess I'm kind of a jerk, huh."
> "I guess," I said as severely as I could, but when he peeked
> out at me through his bushy reddish eyebrows, my severity cracked and
> I snickered. "But aren't we all, at times?
TBS <Gryphon>: Well, besides me of course.
> Tell you what, I'll
> forgive you if you'll forgive Ryu."
> Ken looked dubious for a moment, then smiled and turned to
> Ryu. "OK... put 'er there, pal."
> Ryu smiled and took his old friend's hand.
> "All right. Now I'm gonna get some Tylenol in this head of
> mine, and we're gonna go celebrate. Who's with me?"
>
> The staff at Ping's Garden have learned to roll with it when I
> turn up on their doorstep with a small horde of hungry people. And a
> horde we were, rampaging and ravenous: me, Ryu, and Ken, showered,
> changed and starting to show some bruises; Janet, now off-duty and out
> of uniform in t-shirt and jeans; Charlie; Rose; Sakura; Cammy; Zoner,
> happy as could be since he'd been smart enough not to bet on my
> second fight, or maybe just because Meg Bennett had turned up; and
> Meg, sprightly as always.
> Again, I think I'll just leave the details to your
> imagination.
ARL: I don't know, Ben...
[ARL looks at S.D. and RACE.]
ARL: Do you really think that's wise?
RACE: That's a shallow stereotype and you know it.
> We ordered a ton of stuff, passed it around, swapped
> entrees, cadged each other's appetizers, and gorged ourselves silly.
> We told embarrassing stories about each other, asked personal
> questions, renewed old friendships and began a few new ones. When the
> meal was done, Rose had to get back to Maine, Charlie to wherever he'd
> come from (he didn't mention it and we didn't ask), Meg to Boston and
> Cammy to Scotland; the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
> for a raucous evening of video gaming.
> Here, we six, as a group, learned many interesting things
> about each other.
> - I would rather play S.T.U.N. Runner than anything else in
> the joint.
> - Zoner is a big fan of Hard Drivin'.
> - Janet kicks -ass- at Lethal Enforcers. (What a surprise,
> huh?)
> - Sakura is hell on little red sneakers at air hockey.
> - Ken is not very good at Karate Master.
> - Ryu is the galaxy's most inept driver.
> We had a hell of a good time, though. Playoff had a new game,
> the second in Sega's Virtua Fighter series - a unique series, not only
> for its rendered-polygon technology, but also for the fact that the
> characters in the game are based on real fighters, some of whom we
> knew.
ARL: I'd pay good money to see what some characters would say about the games they're in...
RACE: Or what the programmers would say to the characters... <programmer> Well Miss Kasumi, we didn't have much to go on when it came to animating your breasts, but we could try some motion capture technology. Here, let me attach the sensors...
[Rephrase?]
> We all had a good laugh at the thought of the real Jacky
> Bryant's hair being all polygonal and spikey like that.
> "Huh," said Ken, watching Ryu and Zoner go at it on VF2.
> "Y'know, we should get together and with some game company and do
> something like this." He grinned.
ARL: ...and the Fourth Wall simultaneously implodes *and* explodes.
TBS: What kind of sound would that make, anyway?
> "Oh great," Janet observed. "Next thing you know every
> league's got its own game. What's that second-string circuit where
> they allow body armor and blunt weapons?"
> Sakura snorted. "The Vipers? Nobody'd touch a game with
> -those- sleazebags in it."
RACE: You know, I'd say something about Hutchins flaunting his opinions,
but he *does* have a point.
> "I suppose not," Ken said, warming to his idea, "but we've got
> charm and class! Only wouldn't it be cool if, instead of this 3D
> polygon stuff, it was a hand-drawn anime-style game, y'know, with 2D
> animated sprites, like a modern version of Karate Master? Yeah,
> that'd kick! I'll have to make some calls."
ARL: Spot the irony, ladies and gentlemen!
GAVOK: I found it!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Wait, it's just a dried-up Jujubee. Sorry, my bad.
> "I'd pay real money to see you get M. Bison to agree to be in
> a video game," I remarked.
> "Watch me," Ken said with a smirk. "He'll do it; it'll feed
> his ego."
> "Why hand-drawn?" Janet wondered.
> Ken shrugged. "Looks cool. Cooler than polygons, anyway.
S.D.: Uh-oh, Cracker Jack and Sharon aren't going to like *that*...
> If
> you get the right artists."
> "If you're going to make it sprite-based," Ryu wondered,
> pausing for a moment to take Zoner for a ride on Splash Mountain, "why
> not use digitized photos of the fighters?"
> Ken, Sakura, Zoner, Janet and I all winced together and said
> in unison, "Eew!"
> "OK, maybe not," Ryu said, shrugging and returning his full
> concentration to the game.
>
> END BATTLE 03
>
>
>
>
> Ah, Bancroft Tower on a bright and sunny morning in the
> summertime. The smell of the trees and the new-mown grass... the
> looming grey bulk of the monument...
[ALL hum the theme to "2001: A Space Odyssey."]
> the roar of the crowd.
> The crowd?
> Well, maybe not a crowd, really, but a pretty good-sized
> gathering, anyway. The local folks know that Gryphon fights, and a
> lot of them are his fans - whenever he fights here at the Tower, the
> WPI Science Fiction Society turns out en masse, even though some of
> them aren't really into violence, to cheer him on, and a lot of the
> local businesses send their support. After all, a World Warrior-level
> street fighter's reputation has a tendency to keep the streets quiet,
[There's a Dan joke in here, but...]
RACE: Unless it's Dan, in which case the streets are filled with howls of laughter.
[How's that? I wasn't sure if anyone in the theatre would take exception to japes at Dan; if they would, feel free to add their in-character objections. -z]
> and he and I -have- stopped a few local crimes just by happening to be
> in various local stores when some unfortunate idiot decided to shake
> the place down.
> I was also pleased to see that the WPI Campus Police had sent
> a representative, or perhaps she had taken it upon herself to come;
> either way, the presence of Sergeant Janet Marshall, in uniform,
ARL: Who in the name of Rokusaburo Michiba is Janet Marshall?
TBS: She's the chick in UF with the Photon weapons and the pet Mag.
GAVOK: No, that's Janice Barlow.
TBS: Oh. Then she's the transplanted Canadian living in London who looks like Daria and writes fics about Daria meeting her look-alike.
MMK: Nah, that's Janet Neilson.
> promised to keep the crowd under control. Not that Gryph has a
> problem with unruly fans most of the time, but you can never be too
> secure. Janet's a hell of a fighter in her own right. Once, I saw
> her break up a brawl in the Wedge with her bare hands, five big guys
> with knives and broken bottles and she didn't get a scratch.
ARL: Of course she used an M-16 to break it up, but never mind that.
> You might find the presence of local law enforcement, in
> uniform but not doing anything, at the site of an illegal street fight
> kind of odd, but it's that way in a lot of places. The cooler cops
> know that the real fighters, the ones who register with outfits like
> the WCMAT Authority, are trained and for the most part know what
> they're doing, and that they accept the risks inherent in the game.
> Nobody ever gets hurt in one of Gryphon's matches who isn't willing to
> get hurt, and, like I mentioned before, his rep keeps the local crime
> rate down. They know he's a straight arrow, and so they look the
> other way, and sometimes, like Janet, they turn up to provide a little
> crowd control and give the proceedings an air of legitimacy.
> Besides, I think Janet's kind of sweet on Ben, though she'd
> probably hurt me if I mentioned it.
[]
> If I were him I don't think
> it'd hurt my feelings if she were; Janet's not exactly what I'd call
> hard on the eyes.
> Gryphon's "arena" isn't fancy; it's just the square of
> more-or-less-flat asphalt in front of Bancroft Tower's walkway, from
> the two mini-turrets (and the line of Jersey barricades between them)
> to the wall that keeps people from driving off the hill, bordered on
> the sides by the turrets themselves. Gryphon stood by one turret, Ryu
> the other; Gryphon was wearing a black-and-white NIN shirt, his old
> jeans, his gloves and his Batman cap,
TBS: Now, does that amplify the coolness effect of the NIN shirt, or cancel it out?
ARL: Or does it rather amplify the poserness?
> while Ryu had his usual white
> gi, headband and vambraces.
> Janet separated herself from the spectators, then, and went to
> the middle of the ring, and I realized that she was going to ref for
> Ben, something she does occasionally for his home fights, though not
> always. Whenever she does, it's an extra incentive for his opponent
> to stay in line, not that she had anything to worry about with Ryu.
> I felt a hand on my arm; turning, I was surprised (and
> pleased) to see Meg grinning at me.
> "Meg!" I declared. "How'd you get here?"
> She shrugged. "Hitched."
> "That's dangerous," I pointed out, trying (and failing) to be
> stern.
> She rolled her eyes adorably.
TBS: Then she scratched her butt adorably, took a bite out of her greasy Taquito adorably, then belched.
S.D.: Adorably, I take it.
TBS: Heck no. Who ever heard of belching adorably?
S.D.: ...
RACE <Meg>: Itsy-bitsy cutey-wutey Meggy-chan is sooo kawaii! WAIIII!!!
ARL: Race?
RACE: Yes?
ARL: DON'T DO THAT.
> "I think I can take care of
> myself. Anyway, I wanted to see the fight, but I figured you'd be a
> little busy to come and pick me up."
> "Well, you're just in time," I said, "I think it's about to
> start."
> Just as I said it, Janet cleared her throat and announced the
> fight.
> "Ladies and gentlemen!" she declared in the clear, loud voice
> they teach at cop school for crowd control. "May I introduce today's
> challenger! A Shotokan Karate fighter from Tokyo, Japan, with a
> hundred and eight wins - ninety-nine by knockout - three losses and
> two draws: Ryu Hoshi!"
> As Ryu stepped out to the middle of the ring, on Janet's left,
> most of the crowd, knowing Gryphon's fondness for politeness,
> applauded. A couple of high-school kids toward the back booed and
> yelled "YOU SUCK!",
GAVOK <Ryu>: I don't suck; I'm just in a different quality bracket!
> and I could see Gryphon making a mental note to
> speak to them later. Alone among the spectators, Sakura cheered
> wildly.
> "And Bancroft Tower's champion, an Icon of Stone Ler Drit
> fighter with sixty-seven wins - fifty-four by knockout - two losses
> and no draws: Ben 'Gryphon' Hutchins!"
> Now the crowd cheered as Gryph took his place on Janet's
> right, save those two jerks in the back, who still booed, and Sakura,
> who was entirely silent.
> "OK, you guys, here are the rules. No choke holds. No
> intentional dislocations or broken bones. If the other guy quits, you
> stop. Got it?"
ARL: Nothing about foreign objects?
GAVOK: All RIGHT!! Hardcore rules Street Fighter!
> They nodded.
> "Shake hands," Janet said; Gryphon and Ryu shook, then backed
> up a couple of steps and bowed.
> "Ready?" asked Janet. Gryphon nodded. She looked to Ryu; he
> tightened his headband, then nodded as well. "Fight!" said Janet, and
> she backed up behind the Jersey barricades.
RACE <Karate Judge>: Begin!
> Ryu didn't waste any time; as soon as Janet was out of the
> way, he leaped up and forward as if going for a drop kick, but landed
> short, trying for a leg sweep. He caught Gryph flat-footed (pardon
> the expression) with that one, tripping him up; Gryph had been fading
> back and preparing a punch counter for the kick, and fell heavily to
> his back on the pavement, but almost immediately rolled to his feet
> and launched a spinning back fist. Ryu stepped smoothly into the path
> and blocked the fist with his left forearm, launching a jab with his
> right; Gryph ducked under it and shot an off-hand ducking fierce into
> Ryu's gut.
> He should've flared it, I thought to myself as Ryu was shoved
> back a little by the force of the blow. Then I realized why Gryph
> hadn't done just that - he was already channeling his Ler, using it
> for the push-off in the second part of his ducking-fierce-to-knee-thrust
> combo. With his Ler pushing him, he exploded up from the crouch,
S.D.: Who's the wise guy that planted the land mines?
RACE: Okay, why did I just read that as "exploded up from the crotch?"
MMK: "Ben Hutchins remote detonated my balls?"
> left
> knee outstretched, and the knee plowed up under Ryu's chin, knocking
> him over backward. As Gryph landed, feet spread, Ryu got unsteadily
> to his feet and wobbled for a moment.
> Capitalizing on his window of opportunity, Gryph swung into
> his double high kick; the first blow caught Ryu full in the face, but
> seemed to wake him up.
TBS: A cup of coffee would have done the same thing.
> The Shotokan fighter ducked the second kick
> and, while Gryph was still winding out of his spin, Ryu cocked his
> hands at his side, eyebrows colliding.
MMK <singing>: ...and this is what it's like when eyebrows COLLIDE!!
Are you ready to go? Yes I'm ready to go, what'cha wanna do, bay-bay,
bay-bay...
> I winced, knowing what was
> next:
> "HADOKEN!" The fireball crashed into Gryphon's midsection
> from point-blank range, drawing an audible grunt as the air was forced
> out of his lungs, and as Gryph stumbled back, Ryu kept his crouch and
> wound into a stance I knew, from watching previous fights, meant
> trouble.
> "SHORYUKEN!" Ryu cried, launching himself up in one of the
> other signature moves of his style.
TBS: Often imitated... and often duplicated, actually.
ARL: Right now all the shoto-scrubs are salivating at the thought of
being able to combo a Hadoken into a Shoryuken.
RACE: Just salivating?
ARL: Well, possibly other things, but I'd like to keep this conversation
at a PG level, thank you.
> It was a textbook blow, caught
> Gryph right under the chin, picked up him and dumped him on the
> ground, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn into little X's at
> the moment of impact. Gryphon didn't bounce to his feet with quite
> the same speed as he had last time, but get up he did, with that gleam
> in his eyes that showed he was really enjoying the fight, and his
> hands flared and crackling with energy.
> Again Ryu wasted no time, launching himself into a Hurricane
> Kick (with appropriate shout), but this time, Gryph was ready for
> him, his flared arms raised and crossed in a block. Ryu's kick shoved
> him back a little, but as Ryu was busy landing, Gryph moved with all
> the deceptive speed his opponents rarely give him credit for, darting
> his left hand forward, seizing Ryu's head face-on,
MMK <singing>: I will make you smell the glove...
[A faraway "Ding!" echoes in the theater.]
> and, forearm
> muscles bulging, lifted him clean off the ground. Ryu raised his
> hands to Gryph's wrist, but he was already completing the throw,
> slamming Ryu down on the ground as if he were spiking a football after
> a touchdown.
GAVOK: It's the Wyler Throw! Yeah!
RACE: "Wyler Throw?" Who the hell is Wyler?
[Long pause.]
GAVOK: You want to know who Wyler is?
RACE: Well, yeah.
GAVOK <agitated>: *You* want to know who *Wyler* is?!
RACE: Um... yes...
GAVOK: YOU WANT TO *KNOW* WHO WYLER *IS?!?*
RACE: Well, if you're going to-
GAVOK: WYLER IS YOUR *GOD*, FOOL!!!
[The entire theater begins to shake. Suddenly, part of the left wall
explodes outwards in a shower of bricks, and WYLER, an eight-foot tall
overmuscled behemoth of a man in torn pants, lumbers through.]
WYLER: Who say they not know Wyler??
[ALL BUT RACE leap out of their seats and scatter. WYLER lumbers over to
a terrified RACE and glares at him.]
WYLER: You not know Wyler? Then you PAY!
[WYLER reaches out with and picks up RACE by the head. He rears back and
prepares his Wyler Throw (tm) when a woman wearing a black jacket and wielding a whip runs through the hole in the wall.]
WOMAN <shouting behind her>: Hey Proto, he's here!
WYLER: Crap.
[WYLER drops RACE and runs through the opposite wall, scattering bricks
hither and yon. The WOMAN chases after him, followed by a man who looks
exactly like Genjuro from "Samurai Shodown."]
MAN: Yo Edgey, don't lose him! <to himself> Damn it, Gunsmith ain't payin'
me enough for this...
[They both disappear through the hole in the wall. Silence reigns for a
few moments, and ALL slowly return to their seats.]
ARL: That was... even more random than usual.
S.D.: No kidding.
GAVOK: Now you know the true power of Wyler, Racewing.
RACE: ...I hate this theater.
[...oy. Sorry again. -RoP]
> Ryu rolled a couple of feet away and got back to his feet,
> settling into his ready stance, looking battered,
GAVOK: Kentucky Fried Shotokan!
> but not bowed. He
> nodded, ever so slightly, with respect, and waited for Gryph to make
> the next move.
> Gryphon did not disappoint; reflaring his hands, he swept them
> forward in a crackling arc and unleashed his Psycho Lightning.
> Unfortunately, the sweep gave Ryu enough warning; he jumped over it,
> knocking Gryph back with a flying kick and landing in front of him in
> good position for another Dragon Punch.
ARL: As for the people standing behind Ryu... well...
> Gryph grinned, just a little, and his eyes gleamed.
MMK <Gryphon>: Aku wa yurusen!
> Then he swung into his most complicated combo, the one I'd
> seen him pull off a grand total of three times so far in his career:
> a fast and vicious three-puncher, left jab, right cross, left
> uppercut, that drove Ryu back enough for Gryph to go into a seamless
> double kick.
MMK <Strider> and GAVOK <Wolverine>: Amateur.
[I'd have Wandy say something, but then I'd be jumped by Shade yelling "MADS DON'T RIFF!! MADS DON'T RIFF!! BLAAAARGH!!" -RoP]
> By the first kick's impact, Ryu was already unconscious;
> the second kick juggled him back into a semblance of a standing
> position, and then he toppled over backward and sprawled on the
> pavement. There was one move left in the combo, but Gryphon saw there
> was no need for it and arrested his motion before he could follow his
> falling opponent down on one knee and bounce his head off the asphalt
> with another left jab.
> The crowd went nuts as Janet shouted "Champion wins!"
[ALL watch the screen in stunned silence.]
ARL: I'm sorry, but I did NOT just see Gryphon beat Ryu Hoshi...
RACE: Yes you did.
ARL: You're not helping!
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it.
S.D.: You're not gonna say it.
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it!
S.D.: You're not gonna say it!
GAVOK: Fine, I won't. But Snotters and Knight will.
TBS, MMK: Who *booked* this crap?
>
> G
> Ryu was already sitting up and holding his head by the time
> Janet and I reached him; I offered him a hand up, which he accepted,
> and as I drew him to his feet, he clapped his other hand to my
> shoulder and grinned.
> "You're better than you were last time," he said.
> "I beat you last time, too," I pointed out.
ARL: I'm sorry, is this some other version of Ryu that we don't know about?
Some version that didn't beat M. Bison, Akuma, Gill and goodness knows how
many other people?
RACE: Woah! Hold the phone, I just thought of something! Y'know how Ryu's
supposed to be the greatest fighter ever, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and Akuma's looking for great warriors to fight against, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and anyone who managed to defeat Ryu, not once but TWICE has to be
a great fighter, right?
ARL: I suppose so, but what are you-
[A beat. ARL smirks.]
ARL: Hutchins just stepped in it big-time, didn't he?
RACE: Oh yeah.
> Ryu shrugged. "What is it the fans of the local baseball
> team say? There's always next year."
> As Janet got out a penlight and checked both our eyes to make
> sure we weren't walking around with any lethal brain hemorrhages
> going, we noticed we were no longer alone in the ring; a small figure
> in a sailor outfit had broken away from the crowd and was edging
> toward us, hesitant, with a mixture of concern and appalled shock on
> her face.
> As Ryu turned to face her, Sakura looked up at him and said
> incredulously, "You... you -lost-."
GAVOK <Sakura>: You SUCK! That's it, I'm obsessing over Terry Bogard
from now on!
> She looked somewhere between
> astounded and crushed, as if she'd just seen a street gang mug Santa
> Claus.
> "It happens," Ryu replied, nodding. "Not often, but it
> happens."
> "But - "
> Ken prevented us from ever finding out exactly what her
> protest would have entailed. He hadn't forgotten his promise to take
> on the winner, and now, even if the winner hadn't turned out to be the
> one he thought it would be, his fighter's ego wouldn't let him back
> down.
> I won't bore you with the details of our fight. Did I win?
ARL <Gryphon>: Did I ever!
RACE: Bitter?
ARL: Yes.
> Hah! The day I can defeat Ryu AND Ken in succession is the day I go
> to M. Bison's island fortress and rifle his sock drawer.
MMK: So he hasn't booked himself as *completely* indestructible.
ARL: Or else he simply realizes that there's a difference between suspension of disbelief and expecting your readership to *hang* their disbelief by the neck 'til dead.
> When I came to, I thought that somebody, maybe Janet, maybe
> Cammy, was mopping at my face with a wet cloth. Then, after a few
> moments of gathering my brains back together, I realized it was
> actually Fury, and, lacking thumbs, he wasn't using a cloth.
> "Eyagh," I remarked, pushing him away and sitting slowly and
> carefully up. Nothing rattled around too badly, so I tried standing.
> I must confess I accidentally copped a bit of a feel when Janet rushed
> to prop me up with her shoulder, but it wasn't intentional,
RACE: Right.
> I wasn't
> in a position to enjoy it much,
RACE: Riiiiight.
> and she didn't seem to notice.
S.D. <Janet>: Do that again and I Rodney King your ass.
> Focusing my eyes on the quintet before me, I saw that Ryu,
> Sakura, Cammy and Zoner looked worried, while Ken looked contrite.
> "Well," I grumbled, testing my arm and leg joints to make sure
> everything still bent in the right direction and -only- the right
> direction, "I hope you're satisfied, Ken."
> "Woof," said Fury reproachfully. I scratched his ears.
> Ken hung his head. "I guess I'm kind of a jerk, huh."
> "I guess," I said as severely as I could, but when he peeked
> out at me through his bushy reddish eyebrows, my severity cracked and
> I snickered. "But aren't we all, at times?
TBS <Gryphon>: Well, besides me of course.
> Tell you what, I'll
> forgive you if you'll forgive Ryu."
> Ken looked dubious for a moment, then smiled and turned to
> Ryu. "OK... put 'er there, pal."
> Ryu smiled and took his old friend's hand.
> "All right. Now I'm gonna get some Tylenol in this head of
> mine, and we're gonna go celebrate. Who's with me?"
>
> The staff at Ping's Garden have learned to roll with it when I
> turn up on their doorstep with a small horde of hungry people. And a
> horde we were, rampaging and ravenous: me, Ryu, and Ken, showered,
> changed and starting to show some bruises; Janet, now off-duty and out
> of uniform in t-shirt and jeans; Charlie; Rose; Sakura; Cammy; Zoner,
> happy as could be since he'd been smart enough not to bet on my
> second fight, or maybe just because Meg Bennett had turned up; and
> Meg, sprightly as always.
> Again, I think I'll just leave the details to your
> imagination.
ARL: I don't know, Ben...
[ARL looks at S.D. and RACE.]
ARL: Do you really think that's wise?
RACE: That's a shallow stereotype and you know it.
> We ordered a ton of stuff, passed it around, swapped
> entrees, cadged each other's appetizers, and gorged ourselves silly.
> We told embarrassing stories about each other, asked personal
> questions, renewed old friendships and began a few new ones. When the
> meal was done, Rose had to get back to Maine, Charlie to wherever he'd
> come from (he didn't mention it and we didn't ask),
MMK: He said it was too complicated to explain.
[ARL twitches.]
> Meg to Boston and
> Cammy to Scotland; the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
SD: Infamous? From what exactly?
MMK: The first UF.
SD: Oh. I missed that.
ARL: [still twitching] Lucky you.
> for a raucous evening of video gaming.
> Here, we six, as a group, learned many interesting things
> about each other.
> - I would rather play S.T.U.N. Runner than anything else in
> the joint.
> - Zoner is a big fan of Hard Drivin'.
> - Janet kicks -ass- at Lethal Enforcers. (What a surprise,
> huh?)
TBS: Yeah, her and Lynn Cullen.
> - Sakura is hell on little red sneakers at air hockey.
> - Ken is not very good at Karate Master.
> - Ryu is the galaxy's most inept driver.
> We had a hell of a good time, though. Playoff had a new game,
> the second in Sega's Virtua Fighter series - a unique series, not only
> for its rendered-polygon technology, but also for the fact that the
> characters in the game are based on real fighters, some of whom we
> knew.
ARL: I'd pay good money to see what some characters would say about the games they're in...
RACE: Or what the programmers would say to the characters... <programmer> Well Miss Kasumi, we didn't have much to go on when it came to animating your breasts, but we could try some motion capture technology. Here, let me attach the sensors...
[Rephrase?]
[Nah, it works for me. -z]
> We all had a good laugh at the thought of the real Jacky
> Bryant's hair being all polygonal and spikey like that.
> "Huh," said Ken, watching Ryu and Zoner go at it on VF2.
> "Y'know, we should get together and with some game company and do
> something like this." He grinned.
ARL: ...and the Fourth Wall simultaneously implodes *and* explodes.
TBS: What kind of sound would that make, anyway?
> "Oh great," Janet observed. "Next thing you know every
> league's got its own game. What's that second-string circuit where
> they allow body armor and blunt weapons?"
> Sakura snorted. "The Vipers? Nobody'd touch a game with
> -those- sleazebags in it."
RACE: You know, I'd say something about Hutchins flaunting his opinions,
but he *does* have a point.
> "I suppose not," Ken said, warming to his idea, "but we've got
> charm and class! Only wouldn't it be cool if, instead of this 3D
> polygon stuff, it was a hand-drawn anime-style game, y'know, with 2D
> animated sprites, like a modern version of Karate Master? Yeah,
> that'd kick! I'll have to make some calls."
ARL: Spot the irony, ladies and gentlemen!
GAVOK: I found it!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Wait, it's just a dried-up Jujubee. Sorry, my bad.
> "I'd pay real money to see you get M. Bison to agree to be in
> a video game," I remarked.
> "Watch me," Ken said with a smirk. "He'll do it; it'll feed
> his ego."
> "Why hand-drawn?" Janet wondered.
> Ken shrugged. "Looks cool. Cooler than polygons, anyway.
S.D.: Uh-oh, Cracker Jack and Sharon aren't going to like *that*...
> If
> you get the right artists."
> "If you're going to make it sprite-based," Ryu wondered,
> pausing for a moment to take Zoner for a ride on Splash Mountain, "why
> not use digitized photos of the fighters?"
> Ken, Sakura, Zoner, Janet and I all winced together and said
> in unison, "Eew!"
> "OK, maybe not," Ryu said, shrugging and returning his full
> concentration to the game.
>
> END BATTLE 03
>
>
>
>
> Ah, Bancroft Tower on a bright and sunny morning in the
> summertime. The smell of the trees and the new-mown grass... the
> looming grey bulk of the monument...
[ALL hum the theme to "2001: A Space Odyssey."]
> the roar of the crowd.
> The crowd?
TBS <MegaZone>: Damn! I KNEW I forgot something!
> Well, maybe not a crowd, really, but a pretty good-sized
> gathering, anyway. The local folks know that Gryphon fights, and a
> lot of them are his fans - whenever he fights here at the Tower, the
> WPI Science Fiction Society turns out en masse, even though some of
> them aren't really into violence, to cheer him on,
MMK, GAVOK, TBS <Fans>: KICK HIS ASS, GRYPHON!
S.D. <Fan>: But do it gently!
> and a lot of the
> local businesses send their support. After all, a World Warrior-level
> street fighter's reputation has a tendency to keep the streets quiet,
[There's a Dan joke in here, but...]
RACE: Unless it's Dan, in which case the streets are filled with howls of laughter.
[How's that? I wasn't sure if anyone in the theatre would take exception to japes at Dan; if they would, feel free to add their in-character objections. -z]
> and he and I -have- stopped a few local crimes just by happening to be
> in various local stores when some unfortunate idiot decided to shake
> the place down.
> I was also pleased to see that the WPI Campus Police had sent
> a representative,
ARL: It's... WPI CAMPUS MAN TO THE RESCUE!
> or perhaps she had taken it upon herself to come;
> either way, the presence of Sergeant Janet Marshall, in uniform,
ARL: Who in the name of Rokusaburo Michiba is Janet Marshall?
TBS: She's the chick in UF with the Photon weapons and the pet Mag.
GAVOK: No, that's Janice Barlow.
TBS: Oh. Then she's the transplanted Canadian living in London who looks like Daria and writes fics about Daria meeting her look-alike.
MMK: Nah, that's Janet Neilson.
> promised to keep the crowd under control. Not that Gryph has a
> problem with unruly fans most of the time, but you can never be too
> secure. Janet's a hell of a fighter in her own right.
S.D.: Her left, however, is crap.
> Once, I saw
> her break up a brawl in the Wedge with her bare hands, five big guys
> with knives and broken bottles and she didn't get a scratch.
ARL: Of course she used an M-16 to break it up, but never mind that.
> You might find the presence of local law enforcement, in
> uniform but not doing anything, at the site of an illegal street fight
> kind of odd, but it's that way in a lot of places.
MMK <Joey>: Of course... IN BIZARRO WORLD!
> The cooler cops
> know that the real fighters, the ones who register with outfits like
> the WCMAT Authority, are trained and for the most part know what
> they're doing, and that they accept the risks inherent in the game.
> Nobody ever gets hurt in one of Gryphon's matches who isn't willing to
> get hurt,
ARL: Read: Gryphon never gets hurt.
> and, like I mentioned before, his rep keeps the local crime
> rate down. They know he's a straight arrow, and so they look the
> other way, and sometimes, like Janet, they turn up to provide a little
> crowd control and give the proceedings an air of legitimacy.
MMK <Police>: This is a legitamite illegal fight. I repeat! This is a legitamite illegal fight.
GAVOK <Police>: Please make your way to the alley for legitamite uncontrolled substances and firearms.
> Besides, I think Janet's kind of sweet on Ben, though she'd
> probably hurt me if I mentioned it.
[]
> If I were him I don't think
> it'd hurt my feelings if she were; Janet's not exactly what I'd call
> hard on the eyes.
> Gryphon's "arena" isn't fancy; it's just the square of
> more-or-less-flat asphalt in front of Bancroft Tower's walkway, from
> the two mini-turrets (and the line of Jersey barricades between them)
> to the wall that keeps people from driving off the hill,
S.D.: New Jersey. Protecting its citizens from Darwinism since 1979.
> bordered on
> the sides by the turrets themselves. Gryphon stood by one turret, Ryu
> the other; Gryphon was wearing a black-and-white NIN shirt, his old
> jeans, his gloves and his Batman cap,
TBS: Now, does that amplify the coolness effect of the NIN shirt, or cancel it out?
ARL: Or does it rather amplify the poserness?
> while Ryu had his usual white
> gi, headband and vambraces.
> Janet separated herself from the spectators, then, and went to
> the middle of the ring, and I realized that she was going to ref for
> Ben, something she does occasionally for his home fights, though not
> always.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Yoo hoo! Referee Janet! I like your hair!
> Whenever she does, it's an extra incentive for his opponent
> to stay in line, not that she had anything to worry about with Ryu.
> I felt a hand on my arm; turning, I was surprised (and
> pleased) to see Meg grinning at me.
> "Meg!" I declared. "How'd you get here?"
> She shrugged. "Hitched."
> "That's dangerous," I pointed out, trying (and failing) to be
> stern.
RACE: Yeah. That has GOT to be the worst Fartman impression I've EVER seen.
> She rolled her eyes adorably.
TBS: Then she scratched her butt adorably, took a bite out of her greasy Taquito adorably, then belched.
S.D.: Adorably, I take it.
TBS: Heck no. Who ever heard of belching adorably?
S.D.: ...
RACE <Meg>: Itsy-bitsy cutey-wutey Meggy-chan is sooo kawaii! WAIIII!!!
ARL: Race?
RACE: Yes?
ARL: DON'T DO THAT.
> "I think I can take care of
> myself. Anyway, I wanted to see the fight, but I figured you'd be a
> little busy to come and pick me up."
> "Well, you're just in time," I said, "I think it's about to
> start."
> Just as I said it, Janet cleared her throat and announced the
> fight.
S.D. <Janet>: Let's get ready to! [long pause] ...line?
ARL: [softly] Rumble.
S.D. <Janet>: Oh. Let's get ready to rumba!
[ARL slaps his forehead.]
> "Ladies and gentlemen!" she declared in the clear, loud voice
> they teach at cop school for crowd control. "May I introduce today's
> challenger! A Shotokan Karate fighter from Tokyo, Japan, with a
> hundred and eight wins - ninety-nine by knockout - three losses and
> two draws: Ryu Hoshi!"
[ALL cheer.]
MMK: RYU HOSHI ROCKS!
> As Ryu stepped out to the middle of the ring, on Janet's left,
> most of the crowd, knowing Gryphon's fondness for politeness,
> applauded. A couple of high-school kids toward the back booed and
> yelled "YOU SUCK!",
GAVOK <Ryu>: I don't suck; I'm just in a different quality bracket!
TBS <Ryu>: You swallow!
> and I could see Gryphon making a mental note to
> speak to them later. Alone among the spectators, Sakura cheered
> wildly.
MMK: Sakura's got... [gasp] COOTIES!
[RACE clobbers MMK with his spatula.]
RACE: Thou shalt not talk down upon Sakura, knave!
MMK: [pops his neck] Ow. [pause] Didn't hurt. [pause] Ow.
> "And Bancroft Tower's champion, an Icon of Stone Ler Drit
> fighter with sixty-seven wins - fifty-four by knockout - two losses
> and no draws: Ben 'Gryphon' Hutchins!"
> Now the crowd cheered as Gryph took his place on Janet's
> right, save those two jerks in the back, who still booed, and Sakura,
> who was entirely silent.
S.D. <Sakura>: ...I forgot my line!
> "OK, you guys, here are the rules. No choke holds. No
> intentional dislocations or broken bones. If the other guy quits, you
> stop. Got it?"
ARL: Nothing about foreign objects?
GAVOK: All RIGHT!! Hardcore rules Street Fighter!
> They nodded.
> "Shake hands," Janet said; Gryphon and Ryu shook, then backed
> up a couple of steps and bowed.
> "Ready?" asked Janet. Gryphon nodded. She looked to Ryu; he
> tightened his headband, then nodded as well. "Fight!" said Janet, and
> she backed up behind the Jersey barricades.
RACE <Karate Judge>: Begin!
TBS <Ryu>: You didn't say "Simon Says."
> Ryu didn't waste any time; as soon as Janet was out of the
> way, he leaped up and forward as if going for a drop kick, but landed
> short, trying for a leg sweep. He caught Gryph flat-footed (pardon
> the expression) with that one, tripping him up; Gryph had been fading
> back and preparing a punch counter for the kick, and fell heavily to
> his back on the pavement, but almost immediately rolled to his feet
> and launched a spinning back fist.
MMK: Gryphon IS Popeye the Sailor Man!
GAVOK <sings>: I'm strong to the finish 'cause I write the ficcish! I'm Gryphon the SI Man! TOOT TOOT!
> Ryu stepped smoothly into the path
> and blocked the fist with his left forearm, launching a jab with his
> right; Gryph ducked under it and shot an off-hand ducking fierce into
> Ryu's gut.
> He should've flared it, I thought to myself as Ryu was shoved
> back a little by the force of the blow.
S.D.: It's because Gryphon LOVES him!
> Then I realized why Gryph
> hadn't done just that - he was already channeling his Ler, using it
> for the push-off in the second part of his ducking-fierce-to-knee-thrust
> combo. With his Ler pushing him, he exploded up from the crouch,
S.D.: Who's the wise guy that planted the land mines?
RACE: Okay, why did I just read that as "exploded up from the crotch?"
MMK: "Ben Hutchins remote detonated my balls?"
> left
> knee outstretched, and the knee plowed up under Ryu's chin, knocking
> him over backward. As Gryph landed, feet spread, Ryu got unsteadily
> to his feet and wobbled for a moment.
> Capitalizing on his window of opportunity, Gryph swung into
> his double high kick; the first blow caught Ryu full in the face, but
> seemed to wake him up.
TBS: A cup of coffee would have done the same thing.
> The Shotokan fighter ducked the second kick
> and, while Gryph was still winding out of his spin, Ryu cocked his
> hands at his side, eyebrows colliding.
MMK <singing>: ...and this is what it's like when eyebrows COLLIDE!!
Are you ready to go? Yes I'm ready to go, what'cha wanna do, bay-bay,
bay-bay...
> I winced, knowing what was
> next:
> "HADOKEN!" The fireball crashed into Gryphon's midsection
> from point-blank range, drawing an audible grunt as the air was forced
> out of his lungs, and as Gryph stumbled back, Ryu kept his crouch and
> wound into a stance I knew, from watching previous fights, meant
> trouble.
TBS <MegaZone>: NO! Not the Macarena!
> "SHORYUKEN!" Ryu cried, launching himself up in one of the
> other signature moves of his style.
TBS: Often imitated... and often duplicated, actually.
ARL: Right now all the shoto-scrubs are salivating at the thought of
being able to combo a Hadoken into a Shoryuken.
RACE: Just salivating?
ARL: Well, possibly other things, but I'd like to keep this conversation
at a PG level, thank you.
> It was a textbook blow, caught
> Gryph right under the chin, picked up him and dumped him on the
> ground, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn into little X's at
> the moment of impact. Gryphon didn't bounce to his feet with quite
> the same speed as he had last time, but get up he did, with that gleam
> in his eyes that showed he was really enjoying the fight,
RACE <Gryphon>: Thank you for the glorious pain!
S.D. <Gryphon>: Thank you, sir! May I have another?
> and his
> hands flared and crackling with energy.
> Again Ryu wasted no time, launching himself into a Hurricane
> Kick (with appropriate shout),
MMK, GAVOK <Ryu>: [singing] I! LIKE! BIG! BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!
> but this time, Gryph was ready for
> him, his flared arms raised and crossed in a block. Ryu's kick shoved
> him back a little, but as Ryu was busy landing, Gryph moved with all
> the deceptive speed his opponents rarely give him credit for, darting
> his left hand forward, seizing Ryu's head face-on,
MMK <singing>: I will make you smell the glove...
[A faraway "Ding!" echoes in the theater.]
> and, forearm
> muscles bulging, lifted him clean off the ground. Ryu raised his
> hands to Gryph's wrist, but he was already completing the throw,
> slamming Ryu down on the ground as if he were spiking a football after
> a touchdown.
GAVOK: It's the Wyler Throw! Yeah!
RACE: "Wyler Throw?" Who the hell is Wyler?
[Long pause.]
GAVOK: You want to know who Wyler is?
RACE: Well, yeah.
GAVOK <agitated>: *You* want to know who *Wyler* is?!
RACE: Um... yes...
GAVOK: YOU WANT TO *KNOW* WHO WYLER *IS?!?*
RACE: Well, if you're going to-
GAVOK: WYLER IS YOUR *GOD*, FOOL!!!
[The entire theater begins to shake. Suddenly, part of the left wall
explodes outwards in a shower of bricks, and WYLER, an eight-foot tall
overmuscled behemoth of a man in torn pants, lumbers through.]
WYLER: Who say they not know Wyler??
[ALL BUT RACE leap out of their seats and scatter. WYLER lumbers over to
a terrified RACE and glares at him.]
WYLER: You not know Wyler? Then you PAY!
[WYLER reaches out with and picks up RACE by the head. He rears back and
prepares his Wyler Throw (tm) when a woman wearing a black jacket and wielding a whip runs through the hole in the wall.]
WOMAN <shouting behind her>: Hey Proto, he's here!
WYLER: Crap.
[WYLER drops RACE and runs through the opposite wall, scattering bricks
hither and yon. The WOMAN chases after him, followed by a man who looks
exactly like Genjuro from "Samurai Shodown."]
MAN: Yo Edgey, don't lose him! <to himself> Damn it, Gunsmith ain't payin'
me enough for this...
[They both disappear through the hole in the wall. Silence reigns for a
few moments, and ALL slowly return to their seats.]
ARL: That was... even more random than usual.
S.D.: No kidding.
GAVOK: Now you know the true power of Wyler, Racewing.
RACE: ...I hate this theater.
[...oy. Sorry again. -RoP]
> Ryu rolled a couple of feet away and got back to his feet,
> settling into his ready stance, looking battered,
GAVOK: Kentucky Fried Shotokan!
> but not bowed. He
> nodded, ever so slightly, with respect, and waited for Gryph to make
> the next move.
> Gryphon did not disappoint; reflaring his hands, he swept them
> forward in a crackling arc and unleashed his Psycho Lightning.
> Unfortunately, the sweep gave Ryu enough warning;
ARL: Telegram for Ryu. It reads, "I'm going to attack you now! Stop. Gryphon. Stop."
> he jumped over it,
> knocking Gryph back with a flying kick and landing in front of him in
> good position for another Dragon Punch.
ARL: As for the people standing behind Ryu... well...
> Gryph grinned, just a little, and his eyes gleamed.
MMK <Gryphon>: Aku wa yurusen!
> Then he swung into his most complicated combo, the one I'd
> seen him pull off a grand total of three times so far in his career:
> a fast and vicious three-puncher, left jab, right cross, left
> uppercut, that drove Ryu back enough for Gryph to go into a seamless
> double kick.
MMK <Strider> and GAVOK <Wolverine>: Amateur.
[I'd have Wandy say something, but then I'd be jumped by Shade yelling "MADS DON'T RIFF!! MADS DON'T RIFF!! BLAAAARGH!!" -RoP]
> By the first kick's impact, Ryu was already unconscious;
> the second kick juggled him back into a semblance of a standing
> position, and then he toppled over backward and sprawled on the
> pavement. There was one move left in the combo,
GAVOK: The dreaded Flying Butt Pliers!
> but Gryphon saw there
> was no need for it and arrested his motion before he could follow his
> falling opponent down on one knee and bounce his head off the asphalt
> with another left jab.
> The crowd went nuts as Janet shouted "Champion wins!"
[ALL watch the screen in stunned silence.]
ARL: I'm sorry, but I did NOT just see Gryphon beat Ryu Hoshi...
RACE: Yes you did.
ARL: You're not helping!
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it.
S.D.: You're not gonna say it.
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it!
S.D.: You're not gonna say it!
GAVOK: Fine, I won't. But Snotters and Knight will.
TBS, MMK: Who *booked* this crap?
>
> G
> Ryu was already sitting up and holding his head by the time
> Janet and I reached him; I offered him a hand up, which he accepted,
> and as I drew him to his feet, he clapped his other hand to my
> shoulder and grinned.
> "You're better than you were last time," he said.
> "I beat you last time, too," I pointed out.
ARL: I'm sorry, is this some other version of Ryu that we don't know about?
Some version that didn't beat M. Bison, Akuma, Gill and goodness knows how
many other people?
RACE: Woah! Hold the phone, I just thought of something! Y'know how Ryu's
supposed to be the greatest fighter ever, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and Akuma's looking for great warriors to fight against, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and anyone who managed to defeat Ryu, not once but TWICE has to be
a great fighter, right?
ARL: I suppose so, but what are you-
[A beat. ARL smirks.]
ARL: Hutchins just stepped in it big-time, didn't he?
RACE: Oh yeah.
> Ryu shrugged. "What is it the fans of the local baseball
> team say?
TBS: Something along the lines of, "GOD DAMN IT! MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"
> There's always next year."
> As Janet got out a penlight and checked both our eyes to make
> sure we weren't walking around with any lethal brain hemorrhages
> going, we noticed we were no longer alone in the ring; a small figure
> in a sailor outfit had broken away from the crowd and was edging
> toward us,
ARL: It's... [dramatic pause]
ALL: DARK POPEYE!
GAVOK <Dark Popeye>: I'm strong to the finish 'cause I eat THE SOULS OF THE DAMNED! BLEARGH!
> hesitant, with a mixture of concern and appalled shock on
> her face.
> As Ryu turned to face her, Sakura looked up at him and said
> incredulously, "You... you -lost-."
GAVOK <Sakura>: You SUCK! That's it, I'm obsessing over Terry Bogard
from now on!
> She looked somewhere between
> astounded and crushed, as if she'd just seen a street gang mug Santa
> Claus.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Man, that brings back memories.
> "It happens," Ryu replied, nodding. "Not often, but it
> happens."
> "But - "
> Ken prevented us from ever finding out exactly what her
> protest would have entailed. He hadn't forgotten his promise to take
> on the winner, and now, even if the winner hadn't turned out to be the
> one he thought it would be, his fighter's ego wouldn't let him back
> down.
ARL <Ken>: Good thing I have Jack Carver on speed dial.
> I won't bore you with the details of our fight. Did I win?
ARL <Gryphon>: Did I ever!
RACE: Bitter?
ARL: Yes.
> Hah! The day I can defeat Ryu AND Ken in succession is the day I go
> to M. Bison's island fortress and rifle his sock drawer.
MMK: So he hasn't booked himself as *completely* indestructible.
ARL: Or else he simply realizes that there's a difference between suspension of disbelief and expecting your readership to *hang* their disbelief by the neck 'til dead.
> When I came to, I thought that somebody, maybe Janet, maybe
> Cammy, was mopping at my face with a wet cloth. Then, after a few
> moments of gathering my brains back together, I realized it was
> actually Fury, and, lacking thumbs, he wasn't using a cloth.
RACE: He was using... a loofa sponge!
> "Eyagh," I remarked, pushing him away and sitting slowly and
> carefully up. Nothing rattled around too badly, so I tried standing.
> I must confess I accidentally copped a bit of a feel when Janet rushed
> to prop me up with her shoulder, but it wasn't intentional,
RACE: Right.
> I wasn't
> in a position to enjoy it much,
RACE: Riiiiight.
> and she didn't seem to notice.
S.D. <Janet>: Do that again and I Rodney King your ass.
> Focusing my eyes on the quintet before me, I saw that Ryu,
> Sakura, Cammy and Zoner looked worried, while Ken looked contrite.
> "Well," I grumbled, testing my arm and leg joints to make sure
> everything still bent in the right direction and -only- the right
> direction, "I hope you're satisfied, Ken."
TBS <Ken>: I sure am!
ALL: Us, too!
GAVOK: BEAT HIM AGAIN!
> "Woof," said Fury reproachfully. I scratched his ears.
> Ken hung his head. "I guess I'm kind of a jerk, huh."
> "I guess," I said as severely as I could, but when he peeked
> out at me through his bushy reddish eyebrows, my severity cracked and
> I snickered. "But aren't we all, at times?
TBS <Gryphon>: Well, besides me of course.
> Tell you what, I'll
> forgive you if you'll forgive Ryu."
> Ken looked dubious for a moment, then smiled and turned to
> Ryu. "OK... put 'er there, pal."
> Ryu smiled and took his old friend's hand.
> "All right. Now I'm gonna get some Tylenol in this head of
> mine, and we're gonna go celebrate. Who's with me?"
[ALL mumble excuses.]
TBS: ...gotta water my cat...
GAVOK: ...hat needs cleaning...
RACE: ...little sister in the oven...
> The staff at Ping's Garden have learned to roll with it when I
> turn up on their doorstep with a small horde of hungry people. And a
> horde we were, rampaging and ravenous: me, Ryu, and Ken, showered,
> changed and starting to show some bruises; Janet, now off-duty and out
> of uniform in t-shirt and jeans; Charlie; Rose; Sakura; Cammy; Zoner,
> happy as could be since he'd been smart enough not to bet on my
> second fight, or maybe just because Meg Bennett had turned up; and
> Meg, sprightly as always.
> Again, I think I'll just leave the details to your
> imagination.
ARL: I don't know, Ben...
[ARL looks at S.D. and RACE.]
ARL: Do you really think that's wise?
RACE: That's a shallow stereotype and you know it.
> We ordered a ton of stuff, passed it around, swapped
> entrees, cadged each other's appetizers, and gorged ourselves silly.
> We told embarrassing stories about each other, asked personal
> questions, renewed old friendships and began a few new ones. When the
> meal was done, Rose had to get back to Maine, Charlie to wherever he'd
> come from (he didn't mention it and we didn't ask),
MMK: He said it was too complicated to explain.
[ARL twitches.]
> Meg to Boston and
> Cammy to Scotland; the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
SD: Infamous? From what exactly?
MMK: The first UF.
SD: Oh. I missed that.
ARL: [still twitching] Lucky you.
> for a raucous evening of video gaming.
> Here, we six, as a group, learned many interesting things
> about each other.
> - I would rather play S.T.U.N. Runner than anything else in
> the joint.
> - Zoner is a big fan of Hard Drivin'.
> - Janet kicks -ass- at Lethal Enforcers. (What a surprise,
> huh?)
TBS: Yeah, her and Lynn Cullen.
> - Sakura is hell on little red sneakers at air hockey.
> - Ken is not very good at Karate Master.
> - Ryu is the galaxy's most inept driver.
> We had a hell of a good time, though. Playoff had a new game,
> the second in Sega's Virtua Fighter series - a unique series, not only
> for its rendered-polygon technology, but also for the fact that the
> characters in the game are based on real fighters, some of whom we
> knew.
ARL: I'd pay good money to see what some characters would say about the games they're in...
RACE: Or what the programmers would say to the characters... <programmer> Well Miss Kasumi, we didn't have much to go on when it came to animating your breasts, but we could try some motion capture technology. Here, let me attach the sensors...
[Rephrase?]
[Nah, it works for me. -z]
> We all had a good laugh at the thought of the real Jacky
> Bryant's hair being all polygonal and spikey like that.
> "Huh," said Ken, watching Ryu and Zoner go at it on VF2.
> "Y'know, we should get together and with some game company and do
> something like this." He grinned.
ARL: ...and the Fourth Wall simultaneously implodes *and* explodes.
TBS: What kind of sound would that make, anyway?
> "Oh great," Janet observed. "Next thing you know every
> league's got its own game. What's that second-string circuit where
> they allow body armor and blunt weapons?"
> Sakura snorted. "The Vipers? Nobody'd touch a game with
> -those- sleazebags in it."
RACE: You know, I'd say something about Hutchins flaunting his opinions,
but he *does* have a point.
> "I suppose not," Ken said, warming to his idea, "but we've got
> charm and class! Only wouldn't it be cool if, instead of this 3D
> polygon stuff, it was a hand-drawn anime-style game, y'know, with 2D
> animated sprites, like a modern version of Karate Master? Yeah,
> that'd kick! I'll have to make some calls."
ARL: Spot the irony, ladies and gentlemen!
GAVOK: I found it!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Wait, it's just a dried-up Jujubee. Sorry, my bad.
> "I'd pay real money to see you get M. Bison to agree to be in
> a video game," I remarked.
> "Watch me," Ken said with a smirk. "He'll do it; it'll feed
> his ego."
> "Why hand-drawn?" Janet wondered.
> Ken shrugged. "Looks cool. Cooler than polygons, anyway.
S.D.: Uh-oh, Cracker Jack and Sharon aren't going to like *that*...
> If
> you get the right artists."
> "If you're going to make it sprite-based," Ryu wondered,
> pausing for a moment to take Zoner for a ride on Splash Mountain, "why
> not use digitized photos of the fighters?"
> Ken, Sakura, Zoner, Janet and I all winced together and said
> in unison, "Eew!"
> "OK, maybe not," Ryu said, shrugging and returning his full
> concentration to the game.
>
> END BATTLE 03
>
>
>
>
> Ah, Bancroft Tower on a bright and sunny morning in the
> summertime. The smell of the trees and the new-mown grass... the
> looming grey bulk of the monument...
[ALL hum the theme to "2001: A Space Odyssey."]
> the roar of the crowd.
RACE: They opened an Apollo Theater on the planet Kashyyk.
> The crowd?
TBS <MegaZone>: Damn! I KNEW I forgot something!
> Well, maybe not a crowd, really, but a pretty good-sized
> gathering, anyway.
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: I love those.
> The local folks know that Gryphon fights, and a
> lot of them are his fans - whenever he fights here at the Tower, the
> WPI Science Fiction Society turns out en masse, even though some of
> them aren't really into violence, to cheer him on,
MMK, GAVOK, TBS <Fans>: KICK HIS ASS, GRYPHON!
S.D. <Fan>: But do it gently!
> and a lot of the
> local businesses send their support. After all, a World Warrior-level
> street fighter's reputation has a tendency to keep the streets quiet,
[There's a Dan joke in here, but...]
RACE: Unless it's Dan, in which case the streets are filled with howls of laughter.
[How's that? I wasn't sure if anyone in the theatre would take exception to japes at Dan; if they would, feel free to add their in-character objections. -z]
> and he and I -have- stopped a few local crimes just by happening to be
> in various local stores when some unfortunate idiot decided to shake
> the place down.
ARL <store manager>: Mr. Akuma, can you please stop taunting? The walls are starting to crack.
> I was also pleased to see that the WPI Campus Police had sent
> a representative,
ARL: It's... WPI CAMPUS MAN TO THE RESCUE!
> or perhaps she had taken it upon herself to come;
> either way, the presence of Sergeant Janet Marshall, in uniform,
ARL: Who in the name of Rokusaburo Michiba is Janet Marshall?
TBS: She's the chick in UF with the Photon weapons and the pet Mag.
GAVOK: No, that's Janice Barlow.
TBS: Oh. Then she's the transplanted Canadian living in London who looks like Daria and writes fics about Daria meeting her look-alike.
MMK: Nah, that's Janet Neilson.
> promised to keep the crowd under control. Not that Gryph has a
> problem with unruly fans most of the time, but you can never be too
> secure. Janet's a hell of a fighter in her own right.
S.D.: Her left, however, is crap.
> Once, I saw
> her break up a brawl in the Wedge with her bare hands, five big guys
> with knives and broken bottles and she didn't get a scratch.
ARL: Of course she used an M-16 to break it up, but never mind that.
> You might find the presence of local law enforcement, in
> uniform but not doing anything, at the site of an illegal street fight
> kind of odd, but it's that way in a lot of places.
MMK <Joey>: Of course... IN BIZARRO WORLD!
> The cooler cops
> know that the real fighters, the ones who register with outfits like
> the WCMAT Authority, are trained and for the most part know what
> they're doing, and that they accept the risks inherent in the game.
> Nobody ever gets hurt in one of Gryphon's matches who isn't willing to
> get hurt,
ARL: Read: Gryphon never gets hurt.
> and, like I mentioned before, his rep keeps the local crime
> rate down. They know he's a straight arrow, and so they look the
> other way, and sometimes, like Janet,
MMK: They let you call them Ms. Jackson if you're nasty.
> they turn up to provide a little
> crowd control and give the proceedings an air of legitimacy.
MMK <Police>: This is a legitamite illegal fight. I repeat! This is a legitamite illegal fight.
GAVOK <Police>: Please make your way to the alley for legitamite uncontrolled substances and firearms.
> Besides, I think Janet's kind of sweet on Ben, though she'd
> probably hurt me if I mentioned it.
[]
> If I were him I don't think
> it'd hurt my feelings if she were; Janet's not exactly what I'd call
> hard on the eyes.
> Gryphon's "arena" isn't fancy; it's just the square of
> more-or-less-flat asphalt in front of Bancroft Tower's walkway, from
> the two mini-turrets (and the line of Jersey barricades between them)
> to the wall that keeps people from driving off the hill,
S.D.: New Jersey. Protecting its citizens from Darwinism since 1979.
> bordered on
> the sides by the turrets themselves. Gryphon stood by one turret, Ryu
> the other; Gryphon was wearing a black-and-white NIN shirt, his old
> jeans, his gloves and his Batman cap,
TBS: Now, does that amplify the coolness effect of the NIN shirt, or cancel it out?
ARL: Or does it rather amplify the poserness?
> while Ryu had his usual white
> gi, headband and vambraces.
> Janet separated herself from the spectators, then, and went to
> the middle of the ring, and I realized that she was going to ref for
> Ben, something she does occasionally for his home fights, though not
> always.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Yoo hoo! Referee Janet! I like your hair!
> Whenever she does, it's an extra incentive for his opponent
> to stay in line, not that she had anything to worry about with Ryu.
TBS <Gryphon, singing>: Because you're mine, he'll walk the line.
> I felt a hand on my arm; turning, I was surprised (and
> pleased) to see Meg grinning at me.
MMK: I want number specifics, damn you.
> "Meg!" I declared. "How'd you get here?"
GAVOK <Meg>: Practice!
> She shrugged. "Hitched."
> "That's dangerous," I pointed out, trying (and failing) to be
> stern.
RACE: Yeah. That has GOT to be the worst Fartman impression I've EVER seen.
> She rolled her eyes adorably.
TBS: Then she scratched her butt adorably, took a bite out of her greasy Taquito adorably, then belched.
S.D.: Adorably, I take it.
TBS: Heck no. Who ever heard of belching adorably?
S.D.: ...
RACE <Meg>: Itsy-bitsy cutey-wutey Meggy-chan is sooo kawaii! WAIIII!!!
ARL: Race?
RACE: Yes?
ARL: DON'T DO THAT.
> "I think I can take care of
> myself. Anyway, I wanted to see the fight, but I figured you'd be a
> little busy to come and pick me up."
> "Well, you're just in time," I said, "I think it's about to
> start."
> Just as I said it, Janet cleared her throat and announced the
> fight.
S.D. <Janet>: Let's get ready to! [long pause] ...line?
ARL: [softly] Rumble.
S.D. <Janet>: Oh. Let's get ready to rumba!
[ARL slaps his forehead.]
> "Ladies and gentlemen!" she declared in the clear, loud voice
> they teach at cop school for crowd control. "May I introduce today's
> challenger! A Shotokan Karate fighter from Tokyo, Japan, with a
> hundred and eight wins - ninety-nine by knockout - three losses and
> two draws: Ryu Hoshi!"
[ALL cheer.]
MMK: RYU HOSHI ROCKS!
GAVOK <Ryu>: I gotta dance, I gotta dance! (gets up and dances) Dance, sucka!
> As Ryu stepped out to the middle of the ring, on Janet's left,
> most of the crowd, knowing Gryphon's fondness for politeness,
> applauded. A couple of high-school kids toward the back booed and
> yelled "YOU SUCK!",
GAVOK <Ryu>: I don't suck; I'm just in a different quality bracket!
TBS <Ryu>: You swallow!
RACE: Shao Kahn's still in the 10th grade.
> and I could see Gryphon making a mental note to
> speak to them later.
ARL: And fulfill his side of the bargain by paying them $5 each.
> Alone among the spectators, Sakura cheered
> wildly.
MMK: Sakura's got... [gasp] COOTIES!
[RACE clobbers MMK with his spatula.]
RACE: Thou shalt not talk down upon Sakura, knave!
MMK: [pops his neck] Ow. [pause] Didn't hurt. [pause] Ow.
> "And Bancroft Tower's champion, an Icon of Stone Ler Drit
> fighter with sixty-seven wins - fifty-four by knockout - two losses
> and no draws: Ben 'Gryphon' Hutchins!"
> Now the crowd cheered as Gryph took his place on Janet's
> right, save those two jerks in the back, who still booed, and Sakura,
> who was entirely silent.
S.D. <Sakura>: ...I forgot my line!
> "OK, you guys, here are the rules. No choke holds. No
> intentional dislocations or broken bones. If the other guy quits, you
> stop. Got it?"
ARL: Nothing about foreign objects?
GAVOK: All RIGHT!! Hardcore rules Street Fighter!
> They nodded.
> "Shake hands," Janet said; Gryphon and Ryu shook, then backed
> up a couple of steps and bowed.
> "Ready?" asked Janet. Gryphon nodded. She looked to Ryu; he
> tightened his headband, then nodded as well. "Fight!" said Janet, and
> she backed up behind the Jersey barricades.
RACE <Karate Judge>: Begin!
TBS <Ryu>: You didn't say "Simon Says."
GAVOK: I'm pretty sure a pile of t-shirts aren't going to stop Ryu.
> Ryu didn't waste any time; as soon as Janet was out of the
> way, he leaped up and forward as if going for a drop kick, but landed
> short, trying for a leg sweep. He caught Gryph flat-footed (pardon
> the expression) with that one, tripping him up; Gryph had been fading
> back and preparing a punch counter for the kick, and fell heavily to
> his back on the pavement, but almost immediately rolled to his feet
> and launched a spinning back fist.
MMK: Gryphon IS Popeye the Sailor Man!
GAVOK <sings>: I'm strong to the finish 'cause I write the ficcish! I'm Gryphon the SI Man! TOOT TOOT!
> Ryu stepped smoothly into the path
> and blocked the fist with his left forearm, launching a jab with his
> right; Gryph ducked under it and shot an off-hand ducking fierce into
> Ryu's gut.
MMK <Akuma>: So, Ryu. It seems you have improved over the years, despite turning away from the dark side.
GAVOK <Ryu>: I will never use evil to gain victories, Akuma! Now show me your power! I'm not here to avenge my master's death. I'm here to continue my journey.
MMK <Akuma>: ...............
GAVOK <Ryu>: You're looking at my gut, aren't you!?
MMK <Akuma>: Shoushi!
GAVOK <Ryu>: I'm working on it! It just takes me a while since I'm middle aged!
> He should've flared it, I thought to myself as Ryu was shoved
> back a little by the force of the blow.
S.D.: It's because Gryphon LOVES him!
> Then I realized why Gryph
> hadn't done just that - he was already channeling his Ler, using it
> for the push-off in the second part of his ducking-fierce-to-knee-thrust
> combo. With his Ler pushing him, he exploded up from the crouch,
S.D.: Who's the wise guy that planted the land mines?
RACE: Okay, why did I just read that as "exploded up from the crotch?"
MMK: "Ben Hutchins remote detonated my balls?"
> left
> knee outstretched, and the knee plowed up under Ryu's chin, knocking
> him over backward. As Gryph landed, feet spread, Ryu got unsteadily
> to his feet and wobbled for a moment.
> Capitalizing on his window of opportunity, Gryph swung into
> his double high kick; the first blow caught Ryu full in the face, but
> seemed to wake him up.
TBS: A cup of coffee would have done the same thing.
> The Shotokan fighter ducked the second kick
> and, while Gryph was still winding out of his spin, Ryu cocked his
> hands at his side, eyebrows colliding.
MMK <singing>: ...and this is what it's like when eyebrows COLLIDE!!
Are you ready to go? Yes I'm ready to go, what'cha wanna do, bay-bay,
bay-bay...
> I winced, knowing what was
> next:
> "HADOKEN!" The fireball crashed into Gryphon's midsection
> from point-blank range, drawing an audible grunt as the air was forced
> out of his lungs, and as Gryph stumbled back, Ryu kept his crouch and
> wound into a stance I knew, from watching previous fights, meant
> trouble.
TBS <MegaZone>: NO! Not the Macarena!
> "SHORYUKEN!" Ryu cried, launching himself up in one of the
> other signature moves of his style.
TBS: Often imitated... and often duplicated, actually.
ARL: Right now all the shoto-scrubs are salivating at the thought of
being able to combo a Hadoken into a Shoryuken.
RACE: Just salivating?
ARL: Well, possibly other things, but I'd like to keep this conversation
at a PG level, thank you.
> It was a textbook blow, caught
> Gryph right under the chin, picked up him and dumped him on the
> ground, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn into little X's at
> the moment of impact. Gryphon didn't bounce to his feet with quite
> the same speed as he had last time, but get up he did, with that gleam
> in his eyes that showed he was really enjoying the fight,
RACE <Gryphon>: Thank you for the glorious pain!
S.D. <Gryphon>: Thank you, sir! May I have another?
> and his
> hands flared and crackling with energy.
> Again Ryu wasted no time, launching himself into a Hurricane
> Kick (with appropriate shout),
MMK, GAVOK <Ryu>: [singing] I! LIKE! BIG! BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!
> but this time, Gryph was ready for
> him, his flared arms raised and crossed in a block. Ryu's kick shoved
> him back a little, but as Ryu was busy landing, Gryph moved with all
> the deceptive speed his opponents rarely give him credit for, darting
> his left hand forward, seizing Ryu's head face-on,
MMK <singing>: I will make you smell the glove...
[A faraway "Ding!" echoes in the theater.]
> and, forearm
> muscles bulging, lifted him clean off the ground. Ryu raised his
> hands to Gryph's wrist, but he was already completing the throw,
> slamming Ryu down on the ground as if he were spiking a football after
> a touchdown.
GAVOK: It's the Wyler Throw! Yeah!
RACE: "Wyler Throw?" Who the hell is Wyler?
[Long pause.]
GAVOK: You want to know who Wyler is?
RACE: Well, yeah.
GAVOK <agitated>: *You* want to know who *Wyler* is?!
RACE: Um... yes...
GAVOK: YOU WANT TO *KNOW* WHO WYLER *IS?!?*
RACE: Well, if you're going to-
GAVOK: WYLER IS YOUR *GOD*, FOOL!!!
[The entire theater begins to shake. Suddenly, part of the left wall
explodes outwards in a shower of bricks, and WYLER, an eight-foot tall
overmuscled behemoth of a man in torn pants, lumbers through.]
WYLER: Who say they not know Wyler??
[ALL BUT RACE leap out of their seats and scatter. WYLER lumbers over to
a terrified RACE and glares at him.]
WYLER: You not know Wyler? Then you PAY!
[WYLER reaches out with and picks up RACE by the head. He rears back and
prepares his Wyler Throw (tm) when a woman wearing a black jacket and wielding a whip runs through the hole in the wall.]
WOMAN <shouting behind her>: Hey Proto, he's here!
WYLER: Crap.
[WYLER drops RACE and runs through the opposite wall, scattering bricks
hither and yon. The WOMAN chases after him, followed by a man who looks
exactly like Genjuro from "Samurai Shodown."]
MAN: Yo Edgey, don't lose him! <to himself> Damn it, Gunsmith ain't payin'
me enough for this...
[They both disappear through the hole in the wall. Silence reigns for a
few moments, and ALL slowly return to their seats.]
ARL: That was... even more random than usual.
S.D.: No kidding.
GAVOK: Now you know the true power of Wyler, Racewing.
RACE: ...I hate this theater.
[...oy. Sorry again. -RoP]
> Ryu rolled a couple of feet away and got back to his feet,
> settling into his ready stance, looking battered,
GAVOK: Kentucky Fried Shotokan!
> but not bowed. He
> nodded, ever so slightly, with respect,
GAVOK: Ah, showing the respect.
TBS: RESPECT!
MMK: Show the full respect for the opponent.
GAVOK: R!
MMK: E!
RACE: S!
GAVOK: P!
TBS: S!
GAVOK, MMK: ..........WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!
TBS: I got confused.
> and waited for Gryph to make
> the next move.
ARL <Gryphon>: Knight over pawn.
> Gryphon did not disappoint; reflaring his hands, he swept them
> forward in a crackling arc and unleashed his Psycho Lightning.
> Unfortunately, the sweep gave Ryu enough warning;
ARL: Telegram for Ryu. It reads, "I'm going to attack you now! Stop. Gryphon. Stop."
> he jumped over it,
> knocking Gryph back with a flying kick and landing in front of him in
> good position for another Dragon Punch.
ARL: As for the people standing behind Ryu... well...
> Gryph grinned, just a little, and his eyes gleamed.
MMK <Gryphon>: Aku wa yurusen!
> Then he swung into his most complicated combo, the one I'd
> seen him pull off a grand total of three times so far in his career:
> a fast and vicious three-puncher, left jab, right cross, left
> uppercut, that drove Ryu back enough for Gryph to go into a seamless
> double kick.
MMK <Strider> and GAVOK <Wolverine>: Amateur.
[I'd have Wandy say something, but then I'd be jumped by Shade yelling "MADS DON'T RIFF!! MADS DON'T RIFF!! BLAAAARGH!!" -RoP]
> By the first kick's impact, Ryu was already unconscious;
> the second kick juggled him back into a semblance of a standing
> position, and then he toppled over backward and sprawled on the
> pavement. There was one move left in the combo,
GAVOK: A taste of the awful... The insidious... Flying Butt Pliers!
> but Gryphon saw there
> was no need for it and arrested his motion before he could follow his
> falling opponent down on one knee and bounce his head off the asphalt
> with another left jab.
> The crowd went nuts as Janet shouted "Champion wins!"
[ALL watch the screen in stunned silence.]
ARL: I'm sorry, but I did NOT just see Gryphon beat Ryu Hoshi...
RACE: Yes you did.
ARL: You're not helping!
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it.
S.D.: You're not gonna say it.
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it!
S.D.: You're not gonna say it!
GAVOK: Fine, I won't. But Snotters and Knight will.
TBS, MMK: Who *booked* this crap?
>
> G
> Ryu was already sitting up and holding his head by the time
> Janet and I reached him; I offered him a hand up, which he accepted,
> and as I drew him to his feet, he clapped his other hand to my
> shoulder and grinned.
> "You're better than you were last time," he said.
> "I beat you last time, too," I pointed out.
ARL: I'm sorry, is this some other version of Ryu that we don't know about?
Some version that didn't beat M. Bison, Akuma and goodness knows how
many other people?
RACE: Woah! Hold the phone, I just thought of something! Y'know how Ryu's
supposed to be the greatest fighter ever, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and Akuma's looking for great warriors to fight against, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and anyone who managed to defeat Ryu, not once but TWICE has to be
a great fighter, right?
ARL: I suppose so, but what are you-
[A beat. ARL smirks.]
ARL: Hutchins just stepped in it big-time, didn't he?
RACE: Oh yeah.
(Vok note: I took Gill out. Ryu never fought Gill in the official canon)
> Ryu shrugged. "What is it the fans of the local baseball
> team say?
TBS: Something along the lines of, "GOD DAMN IT! MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"
> There's always next year."
> As Janet got out a penlight and checked both our eyes to make
> sure we weren't walking around with any lethal brain hemorrhages
> going, we noticed we were no longer alone in the ring; a small figure
> in a sailor outfit had broken away from the crowd and was edging
> toward us,
ARL: It's... [dramatic pause]
ALL: DARK POPEYE!
GAVOK <Dark Popeye>: I'm strong to the finish 'cause I eat THE SOULS OF THE DAMNED! BLEARGH!
> hesitant, with a mixture of concern and appalled shock on
> her face.
> As Ryu turned to face her, Sakura looked up at him and said
> incredulously, "You... you -lost-."
GAVOK <Sakura>: You SUCK! That's it, I'm obsessing over Terry Bogard from now on!
> She looked somewhere between
> astounded and crushed, as if she'd just seen a street gang mug Santa
> Claus.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Man, that brings back memories.
> "It happens," Ryu replied, nodding. "Not often, but it
> happens."
RACE <Ryu>: I saw the Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and my mind kept telling me I was fighting Remy.
> "But - "
> Ken prevented us from ever finding out exactly what her
> protest would have entailed. He hadn't forgotten his promise to take
> on the winner, and now, even if the winner hadn't turned out to be the
> one he thought it would be, his fighter's ego wouldn't let him back
> down.
ARL <Ken>: Good thing I have Jack Carver on speed dial.
> I won't bore you with the details of our fight. Did I win?
ARL <Gryphon>: Did I ever!
RACE: Bitter?
ARL: Yes.
> Hah! The day I can defeat Ryu AND Ken in succession is the day I go
> to M. Bison's island fortress and rifle his sock drawer.
MMK: So he hasn't booked himself as *completely* indestructible.
ARL: Or else he simply realizes that there's a difference between suspension of disbelief and expecting your readership to *hang* their disbelief by the neck 'til dead.
> When I came to, I thought that somebody, maybe Janet, maybe
> Cammy, was mopping at my face with a wet cloth.
S.D. <Cammy>: I found this in Blanka's underwear drawer.
> Then, after a few
> moments of gathering my brains back together, I realized it was
> actually Fury, and, lacking thumbs, he wasn't using a cloth.
RACE: He was using... a loofa sponge!
> "Eyagh," I remarked, pushing him away and sitting slowly and
> carefully up. Nothing rattled around too badly, so I tried standing.
> I must confess I accidentally copped a bit of a feel when Janet rushed
> to prop me up with her shoulder, but it wasn't intentional,
RACE: Right.
> I wasn't
> in a position to enjoy it much,
RACE: Riiiiight.
> and she didn't seem to notice.
S.D. <Janet>: Do that again and I Rodney King your ass.
> Focusing my eyes on the quintet before me, I saw that Ryu,
> Sakura, Cammy and Zoner looked worried, while Ken looked contrite.
> "Well," I grumbled, testing my arm and leg joints to make sure
> everything still bent in the right direction and -only- the right
> direction, "I hope you're satisfied, Ken."
TBS <Ken>: I sure am!
ALL: Us, too!
GAVOK: BEAT HIM AGAIN!
> "Woof," said Fury reproachfully. I scratched his ears.
> Ken hung his head. "I guess I'm kind of a jerk, huh."
GAVOK: I'm saying saint.
> "I guess," I said as severely as I could, but when he peeked
> out at me through his bushy reddish eyebrows, my severity cracked and
> I snickered. "But aren't we all, at times?
TBS <Gryphon>: Well, besides me of course.
> Tell you what, I'll
> forgive you if you'll forgive Ryu."
> Ken looked dubious for a moment, then smiled and turned to
> Ryu. "OK... put 'er there, pal."
> Ryu smiled and took his old friend's hand.
> "All right. Now I'm gonna get some Tylenol in this head of
> mine, and we're gonna go celebrate. Who's with me?"
[ALL mumble excuses.]
TBS: ...gotta water my cat...
GAVOK: ...hat needs cleaning...
RACE: ...little sister in the oven...
> The staff at Ping's Garden have learned to roll with it when I
> turn up on their doorstep with a small horde of hungry people.
ALL: Braaaainsss... braaaainsss...
> And a
> horde we were, rampaging and ravenous: me, Ryu, and Ken, showered,
S.D.: Hey now! This is some self insertion I can get into.
> changed and starting to show some bruises; Janet, now off-duty and out
> of uniform in t-shirt and jeans; Charlie; Rose; Sakura; Cammy; Zoner,
> happy as could be since he'd been smart enough not to bet on my
> second fight, or maybe just because Meg Bennett had turned up; and
> Meg, sprightly as always.
> Again, I think I'll just leave the details to your
> imagination.
ARL: I don't know, Ben...
[ARL looks at S.D. and RACE.]
ARL: Do you really think that's wise?
RACE: That's a shallow stereotype and you know it.
> We ordered a ton of stuff, passed it around,
MMK <Gryphon>: Got higher than kites.
> swapped
> entrees,
TBS: Ryu and Ken swapped heads.
> cadged each other's appetizers, and gorged ourselves silly.
> We told embarrassing stories about each other, asked personal
> questions, renewed old friendships and began a few new ones. When the
> meal was done, Rose had to get back to Maine, Charlie to wherever he'd
> come from (he didn't mention it and we didn't ask),
MMK: He said it was too complicated to explain.
[ARL twitches.]
> Meg to Boston and
> Cammy to Scotland; the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
SD: Infamous? From what exactly?
MMK: The first UF.
SD: Oh. I missed that.
ARL: [still twitching] Lucky you.
> for a raucous evening of video gaming.
ARL <Ryu>: Hey Gryphon, notice how you're not in this game but we are?
RACE <Gryphon>: Shut up...
> Here, we six, as a group, learned many interesting things
> about each other.
> - I would rather play S.T.U.N. Runner than anything else in
> the joint.
> - Zoner is a big fan of Hard Drivin'.
> - Janet kicks -ass- at Lethal Enforcers. (What a surprise,
> huh?)
TBS: Yeah, her and Lynn Cullen.
> - Sakura is hell on little red sneakers at air hockey.
> - Ken is not very good at Karate Master.
> - Ryu is the galaxy's most inept driver.
> We had a hell of a good time, though. Playoff had a new game,
> the second in Sega's Virtua Fighter series - a unique series, not only
> for its rendered-polygon technology, but also for the fact that the
> characters in the game are based on real fighters, some of whom we
> knew.
ARL: I'd pay good money to see what some characters would say about the games they're in...
RACE: Or what the programmers would say to the characters... <programmer> Well Miss Kasumi, we didn't have much to go on when it came to animating your breasts, but we could try some motion capture technology. Here, let me attach the sensors...
[Rephrase?]
[Nah, it works for me. -z]
> We all had a good laugh at the thought of the real Jacky
> Bryant's hair being all polygonal and spikey like that.
> "Huh," said Ken, watching Ryu and Zoner go at it on VF2.
> "Y'know, we should get together and with some game company and do
> something like this." He grinned.
ARL: ...and the Fourth Wall simultaneously implodes *and* explodes.
TBS: What kind of sound would that make, anyway?
> "Oh great," Janet observed. "Next thing you know every
> league's got its own game. What's that second-string circuit where
> they allow body armor and blunt weapons?"
> Sakura snorted. "The Vipers? Nobody'd touch a game with
> -those- sleazebags in it."
RACE: You know, I'd say something about Hutchins flaunting his opinions,
but he *does* have a point.
> "I suppose not," Ken said, warming to his idea, "but we've got
> charm and class! Only wouldn't it be cool if, instead of this 3D
> polygon stuff, it was a hand-drawn anime-style game, y'know, with 2D
> animated sprites, like a modern version of Karate Master? Yeah,
> that'd kick! I'll have to make some calls."
ARL: Spot the irony, ladies and gentlemen!
GAVOK: I found it!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Wait, it's just a dried-up Jujubee. Sorry, my bad.
> "I'd pay real money to see you get M. Bison to agree to be in
> a video game," I remarked.
> "Watch me," Ken said with a smirk. "He'll do it; it'll feed
> his ego."
GAVOK <Ken>: And who knows more about ego than me?
MMK <Gryphon>: AHEM!
> "Why hand-drawn?" Janet wondered.
> Ken shrugged. "Looks cool. Cooler than polygons, anyway.
S.D.: Uh-oh, Cracker Jack and Sharon aren't going to like *that*...
> If
> you get the right artists."
> "If you're going to make it sprite-based," Ryu wondered,
> pausing for a moment to take Zoner for a ride on Splash Mountain, "why
> not use digitized photos of the fighters?"
> Ken, Sakura, Zoner, Janet and I all winced together and said
> in unison, "Eew!"
GAVOK: Baraka owns each and every one of you!
RACE: Hey!
GAVOK: I stand by my comment.
> "OK, maybe not," Ryu said, shrugging and returning his full
> concentration to the game.
>
> END BATTLE 03
>
> Ah, Bancroft Tower on a bright and sunny morning in the
> summertime. The smell of the trees and the new-mown grass...
TBS: ...the sounds of shopping carts meeting their final resting place at the tower's base...
the
> looming grey bulk of the monument...
[ALL hum the theme to "2001: A Space Odyssey."]
> the roar of the crowd.
RACE: They opened an Apollo Theater on the planet Kashyyk.
> The crowd?
TBS <MegaZone>: Damn! I KNEW I forgot something!
> Well, maybe not a crowd, really, but a pretty good-sized
> gathering, anyway.
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: I love those.
> The local folks know that Gryphon fights, and a
> lot of them are his fans - whenever he fights here at the Tower, the
> WPI Science Fiction Society turns out en masse,
ARL: They're all gay?
RACE: "Turns out," not "comes out."
ARL: Not that there's, you know, anything-
RACE: Give it up, man.
> even though some of
> them aren't really into violence, to cheer him on,
MMK, GAVOK, TBS <Fans>: KICK HIS ASS, GRYPHON!
S.D. <Fan>: But do it gently!
> and a lot of the
> local businesses send their support.
RACE <Local Businessman>: Buy my product! Or my pet SI will KICK YOUR ASS!
> After all, a World Warrior-level
> street fighter's reputation has a tendency to keep the streets quiet,
[There's a Dan joke in here, but...]
RACE: Unless it's Dan, in which case the streets are filled with howls of laughter.
[How's that? I wasn't sure if anyone in the theatre would take exception to japes at Dan; if they would, feel free to add their in-character objections. -z]
> and he and I -have- stopped a few local crimes just by happening to be
> in various local stores when some unfortunate idiot decided to shake
> the place down.
ARL <store manager>: Mr. Akuma, can you please stop taunting? The walls are starting to crack.
> I was also pleased to see that the WPI Campus Police had sent
> a representative,
ARL: It's... WPI CAMPUS MAN TO THE RESCUE!
> or perhaps she had taken it upon herself to come;
> either way, the presence of Sergeant Janet Marshall, in uniform,
ARL: Who in the name of Rokusaburo Michiba is Janet Marshall?
TBS: She's the chick in UF with the Photon weapons and the pet Mag.
GAVOK: No, that's Janice Barlow.
TBS: Oh. Then she's the transplanted Canadian living in London who looks like Daria and writes fics about Daria meeting her look-alike.
MMK: Nah, that's Janet Neilson.
TBS: Then she's that chick from Fighting Vipers.
GAVOK: If you say so.
ARL: What?
MMK: Snot's commands dictate reality.
TBS: Yeah, I said so, so it's true.
[SnotNote: Possible minor side-skittage?]
> promised to keep the crowd under control. Not that Gryph has a
> problem with unruly fans most of the time, but you can never be too
> secure. Janet's a hell of a fighter in her own right.
S.D.: Her left, however, is crap.
> Once, I saw
> her break up a brawl in the Wedge with her bare hands, five big guys
> with knives and broken bottles and she didn't get a scratch.
ARL: Of course she used an M-16 to break it up, but never mind that.
> You might find the presence of local law enforcement, in
> uniform but not doing anything, at the site of an illegal street fight
> kind of odd, but it's that way in a lot of places.
MMK <Joey>: Of course... IN BIZARRO WORLD!
> The cooler cops
> know that the real fighters, the ones who register with outfits like
> the WCMAT Authority, are trained and for the most part know what
> they're doing, and that they accept the risks inherent in the game.
TBS: Except those Magic players. They unnerve everyone.
> Nobody ever gets hurt in one of Gryphon's matches who isn't willing to
> get hurt,
ARL: Read: Gryphon never gets hurt.
> and, like I mentioned before, his rep keeps the local crime
> rate down. They know he's a straight arrow, and so they look the
> other way, and sometimes, like Janet,
MMK: They let you call them Ms. Jackson if you're nasty.
> they turn up to provide a little
> crowd control and give the proceedings an air of legitimacy.
MMK <Police>: This is a legitamite illegal fight. I repeat! This is a legitamite illegal fight.
GAVOK <Police>: Please make your way to the alley for legitamite uncontrolled substances and firearms.
> Besides, I think Janet's kind of sweet on Ben, though she'd
> probably hurt me if I mentioned it.
S.D: Just like *any* piece of handy Fighting Game Booty.
ARL: Fighting game booty?
S.D: Snot said so.
[ARLIETH quietly fumes]
[SnotNote: I'll try and work this into a legit running gag, but feel free to nix it later if it flops...]
> If I were him I don't think
> it'd hurt my feelings if she were; Janet's not exactly what I'd call
> hard on the eyes.
MMK <Zoner>: Not like his last girlfriend, Granite.
> Gryphon's "arena" isn't fancy; it's just the square of
> more-or-less-flat asphalt in front of Bancroft Tower's walkway, from
> the two mini-turrets (and the line of Jersey barricades between them)
> to the wall that keeps people from driving off the hill,
S.D.: New Jersey. Protecting its citizens from Darwinism since 1979.
> bordered on
> the sides by the turrets themselves. Gryphon stood by one turret, Ryu
> the other; Gryphon was wearing a black-and-white NIN shirt, his old
> jeans, his gloves and his Batman cap,
TBS: Now, does that amplify the coolness effect of the NIN shirt, or cancel it out?
ARL: Or does it rather amplify the poserness?
MMK: Or can Gryphon make even Mentos uncool?
GAVOK: Oooh, harsh call.
> while Ryu had his usual white
> gi, headband and vambraces.
> Janet separated herself from the spectators, then, and went to
> the middle of the ring, and I realized that she was going to ref for
> Ben, something she does occasionally for his home fights, though not
> always.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Yoo hoo! Referee Janet! I like your hair!
TBS: And at other times...
MMK <David Bowie>: Perhaps I could be of service, gentlemen.
> Whenever she does, it's an extra incentive for his opponent
> to stay in line, not that she had anything to worry about with Ryu.
TBS <Gryphon, singing>: Because you're mine, he'll walk the line.
> I felt a hand on my arm; turning, I was surprised (and
> pleased) to see Meg grinning at me.
MMK: I want number specifics, damn you.
> "Meg!" I declared. "How'd you get here?"
GAVOK <Meg>: Practice!
> She shrugged. "Hitched."
> "That's dangerous," I pointed out, trying (and failing) to be
> stern.
RACE: Yeah. That has GOT to be the worst Fartman impression I've EVER seen.
> She rolled her eyes adorably.
TBS: Then she scratched her butt adorably, took a bite out of her greasy Taquito adorably, then belched.
S.D.: Adorably, I take it.
TBS: Heck no. Who ever heard of belching adorably?
S.D.: ...
RACE <Meg>: Itsy-bitsy cutey-wutey Meggy-chan is sooo kawaii! WAIIII!!!
ARL: Race?
RACE: Yes?
ARL: DON'T DO THAT.
> "I think I can take care of
> myself. Anyway, I wanted to see the fight, but I figured you'd be a
> little busy to come and pick me up."
MMK <Zoner, sleazy>: The Zonester's never too busy... for love.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Hey, Zoner! Robotech's on!
MMK <Zoner>: Later baby!
> "Well, you're just in time," I said, "I think it's about to
> start."
> Just as I said it, Janet cleared her throat and announced the
> fight.
S.D. <Janet>: Let's get ready to! [long pause] ...line?
ARL: [softly] Rumble.
S.D. <Janet>: Oh. Let's get ready to rumba!
[ARL slaps his forehead.]
> "Ladies and gentlemen!" she declared in the clear, loud voice
> they teach at cop school for crowd control. "May I introduce today's
> challenger!
ARL [Janet]: The one on the card as "Dead Man Walking!"
> A Shotokan Karate fighter from Tokyo, Japan, with a
> hundred and eight wins - ninety-nine by knockout - three losses and
> two draws: Ryu Hoshi!"
[ALL cheer.]
MMK: RYU HOSHI ROCKS!
GAVOK <Ryu>: I gotta dance, I gotta dance! (gets up and dances) Dance, sucka!
> As Ryu stepped out to the middle of the ring, on Janet's left,
> most of the crowd, knowing Gryphon's fondness for politeness,
> applauded. A couple of high-school kids toward the back booed and
> yelled "YOU SUCK!",
GAVOK <Ryu>: I don't suck; I'm just in a different quality bracket!
TBS <Ryu>: You swallow!
RACE: Shao Kahn's still in the 10th grade.
> and I could see Gryphon making a mental note to
> speak to them later.
ARL: And fulfill his side of the bargain by paying them $5 each.
> Alone among the spectators, Sakura cheered
> wildly.
MMK: Sakura's got... [gasp] COOTIES!
[RACE clobbers MMK with his spatula.]
RACE: Thou shalt not talk down upon Sakura, knave!
MMK: [pops his neck] Ow. [pause] Didn't hurt. [pause] Ow.
> "And Bancroft Tower's champion, an Icon of Stone Ler Drit
> fighter with sixty-seven wins - fifty-four by knockout - two losses
> and no draws: Ben 'Gryphon' Hutchins!"
> Now the crowd cheered as Gryph took his place on Janet's
> right, save those two jerks in the back, who still booed, and Sakura,
> who was entirely silent.
S.D. <Sakura>: ...I forgot my line!
> "OK, you guys, here are the rules. No choke holds. No
> intentional dislocations or broken bones. If the other guy quits, you
> stop. Got it?"
ARL: Nothing about foreign objects?
GAVOK: All RIGHT!! Hardcore rules Street Fighter!
> They nodded.
> "Shake hands," Janet said; Gryphon and Ryu shook, then backed
> up a couple of steps and bowed.
> "Ready?" asked Janet. Gryphon nodded. She looked to Ryu; he
> tightened his headband, then nodded as well. "Fight!" said Janet, and
> she backed up behind the Jersey barricades.
RACE <Karate Judge>: Begin!
TBS <Ryu>: You didn't say "Simon Says."
GAVOK: I'm pretty sure a pile of t-shirts aren't going to stop Ryu.
> Ryu didn't waste any time; as soon as Janet was out of the
> way, he leaped up and forward as if going for a drop kick, but landed
> short, trying for a leg sweep. He caught Gryph flat-footed (pardon
> the expression) with that one, tripping him up; Gryph had been fading
> back and preparing a punch counter for the kick, and fell heavily to
> his back on the pavement, but almost immediately rolled to his feet
> and launched a spinning back fist.
MMK: Gryphon IS Popeye the Sailor Man!
GAVOK <sings>: I'm strong to the finish 'cause I write the ficcish! I'm Gryphon the SI Man! TOOT TOOT!
> Ryu stepped smoothly into the path
> and blocked the fist with his left forearm, launching a jab with his
> right; Gryph ducked under it and shot an off-hand ducking fierce into
> Ryu's gut.
MMK <Akuma>: So, Ryu. It seems you have improved over the years, despite turning away from the dark side.
GAVOK <Ryu>: I will never use evil to gain victories, Akuma! Now show me your power! I'm not here to avenge my master's death. I'm here to continue my journey.
MMK <Akuma>: ...............
GAVOK <Ryu>: You're looking at my gut, aren't you!?
MMK <Akuma>: Shoushi!
GAVOK <Ryu>: I'm working on it! It just takes me a while since I'm middle aged!
> He should've flared it, I thought to myself as Ryu was shoved
> back a little by the force of the blow.
S.D.: It's because Gryphon LOVES him!
> Then I realized why Gryph
> hadn't done just that - he was already channeling his Ler, using it
> for the push-off in the second part of his ducking-fierce-to-knee-thrust
> combo. With his Ler pushing him, he exploded up from the crouch,
S.D.: Who's the wise guy that planted the land mines?
RACE: Okay, why did I just read that as "exploded up from the crotch?"
MMK: "Ben Hutchins remote detonated my balls?"
> left
> knee outstretched, and the knee plowed up under Ryu's chin,
TBS [narrator]: Through the masking tape, through the cardboard, and right into Waldo Jefferson's head.
> knocking
> him over backward. As Gryph landed, feet spread, Ryu got unsteadily
> to his feet and wobbled for a moment.
> Capitalizing on his window of opportunity, Gryph swung into
> his double high kick; the first blow caught Ryu full in the face, but
> seemed to wake him up.
TBS: A cup of coffee would have done the same thing.
> The Shotokan fighter ducked the second kick
> and, while Gryph was still winding out of his spin, Ryu cocked his
> hands at his side, eyebrows colliding.
MMK <singing>: ...and this is what it's like when eyebrows COLLIDE!!
Are you ready to go? Yes I'm ready to go, what'cha wanna do, bay-bay,
bay-bay...
> I winced, knowing what was
> next:
> "HADOKEN!" The fireball crashed into Gryphon's midsection
> from point-blank range,
MMK: Ryu Hoshi, subbing for Soloman, in "Point Blank Shotokan."
GAVOK: He knows how to get inside an opponent's blind spot to hit them with beam supers.
TBS: There's an urban legend of four Shotoclones gathering after a man named [Aku-ma] appears to decide who is the scrubbiest of all...
[SnotNote: No, I'm STILL NOT OVER IT! WHOO!]
> drawing an audible grunt as the air was forced
> out of his lungs, and as Gryph stumbled back, Ryu kept his crouch and
> wound into a stance I knew, from watching previous fights, meant
> trouble.
TBS <MegaZone>: NO! Not the Macarena!
> "SHORYUKEN!" Ryu cried, launching himself up in one of the
> other signature moves of his style.
TBS: Often imitated... and often duplicated, actually.
ARL: Right now all the shoto-scrubs are salivating at the thought of
being able to combo a Hadoken into a Shoryuken.
RACE: Just salivating?
ARL: Well, possibly other things, but I'd like to keep this conversation
at a PG level, thank you.
> It was a textbook blow, caught
> Gryph right under the chin, picked up him and dumped him on the
> ground, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes turn into little X's at
> the moment of impact. Gryphon didn't bounce to his feet with quite
> the same speed as he had last time, but get up he did,
GAVOK: Weebles wobble but they don't fall down.
with that gleam
> in his eyes that showed he was really enjoying the fight,
RACE <Gryphon>: Thank you for the glorious pain!
S.D. <Gryphon>: Thank you, sir! May I have another?
ARL <Gryphon>: What is this 'battered fighter syndrome' you speak of?
> and his
> hands flared and crackling with energy.
> Again Ryu wasted no time, launching himself into a Hurricane
> Kick (with appropriate shout),
MMK, GAVOK <Ryu>: [singing] I! LIKE! BIG! BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!
> but this time, Gryph was ready for
> him, his flared arms raised and crossed in a block. Ryu's kick shoved
> him back a little, but as Ryu was busy landing, Gryph moved with all
> the deceptive speed his opponents rarely give him credit for, darting
> his left hand forward, seizing Ryu's head face-on,
MMK <singing>: I will make you smell the glove...
[A faraway "Ding!" echoes in the theater.]
> and, forearm
> muscles bulging, lifted him clean off the ground. Ryu raised his
> hands to Gryph's wrist, but he was already completing the throw,
> slamming Ryu down on the ground as if he were spiking a football after
> a touchdown.
GAVOK: It's the Wyler Throw! Yeah!
RACE: "Wyler Throw?" Who the hell is Wyler?
[Long pause.]
GAVOK: You want to know who Wyler is?
RACE: Well, yeah.
GAVOK <agitated>: *You* want to know who *Wyler* is?!
RACE: Um... yes...
GAVOK: YOU WANT TO *KNOW* WHO WYLER *IS?!?*
RACE: Well, if you're going to-
GAVOK: WYLER IS YOUR *GOD*, FOOL!!!
[The entire theater begins to shake. Suddenly, part of the left wall
explodes outwards in a shower of bricks, and WYLER, an eight-foot tall
overmuscled behemoth of a man in torn pants, lumbers through.]
WYLER: Who say they not know Wyler??
[ALL BUT RACE leap out of their seats and scatter. WYLER lumbers over to
a terrified RACE and glares at him.]
WYLER: You not know Wyler? Then you PAY!
[WYLER reaches out with and picks up RACE by the head. He rears back and
prepares his Wyler Throw (tm) when a woman wearing a black jacket and wielding a whip runs through the hole in the wall.]
WOMAN <shouting behind her>: Hey Proto, he's here!
WYLER: Crap.
[WYLER drops RACE and runs through the opposite wall, scattering bricks
hither and yon. The WOMAN chases after him, followed by a man who looks
exactly like Genjuro from "Samurai Shodown."]
MAN: Yo Edgey, don't lose him! <to himself> Damn it, Gunsmith ain't payin'
me enough for this...
[They both disappear through the hole in the wall. Silence reigns for a
few moments, and ALL slowly return to their seats.]
ARL: That was... even more random than usual.
S.D.: No kidding.
GAVOK: Now you know the true power of Wyler, Racewing.
RACE: ...I hate this theater.
[...oy. Sorry again. -RoP]
> Ryu rolled a couple of feet away and got back to his feet,
> settling into his ready stance, looking battered,
GAVOK: Kentucky Fried Shotokan!
> but not bowed. He
> nodded, ever so slightly, with respect,
GAVOK: Ah, showing the respect.
TBS: RESPECT!
MMK: Show the full respect for the opponent.
GAVOK: R!
MMK: E!
RACE: S!
GAVOK: P!
TBS: S!
GAVOK, MMK: ..........WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!
TBS: I got confused.
> and waited for Gryph to make
> the next move.
ARL <Gryphon>: Knight over pawn.
> Gryphon did not disappoint; reflaring his hands, he swept them
> forward in a crackling arc and unleashed his Psycho Lightning.
> Unfortunately, the sweep gave Ryu enough warning;
ARL: Telegram for Ryu. It reads, "I'm going to attack you now! Stop. Gryphon. Stop."
S.D: Oh, there's a P.S: "Please please please. Stop."
> he jumped over it,
> knocking Gryph back with a flying kick and landing in front of him in
> good position for another Dragon Punch.
ARL: As for the people standing behind Ryu... well...
> Gryph grinned, just a little, and his eyes gleamed.
MMK <Gryphon>: Aku wa yurusen!
> Then he swung into his most complicated combo, the one I'd
> seen him pull off a grand total of three times so far in his career:
> a fast and vicious three-puncher, left jab, right cross, left
> uppercut, that drove Ryu back enough for Gryph to go into a seamless
> double kick.
MMK <Strider> and GAVOK <Wolverine>: Amateur.
[I'd have Wandy say something, but then I'd be jumped by Shade yelling "MADS DON'T RIFF!! MADS DON'T RIFF!! BLAAAARGH!!" -RoP]
> By the first kick's impact, Ryu was already unconscious;
> the second kick juggled him back into a semblance of a standing
> position, and then he toppled over backward and sprawled on the
> pavement. There was one move left in the combo,
GAVOK: A taste of the awful... The insidious... Flying Butt Pliers!
> but Gryphon saw there
> was no need for it and arrested his motion before he could follow his
> falling opponent down on one knee and bounce his head off the asphalt
> with another left jab.
> The crowd went nuts as Janet shouted "Champion wins!"
[ALL watch the screen in stunned silence.]
ARL: I'm sorry, but I did NOT just see Gryphon beat Ryu Hoshi...
RACE: Yes you did.
ARL: You're not helping!
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it.
S.D.: You're not gonna say it.
GAVOK: I'm gonna say it!
S.D.: You're not gonna say it!
GAVOK: Fine, I won't. But Snotters and Knight will.
TBS, MMK: Who *booked* this crap?
>
> G
> Ryu was already sitting up and holding his head by the time
> Janet and I reached him; I offered him a hand up, which he accepted,
> and as I drew him to his feet, he clapped his other hand to my
> shoulder and grinned.
> "You're better than you were last time," he said.
> "I beat you last time, too," I pointed out.
ARL: I'm sorry, is this some other version of Ryu that we don't know about?
Some version that didn't beat M. Bison, Akuma and goodness knows how
many other people?
RACE: Woah! Hold the phone, I just thought of something! Y'know how Ryu's
supposed to be the greatest fighter ever, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and Akuma's looking for great warriors to fight against, right?
ARL: Right...
RACE: ...and anyone who managed to defeat Ryu, not once but TWICE has to be
a great fighter, right?
ARL: I suppose so, but what are you-
[A beat. ARL smirks.]
ARL: Hutchins just stepped in it big-time, didn't he?
RACE: Oh yeah.
(Vok note: I took Gill out. Ryu never fought Gill in the official canon)
> Ryu shrugged. "What is it the fans of the local baseball
> team say?
TBS: Something along the lines of, "GOD DAMN IT! MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"
> There's always next year."
> As Janet got out a penlight and checked both our eyes to make
> sure we weren't walking around with any lethal brain hemorrhages
> going,
RACE: Or at least any she'll tell them about.
> we noticed we were no longer alone in the ring; a small figure
> in a sailor outfit had broken away from the crowd and was edging
> toward us,
ARL: It's... [dramatic pause]
ALL: DARK POPEYE!
GAVOK <Dark Popeye>: I'm strong to the finish 'cause I eat THE SOULS OF THE DAMNED! BLEARGH!
> hesitant, with a mixture of concern and appalled shock on
> her face.
MMK: Correction: Gryph just booked himself dating a random Sailor Scout as well.
> As Ryu turned to face her, Sakura looked up at him and said
> incredulously, "You... you -lost-."
GAVOK <Sakura>: You SUCK! That's it, I'm obsessing over Terry Bogard from now on!
TBS: Next week on Terry Bogard Fights Around the World...
> She looked somewhere between
> astounded and crushed, as if she'd just seen a street gang mug Santa
> Claus.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Man, that brings back memories.
> "It happens," Ryu replied, nodding. "Not often, but it
> happens."
RACE <Ryu>: I saw the Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and my mind kept telling me I was fighting Remy.
> "But - "
> Ken prevented us from ever finding out exactly what her
> protest would have entailed.
TBS: Probably Allen Ginsberg.
ARL: Ginsberg?
MMK: Nothing wins an argument quicker than a well-applied Ginsberg quote.
> He hadn't forgotten his promise to take
> on the winner, and now, even if the winner hadn't turned out to be the
> one he thought it would be, his fighter's ego wouldn't let him back
> down.
ARL <Ken>: Good thing I have Jack Carver on speed dial.
> I won't bore you with the details of our fight. Did I win?
ARL <Gryphon>: Did I ever!
RACE: Bitter?
ARL: Yes.
> Hah! The day I can defeat Ryu AND Ken in succession is the day I go
> to M. Bison's island fortress and rifle his sock drawer.
MMK: So he hasn't booked himself as *completely* indestructible.
ARL: Or else he simply realizes that there's a difference between suspension of disbelief and expecting your readership to *hang* their disbelief by the neck 'til dead.
> When I came to, I thought that somebody, maybe Janet, maybe
> Cammy, was mopping at my face with a wet cloth.
S.D. <Cammy>: I found this in Blanka's underwear drawer.
> Then, after a few
> moments of gathering my brains back together, I realized it was
> actually Fury, and, lacking thumbs, he wasn't using a cloth.
RACE: He was using... a loofa sponge!
> "Eyagh," I remarked, pushing him away and sitting slowly and
> carefully up.
MMK: Fury's saliva can heal head wounds!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Nothing rattled around too badly, so I tried standing.
> I must confess I accidentally copped a bit of a feel when Janet rushed
> to prop me up with her shoulder, but it wasn't intentional,
RACE: Right.
> I wasn't
> in a position to enjoy it much,
RACE: Riiiiight.
> and she didn't seem to notice.
S.D. <Janet>: Do that again and I Rodney King your ass.
> Focusing my eyes on the quintet before me, I saw that Ryu,
> Sakura, Cammy and Zoner looked worried, while Ken looked contrite.
> "Well," I grumbled, testing my arm and leg joints to make sure
> everything still bent in the right direction and -only- the right
> direction, "I hope you're satisfied, Ken."
TBS <Ken>: I sure am!
ALL: Us, too!
GAVOK: BEAT HIM AGAIN!
> "Woof," said Fury reproachfully. I scratched his ears.
> Ken hung his head. "I guess I'm kind of a jerk, huh."
GAVOK: I'm saying saint.
> "I guess," I said as severely as I could, but when he peeked
> out at me through his bushy reddish eyebrows, my severity cracked and
> I snickered. "But aren't we all, at times?
TBS <Gryphon>: Well, besides me of course.
> Tell you what, I'll
> forgive you if you'll forgive Ryu."
> Ken looked dubious for a moment, then smiled and turned to
> Ryu. "OK... put 'er there, pal."
> Ryu smiled and took his old friend's hand.
> "All right. Now I'm gonna get some Tylenol in this head of
> mine, and we're gonna go celebrate. Who's with me?"
[ALL mumble excuses.]
TBS: ...gotta water my cat...
GAVOK: ...hat needs cleaning...
RACE: ...little sister in the oven...
> The staff at Ping's Garden have learned to roll with it when I
> turn up on their doorstep with a small horde of hungry people.
ALL: Braaaainsss... braaaainsss...
> And a
> horde we were, rampaging and ravenous: me, Ryu, and Ken, showered,
S.D.: Hey now! This is some self insertion I can get into.
> changed and starting to show some bruises; Janet, now off-duty and out
> of uniform in t-shirt and jeans;
ARL: Not a logo t-shirt because she's just eye candy.
TBS: Vein throbbing.
ARL: Quit it.
> Charlie; Rose; Sakura; Cammy; Zoner,
> happy as could be since he'd been smart enough not to bet on my
> second fight, or maybe just because Meg Bennett had turned up; and
> Meg, sprightly as always.
> Again, I think I'll just leave the details to your
> imagination.
ARL: I don't know, Ben...
[ARL looks at S.D. and RACE.]
ARL: Do you really think that's wise?
RACE: That's a shallow stereotype and you know it.
> We ordered a ton of stuff, passed it around,
MMK <Gryphon>: Got higher than kites.
> swapped
> entrees,
TBS: Ryu and Ken swapped heads.
MMK: Nobody noticed.
> cadged each other's appetizers, and gorged ourselves silly.
> We told embarrassing stories about each other, asked personal
> questions, renewed old friendships and began a few new ones. When the
> meal was done, Rose had to get back to Maine, Charlie to wherever he'd
> come from (he didn't mention it and we didn't ask),
MMK: He said it was too complicated to explain.
[ARL twitches.]
> Meg to Boston and
> Cammy to Scotland;
RACE: Hey, our heroes have booty all over the world.
LOONS: ALL OVER THE WORLD! ALL OVER THE WORLD!
> the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
SD: Infamous? From what exactly?
MMK: The first UF.
SD: Oh. I missed that.
ARL: [still twitching] Lucky you.
> for a raucous evening of video gaming.
ARL <Ryu>: Hey Gryphon, notice how you're not in this game but we are?
RACE <Gryphon>: Shut up...
> Here, we six, as a group, learned many interesting things
> about each other.
> - I would rather play S.T.U.N. Runner than anything else in
> the joint.
TBS: Yep, spliffs suck like that.
> - Zoner is a big fan of Hard Drivin'.
GAVOK: He also likes to play video games.
> - Janet kicks -ass- at Lethal Enforcers. (What a surprise,
> huh?)
MMK: Yeah, her and Lynn Cullen.
> - Sakura is hell on little red sneakers at air hockey.
> - Ken is not very good at Karate Master.
> - Ryu is the galaxy's most inept driver.
> We had a hell of a good time, though. Playoff had a new game,
> the second in Sega's Virtua Fighter series - a unique series, not only
> for its rendered-polygon technology, but also for the fact that the
> characters in the game are based on real fighters, some of whom we
> knew.
ARL: I'd pay good money to see what some characters would say about the games they're in...
RACE: Or what the programmers would say to the characters... <programmer> Well Miss Kasumi, we didn't have much to go on when it came to animating your breasts, but we could try some motion capture technology. Here, let me attach the sensors...
[Rephrase?]
[Nah, it works for me. -z]
> We all had a good laugh at the thought of the real Jacky
> Bryant's hair being all polygonal and spikey like that.
> "Huh," said Ken, watching Ryu and Zoner go at it on VF2.
> "Y'know, we should get together and with some game company and do
> something like this." He grinned.
ARL: ...and the Fourth Wall simultaneously implodes *and* explodes.
TBS: What kind of sound would that make, anyway?
> "Oh great," Janet observed. "Next thing you know every
> league's got its own game. What's that second-string circuit where
> they allow body armor and blunt weapons?"
> Sakura snorted. "The Vipers? Nobody'd touch a game with
> -those- sleazebags in it."
RACE: You know, I'd say something about Hutchins flaunting his opinions,
but he *does* have a point.
> "I suppose not," Ken said, warming to his idea, "but we've got
> charm and class! Only wouldn't it be cool if, instead of this 3D
> polygon stuff, it was a hand-drawn anime-style game, y'know, with 2D
> animated sprites, like a modern version of Karate Master? Yeah,
> that'd kick! I'll have to make some calls."
ARL: Spot the irony, ladies and gentlemen!
GAVOK: I found it!
[A beat.]
GAVOK: Wait, it's just a dried-up Jujubee. Sorry, my bad.
> "I'd pay real money to see you get M. Bison to agree to be in
> a video game," I remarked.
> "Watch me," Ken said with a smirk. "He'll do it; it'll feed
> his ego."
GAVOK <Ken>: And who knows more about ego than me?
MMK <Gryphon>: AHEM!
> "Why hand-drawn?" Janet wondered.
> Ken shrugged. "Looks cool. Cooler than polygons, anyway.
S.D.: Uh-oh, Cracker Jack and Sharon aren't going to like *that*...
> If
> you get the right artists."
> "If you're going to make it sprite-based," Ryu wondered,
> pausing for a moment to take Zoner for a ride on Splash Mountain, "why
> not use digitized photos of the fighters?"
> Ken, Sakura, Zoner, Janet and I all winced together and said
> in unison, "Eew!"
GAVOK: Baraka owns each and every one of you!
RACE: Hey!
GAVOK: I stand by my comment.
> "OK, maybe not," Ryu said, shrugging and returning his full
> concentration to the game.
S.D [Ryu]: Curse you game cabinet... you will blink yet. YOU WILL BLINK YET!
MMK: Nah, that's Janet Neilson.
TBS: Then she's that chick from Virtua Cop.
GAVOK: If you say so.
ARL: What?
MMK: Snot's commands dictate reality.
TBS: Yeah, I said so, so it's true.
Wanderer's right, and that's the correct way the riff should go.
> the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
SD: Infamous? From what exactly?
MMK: The first UF.
SD: Oh. I missed that.
ARL: [still twitching] Lucky you.
***
Remember, I/my Avatar know/s *way* too much Eyrie trivia for my/her own good. She didn't riff UF1 (neither did MMK/Arly, for that matter), but she still knows about it. So, let's change this around a bit...
***
> the rest of us, after goodbyes and promises to keep
> in touch and a fresh exchange of phone numbers and email addresses,
> adjourned to Playoff Entertainment (the infamous "Ten-Minute Walk")
S.D.: Infamous? From what exactly?
MMK: The first UF.
S.D.: Oh. [beat] Was Ten-Minute Walk before or after we learned anyone can buy Cyclones in Worchester?
MMK: Before. I think.
S.D.: So it was how long before we found out that Minmei's singing is a lethal weapon to extreme conservatives and gweeps alike?
MMK: A while.
S.D.: And this was after we found out that you can get any ol' anibabe you want, complete with Aura-of-Smooth edited personality, full memory of whichever version you want, access to all weapons even though she's naked, and more, just by downloading a single .jpg and hitting the wrong buttons on a program?
MMK: Yeah.
S.D.: But *before* we found out that part of a college building can turn into a fully-functional spaceship, complete with oxygen facilities, and that incidentally everyone in the Wedge at the time was genetically engineered.
MMK: Exactly.
[OTHERS stare at S.D.]
S.D.: [shrugs] I got bored awhile back. [beat] So where did Ten-Minute Walk come into all this again?
MMK: I think it was a date.
S.D.: Oh, right.
***
Feel free to edit MMK's dialogue, I'm really only doing SDR's. And I don't remember where Ten-Minute Walk showed up either. Probably a good thing. ^^;
<< Remember, I/my Avatar know/s *way* too much Eyrie trivia for my/her own good. She didn't riff UF1 (neither did MMK/Arly, for that matter), but she still knows about it. >>
Sorry. Don't know if I ever even knew that, but sorry just the same.
<< So, let's change this around a bit... >>
[takes a Laurence Sword to it]
<< Feel free to edit MMK's dialogue, I'm really only doing SDR's. >>
I can't see anything wrong with his dialogue (though the real Knight might wish to vet it). Only thing I'd do is find a place to add back Arly's twitching.
<< And I don't remember where Ten-Minute Walk showed up either. Probably a good thing. ^^; >>
<< Remember, I/my Avatar know/s *way* too much Eyrie trivia for my/her own good. She didn't riff UF1 (neither did MMK/Arly, for that matter), but she still knows about it. >>
> Sorry. Don't know if I ever even knew that, but sorry just the same.
I think it got mentioned when I dibsed HL, but I don't know if it was anywhere else.
<< So, let's change this around a bit... >>
> [takes a Laurence Sword to it]
As long as it's not Reorg. ^^
<< Feel free to edit MMK's dialogue, I'm really only doing SDR's. >>
> I can't see anything wrong with his dialogue (though the real Knight might wish to vet it).
I was just thinking that it was too basic - Knight might be saying more, or citing other events in UF1.
> Only thing I'd do is find a place to add back Arly's twitching.
Have Arly twitch while everyone else stares at me.
<< And I don't remember where Ten-Minute Walk showed up either. Probably a good thing. ^^; >>
...you really *do* know too much about the Eyrieverse, what with the whole referencing SotS, seeing DJ Croft references in normal uber-kid lines, et cetera. But hey, at least you could make money off of it...
Howzabout this for a plot: You've got this "gift" where you can read a 'fic, or see a movie, or *whatever*, and can't help but see the parts inspired by Eyrie Productions.
And really, the DJ Croft thing was about half because 'smarmy uberkid', 'EVA joke' and 'Rei Ayanami' usually *do* mean it's a DJ Croft ref, since the Asuka thing doesn't become clear until...what, NXE 2:#? 3:#? - and the MSTing of NXE 1:# has been making a lot of jokes about DJ/Rei. But.
Meg's origin story comes from an old cartoon, "Bionic Six." Do not mistake it for actual originality.
========
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
>
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
>
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness. The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own; he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his. Not too long ago, I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time. Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it. I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance, and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects, and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position. The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right, but that turned out not to be necessary.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing. The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward. Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
> Hmm. It never did -that- before. People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought! This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise. Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow) on one of the ninja
> (does it matter which?) and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
>
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter. She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon. He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in -- you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?" I was hoping she'd choose Cliff
> Notes; I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate. M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times. Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait. Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on. Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone. I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me. I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it. No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot, and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service. You could call me a
> freelance spy."
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine. I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella. I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind. Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates. Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that. It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity. But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon. "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him. Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center." I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero? Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence. He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside; I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked. We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us. That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham. It all came flooding back. In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward? I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist... Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?" She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired. Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity." She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions. The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous. Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization. "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that. I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns. What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel, and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside, the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies, but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence. I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked. She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him? If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like. Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon, but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her. Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T. I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street, on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him. Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true, but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
>
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared. "Joyce Chen's."
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so. I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle. To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine: "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull. Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly. I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses), that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg, which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together. If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent? What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
>
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment. (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1. Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?' Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell. We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me. I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her. Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... " I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... " Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... " Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea. That was not my intention.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...) I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind? Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something. I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats, they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves. It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts. I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-. Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate. (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's, so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
>
Meg's origin story comes from an old cartoon, "Bionic Six." Do not mistake it for actual originality.
I was wondering about that... -RoP
========
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
>
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
???: I tried loading a warrior on my computer, but it turned out that it was too old, and I ended up having to download some files to support it.
ARL: Oh really? What kind of files?
???: Warrior's legacy drivers.
[ALL groan.]
[Botched computer jokes? Check...]
>
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
>
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
>
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
>
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
>
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness. The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own; he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his. Not too long ago, I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time. Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it.
TBS: Try it anyway. If you screw up, hey, you can always send it to
Worcester's Funniest Home Videos.
> I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance, and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
MMK <singing>: Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die, burning in my
brain, I can feel the flames...
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects, and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position. The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right, but that turned out not to be necessary.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing. The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward. Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
> Hmm. It never did -that- before. People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought!
ARL: So it's possible to control the properties of one's INCREDIBUL CHEE
POWURZ simply through force of will...
TBS: So theoretically, one could have a cheese danish chi blast?
ARL: Well, if you want to go by Ben's logic, then technically, yes.
TBS: I see.
[TBS pulls out a notebook, writes something down, then resumes watching the
'fic.]
This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise. Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow) on one of the ninja
> (does it matter which?)
S.D.: Yes, oh heavens YES! How will I live my life without knowing on which
ninja Ben left his card??
> and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
GAVOK: Some ninja... they didn't even wail.
>
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter. She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon. He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in -- you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?" I was hoping she'd choose Cliff
> Notes;
ARL: So were we.
> I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate. M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times. Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait. Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on.
ARL: No kidding.
> Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone.
RACE: Not talking about Ben... is that allowed?
> I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me. I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it. No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot,
MMK <MegaZone>: Power Wave...
TBS <MZ>: Rising Tackle...
RACE <MZ>: Power Geyser...
GAVOK <MZ>: Ridiculously flamboyant superhero with the power to animate
cheese...
> and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service. You could call me a
> freelance spy."
RACE: So if he was named Sluggy, would that make him Sluggy Fr-
ARL: No.
[A pause.]
ARL: Well... no.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
S.D.: MegaZone was later found dead, his spine pulverized. Tragically, nobody
mentioned to him the fact that the laughter was doing the little dance on
Maniac until it was too late.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella. I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
ARL: Okay, why did I just get the mental image of MegaZone rampaging
through MegaTokyo?
S.D.: Funny you should mention Zoner in MegaTokyo...
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind. Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates. Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that. It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity. But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon. "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him.
S.D.: Oh, so you're "just friends?" Tch, guys are always "just friends."
You'd feel better about it if you just came out and told each other the
truth...
> Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center." I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero? Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
MMK: Page Break strikes again!
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence. He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside; I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked. We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us. That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham.
RACE: Biff!
GAVOK: Socko!
TBS: Fnord!
> It all came flooding back. In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward?
TBS: R-o-l-a-i-d-s.
S.D. <darkly>: However I darn well please.
> I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist... Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?" She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired.
ARL: They reversed the polarity, didn't they?
RACE: They *always* reverse the polarity!
MMK <writing on a pad of paper>: Note to self: Change superweapon to AC power.
> Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity." She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions. The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
ARL <MegaZone>: They're as stale as week-old bread.
[A beat.]
ARL <MZ>: *Damn* it...
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous. Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization. "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that.
TBS: How hard is it to find yourself? I mean, no matter where you go,
there you are!
GAVOK: That's why whenever I need to hide from myself I always head to
Starbucks. I'd *never* think of finding me there.
> I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns. What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel, and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
RACE: Yeah, that's the nice part about women, they're-
S.D.: You're not speaking from experience, are you Race?
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside, the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies, but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
TBS: Additional writing by Ace Sanchez.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence.
ARL: It was easy-listening silence, the kind of silence you could hear all
day...
> I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked. She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him?
S.D.: I played Max Payne. Does that count?
> If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like.
MMK <singing>: You don't know what it's like to be me... you don't
know what it's like to go between...
>Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon, but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her. Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T. I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street, on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him.
S.D.: Jealous, Gryph?
> Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true, but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
>
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared.
GAVOK <Gryphon, booming voice>: ...FOR THE SOULS OF THE LIVING!
> "Joyce Chen's."
GAVOK: Eh, good enough.
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
RACE: Well, that explains why she's been hanging out with Gryph and Zoner...
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so. I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle. To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine: "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
ARL: That probably stems from your complete inability to be concise in any
way, shape or form.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull. Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly.
MMK: Three words, man: Gee. Tee. Ai.
ARL: Those are letters.
MMK: What, so letters can't be words all of a sudden? You bigot.
> I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses),
GAVOK: Kinda makes you wonder how many of them were jobbers, huh?
> that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg, which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together.
S.D.: "Good friends." Riiiiiiiight...
RACE: You're making an awful lot of yaoi comments, considering that Gryph's five-seven and three-hundred... unless you're into that-
S.D.: Finish that sentence and DIE.
> If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent? What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
>
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment.
MMK: Which would be Zoner Look #19, the "You don't have the whole story,
but I can't talk at the moment" look.
> (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1. Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?'
RACE: Maybe they've got Auras of Exposition.
> Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell. We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me. I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her. Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... " I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... " Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... " Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea. That was not my intention.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Yeah, I'm-
MMK <Gryphon>: BUSTA WORLFF!!
[MMK punches GAVOK in the arm, who oversells and flies across the theater. A long silence follows, with the others staring at at him.]
MMK: What?
ARL: ...did you just do something *besides* an "it doesn't matter" in response to a question?
MMK: Well, yeah.
TBS: The MMK I know would *never* do that...
MMK: Yeah, well, I'm trying to branch out, and-
[TBS pulls out a towel and points it threateningly at MMK.]
TBS: Who are you, and what have you done with the MMK??
[MMK pulls a mask off of his face, revealing GAVOK. Meanwhile, THE OTHER
GAVOK gets up and walks back to his seat. TBS looks at GAVOK, then at
THE OTHER GAVOK, and blinks.]
TBS: ...
S.D.: Ohhh-kay...
RACE: ...what the hell?
ARL: Dear sweet merciful crap, there's *two* of them.
[THE OTHER GAVOK grins and pulls a mask off of his face, revealing MMK. He
^_^s]
MMK: Gotcha.
[I am really, truly sorry for this... -RoP]
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...) I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
TBS: "When Gryphons Attack," coming up next on FOX!
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind? Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something. I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
RACE <Gryphon>: You're not saying that just because we're writing you
that way, are you?
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
[ALL blink and look around.]
RACE: Do the acoustics in this place seem a little off to you?
ARL: There's a little bit of an echo, if that's what you mean...
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats, they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves. It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts.
RACE: They've got some nice theme songs, though.
> I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-. Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate. (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
MMK: ...but it's a lot more fun when you're with strong-willed ones!
GAVOK: Like that time when were at Double M's, and we broke half a dozen tables and nearly every chair in the place arguing over what pizza toppings we wanted?
MMK: Greatest. Lunch. *Ever.*
GAVOK: IN-DEED.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's, so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
>
Starting it off (though I bet someone will post at the exact same time)
by Gavok
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
MMK: Final Fight's Guy getting hit by a football!
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
>
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
GAVOK: I'm not Rapprochement.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
RACE: The Coreys of the fanfiction world.
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
S.D.: Is it a name or directions?
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
GAVOK: Old McDonald had a fic. E-I-E-I-O. And in this fic he shot some guys.
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness. The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own; he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his. Not too long ago, I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time. Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it. I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance, and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
TBS: Pregnant women and people with heart conditions should not ride the lightning.
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects, and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position. The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right, but that turned out not to be necessary.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing. The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward. Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
> Hmm.
MMK (rubbing his chin): Hmmm... Hmmm! HMMMM!
GAVOK: Blah. (Gavok's head falls off)
> It never did -that- before. People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought! This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
RACE <Gryphon>: Did I forget to mention that they were wearing giant sombreros and sitting against a wall?
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise. Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow) on one of the ninja
> (does it matter which?) and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
>
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter. She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon.
MMK: Two vikings though, watch out.
> He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in -- you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?" I was hoping she'd choose Cliff
> Notes; I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate. M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times. Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait. Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on. Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone. I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
MMK <Zoner>: Actually, I'm a Street Fighter Alpha.
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me. I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it. No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot, and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service. You could call me a
> freelance spy."
ARL <Zoner>: But the kids in highschool called me Stinky.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
RACE: YOU MAKE THE CALL!
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
GAVOK: The kind of laughter that lets you eat the fries off his plate.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella. I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind. Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates. Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that.
RACE <Zoner>: Well I did, but that was a Menuto concert and had nothing to do with my work.
> It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity. But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon. "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him. Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center." I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero? Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
TBS: Wind.
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence. He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside; I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked.
ARL <Meg>: Mother asked us if we were bad enough dudes to save our father.
> We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us.
S.D. <Meg>: He said he could make us better, stronger--
RACE <Zoner>: Okay, I get it!
> That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham. It all came flooding back.
GAVOK <Zoner>: And from then on out I couldn't get that "Wake me up before you Go-Go" song out of my head.
> In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward? I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist... Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?"
MMK <Harry>: Samsonite!
GAVOK <Lloyd>: See, I knew it started with an S.
> She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired. Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity." She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions.
ARL: Bob Dylan can't find his keys! We need your help!
> The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous. Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization. "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that. I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
TBS: M-C-O
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns. What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel, and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside, the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies,
GAVOK: Turn that music down! We're trying to sleep down here!
> but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
RACE <passenger>: Why are those two dressed as wookies?
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence. I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked. She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him? If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like. Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon, but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her. Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
MMK <Zoner>: We'll get Terry Bogard to ask him. That's always fun!
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T. I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street, on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him. Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true, but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
>
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared.
GAVOK <Mr. Grimm>: ...for human flesh.
> "Joyce Chen's."
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
RACE <Gryphon>: Phew! That's a relief then. Zoner here is hung like a nat and...
TBS <Zoner>: Dude!
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so. I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
GAVOK <singing with mouth closed>: Come on in, come to the place where fun never ends! Come on in, it's time to party with Garfield and Friends! Garfield and Friends!
(Everyone stares)
GAVOK: What?
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle. To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine: "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull. Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly. I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses),
MMK <Zoner>: And tell them who the losses were against.
TBS <Gryphon>: I'd rather not.
MMK <Zoner>: Just tell 'em. It's cute!
TBS <Gryphon>: (mutters something)
MMK <Zoner>: What was that?
TBS <Gryphon>: I SAID I LOST TO SHAQUILLE O'NEIL AND BRIAN BATTLER, NOW SHUT UP!
> that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg, which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together.
ARL: These waffles are stuck together.
S.D.: That's what good waffles do!
> If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent? What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
>
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment. (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1. Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?' Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell.
MMK: Unless you talk to pants.
> We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
GAVOK <Kin Korn Karn>: It does not have! MONGOLIAN CHOP!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me. I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her. Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... " I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... " Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... " Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea.
RACE: Crossing over to other cheesy 80s cartoons.
> That was not my intention.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
ALL: BUSTA WOLF!!
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...) I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind? Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something. I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats, they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves.
TBS <Zoner>: HYPER VIPER BEAM!
> It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts. I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-. Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate. (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's, so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
RACE <Gryphon>: And then she'd see my private bits, if you get my drift.
Meg's origin story comes from an old cartoon, "Bionic Six." Do not mistake it for actual originality.
I was wondering about that... -RoP
========
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
MMK: Final Fight's Guy getting hit by a football!
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
???: I tried loading a warrior on my computer, but it turned out that it was too old, and I ended up having to download some files to support it.
ARL: Oh really? What kind of files?
???: Warrior's legacy drivers.
[ALL groan.]
[Botched computer jokes? Check...]
>
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
GAVOK: I'm not Rapprochement.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
RACE: The Coreys of the fanfiction world.
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
S.D.: Is it a name or directions?
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
GAVOK: Old McDonald had a fic. E-I-E-I-O. And in this fic he shot some guys.
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness. The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own; he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his. Not too long ago, I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time. Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it.
TBS: Try it anyway. If you screw up, hey, you can always send it to
Worcester's Funniest Home Videos.
> I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance, and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
TBS: Pregnant women and people with heart conditions should not ride the lightning.
MMK <singing>: Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die, burning in my
brain, I can feel the flames...
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects, and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position. The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right, but that turned out not to be necessary.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing. The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward. Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
> Hmm.
MMK (rubbing his chin): Hmmm... Hmmm! HMMMM!
GAVOK: Blah. (Gavok's head falls off)
> It never did -that- before. People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought!
ARL: So it's possible to control the properties of one's INCREDIBUL CHEE
POWURZ simply through force of will...
TBS: So theoretically, one could have a cheese danish chi blast?
ARL: Well, if you want to go by Ben's logic, then technically, yes.
TBS: I see.
[TBS pulls out a notebook, writes something down, then resumes watching the
'fic.]
This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
RACE <Gryphon>: Did I forget to mention that they were wearing giant sombreros and sitting against a wall?
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise. Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow) on one of the ninja
> (does it matter which?)
S.D.: Yes, oh heavens YES! How will I live my life without knowing on which
ninja Ben left his card??
> and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
GAVOK: Some ninja... they didn't even wail.
>
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter. She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon.
MMK: Two vikings though, watch out.
> He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in -- you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?" I was hoping she'd choose Cliff
> Notes;
ARL: So were we.
> I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate. M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times. Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait. Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on.
ARL: No kidding.
> Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone.
RACE: Not talking about Ben... is that allowed?
> I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
MMK <Zoner>: Actually, I'm a Street Fighter Alpha.
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me. I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it. No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot,
MMK <MegaZone>: Power Wave...
TBS <MZ>: Rising Tackle...
RACE <MZ>: Power Geyser...
GAVOK <MZ>: Ridiculously flamboyant superhero with the power to animate
cheese...
> and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service. You could call me a
> freelance spy."
ARL <Zoner>: But the kids in highschool called me Stinky.
RACE: So if he was named Sluggy, would that make him Sluggy Fr-
ARL: No.
[A pause.]
ARL: Well... no.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
RACE: YOU MAKE THE CALL!
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that
GAVOK: --lets you eat the fries off his plate.
> reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
S.D.: MegaZone was later found dead, his spine pulverized. Tragically, nobody
mentioned to him the fact that the laughter was doing the little dance on
Maniac until it was too late.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella. I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
ARL: Okay, why did I just get the mental image of MegaZone rampaging
through MegaTokyo?
S.D.: Funny you should mention Zoner in MegaTokyo...
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind. Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates. Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that.
RACE <Zoner>: Well I did, but that was a Menuto concert and had nothing to do with my work.
> It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity. But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon. "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him.
S.D.: Oh, so you're "just friends?" Tch, guys are always "just friends."
You'd feel better about it if you just came out and told each other the
truth...
> Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center." I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero? Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
TBS: Wind.
MMK: Page Break strikes again!
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence. He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside; I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked.
ARL <Meg>: Mother asked us if we were bad enough dudes to save our father.
> We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us.
S.D. <Meg>: He said he could make us better, stronger--
RACE <Zoner>: Okay, I get it!
> That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham.
RACE: Biff!
GAVOK: Socko!
TBS: Fnord!
> It all came flooding back.
GAVOK <Zoner>: And from then on out I couldn't get that "Wake me up before you Go-Go" song out of my head.
> In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward?
TBS: R-o-l-a-i-d-s.
S.D. <darkly>: However I darn well please.
> I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist... Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?"
MMK <Harry>: Samsonite!
GAVOK <Lloyd>: See, I knew it started with an S.
> She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired.
ARL: They reversed the polarity, didn't they?
RACE: They *always* reverse the polarity!
MMK <writing on a pad of paper>: Note to self: Change superweapon to AC power.
> Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity." She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions.
ARL: Bob Dylan can't find his keys! We need your help!
> The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
ARL <MegaZone>: They're as stale as week-old bread.
[A beat.]
ARL <MZ>: *Damn* it...
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous. Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization. "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that.
TBS: How hard is it to find yourself? I mean, no matter where you go,
there you are!
GAVOK: That's why whenever I need to hide from myself I always head to
Starbucks. I'd *never* think of finding me there.
> I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
GAVOK: [makes two car-horn honking noises]
TBS: M-C-O
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns. What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel, and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
RACE: Yeah, that's the nice part about women, they're-
S.D.: You're not speaking from experience, are you Race?
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside, the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies,
GAVOK: Turn that music down! We're trying to sleep down here!
> but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
TBS: Additional writing by Ace Sanchez.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
RACE <passenger>: Why are those two dressed as wookies?
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence.
ARL: It was easy-listening silence, the kind of silence you could hear all
day...
> I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked. She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him?
S.D.: I played Max Payne. Does that count?
> If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like.
MMK <singing>: You don't know what it's like to be me... you don't
know what it's like to go between...
>Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon, but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her. Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
MMK <Zoner>: We'll get Terry Bogard to ask him. That's always fun!
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T. I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street, on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him.
S.D.: Jealous, Gryph?
> Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true, but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
>
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared.
MMK <Mr. Grimm>: ...for human flesh.
GAVOK <Gryphon, booming voice>: ...FOR THE SOULS OF THE LIVING!
> "Joyce Chen's."
GAVOK: Eh, good enough.
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
ARL: Well, that explains why she's been hanging out with Gryph and Zoner...
RACE <Gryphon>: Phew! That's a relief then. Zoner here is hung like a nat and...
TBS <Zoner>: Dude!
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so. I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
GAVOK <singing with mouth closed>: Come on in, come to the place where fun never ends! Come on in, it's time to party with Garfield and Friends! Garfield and Friends!
(Everyone stares)
GAVOK: What?
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle. To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine: "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
ARL: That probably stems from your complete inability to be concise in any
way, shape or form.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull. Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly.
MMK: Three words, man: Gee. Tee. Ai.
ARL: Those are letters.
MMK: What, so letters can't be words all of a sudden? You bigot.
> I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses),
GAVOK: Kinda makes you wonder how many of them were jobbers, huh?
MMK <Zoner>: And tell them who the losses were against.
TBS <Gryphon>: I'd rather not.
MMK <Zoner>: Just tell 'em. It's cute!
TBS <Gryphon>: (mutters something)
MMK <Zoner>: What was that?
TBS <Gryphon>: I SAID I LOST TO SHAQUILLE O'NEIL AND BRIAN BATTLER, NOW SHUT UP!
> that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg, which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together.
ARL: These waffles are stuck together.
MMK: That's what good waffles do!
S.D.: "Good friends." Riiiiiiiight...
RACE: You're making an awful lot of yaoi comments, considering that Gryph's five-seven and three-hundred... unless you're into that-
S.D.: Finish that sentence and DIE.
> If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent? What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
>
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment.
MMK: Which would be Zoner Look #19, the "You don't have the whole story,
but I can't talk at the moment" look.
> (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1. Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?'
RACE: Maybe they've got Auras of Exposition.
> Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell.
MMK: Unless you talk to pants.
> We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
GAVOK <Kin Korn Karn>: It does not have! MONGOLIAN CHOP!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me. I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her. Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... " I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... " Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... " Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea.
RACE: Crossing over to other cheesy 80s cartoons.
> That was not my intention.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Yeah, I'm-
MMK <Gryphon>: BUSTA WORLFF!!
[MMK punches GAVOK in the arm, who oversells and flies across the theater. A long silence follows, with the others staring at at him.]
MMK: What?
ARL: ...did you just do something *besides* an "it doesn't matter" in response to a question?
MMK: Well, yeah.
TBS: The MMK I know would *never* do that...
MMK: Yeah, well, I'm trying to branch out, and-
[TBS pulls out a towel and points it threateningly at MMK.]
TBS: Who are you, and what have you done with the MMK??
[MMK pulls a mask off of his face, revealing GAVOK. Meanwhile, THE OTHER
GAVOK gets up and walks back to his seat. TBS looks at GAVOK, then at
THE OTHER GAVOK, and blinks.]
TBS: ...
S.D.: Ohhh-kay...
RACE: ...what the hell?
ARL: Dear sweet merciful crap, there's *two* of them.
[THE OTHER GAVOK grins and pulls a mask off of his face, revealing MMK. He
^_^s]
MMK: Gotcha.
[I am really, truly sorry for this... -RoP]
[I'm cool with it. Sorry for cutting out the mass "Buster Wolf!" cry, but I liked this Loon moment better. -z]
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...) I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
TBS: "When Gryphons Attack," coming up next on FOX!
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind? Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something. I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
RACE <Gryphon>: You're not saying that just because we're writing you
that way, are you?
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
[ALL blink and look around.]
RACE: Do the acoustics in this place seem a little off to you?
ARL: There's a little bit of an echo, if that's what you mean...
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats, they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves.
TBS <Zoner>: HYPER VIPER BEAM!
> It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts.
RACE: They've got some nice theme songs, though.
> I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-. Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate. (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
MMK: ...but it's a lot more fun when you're with strong-willed ones!
GAVOK: Like that time when were at Double M's, and we broke half a dozen tables and nearly every chair in the place arguing over what pizza toppings we wanted?
MMK: Greatest. Lunch. *Ever.*
GAVOK: IN-DEED.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's, so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
RACE <Gryphon>: And then she'd see my private bits, if you get my drift.
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
>
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
???: I tried loading a warrior on my computer, but it turned out that it was too old, and I ended up having to download some files to support it.
ARL: Oh really? What kind of files?
???: Warrior's legacy drivers.
[ALL groan.]
[Botched computer jokes? Check...]
>
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
GAVOK: I'm not Rapprochement.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
RACE: The Coreys of the fanfiction world.
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
S.D.: Is it a name or directions?
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
GAVOK: Old McDonald had a fic. E-I-E-I-O. And in this fic he shot some guys.
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness. The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own;
> he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his. Not too long ago, I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time. Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it.
TBS: Try it anyway. If you screw up, hey, you can always send it to
Worcester's Funniest Home Videos.
> I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
MMK: [sings] Three times a lady...
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance, and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
TBS: Pregnant women and people with heart conditions should not ride the lightning.
MMK <singing>: Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die, burning in my
brain, I can feel the flames...
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects, and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position. The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right, but that turned out not to be necessary.
ARL <other Spainard>: Here. Let me punch myself out for you.
S.D. <Gryphon>: How kind.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing. The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward. Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
> Hmm.
MMK (rubbing his chin): Hmmm... Hmmm! HMMMM!
GAVOK: Blah. (Gavok's head falls off)
> It never did -that- before. People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Funny. Psycho Lightning doesn't conduct metal at our house...
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought!
ARL: So it's possible to control the properties of one's INCREDIBUL CHEE
POWURZ simply through force of will...
TBS: So theoretically, one could have a cheese danish chi blast?
ARL: Well, if you want to go by Ben's logic, then technically, yes.
TBS: I see.
[TBS pulls out a notebook, writes something down, then resumes watching the
'fic.]
> This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
RACE <Gryphon>: Did I forget to mention that they were wearing giant sombreros and sitting against a wall?
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise.
RACE: Oh, leather jacket! You wacky funster!
> Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow) on one of the ninja
> (does it matter which?)
S.D.: Yes, oh heavens YES! How will I live my life without knowing on which
ninja Ben left his card??
> and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
GAVOK: Some ninja... they didn't even wail.
>
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter. She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon.
MMK: Two vikings though, watch out.
> He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in -- you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?" I was hoping she'd choose Cliff
> Notes;
ARL: So were we.
> I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
[ALL throw Bingo cards up in the air and grumble in dissatisfaction.]
RACE: I was [holds up his pointer finger] ONE number away!
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate. M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times.
ARL: Gryphon tried to kill his master a few times?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Hey. Wake up, asshole.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: [sleepily] Whaaaat?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: What?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel!
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Well... it was in there! And if it's in there, then it's fair game.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Then maybe this is fair game! HOO-WAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You like that? That's right. That's a karate chop! HEE-YAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Jeez!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: KEE-AI!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
> Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait. Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
S.D. <Meg>: Okay, then. Like the Shinobi-lleros.
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on.
ARL: No kidding.
> Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone.
RACE: Not talking about Ben... is that allowed?
> I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
MMK <Zoner>: Actually, I'm a Street Fighter Alpha.
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me. I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it. No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot,
MMK <MegaZone>: Power Wave...
TBS <MZ>: Rising Tackle...
RACE <MZ>: Power Geyser...
GAVOK <MZ>: Ridiculously flamboyant superhero with the power to animate
cheese...
> and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service. You could call me a
> freelance spy."
ARL <Zoner>: But the kids in highschool called me Stinky.
RACE: So if he was named Sluggy, would that make him Sluggy Fr-
ARL: No.
[A pause.]
ARL: Well... no.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
RACE: YOU MAKE THE CALL!
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that
GAVOK: --lets you eat the fries off his plate.
> reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
S.D.: MegaZone was later found dead, his spine pulverized. Tragically, nobody
mentioned to him the fact that the laughter was doing the little dance on
Maniac until it was too late.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella.
RACE <Squidward>: And if there's anything else you want, PLEASE hesitate to ask!
> I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
ARL: Okay, why did I just get the mental image of MegaZone rampaging
through MegaTokyo?
S.D.: Funny you should mention Zoner in MegaTokyo...
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind.
MMK <MegaZone>: Remember the Bay of Pigs? ME, baby!
> Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates. Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that.
RACE <Zoner>: Well I did, but that was a Menudo concert and had nothing to do with my work.
> It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. No sir ree.
> But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon. "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
[* ? *]
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him.
S.D.: Oh, so you're "just friends?" Tch, guys are always "just friends."
You'd feel better about it if you just came out and told each other the
truth...
> Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center."
TBS <MegaZone>: I'm like a stale Cadbury egg!
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm like an overcooked biscuit!
ARL <MegaZone>: I'm like a cockroach!
S.D. <MegaZone>: I'm like a jar of Play-Doh!
> I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero? Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
TBS: Wind.
MMK: Page Break strikes again!
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence. He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside;
MMK <Freemedicalcare>: Ooh! I just had a thought. [pause] Lost it. Slippery little buggers.
> I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked.
ARL <Meg>: Mother asked us if we were bad enough dudes to save our father.
> We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us.
S.D. <Meg>: He said he could make us better, stronger--
RACE <Zoner>: Okay, I get it!
> That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham.
RACE: Biff!
GAVOK: Socko!
TBS: Fnord!
> It all came flooding back.
GAVOK <Zoner>: And from then on out I couldn't get that "Wake me up before you Go-Go" song out of my head.
> In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward?
TBS: R-o-l-a-i-d-s.
S.D. <darkly>: However I darn well please.
> I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
RACE <MegaZone>: Hey! I have a poster of you on my bedroom wall back in New York! In fact, it's probably still the-... oh, crap.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist... Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?"
MMK <Harry>: Samsonite!
GAVOK <Lloyd>: See, I knew it started with an S.
> She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
TBS: Luckily for them, the city has an innie.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
[* This looks like as good a spot as any to introduce the Racial Slurs Drinking Game. *]
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired.
ARL: They reversed the polarity, didn't they?
RACE: They *always* reverse the polarity!
MMK <writing on a pad of paper>: Note to self: Change superweapon to AC power.
> Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity." She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
[MMK, GAVOK and S.D. open their mouths at the same time. They stop and look at each other.]
MMK: Ladies first.
S.D.: Darn. I forgot what I was going to say.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions.
ARL: Bob Dylan can't find his keys! We need your help!
> The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
ARL <MegaZone>: They're as stale as week-old bread.
[A beat.]
ARL <MZ>: *Damn* it...
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous.
GAVOK: Oh. So they got hard outer shells like insects.
MMK: No. That's "exoskeletons."
GAVOK: Oh. Then they died off and would become fossil fuels in a million years time.
MMK: No. That's "extinct."
GAVOK: So they stopped focusing on themselves and busied themselves with others?
MMK: No. That's "extrovert."
GAVOK: Then what's "extraneous?"
MMK: It means that they had to take their liquids through a needle.
GAVOK: Oh.
[ARL grinds his teeth audibly.]
> Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization.
RACE <MegaZone>: I can't wait to tell Michael Moore about THIS one.
> "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that.
TBS: How hard is it to find yourself? I mean, no matter where you go,
there you are!
GAVOK: That's why whenever I need to hide from myself I always head to
Starbucks. I'd *never* think of finding me there.
> I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
GAVOK: [makes two car-horn honking noises]
TBS: M-C-O
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. Because I don't enjoy killing. Honest.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns. What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel,
ARL: You're moving too fast. Cold steel isn't until the THIRD date.
> and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
RACE: Yeah, that's the nice part about women, they're-
S.D.: You're not speaking from experience, are you Race?
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside,
ALL <MegaZone>: A soft, creamy center.
> the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies,
GAVOK: Turn that music down! We're trying to sleep down here!
> but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
TBS: Additional writing by Ace Sanchez.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
MMK <Janeane Garofalo>: But lines are infinite! This is a line segment! Can't I at least get a RAY of cocaine?
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
RACE <passenger>: Why are those two dressed as wookies?
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
[* Insert "bees" riff here. *]
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence.
ARL: It was easy-listening silence, the kind of silence you could hear all
day...
> I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked.
TBS: She must have Windows installed on her.
RACE <MegaZone>: It was time to hit her Ctrl-Alt-Delete, if you know what I mean...
> She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
GAVOK: I have!
ARL: You bloody well have not!
GAVOK: Have too! For one, brief, shining moment, I knew! I knew where in the world Carmen Sandiego was!
[ARL rubs his head and groans.]
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him?
S.D.: I played Max Payne. Does that count?
> If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like.
MMK <singing>: You don't know what it's like to be me... you don't
know what it's like to go between...
> Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon, but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy killing for her. [pause] Well... maybe a little...
> Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: We'll get Terry Bogard to ask him. That's always fun!
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T. I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street, on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
RACE <MegaZone>: Oh, Sam I Am, you silly fool. Don't you realize that he doesn't want your green foodstuffs?
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him.
S.D.: Jealous, Gryph?
> Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true, but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
RACE <MegaZone>: Wait. If the Lorax speaks for the trees, shouldn't he have asked for plant food and water as well?
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared.
MMK <Mr. Grimm>: ...for human flesh.
GAVOK <Gryphon, booming voice>: ...FOR THE SOULS OF THE LIVING!
ARL: Ben "Gryphon" Hutchins IS... SINISTAR!
> "Joyce Chen's."
GAVOK: Eh, good enough.
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
ARL: Well, that explains why she's been hanging out with Gryph and Zoner...
RACE <Gryphon>: Phew! That's a relief then. Zoner here is hung like a nat and...
TBS <Zoner>: Dude!
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so. I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
GAVOK <singing with mouth closed>: Come on in, come to the place where fun never ends! Come on in, it's time to party with Garfield and Friends! Garfield and Friends!
(Everyone stares)
GAVOK: What?
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle.
ALL <Ninjas>: We are hedge. Move along.
> To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine:
S.D. <Maitre'd>: For the love of GOD, will you PLEASE put some PANTS on?
> "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
ARL: That probably stems from your complete inability to be concise in any
way, shape or form.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull. Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly.
MMK: Three words, man: Gee. Tee. Ai.
ARL: Those are letters.
MMK: What, so letters can't be words all of a sudden? You bigot.
> I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses),
GAVOK: Kinda makes you wonder how many of them were jobbers, huh?
MMK <Zoner>: And tell them who the losses were against.
TBS <Gryphon>: I'd rather not.
MMK <Zoner>: Just tell 'em. It's cute!
TBS <Gryphon>: (mutters something)
MMK <Zoner>: What was that?
TBS <Gryphon>: I SAID I LOST TO SHAQUILLE O'NEIL AND BRIAN BATTLER, NOW SHUT UP!
> that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg,
ARL: Oh, God.
RACE: What?
ARL: I just had the image of Gryphon flying around on a golden chocobo.
> which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together.
ARL: These waffles are stuck together.
MMK: That's what good waffles do!
S.D.: "Good friends." Riiiiiiiight...
RACE: You're making an awful lot of yaoi comments, considering that Gryph's five-seven and three-hundred... unless you're into that-
S.D.: Finish that sentence and DIE.
> If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
RACE <MegaZone>: [pockets plans labeled "Model T Ninjas" and whistles innocently]
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent?
[* Yet another "Racial Slurs Drinking Game" opportunity. *]
> What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
TBS: One Gary-Shandling-esque Time Thingie later...
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment.
MMK: Which would be Zoner Look #19, the "You don't have the whole story,
but I can't talk at the moment" look.
RACE <MegaZone>: MMMPH! MMMPH BMMMPH BMMMMMMMPH!
> (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Damn it, Zoner! For the last time, the Smurfs are NOT Satan-worshipping CIA midgets that eat the flesh off of alien drug lords operating out of Graceland!
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1.
GAVOK: So she can't wear blue armor and fight against Dr. Wily.
MMK: That's "Rockman," Gavok.
GAVOK: Oh. Then she can't become an American cable station that plays classic/soft rock.
MMK: That's "VH1," Gavok.
GAVOK: Then she can't hold concerts and sing "American Badass."
MMK: That's "Kid Rock," Gavok.
GAVOK: Then who's Rock-1?
[* Damn. I can't think of a good closer. ;_; *]
> Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?'
RACE: Maybe they've got Auras of Exposition.
> Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell.
MMK: Unless you talk to pants.
> We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
GAVOK <Kin Korn Karn>: It does not have! MONGOLIAN CHOP!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me. I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Man, I'd love to put my hand upon your little sexy ass and squeeze. And squeeeeeeeeeeeze!
> Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... "
> I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... "
RACE <Gryphon>: At this point, I just started banging my head in the keyboard.
> Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... " Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea.
RACE: Crossing over to other cheesy 80s cartoons.
> That was not my intention.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Yeah, I'm-
MMK <Gryphon>: BUSTA WORLFF!!
[MMK punches GAVOK in the arm, who oversells and flies across the theater. A long silence follows, with the others staring at at him.]
MMK: What?
ARL: ...did you just do something *besides* an "it doesn't matter" in response to a question?
MMK: Well, yeah.
TBS: The MMK I know would *never* do that...
MMK: Yeah, well, I'm trying to branch out, and-
[TBS pulls out a towel and points it threateningly at MMK.]
TBS: Who are you, and what have you done with the MMK??
[MMK pulls a mask off of his face, revealing GAVOK. Meanwhile, THE OTHER
GAVOK gets up and walks back to his seat. TBS looks at GAVOK, then at
THE OTHER GAVOK, and blinks.]
TBS: ...
S.D.: Ohhh-kay...
RACE: ...what the hell?
ARL: Dear sweet merciful crap, there's *two* of them.
[THE OTHER GAVOK grins and pulls a mask off of his face, revealing MMK. He
^_^s]
MMK: Gotcha.
[I am really, truly sorry for this... -RoP]
[I'm cool with it. Sorry for cutting out the mass "Buster Wolf!" cry, but I liked this Loon moment better. -z]
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...) I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
TBS: "When Gryphons Attack," coming up next on FOX!
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind? Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
GAVOK <MegaZone>: How many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll tootsie pop?
ARL <MegaZone>: What would Jesus do?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something.
S.D.: Megazone stars in... "The Poseidon Adventure!"
> I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm going to kill you. [pause] But I won't enjoy it.
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
RACE <Gryphon>: You're not saying that just because we're writing you
that way, are you?
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
[ALL blink and look around.]
RACE: Do the acoustics in this place seem a little off to you?
ARL: There's a little bit of an echo, if that's what you mean...
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats,
GAVOK <Gryphon>: They MOCK me.
> they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves.
TBS <Zoner>: HYPER VIPER BEAM!
> It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts.
RACE: They've got some nice theme songs, though.
> I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-. Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
ARL <MegaZone>: You're a vegetarian.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: [high-pitched voice] ...celery?
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate.
TBS: It's funnier when Abbot and Costello do it.
> (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
MMK: ...but it's a lot more fun when you're with strong-willed ones!
GAVOK: Like that time when were at Double M's, and we broke half a dozen tables and nearly every chair in the place arguing over what pizza toppings we wanted?
MMK: Greatest. Lunch. *Ever.*
GAVOK: IN-DEED.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's,
ARL: But if Zoner knew Zoner's, and Grypon knew Meg's, then how did Meg know Meg's when Zoner knew...
[Something in ARL's head makes a loud popping noise.]
GAVOK: Ouchie.
RACE: Poor guy.
> so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
RACE <Gryphon>: And then she'd see my private bits, if you get my drift.
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
ARL: Brought to you by Mind's Eye Theater.
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
???: I tried loading a warrior on my computer, but it turned out that it was too old, and I ended up having to download some files to support it.
ARL: Oh really? What kind of files?
???: Warrior's legacy drivers.
[ALL groan.]
[Botched computer jokes? Check...]
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
GAVOK: I'm not Rapprochement.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
RACE: The Coreys of the fanfiction world.
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
S.D.: Is it a name or directions?
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
GAVOK: Old McDonald had a fic. E-I-E-I-O. And in this fic he shot some guys.
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness. The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own;
> he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his. Not too long ago, I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time.
ARL: Wow. He just retroactively booked that chick from Chapter One as being even *less* competent.
RACE: It's impressive.
ARL: Really?
RACE: Fuck no, dude. I'm being polite.
> Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it.
TBS: Try it anyway. If you screw up, hey, you can always send it to
Worcester's Funniest Home Videos.
> I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
MMK: [sings] Three times a lady...
[Um, no. It's:
MMK <singing>:
[remember?]
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance,
ARL: Gryph must be a big hit at candy raves.
> and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
TBS: Pregnant women and people with heart conditions should not ride the lightning.
MMK <singing>: Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die, burning in my
brain, I can feel the flames...
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects, and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position.
MMK: Good thing the Spaniard didn't think to twist his wrist slightly.
> The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right,
ARL: ...you know, I never realized how goofy the action in 2D fighting games would be until I saw it written out here.
[RACE, GAVOK, MMK, and TBS all mutter something that sounds like "Sorge."]
> but that turned out not to be necessary.
ARL <other Spainard>: Here. Let me punch myself out for you.
S.D. <Gryphon>: How kind.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing.
RACE <sotto voce>: The tingle tells you it's working.
> The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward.
S.D.: I do that whenever I see a David Lynch movie.
GAVOK: So is *that* an Electric Boogaloo?
> Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
ARL: Hey! You just decked Alex Rovias! You bastard!
[I'm kinda riding the line between obscure and pointless, here.]
> Hmm.
MMK <rubbing his chin>: Hmmm... Hmmm! HMMMM!
GAVOK: Blah. [Gavok's head falls off]
> It never did -that- before.
ARL: Did he just accidentally discover *another* technique?
> People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Funny. Psycho Lightning doesn't conduct metal at our house...
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought!
ARL: So it's possible to control the properties of one's INCREDIBUL CHEE
POWURZ simply through force of will...
TBS: So theoretically, one could have a cheese danish chi blast?
ARL: Well, if you want to go by Ben's logic, then technically, yes.
TBS: I see.
[TBS pulls out a notebook, writes something down, then resumes watching the
'fic.]
> This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
RACE <Gryphon>: Did I forget to mention that they were wearing giant sombreros and sitting against a wall?
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise.
RACE: Oh, leather jacket! You wacky funster!
> Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow)
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Because even though you're unconscious and badly beaten, you *still* probably pay too much for long distance.
> on one of the ninja (does it matter which?)
S.D.: Yes, oh heavens YES! How will I live my life without knowing on which
ninja Ben left his card??
> and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
GAVOK: Some ninja... they didn't even wail.
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter.
S.D.: You know, to extrapolate from the Hutchinsverse lore I gained by watching "Hopelessly Lost," he's still technically cheating on Yuri *and* Sylia here.
RACE: He's just *looking*.
S.D.: Chapter ain't over yet, man.
RACE: ...point.
> She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon.
MMK: Two vikings, though, watch out.
> He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in --
RACE <Zoner>: --no, up--no, I mean *in*! OH! Naughty Zoner! [slaps self]
> you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?"
MMK <Zoner>: Either way, you ain't gonna believe *any* of this shit.
> I was hoping she'd choose Cliff Notes;
ARL: So were we.
> I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
[ALL throw Bingo cards up in the air and grumble in dissatisfaction.]
RACE: I was [holds up his pointer finger] ONE number away!
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate.
S.D. <Meg>: ...
RACE <Zoner>: ...actually, he owns a dojo and he had a taser.
S.D. <Meg>: That's more like it.
> M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times.
ARL: Gryphon tried to kill his master a few times?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Hey. Wake up, asshole.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: [sleepily] Whaaaat?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: What?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel!
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Well... it was in there! And if it's in there, then it's fair game.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Then maybe this is fair game! HOO-WAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You like that? That's right. That's a karate chop! HEE-YAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Jeez!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: KEE-AI!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
> Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait.
ARL <Meg>: I'm supposed to believe a story like this when a guy named "Zoner" is telling it?
> Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
S.D. <Meg>: Okay, then. Like the Shinobi-lleros.
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
ARL: Warrior's Legacy! The story that *dares* to tell you, "Hey, Meg's cute."
RACE: The real bitch of this is that "Bionic Six" was a Robotech-era cartoon. Meg looked like a guy with tits.
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
MMK: Well, then, there it is.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on.
ARL: No kidding.
> Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone.
RACE: Not talking about Ben... is that allowed?
> I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
MMK <Zoner>: Actually, I'm a Street Fighter Alpha.
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me.
ALL <singsong>: Happy Thought!
> I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it.
> No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot,
MMK <MegaZone>: Power Wave...
TBS <MZ>: Rising Tackle...
RACE <MZ>: Power Geyser...
GAVOK <MZ>: Ridiculously flamboyant superhero with the power to animate
cheese...
> and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service.
ARL <Meg>: But you're not Brit--
RACE <Zoner>: SILENCE, designated cartoon booty!
> You could call me a freelance spy."
ARL <Zoner>: But the kids in highschool called me Stinky.
RACE: So if he was named Sluggy, would that make him Sluggy Fr--
ARL: No.
[A pause.]
ARL: Well... no.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
RACE: YOU MAKE THE CALL!
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that
GAVOK: --lets you eat the fries off his plate.
> reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
S.D.: MegaZone was later found dead, his spine pulverized. Tragically, nobody
mentioned to him the fact that the laughter was doing the little dance on
Maniac until it was too late.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella.
RACE <Squidward>: And if there's anything else you want, PLEASE hesitate to ask!
> I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
ARL: Okay, why did I just get the mental image of MegaZone rampaging
through MegaTokyo?
S.D.: Funny you should mention Zoner in MegaTokyo...
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind.
MMK <MegaZone>: Remember the Bay of Pigs? ME, baby!
> Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates. Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that.
RACE <Zoner>: Well I did, but that was a Menudo concert and had nothing to do with my work.
> It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. No sir ree.
> But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon. "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
[* ? *]
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him.
S.D.: Oh, so you're "just friends?" Tch, guys are always "just friends."
You'd feel better about it if you just came out and told each other the
truth...
> Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center."
TBS <MegaZone>: I'm like a stale Cadbury egg!
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm like an overcooked biscuit!
ARL <MegaZone>: I'm like a cockroach!
S.D. <MegaZone>: I'm like a jar of Play-Doh!
> I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero? Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
TBS: Wind.
MMK: Page Break strikes again!
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence. He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside;
MMK <Freemedicalcare>: Ooh! I just had a thought. [pause] Lost it. Slippery little buggers.
> I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked.
ARL <Meg>: Mother asked us if we were bad enough dudes to save our father.
> We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us.
S.D. <Meg>: He said he could make us better, stronger--
RACE <Zoner>: Okay, I get it!
> That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham.
RACE: Biff!
GAVOK: Socko!
TBS: Fnord!
> It all came flooding back.
GAVOK <Zoner>: And from then on out I couldn't get that "Wake me up before you Go-Go" song out of my head.
> In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward?
TBS: R-o-l-a-i-d-s.
S.D. <darkly>: However I darn well please.
> I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
RACE <MegaZone>: Hey! I have a poster of you on my bedroom wall back in New York! In fact, it's probably still the-... oh, crap.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist... Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?"
MMK <Harry>: Samsonite!
GAVOK <Lloyd>: See, I knew it started with an S.
> She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
TBS: Luckily for them, the city has an innie.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
[* This looks like as good a spot as any to introduce the Racial Slurs Drinking Game. *]
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired.
ARL: They reversed the polarity, didn't they?
RACE: They *always* reverse the polarity!
MMK <writing on a pad of paper>: Note to self: Change superweapon to AC power.
> Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity." She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
[MMK, GAVOK and S.D. open their mouths at the same time. They stop and look at each other.]
MMK: Ladies first.
S.D.: Darn. I forgot what I was going to say.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions.
ARL: Bob Dylan can't find his keys! We need your help!
> The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
ARL <MegaZone>: They're as stale as week-old bread.
[A beat.]
ARL <MZ>: *Damn* it...
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous.
GAVOK: Oh. So they got hard outer shells like insects.
MMK: No. That's "exoskeletons."
GAVOK: Oh. Then they died off and would become fossil fuels in a million years time.
MMK: No. That's "extinct."
GAVOK: So they stopped focusing on themselves and busied themselves with others?
MMK: No. That's "extrovert."
GAVOK: Then what's "extraneous?"
MMK: It means that they had to take their liquids through a needle.
GAVOK: Oh.
[ARL grinds his teeth audibly.]
> Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization.
RACE <MegaZone>: I can't wait to tell Michael Moore about THIS one.
> "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that.
TBS: How hard is it to find yourself? I mean, no matter where you go,
there you are!
GAVOK: That's why whenever I need to hide from myself I always head to
Starbucks. I'd *never* think of finding me there.
> I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
GAVOK: [makes two car-horn honking noises]
TBS: M-C-O
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. Because I don't enjoy killing. Honest.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns. What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel,
ARL: You're moving too fast. Cold steel isn't until the THIRD date.
> and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
RACE: Yeah, that's the nice part about women, they're-
S.D.: You're not speaking from experience, are you Race?
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside,
ALL <MegaZone>: A soft, creamy center.
> the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies,
GAVOK: Turn that music down! We're trying to sleep down here!
> but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
TBS: Additional writing by Ace Sanchez.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
MMK <Janeane Garofalo>: But lines are infinite! This is a line segment! Can't I at least get a RAY of cocaine?
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
RACE <passenger>: Why are those two dressed as wookies?
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
[* Insert "bees" riff here. *]
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence.
ARL: It was easy-listening silence, the kind of silence you could hear all
day...
> I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked.
TBS: She must have Windows installed on her.
RACE <MegaZone>: It was time to hit her Ctrl-Alt-Delete, if you know what I mean...
> She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
GAVOK: I have!
ARL: You bloody well have not!
GAVOK: Have too! For one, brief, shining moment, I knew! I knew where in the world Carmen Sandiego was!
[ARL rubs his head and groans.]
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him?
S.D.: I played Max Payne. Does that count?
> If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like.
MMK <singing>: You don't know what it's like to be me... you don't
know what it's like to go between...
> Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon, but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy killing for her. [pause] Well... maybe a little...
> Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: We'll get Terry Bogard to ask him. That's always fun!
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T. I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street, on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
RACE <MegaZone>: Oh, Sam I Am, you silly fool. Don't you realize that he doesn't want your green foodstuffs?
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him.
S.D.: Jealous, Gryph?
> Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true, but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
RACE <MegaZone>: Wait. If the Lorax speaks for the trees, shouldn't he have asked for plant food and water as well?
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared.
MMK <Mr. Grimm>: ...for human flesh.
GAVOK <Gryphon, booming voice>: ...FOR THE SOULS OF THE LIVING!
ARL: Ben "Gryphon" Hutchins IS... SINISTAR!
> "Joyce Chen's."
GAVOK: Eh, good enough.
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
ARL: Well, that explains why she's been hanging out with Gryph and Zoner...
RACE <Gryphon>: Phew! That's a relief then. Zoner here is hung like a nat and...
TBS <Zoner>: Dude!
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so. I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
GAVOK <singing with mouth closed>: Come on in, come to the place where fun never ends! Come on in, it's time to party with Garfield and Friends! Garfield and Friends!
(Everyone stares)
GAVOK: What?
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle.
ALL <Ninjas>: We are hedge. Move along.
> To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine:
S.D. <Maitre'd>: For the love of GOD, will you PLEASE put some PANTS on?
> "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
ARL: That probably stems from your complete inability to be concise in any
way, shape or form.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull. Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly.
MMK: Three words, man: Gee. Tee. Ai.
ARL: Those are letters.
MMK: What, so letters can't be words all of a sudden? You bigot.
> I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses),
GAVOK: Kinda makes you wonder how many of them were jobbers, huh?
MMK <Zoner>: And tell them who the losses were against.
TBS <Gryphon>: I'd rather not.
MMK <Zoner>: Just tell 'em. It's cute!
TBS <Gryphon>: (mutters something)
MMK <Zoner>: What was that?
TBS <Gryphon>: I SAID I LOST TO SHAQUILLE O'NEIL AND BRIAN BATTLER, NOW SHUT UP!
> that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg,
ARL: Oh, God.
RACE: What?
ARL: I just had the image of Gryphon flying around on a golden chocobo.
> which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together.
ARL: These waffles are stuck together.
MMK: That's what good waffles do!
S.D.: "Good friends." Riiiiiiiight...
RACE: You're making an awful lot of yaoi comments, considering that Gryph's five-seven and three-hundred... unless you're into that-
S.D.: Finish that sentence and DIE.
> If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
RACE <MegaZone>: [pockets plans labeled "Model T Ninjas" and whistles innocently]
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent?
[* Yet another "Racial Slurs Drinking Game" opportunity. *]
> What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
TBS: One Gary-Shandling-esque Time Thingie later...
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment.
MMK: Which would be Zoner Look #19, the "You don't have the whole story,
but I can't talk at the moment" look.
RACE <MegaZone>: MMMPH! MMMPH BMMMPH BMMMMMMMPH!
> (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Damn it, Zoner! For the last time, the Smurfs are NOT Satan-worshipping CIA midgets that eat the flesh off of alien drug lords operating out of Graceland!
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1.
GAVOK: So she can't wear blue armor and fight against Dr. Wily.
MMK: That's "Rockman," Gavok.
GAVOK: Oh. Then she can't become an American cable station that plays classic/soft rock.
MMK: That's "VH1," Gavok.
GAVOK: Then she can't hold concerts and sing "American Badass."
MMK: That's "Kid Rock," Gavok.
GAVOK: Then who's Rock-1?
[* Damn. I can't think of a good closer. ;_; *]
> Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?'
RACE: Maybe they've got Auras of Exposition.
> Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell.
MMK: Unless you talk to pants.
> We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
GAVOK <Kin Korn Karn>: It does not have! MONGOLIAN CHOP!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me. I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Man, I'd love to put my hand upon your little sexy ass and squeeze. And squeeeeeeeeeeeze!
> Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... "
> I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... "
RACE <Gryphon>: At this point, I just started banging my head in the keyboard.
> Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... " Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea.
RACE: Crossing over to other cheesy 80s cartoons.
> That was not my intention.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Yeah, I'm-
MMK <Gryphon>: BUSTA WORLFF!!
[MMK punches GAVOK in the arm, who oversells and flies across the theater. A long silence follows, with the others staring at at him.]
MMK: What?
ARL: ...did you just do something *besides* an "it doesn't matter" in response to a question?
MMK: Well, yeah.
TBS: The MMK I know would *never* do that...
MMK: Yeah, well, I'm trying to branch out, and-
[TBS pulls out a towel and points it threateningly at MMK.]
TBS: Who are you, and what have you done with the MMK??
[MMK pulls a mask off of his face, revealing GAVOK. Meanwhile, THE OTHER
GAVOK gets up and walks back to his seat. TBS looks at GAVOK, then at
THE OTHER GAVOK, and blinks.]
TBS: ...
S.D.: Ohhh-kay...
RACE: ...what the hell?
ARL: Dear sweet merciful crap, there's *two* of them.
[THE OTHER GAVOK grins and pulls a mask off of his face, revealing MMK. He
^_^s]
MMK: Gotcha.
[I am really, truly sorry for this... -RoP]
[I'm cool with it. Sorry for cutting out the mass "Buster Wolf!" cry, but I liked this Loon moment better. -z]
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...) I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
TBS: "When Gryphons Attack," coming up next on FOX!
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind? Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
GAVOK <MegaZone>: How many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll tootsie pop?
ARL <MegaZone>: What would Jesus do?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something.
S.D.: Megazone stars in... "The Poseidon Adventure!"
> I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm going to kill you. [pause] But I won't enjoy it.
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
RACE <Gryphon>: You're not saying that just because we're writing you
that way, are you?
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
[ALL blink and look around.]
RACE: Do the acoustics in this place seem a little off to you?
ARL: There's a little bit of an echo, if that's what you mean...
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats,
GAVOK <Gryphon>: They MOCK me.
> they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves.
TBS <Zoner>: HYPER VIPER BEAM!
> It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts.
RACE: They've got some nice theme songs, though.
> I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-. Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
ARL <MegaZone>: You're a vegetarian.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: [high-pitched voice] ...celery?
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate.
TBS: It's funnier when Abbot and Costello do it.
> (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
MMK: ...but it's a lot more fun when you're with strong-willed ones!
GAVOK: Like that time when were at Double M's, and we broke half a dozen tables and nearly every chair in the place arguing over what pizza toppings we wanted?
MMK: Greatest. Lunch. *Ever.*
GAVOK: IN-DEED.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's,
ARL: But if Zoner knew Zoner's, and Grypon knew Meg's, then how did Meg know Meg's when Zoner knew...
[Something in ARL's head makes a loud popping noise.]
GAVOK: Ouchie.
RACE: Poor guy.
> so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
RACE <Gryphon>: And then she'd see my private bits, if you get my drift.
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
ARL: Brought to you by Mind's Eye Theater.
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
???: I tried loading a warrior on my computer, but it turned out that it was too old, and I ended up having to download some files to support it.
ARL: Oh really? What kind of files?
???: Warrior's legacy drivers.
[ALL groan.]
[Botched computer jokes? Check...]
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
GAVOK: I'm not Rapprochement.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
RACE: The Coreys of the fanfiction world.
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
S.D.: Is it a name or directions?
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
GAVOK: Old McDonald had a fic. E-I-E-I-O. And in this fic he shot some guys.
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness.
???: E's not dead, e's just resting.
> The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own;
> he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his.
???: Silly Spaniard and your silly sword.
> Not too long ago,
???: In a galaxy not too far away.
> I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time.
ARL: Wow. He just retroactively booked that chick from Chapter One as being even *less* competent.
RACE: It's impressive.
ARL: Really?
RACE: Fuck no, dude. I'm being polite.
> Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it.
TBS: Try it anyway. If you screw up, hey, you can always send it to
Worcester's Funniest Home Videos.
> I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
MMK: [sings] Three times a lady...
[Um, no. It's:
MMK <singing>:
[remember?]
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance,
ARL: Gryph must be a big hit at candy raves.
> and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
TBS: Pregnant women and people with heart conditions should not ride the lightning.
MMK <singing>: Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die, burning in my
brain, I can feel the flames...
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects,
???: Which is a long-winded way of saying "Ben runs with scissors"
> and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position.
MMK: Good thing the Spaniard didn't think to twist his wrist slightly.
> The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right,
ARL: ...you know, I never realized how goofy the action in 2D fighting games would be until I saw it written out here.
[RACE, GAVOK, MMK, and TBS all mutter something that sounds like "Sorge."]
> but that turned out not to be necessary.
ARL <other Spainard>: Here. Let me punch myself out for you.
S.D. <Gryphon>: How kind.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing.
RACE <sotto voce>: The tingle tells you it's working.
> The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward.
S.D.: I do that whenever I see a David Lynch movie.
GAVOK: So is *that* an Electric Boogaloo?
> Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
ARL: Hey! You just decked Alex Rovias! You bastard!
[I'm kinda riding the line between obscure and pointless, here.]
> Hmm.
MMK <rubbing his chin>: Hmmm... Hmmm! HMMMM!
GAVOK: Blah. [Gavok's head falls off]
> It never did -that- before.
ARL: Did he just accidentally discover *another* technique?
> People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Funny. Psycho Lightning doesn't conduct metal at our house...
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought!
ARL: So it's possible to control the properties of one's INCREDIBUL CHEE
POWURZ simply through force of will...
TBS: So theoretically, one could have a cheese danish chi blast?
ARL: Well, if you want to go by Ben's logic, then technically, yes.
TBS: I see.
[TBS pulls out a notebook, writes something down, then resumes watching the
'fic.]
> This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty
???: So first a drink, then we explode the deeper meaning of life.
> and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
RACE <Gryphon>: Did I forget to mention that they were wearing giant sombreros and sitting against a wall?
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
???: They got while the getting was good.
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise.
RACE: Oh, leather jacket! You wacky funster!
> Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow)
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Because even though you're unconscious and badly beaten, you *still* probably pay too much for long distance.
> on one of the ninja (does it matter which?)
S.D.: Yes, oh heavens YES! How will I live my life without knowing on which
ninja Ben left his card??
> and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
GAVOK: Some ninja... they didn't even wail.
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter.
S.D.: You know, to extrapolate from the Hutchinsverse lore I gained by watching "Hopelessly Lost," he's still technically cheating on Yuri *and* Sylia here.
RACE: He's just *looking*.
S.D.: Chapter ain't over yet, man.
RACE: ...point.
> She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon.
MMK: Two vikings, though, watch out.
> He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in --
RACE <Zoner>: --no, up--no, I mean *in*! OH! Naughty Zoner! [slaps self]
> you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?"
MMK <Zoner>: Either way, you ain't gonna believe *any* of this shit.
> I was hoping she'd choose Cliff Notes;
ARL: So were we.
> I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
[ALL throw Bingo cards up in the air and grumble in dissatisfaction.]
RACE: I was [holds up his pointer finger] ONE number away!
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate.
S.D. <Meg>: ...
RACE <Zoner>: ...actually, he owns a dojo and he had a taser.
S.D. <Meg>: That's more like it.
> M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times.
ARL: Gryphon tried to kill his master a few times?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Hey. Wake up, asshole.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: [sleepily] Whaaaat?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: What?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel!
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Well... it was in there! And if it's in there, then it's fair game.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Then maybe this is fair game! HOO-WAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You like that? That's right. That's a karate chop! HEE-YAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Jeez!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: KEE-AI!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
> Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu and..."
> "Wait.
ARL <Meg>: I'm supposed to believe a story like this when a guy named "Zoner" is telling it?
> Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
S.D. <Meg>: Okay, then. Like the Shinobi-lleros.
???: So would, say Australian ninjas wear slouch hats, thongs and carry boomerangs?
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
ARL: Warrior's Legacy! The story that *dares* to tell you, "Hey, Meg's cute."
RACE: The real bitch of this is that "Bionic Six" was a Robotech-era cartoon. Meg looked like a guy with tits.
[Not too sure what you mean there, the girls in Robotech defitely looked like Girls - Rick who should know.]
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
MMK: Well, then, there it is.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on.
ARL: No kidding.
> Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone.
RACE: Not talking about Ben... is that allowed?
> I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
MMK <Zoner>: Actually, I'm a Street Fighter Alpha.
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me.
ALL <singsong>: Happy Thought!
> I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it.
> No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot,
MMK <MegaZone>: Power Wave...
TBS <MZ>: Rising Tackle...
RACE <MZ>: Power Geyser...
GAVOK <MZ>: Ridiculously flamboyant superhero with the power to animate
cheese...
> and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service.
ARL <Meg>: But you're not Brit--
RACE <Zoner>: SILENCE, designated cartoon booty!
> You could call me a freelance spy."
ARL <Zoner>: But the kids in highschool called me Stinky.
RACE: So if he was named Sluggy, would that make him Sluggy Fr--
ARL: No.
[A pause.]
ARL: Well... no.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
RACE: YOU MAKE THE CALL!
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that
GAVOK: --lets you eat the fries off his plate.
> reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
S.D.: MegaZone was later found dead, his spine pulverized. Tragically, nobody
mentioned to him the fact that the laughter was doing the little dance on
Maniac until it was too late.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella.
RACE <Squidward>: And if there's anything else you want, PLEASE hesitate to ask!
> I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
ARL: Okay, why did I just get the mental image of MegaZone rampaging
through MegaTokyo?
S.D.: Funny you should mention Zoner in MegaTokyo...
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
???: She did a buy-out of most of the major shareholders.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind.
MMK <MegaZone>: Remember the Bay of Pigs? ME, baby!
> Yes, I'm really a spy. I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates.
???: So next time you need to get weapons-grade Plutonium out of the country and it has to be there without those bothering customs officials getting in your way, Zoner's your man!
> Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big. And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that.
RACE <Zoner>: Well I did, but that was a Menudo concert and had nothing to do with my work.
> It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget." OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. No sir ree.
> But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon.
???: Scaring her off? Heck, say "bub" every few words and you're a best seller.
> "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
[* ? *]
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him.
S.D.: Oh, so you're "just friends?" Tch, guys are always "just friends."
You'd feel better about it if you just came out and told each other the
truth...
> Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center."
TBS <MegaZone>: I'm like a stale Cadbury egg!
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm like an overcooked biscuit!
ARL <MegaZone>: I'm like a cockroach!
S.D. <MegaZone>: I'm like a jar of Play-Doh!
> I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero?
??? <Meg>: They've got nothing against it as long as I'm home before ten.
> Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
TBS: Wind.
MMK: Page Break strikes again!
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence.
ALL: SCIENCE!
> He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside;
MMK <Freemedicalcare>: Ooh! I just had a thought. [pause] Lost it. Slippery little buggers.
> I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
??? <Meg>: Actually, it was. Dad was a cyborg spy, mum was a toaster overn.
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked.
ARL <Meg>: Mother asked us if we were bad enough dudes to save our father.
> We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us.
S.D. <Meg>: He said he could make us better, stronger--
RACE <Zoner>: Okay, I get it!
> That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham.
RACE: Biff!
GAVOK: Socko!
TBS: Fnord!
> It all came flooding back.
GAVOK <Zoner>: And from then on out I couldn't get that "Wake me up before you Go-Go" song out of my head.
> In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward?
TBS: R-o-l-a-i-d-s.
S.D. <darkly>: However I darn well please.
> I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
RACE <MegaZone>: Hey! I have a poster of you on my bedroom wall back in New York! In fact, it's probably still the-... oh, crap.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist...
???: So in Ben's little world, every villain workes for Bison?
???: It makes about as much sense as Shredder's Zombie working for Gannon, or Iczer-2 for Largo, I guess.
> Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?"
MMK <Harry>: Samsonite!
GAVOK <Lloyd>: See, I knew it started with an S.
> She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
TBS: Luckily for them, the city has an innie.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
[* This looks like as good a spot as any to introduce the Racial Slurs Drinking Game. *]
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired.
ARL: They reversed the polarity, didn't they?
RACE: They *always* reverse the polarity!
MMK <writing on a pad of paper>: Note to self: Change superweapon to AC power.
> Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity."
???: Signualrities suck.
[I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me - Rick R.]
> She
> didn't look too happy about it, considering it was the end of her
> family's nastiest arch-foe she was discussing.
> "What's wrong? You seem depressed about it." The train
> arrived. We boarded. It pulled out.
[MMK, GAVOK and S.D. open their mouths at the same time. They stop and look at each other.]
MMK: Ladies first.
S.D.: Darn. I forgot what I was going to say.
> "That was the beginning of the end. With Scarab gone we were
> sent on fewer and fewer missions.
ARL: Bob Dylan can't find his keys! We need your help!
> The government started to claim
> they didn't have work for us. Dr. Sharp was moved to some old Army
> lab with barely enough funding to keep the power on. Dr. Wells
> decided to retire. It really just sucked." Typical. The government
> used them until they were no longer useful and tossed them away like a
> used bandage. I need new similes too.
ARL <MegaZone>: They're as stale as week-old bread.
[A beat.]
ARL <MZ>: *Damn* it...
> "Then the shit hit the fan," she continued. "Oscar was
> transferred out of OSI. They replaced him with some tightassed Air
> Force officer. He proceeded to 'restructure' the OSI, pushed Steve
> and Jamie into retirement, slashed the budget. Overnight the Bionic
> Six were extraneous.
GAVOK: Oh. So they got hard outer shells like insects.
MMK: No. That's "exoskeletons."
GAVOK: Oh. Then they died off and would become fossil fuels in a million years time.
MMK: No. That's "extinct."
GAVOK: So they stopped focusing on themselves and busied themselves with others?
MMK: No. That's "extrovert."
GAVOK: Then what's "extraneous?"
MMK: It means that they had to take their liquids through a needle.
GAVOK: Oh.
[ARL grinds his teeth audibly.]
> Goodbye. Don't call us, we won't call you."
> "You were downsized!" People turned to look at us; that came
> out a bit louder that I intended. Hey, it isn't every day you find
> out even super-heroes are subject to Dilbertization.
RACE <MegaZone>: I can't wait to tell Michael Moore about THIS one.
> "Man, that
> really sucks. So, what happened to you all?"
> "Mom and Dad retired. They have enough saved up to live off
> of. Mom does some work for Woods Hole from time to time, and Dad has
> a couple of cookbooks out; he's thinking about maybe doing one of
> those afternoon cooking shows on the Discovery Channel. J.D. went off
> to find himself in the Valley of Shadows, or something like that.
TBS: How hard is it to find yourself? I mean, no matter where you go,
there you are!
GAVOK: That's why whenever I need to hide from myself I always head to
Starbucks. I'd *never* think of finding me there.
> I
> guess he got tired of racking up degrees. Eric is playing Double-A,
GAVOK: [makes two car-horn honking noises]
TBS: M-C-O
> trying to attract a scout's attention. Bunji has a budding film
> career in Hong Kong. And me... Well, I'm hoping to build some kind
> of band I guess. I don't know really. I'm sort of on autopilot. One
> day you're fighting to save the world, the next day you're unemployed
> with an uncertain future." She looked like she was fighting the urge
> to cry. At that moment I wanted to tear a bloody path through the
> administration that did this to her.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. Because I don't enjoy killing. Honest.
> Which is how I knew I had fallen for her. I don't kill for
> just anyone - and hey, you didn't see that look in her eyes. At the
> moment I had more immediate concerns.
??? <Zoner>: Whenre can I get an outfit like hers?
> What the hell, I thought; I put
> my arm around her and hugged her tight. I think this is sort of
> disturbing, but: I wasn't sure what to expect. I think somewhere in
> the back of my mind I was expecting cold steel,
ARL: You're moving too fast. Cold steel isn't until the THIRD date.
> and you know, I don't
> think I would have minded it all that much. But she was warm and
> soft, and she yielded readily.
RACE: Yeah, that's the nice part about women, they're-
S.D.: You're not speaking from experience, are you Race?
> She reminded me a great deal of myself: a strong exterior to
> face a cold, violent world. And inside,
ALL <MegaZone>: A soft, creamy center.
> the pain hides, only to come
> out late at night to remind you of the things you thought, and hoped,
> you had long forgotten. The kind of nights that made you want to go
> out and scream at the dark skies,
GAVOK: Turn that music down! We're trying to sleep down here!
> but you didn't, because you knew it
> wouldn't help. The nights when the memories drove you out into the
> relentless rain, trying to wash away the blood and the scars.
TBS: Additional writing by Ace Sanchez.
> We sat, quietly embracing, until we arrived at Park Street.
> We resumed our positions on the Red Line train, sitting in silence all
> the way to Alewife. We would have sat there longer, but that was the
> end of the line.
MMK <Janeane Garofalo>: But lines are infinite! This is a line segment! Can't I at least get a RAY of cocaine?
> "C'mon, we'd better go." The train had long since emptied.
> Boarding passengers were looking at us oddly.
RACE <passenger>: Why are those two dressed as wookies?
> "Yeah..." Her eyes were tinged with red. I had the feeling
> mine were too. They were stinging like they were.
[* Insert "bees" riff here. *]
> We strolled up to the parking garage, my arm across he
> shoulders, her arm around my waist. We reached my Suburban it what
> seemed like far too short a time, still without a word spoken. It was
> an amazingly comfortable silence.
ARL: It was easy-listening silence, the kind of silence you could hear all
day...
> I unlocked her door and as she
> slipped past me I stopped her on an impulse, gathered her into my
> arms, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. We
> parted slightly, our eyes locked.
TBS: She must have Windows installed on her.
RACE <MegaZone>: It was time to hit her Ctrl-Alt-Delete, if you know what I mean...
> She tipped her head up and stood on
> her toes, her lips brushing mine lightly.
> "Thank you," she whispered. We parted and she climbed into the
> passenger seat, pulling the door closed.
> Have you ever had one of those moments of perfect clarity?
GAVOK: I have!
ARL: You bloody well have not!
GAVOK: Have too! For one, brief, shining moment, I knew! I knew where in the world Carmen Sandiego was!
[ARL rubs his head and groans.]
> One of those zen Hathcock moments when the bullets all slow down, and
> you can see the target frozen in your sights, and you know you have
> him?
S.D.: I played Max Payne. Does that count?
> If you haven't, you just can't know what it is like.
MMK <singing>: You don't know what it's like to be me... you don't
know what it's like to go between...
> Right then,
> at that moment, I knew I had found the woman who would be the love of
> my life. I know it sounds sentimental, maybe a bit of a retcon,
ARL: He's just reconned his life. Can he do that?
> but I
> swear it is true. I had known her for all of half an hour and I would
> kill for her.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy killing for her. [pause] Well... maybe a little...
> Die for her. Do anything, say anything, endure
> anything, to see her smile.
> I shook myself free of the reverie and walked around to take
> my place behind the wheel. In unison we shared a sly smile.
> "Do you think Ben is OK?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: We'll get Terry Bogard to ask him. That's always fun!
> I glanced at my watch. "Oh yeah, he's done by now. He should
> be on his way back here."
>
> G
> So there I was, chillin' on the T.
MMK <Gryphon>: Can you dig it?
> I bought a Coke out of the
> machine at Park Street,
[OK, Ben normally seems to go out of his way to mention Pepsi at every opportunity, like he was getting apid for product placement or somehting. Now I'm trying ot think of somehting, but nothing's coming - Rick R.]
> on my way from the Green Line to the Red
> Line, then lucked out and got one of the nice new silver Red Line
> trains which don't make a lot of noise and rattle out your teeth. I
> found a corner seat, kicked back and started reading again.
RACE <Gryphon>: Oh, Sam I Am, you silly fool. Don't you realize that he doesn't want your green foodstuffs?
> There were two ways I could interpret Zoner's abrupt
> departure. I could take the viewpoint that he had ditched me in a
> moment of crisis to make time with the cute girl he'd picked up at the
> music festival, and be mad at him.
S.D.: Jealous, Gryph?
> Or I could take the viewpoint that
> he had the utmost confidence in my abilities to handle the two Spanish
> ninja and had felt he could best demonstrate that confidence by not
> hovering over me constantly checking if I needed help.
> I chose the second option, not because I necessarily thought
> it was true,
??? <Gryphon>: Well, it was, but never mind.
> but because it would save me a lot of hassle later on.
> And, restored to my good humor, I plowed through another
> chapter before arriving at Alewife.
RACE <MegaZone>: Wait. If the Lorax speaks for the trees, shouldn't he have asked for plant food and water as well?
> Yup, there they were, in the Suburban. I noted with mild
> irritation that Meg had bagged my customary shotgun seat, put it down
> and climbed in back. Now was not the time for pointless bickering;
> now was the time for action!
> "I hunger," I declared.
MMK <Mr. Grimm>: ...for human flesh.
GAVOK <Gryphon, booming voice>: ...FOR THE SOULS OF THE LIVING!
ARL: Ben "Gryphon" Hutchins IS... SINISTAR!
> "Joyce Chen's."
GAVOK: Eh, good enough.
> "I've just been filling her in," said Zoner helpfully.
> "Of course you have."
> "You up for Chinese?" Zoner asked Meg.
> "Yeah, sure. Whatever you guys want, I'm easy to please."
ARL: Well, that explains why she's been hanging out with Gryph and Zoner...
RACE <Gryphon>: Phew! That's a relief then. Zoner here is hung like a nat and...
TBS <Zoner>: Dude!
> Zoner put on that sly little grin that infuriates me so.
???: Is Ben talking about what irks him hypocracy?
> I declined
> to comment; it was too early. Not for the first time, I thanked the
> cosmic planners that human beings aren't, as a general rule, able to
> hear each other's thoughts.
GAVOK <singing with mouth closed>: Come on in, come to the place where fun never ends! Come on in, it's time to party with Garfield and Friends! Garfield and Friends!
(Everyone stares)
GAVOK: What?
> "Right then, Joyce Chen's ahoy," Zoner said as he started the
> Suburban. I've always figured they called them that because they're
> roughly the size of a New England suburb. At least Zoner hadn't
> decided on the Hummer -- he wasn't quite that Combat Carl. Not that a
> blacked out Suburban is exactly subtle.
ALL <Ninjas>: We are hedge. Move along.
> To date I've resisted the
> urge to install little American flags on the front fenders or paint
> "DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY OFFICIAL USE ONLY" on the tailgate.
> The drive was unbearably long, at -least- 3 minutes, since
> Joyce Chen's is directly across the street from the station. We
> disembarked and made our way inside.
>
> We went through the usual routine:
S.D. <Maitre'd>: For the love of GOD, will you PLEASE put some PANTS on?
> "How many?" "Three"
> "Smoking or non?" "Non" "Right this way please." I'd never make a
> good host, I'd be way too tempted to ask patrons what their quest was,
> or their favorite color, or something.
ARL: That probably stems from your complete inability to be concise in any
way, shape or form.
> Most people don't think about it, but most of the time the
> life of a street fighter, or a sometime spy, is actually pretty damn
> dull.
MMK <Gryphon>: Bored bored bored bored bored.
GAVOK <Zoner>: Can't you keep it down? I'm trying to look after a multi-million dollar cargo plane here.
MMK <Gryphon>: But I'm bored!
> Zoner, since he graduated college earlier that year, still
> hadn't established just what it was he'd be doing. He didn't really
> need to work, money wasn't an issue, but, as enticing as it sounds,
> just sitting around doing nothing all day gets very maddening, very
> quickly.
MMK: Three words, man: Gee. Tee. Ai.
ARL: Those are letters.
MMK: What, so letters can't be words all of a sudden? You bigot.
> I supposed he'd actually start flying regular cargo missions
> more often or something, maybe start giving instruction.
> I don't really need to worry about money either, making my
> living as I do in a rather prosaic manner: I bet on my fights. I
> don't want to seem immodest, but when you win as consistently as I
> tend to (sixty-seven wins, two losses),
GAVOK: Kinda makes you wonder how many of them were jobbers, huh?
MMK <Zoner>: And tell them who the losses were against.
TBS <Gryphon>: I'd rather not.
MMK <Zoner>: Just tell 'em. It's cute!
TBS <Gryphon>: (mutters something)
MMK <Zoner>: What was that?
TBS <Gryphon>: I SAID I LOST TO SHAQUILLE O'NEIL AND BRIAN BATTLER, NOW SHUT UP!
> that makes for a pretty
> substantial income. Occasionally governments even pay me for my part
> in our operations. I'm still not sure how I really feel about that,
> not having set out to be in the black operations field. Then again, I
> don't know what I'd be doing if not that. It certainly fills the
> time, and there have been times when, if I hadn't been present,
> Zoner's career would have come to an abrupt and painful end.
> Anyway, over the three years of my 'professional' career I've
> built up a pretty sizeable nest egg,
ARL: Oh, God.
RACE: What?
ARL: I just had the image of Gryphon flying around on a golden chocobo.
> which is sitting happily in a
> bank earning enough interest for me to live comfortably on. I spend
> most of my time training or gallivanting about with Zoner for the sake
> of the experience. Besides, good friends stick together.
ARL: These waffles are stuck together.
MMK: That's what good waffles do!
S.D.: "Good friends." Riiiiiiiight...
RACE: You're making an awful lot of yaoi comments, considering that Gryph's five-seven and three-hundred... unless you're into that-
S.D.: Finish that sentence and DIE.
> If he got
> himself offed who would fly me to my fights? Egad, I'd have to fly
> commercial. I hate flying commercial. Wedging a size 48 butt into a
> size 42 seat isn't much fun.
???: Maybe you should shed some of that size 48 butt.
??? <Gryphon>: Maybe they could make bigger airline seats.
> "So, how'd the fight go?" Zoner inquired by way of an opening
> line.
> "Oh, the usual. That first guy I hit as you left never got
> up. Their quantity is going up but quality is going down. Henry Ford
> would never have built good ninja... you can't just crank them out.
RACE <MegaZone>: [pockets plans labeled "Model T Ninjas" and whistles innocently]
> But then, when has Spain ever mass-produced anything decent?
[* Yet another "Racial Slurs Drinking Game" opportunity. *]
> What did
> you two get up to?"
> "Oh nothing much. Meg was just telling me her story really.
> Let me fill you in..."
TBS: One Gary-Shandling-esque Time Thingie later...
> "They were downsized. I see."
> "Yeah, it really sucks," Meg chimed in.
> "Your tax dollars at work. You seem to be dealing with it OK,
> though." Zoner gave me one of those looks that said I didn't have the
> whole story, but that he couldn't talk at the moment.
MMK: Which would be Zoner Look #19, the "You don't have the whole story,
but I can't talk at the moment" look.
RACE <MegaZone>: MMMPH! MMMPH BMMMPH BMMMMMMMPH!
> (Yes, all that
> can be conveyed in a look if you know the person well enough. When
> you go through combat with someone you can get to know them rather
> well.) I wonder how much of that look came from information he really
> had, and how much of it came from his usual determination that
> -everything- had to have a darker subtext somewhere in it.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Damn it, Zoner! For the last time, the Smurfs are NOT Satan-worshipping CIA midgets that eat the flesh off of alien drug lords operating out of Graceland!
> "I've had some time to deal with it, but I'm still kind of
> numb. There are days that I expect to get called into the SPL. Or
> I'm watching the news and I feel like I should be there helping out.
> You spend a major part of your life fighting the good fight and then
> they tell you to quit cold turkey. Hell, I'm not even supposed to
> appear in public as Rock-1.
GAVOK: So she can't wear blue armor and fight against Dr. Wily.
MMK: That's "Rockman," Gavok.
GAVOK: Oh. Then she can't become an American cable station that plays classic/soft rock.
MMK: That's "VH1," Gavok.
GAVOK: Then she can't hold concerts and sing "American Badass."
MMK: That's "Kid Rock," Gavok.
GAVOK: Then who's Rock-1?
[* Damn. I can't think of a good closer. ;_; *]
[Uh, Duane Johnson's backup clone? I dunno...]
> Some bogus security restriction or
> something. For that matter I shouldn't be telling either of you all
> of this. I have no idea why I'm doing it."
> Zoner got that amused look of his. "Don't worry about it,
> happens all the time. People meet me, give me their life story, and
> then look confused because all they meant to do was say 'hi, nice day
> isn't it?'
RACE: Maybe they've got Auras of Exposition.
> Besides, you couldn't pick a better pair to tell.
MMK: Unless you talk to pants.
> We keep
> our secrets, and I just might be able to help you out."
> Uh-oh. Zoner was having an Idea with a capital 'I' and that's
> what "I have a problem" starts with.
> "What do you mean?"
> "Well, so the OSI is basically history. Poof, gone. But!
GAVOK <Kin Korn Karn>: It does not have! MONGOLIAN CHOP!
> There are plenty of other agencies out there with black budgets.
> After all, they have to pay people like me.
???: Say, who does pay Zoner?
???: Pay to keep him away, maybe.
> I'm sure I can help find
> you a position with one of them. If you're interested, of course."
> I knew what Zoner was interested in. I shouldn't say that --
> to be fair, he can be a fairly altruistic person -- but you didn't
> have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell he had an interest in her.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Man, I'd love to put my hand upon your little sexy ass and squeeze. And squeeeeeeeeeeeze!
> Then
> again, she didn't seem to mind, and I couldn't particularly fault him
> for it.
> He looked at me as if he expected me to join in, so I did.
> "Sure, let's see. There's NSA, CIA, MI-5, MI-6, IMF, FBI, ATF,
> Mossad, SAS, SBS, Secret Service, GSG9, Spectrum, Interpol, UNIT,
> UNCLE, CONTROL, DEA, NASA, NACA... "
> I was starting to build up steam.
> "...TVA, WPA, SSA, FCC, FAA, NTSB, ICC, MBTA, BART, PBS, CBS, AFL-CIO,
> AT&T, ITT, MCI, IBM... " I seemed out of control by this time, but I
> knew what I was doing. "...NBC, ABC, OSS, MTV, VH-1, A&E, TLC, KFC,
> KLF, NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NHRA, CART, NASCAR, W3O, OSF, FSF, SCO, Ext2,
> HPFS, CCITT, ITU-T, IETF, BGP(4)... "
RACE <Gryphon>: At this point, I just started banging my head in the keyboard.
> Now I was just being silly.
> "...RIPv2, OSPF, ISIS, VLSM, BRI, PRI, SPID, TEI, B8ZS, AMI, TCP, UDP,
> ICMP, SPX, NCSA, RADIUS, TACACS, ACP... "
> Zoner was gasping for air
> and waving for me to stop. Meg looked both amused and confused.
> "...EIEIO."
> That was all it took; Zoner nearly fell out of his chair. Meg
> mildly injured herself snarfing green tea.
RACE: Crossing over to other cheesy 80s cartoons.
> That was not my intention.
ARL: No, the intention was to drown the audience inb another overplayed joke.
> I felt bad.
> "Are you OK?" I asked.
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Yeah, I'm-
MMK <Gryphon>: BUSTA WORLFF!!
[MMK punches GAVOK in the arm, who oversells and flies across the theater. A long silence follows, with the others staring at at him.]
MMK: What?
ARL: ...did you just do something *besides* an "it doesn't matter" in response to a question?
MMK: Well, yeah.
TBS: The MMK I know would *never* do that...
MMK: Yeah, well, I'm trying to branch out, and-
[TBS pulls out a towel and points it threateningly at MMK.]
TBS: Who are you, and what have you done with the MMK??
[MMK pulls a mask off of his face, revealing GAVOK. Meanwhile, THE OTHER
GAVOK gets up and walks back to his seat. TBS looks at GAVOK, then at
THE OTHER GAVOK, and blinks.]
TBS: ...
S.D.: Ohhh-kay...
RACE: ...what the hell?
ARL: Dear sweet merciful crap, there's *two* of them.
[THE OTHER GAVOK grins and pulls a mask off of his face, revealing MMK. He
^_^s]
MMK: Gotcha.
[I am really, truly sorry for this... -RoP]
[I'm cool with it. Sorry for cutting out the mass "Buster Wolf!" cry, but I liked this Loon moment better. -z]
> "Yeah." *cough* "I'm fine. Boy, that really clears your head.
> I don't recommend it though."
> We both paused to observe Zoner gasping like a fish. (Odd
> expression, that, because when you come down to it a fish gasping
> isn't really like a person gasping at all...)
???: Um, Ben, the story?
> I was just biding my
> time. He regained most of his composure and sipped some water to calm
> things. I struck.
TBS: "When Gryphons Attack," coming up next on FOX!
> "Booger."
> Zoner's cheeks immediately puffed as he fought to restrain the
> water now trapped by the air that wanted to escape. He looked
> remarkably helpless. What was going through his mind?
RACE: Boobs. Defintely boobs.
> Do I spew
> water all over the table in front of this remarkably cute woman I've
> only know for an hour? Is it any cooler to choke to death on water?
GAVOK <MegaZone>: How many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll tootsie pop?
ARL <MegaZone>: What would Jesus do?
> How long can I hold my breath anyway? By this time his lungs were
> aching for air and he had to do something.
S.D.: Megazone stars in... "The Poseidon Adventure!"
> I'm sure it didn't help to
> have Meg and I watching him like hawks on nitrous.
> In the end he managed to force the water down the right pipe
> and dragged in the overdue breath. I think my ears popped from the
> pressure drop. It was priceless. Ah, what are friends for?
> "That was really cruel, Gryph," he croaked.
> "I know."
> "I hate you."
> "I'm aware of that."
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm going to kill you. [pause] But I won't enjoy it.
> Meg was trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. It was
> working about as well as you'd expect.
> "But," I reminded him, "it's worth it; by making you look like
> a fool I've achieved temporary pack dominance."
??? <Ben>: I'm the god! I'm the god!
> Meg's giggles became slightly more pronounced. "You guys are
> great."
RACE <Gryphon>: You're not saying that just because we're writing you
that way, are you?
> "We try," we stereoed.
> "I was serious, you know." Trust Zoner to snap the
> conversation back to an old track. Sometimes he answers questions you
> asked him hours ago and thought he ignored or didn't hear.
> "I don't know," said Meg, ambivalent.
> "Well, think about it."
> "(Think about it.)"
[ALL blink and look around.]
RACE: Do the acoustics in this place seem a little off to you?
ARL: There's a little bit of an echo, if that's what you mean...
> "Think about it," Zoner finished. "I'm serious, I'd like to
> help out if I can. From what you've told me it seems like everyone
> else is dealing because they have things to occupy them. Maybe you
> were just cut out for the heroine's part." Zoner ignored my rolling
> eyes. He can really be corny sometimes. I busied myself with the
> placemat. That was unsatisfactory. I hate those placemats,
GAVOK <Gryphon>: They MOCK me.
> they
> remind me that I was born in the year of the Ox, an animal
> uncomfortably close to being a bison. That doesn't sit well with me.
> Maybe I'm paranoid. Still, it beat listening to Child of the Corn
> over there.
> "Thanks. That's very nice."
> "Think nothing of it, m'lady."
> That was too much. You haven't seen cheese until you've seen
> Zoner's moves.
TBS <Zoner>: HYPER VIPER BEAM!
> It's like watching "Shaft's Big Score!" back to back
> with "Master Ninja." It hurts. Deep down inside, it hurts.
RACE: They've got some nice theme songs, though.
> I had to
> so something fast, or I'd lose my humanity.
> "Sooo..." I clapped my hands together. "What d'you guys
> want?"
> "Hmm? Oh, -food-.
MMK: Make that two food.
GAVOK: With a side of drink.
> Right." Zoner had obviously first thought
> of something else, but I wasn't touching that.
> "I don't know, what do you guys recommend?"
> I pitched my voice down into the Barry White range. "Meat."
ARL <MegaZone>: You're a vegetarian.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: [high-pitched voice] ...celery?
> "Gryph is a real carnivore. Personally I have no idea, I've
> only been here a couple of times before."
> "Well," I said, drawing on my equally limited experience with
> this particular restaurant, "the noodle buffet is a way to get lots of
> food for cheap. The chicken fingers rock. And the orange beef is
> good. Other than that, you're on your own."
> So we studied the menus for a while and did that classic
> "group of people go out for Chinese and try to decide on dishes they
> all like so they can share" debate.
TBS: It's funnier when Abbot and Costello do it.
> (This is especially entertaining
> when the debate involves one or more especially weak-willed persons.
MMK: ...but it's a lot more fun when you're with strong-willed ones!
GAVOK: Like that time when were at Double M's, and we broke half a dozen tables and nearly every chair in the place arguing over what pizza toppings we wanted?
MMK: Greatest. Lunch. *Ever.*
GAVOK: IN-DEED.
> Not a problem this particular evening.) But within five minutes we
> had settled on an order. I filled Meg in on my story while we waited
> for the food. I figured I knew Zoner's, Zoner knew mine, Zoner knew
> Meg's, I knew Meg's, Meg knew Zoner's,
ARL: But if Zoner knew Zoner's, and Grypon knew Meg's, then how did Meg know Meg's when Zoner knew...
[Something in ARL's head makes a loud popping noise.]
GAVOK: Ouchie.
RACE: Poor guy.
> so, for symmetry's sake, I
> should complete the loop. Besides, I'm not much of a man of mystery,
> though I kept back a few of the more private bits. Later, perhaps, if
> and when I knew her better.
RACE <Gryphon>: And then she'd see my private bits, if you get my drift.
In which, by all rights, the last reference is made to Gryphon's "l33t n3kkid skillz"
by
========
> Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
> presents
MMK: Final Fight's Guy getting hit by a football!
> A Third Universe from the Right Production
> of a
> Straight On Till Morning Film
ARL: Brought to you by Mind's Eye Theater.
> STREET FIGHTER: WARRIOR'S LEGACY
???: I tried loading a warrior on my computer, but it turned out that it was too old, and I ended up having to download some files to support it.
ARL: Oh really? What kind of files?
???: Warrior's legacy drivers.
[ALL groan.]
[Botched computer jokes? Check...]
> BATTLE 03: RAPPROCHEMENT
GAVOK: I'm not Rapprochement.
> Benjamin D. Hutchins
> MegaZone
RACE: The Coreys of the fanfiction world.
> Fight choreographer for Mr. Hoshi:
> Kris Overstreet
S.D.: Is it a name or directions?
> with the gracious assistance of The Usual Suspects
GAVOK: Old McDonald had a fic. E-I-E-I-O. And in this fic he shot some guys.
> (c) 1997 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
>
> The one Spaniard I had hit was still on the ground, and showed
> no signs of an imminent return to consciousness.
???: E's not dead, e's just resting.
RACE: You know, it's funny he didn't say "Return to his senses", what with him being a Spanish Ninja and all... [He looks around] I'll just be quiet now.
ARL: Please.
> The other one,
> however, was holding my attention fairly well on his own;
> he was fast,
> and I had to concentrate to keep from getting skewered by that silly
> sword of his.
???: Silly Spaniard and your silly sword.
ARL: What's so silly about it? Does Gryphon's skin turn aside sword blades as if they were drops of rain?... Wait, what am I saying? Of course it does.
> Not too long ago,
???: In a galaxy not too far away.
> I stepped right into the arc of one
> of those and took it away from its owner, but I was pretty drunk at
> the time.
ARL: Wow. He just retroactively booked that chick from Chapter One as being even *less* competent.
RACE: It's impressive.
ARL: Really?
RACE: Fuck no, dude. I'm being polite.
> Sober, I wasn't sure if I could do it.
S.D.: Does Gryphon need B33R in order to unlock his true powers?
RACE: I don't care, as long as he doesn't have l33t n3kkid skillz.
TBS: Try it anyway. If you screw up, hey, you can always send it to Worcester's Funniest Home Videos.
> I ducked to one
> side and weaved back as the swordsman lunged at me, once, twice,
MMK: [sings] Three times a lady...
[Um, no. It's:
MMK <singing>:
[remember?]
> again, gathering my concentration and pushing the energy into my left
> forearm. From the elbow down, that arm began to glow with a soft blue
> radiance,
ARL: Gryph must be a big hit at candy raves.
> and in another second or so, Senor Ninja was going to ride
> the lightning.
S.D. <Smiling broadly>: Huzzah!
RACE: ... bad Shady, bad.
TBS: Pregnant women and people with heart conditions should not ride the lightning.
MMK <singing>: Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die, burning in my
brain, I can feel the flames...
> That's when he feinted left and then slashed at me. The
> reaction patterns of the Icon of Stone took over
ARL <Gryphon>: And I dropped like a rock.
> from my conscious
> aversion to sharp metal objects,
???: Which is a long-winded way of saying "Ben runs with scissors"
> and again I stepped inside its arc,
> driving my upraised left forearm against the flat of the blade to push
> it out of position.
MMK: Good thing the Spaniard didn't think to twist his wrist slightly.
> The theory here was that, having accomplished
> that, I'd hold the blade away with my left and punch the guy with my
> right,
ARL: ...you know, I never realized how goofy the action in 2D fighting games would be until I saw it written out here.
[RACE, GAVOK, MMK, and TBS all mutter something that sounds like "Sorge."]
> but that turned out not to be necessary.
ARL <other Spainard>: Here. Let me punch myself out for you.
S.D. <Gryphon>: How kind.
> The moment my arm, which was still flared, touched the blade,
> there was a sharp SNAP, and my arm and hand tingled just as if I had
> thrown the Psycho Lightning I'd been preparing.
RACE <sotto voce>: The tingle tells you it's working.
> The ninja stood bolt
> upright, surprise in his eyes melting to incomprehension and then
> flickering out entirely as he slumped over backward.
S.D.: I do that whenever I see a David Lynch movie.
GAVOK: So is *that* an Electric Boogaloo?
> Little jolts of
> blue energy kept playing over his sword and his right arm for a couple
> of seconds as I looked down at him.
RACE <Gryphon>: So be it, Jedi.
ARL: Hey! You just decked Alex Rovias! You bastard!
[I'm kinda riding the line between obscure and pointless, here.]
> Hmm.
MMK <rubbing his chin>: Hmmm... Hmmm! HMMMM!
GAVOK: Blah. [Gavok's head falls off]
> It never did -that- before.
ARL: Did he just accidentally discover *another* technique?
> People have compared my
> flare effect to an electric shock, which was what led me to develop
> the Psycho Lightning's look, but metal never conducted it before.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Funny. Psycho Lightning doesn't conduct metal at our house...
> Apparently while I had been working to make it look and act more like
> electricity, I had been doing better than I thought!
ARL: So it's possible to control the properties of one's INCREDIBUL CHEE
POWURZ simply through force of will...
TBS: So theoretically, one could have a cheese danish chi blast?
ARL: Well, if you want to go by Ben's logic, then technically, yes.
TBS: I see.
[TBS pulls out a notebook, writes something down, then resumes watching the
'fic.]
> This bore
> further investigation, but right now I was thirsty
???: So first a drink, then we explode the deeper meaning of life.
> and wanted to get
> out of here before Sancho and Pancho woke up.
RACE <Gryphon>: Did I forget to mention that they were wearing giant sombreros and sitting against a wall?
> When I turned around, I saw that Zoner and Meg were long gone;
???: They got while the getting was good.
RACE <Zoner, whispering>: I think we might have lost him---
TBS <Gryphon>: Hey, guys?! Where are you! I thought the party was just getting started!
S.D. <Meg>: [Screams] He's coming!
RACE <Zoner>: Run!
> my jacket was hanging from a fire escape. I can't say that came as a
> great surprise.
RACE: Oh, leather jacket! You wacky funster!
> Reclaiming my jacket, I dropped one of my calling
> cards (the one with just the recursive G arrow)
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Because even though you're unconscious and badly beaten, you *still* probably pay too much for long distance.
> on one of the ninja (does it matter which?)
S.D.: Yes, oh heavens YES! How will I live my life without knowing on which
ninja Ben left his card??
> and continued on my way to the T, mopping at
> my forehead with the tail of my outer shirt. I wondered if the fact
> that it took two Spanish ninja and a sunny August afternoon to make me
> break a sweat would go to my head.
GAVOK: Some ninja... they didn't even wail.
> MZ
> "Will he be all right?" Meg asked, concerned. She was cute
> when she was concerned. OK, well, cuter.
S.D.: You know, to extrapolate from the Hutchinsverse lore I gained by watching "Hopelessly Lost," he's still technically cheating on Yuri *and* Sylia here.
RACE: He's just *looking*.
S.D.: Chapter ain't over yet, man.
RACE: ...point.
> She deactivated her bionics
> as we walked and returned to her street clothes.
> "He'll be fine. Two ninjas are nothing for Gryphon.
MMK: Two vikings, though, watch out.
> He's a
> street fighter, you see. I guess I should fill you in --
RACE <Zoner>: --no, up--no, I mean *in*! OH! Naughty Zoner! [slaps self]
> you want the
> long version up front or would you rather have the Cliff Notes now and
> I can fill in the blanks later?"
MMK <Zoner>: Either way, you ain't gonna believe *any* of this shit.
> I was hoping she'd choose Cliff Notes;
ARL: So were we.
> I couldn't wait to hear -her- story.
> "Well... I... Cliff Notes." Bingo.
[ALL throw Bingo cards up in the air and grumble in dissatisfaction.]
RACE: I was [holds up his pointer finger] ONE number away!
> "OK. Gryphon is a street fighter working his way up the ranks
> of the World Circuit Martial Arts Tournament Authority so that he may
> eventually bring down Shadolu, the Southeast-Asian organized crime
> syndicate.
S.D. <Meg>: ...
RACE <Zoner>: ...actually, he owns a dojo and he had a taser.
S.D. <Meg>: That's more like it.
> M. Bison, head of the whole shebang, uses his style and
> has tried to kill his master a few times.
ARL: Gryphon tried to kill his master a few times?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Hey. Wake up, asshole.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: [sleepily] Whaaaat?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel.
MMK <Gryphon's master>: What?
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You ate my fucking schnitzel!
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Well... it was in there! And if it's in there, then it's fair game.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Then maybe this is fair game! HOO-WAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: You like that? That's right. That's a karate chop! HEE-YAH!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: Jeez!
GAVOK <Gryphon>: KEE-AI!
[GAVOK hits MMK in the neck with a karate chop.]
MMK <Gryphon's master>: OW!
> Those ninjas work for one
> of the higher-ups in Shadolu
S.D.: Ricky Martin.
> and..."
> "Wait.
ARL <Meg>: I'm supposed to believe a story like this when a guy named "Zoner" is telling it?
> Ninjas? I thought ninjas wore black pajamas and
> carried little short swords -- you know, like the guy in 'Shinobi'."
> "Well, yes. But these were Spanish ninjas."
S.D. <Meg>: Okay, then. Like the Shinobi-lleros.
???: So would, say Australian ninjas wear slouch hats, thongs and carry boomerangs?
> "I... umm... see." I could tell by the look in her eyes that
> she was actually rather confused. It made her look even cuter.
ARL: Warrior's Legacy! The story that *dares* to tell you, "Hey, Meg's cute."
RACE: The real bitch of this is that "Bionic Six" was a Robotech-era cartoon. Meg looked like a guy with tits.
[Not too sure what you mean there, the girls in Robotech defitely looked like Girls - Rick who should know.]
> Technically, I don't know how that is possible, but there it was.
MMK: Well, then, there it is.
> "Don't worry, it will all become less clear as we go on.
ARL: No kidding.
> Now
> then, enough about him, let's talk about me." I said with a jaunty
> grin and an 80's tone.
RACE: Not talking about Ben... is that allowed?
> I could tell she related.
> "You're a street fighter too?"
MMK <Zoner>: Actually, I'm a Street Fighter Alpha.
> "Hell no, they'd beat the living daylights out of me.
ALL <singsong>: Happy Thought!
> I'm no
> pushover but I'm not in that class - I haven't had the training or the
> experience for it.
> No, I'm simply a master pilot, crack shot,
MMK <MegaZone>: Power Wave...
TBS <MZ>: Rising Tackle...
RACE <MZ>: Power Geyser...
GAVOK <MZ>: Ridiculously flamboyant superhero with the power to animate
cheese...
> and
> agent provocateur. I work for the NSA, sometimes the CIA, but I
> prefer working on Her Majesty's Secret Service.
ARL <Meg>: But you're not Brit--
RACE <Zoner>: SILENCE, designated cartoon booty!
> You could call me a freelance spy."
ARL <Zoner>: But the kids in highschool called me Stinky.
RACE: So if he was named Sluggy, would that make him Sluggy Fr--
ARL: No.
[A pause.]
ARL: Well... no.
> Meg eyed me in disbelief.
> "I'm quite serious." How would she react?
RACE: YOU MAKE THE CALL!
> "Hmm, sounds interesting."
> "I guess that's one way to look at it."
> Ah, she laughed. It was a good sign. No screaming. No
> fleeing. No backing up several feet and looking around for a cop.
> And laughter. Cute laughter. The kind of laughter that
GAVOK: --lets you eat the fries off of its plate.
> reaches
> around and does a little dance up your spine.
S.D.: MegaZone was later found dead, his spine pulverized. Tragically, nobody
mentioned to him the fact that the laughter was doing the little dance on
Maniac until it was too late.
> I shivered. I wanted a
> bottle of that laugh, a big bottle, with lots of ice. And a chaser.
> And a lemon twist - no, make it a lime. With one of those little
> twisty straws. And a paper umbrella.
ARL: Okay... this is starting to disturb me.
RACE <Squidward>: And if there's anything else you want, PLEASE hesitate to ask!
> I was going off on a tangent.
> It's possible I was out of control.
ARL: Okay, why did I just get the mental image of MegaZone rampaging
through MegaTokyo?
S.D.: Funny you should mention Zoner in MegaTokyo...
> "Is that really what you do?" she asked, having regained
> control of her lungs.
???: She did a buy-out of most of the major shareholders.
> "Honestly yes. That is really what I do. I was being a bit
> absurd, and I don't think I've actually started any wars - well,
> except... Never mind.
MMK <MegaZone>: Remember the Bay of Pigs? ME, baby!
> Yes, I'm really a spy.
TBS: He's a world-famous secret agent!
GAVOK <Guard>: Hey, aren't you Megazone?
MMK <Zoner>: [Smiles] Why, yes I am!
GAVOK <Guard>: Wow! I'm a big fan!
MMK <Zoner>: Really?
GAVOK <Guard>: My kids aren't going to believe me when I tell them I saw you at work today! Can I have your autograph? Please!
MMK <Zoner>: [Mimes signing something] Here you go. Tell them hi for me, won't you?
GAVOK <Guard>: [Take it back] Sure thing Megazone!
MMK <Zoner>: It was nice meeting you. [Turn around and starts walking away]
GAVOK <Guard>: I'm really sorry about this, but I'm still going to have to shoot you.
MMK <Zoner>: Well... crap.
> I do freelance work
> mostly. I fly things where they need to be flown. I don't ask too
> many questions and I charge outrageous rates.
???: So next time you need to get weapons-grade Plutonium out of the country and it has to be there without those bothersome customs officials getting in your way, Zoner's your man!
> Deniability has a
> price. Trailing Edge Air Lines, when it absolutely, positively has to
> get there - wherever 'there' is. No job is too big, no -fee- is too
> big.
[Isn't he 'borrowing' this line off of Ghostbusters? I'm sure I remember Peter saying that. I'm sure that deserves some small form of tribute here... - Alair]
> And yes, sometimes I've had to kill people, but you never really
> enjoy that.
RACE <Zoner>: Well I did, but that was a Menudo concert and had nothing to do with my work.
GAVOK <Zoner>: There was that time I crash landed my plane into the orphanage, but I *really* had to go and I didn't enjoy it, not one little bit!
> It is part of the job, a part I'd rather forget."
TBS <Zoner>: In fact, what job? Who are you? Who am I?
S.D. <Meg>: I'm Meg. You're Zoner.
TBS <Zoner>: Hi Meg, I'm Zoner!
> OK,
> so, there were a few people who I would gleefully kill again, and a
> few people who weren't dead yet that I'd cheerfully make that way,
> given the opportunity.
MMK <MegaZone>: But I wouldn't enjoy it. No sir ree.
> But there was no sense in scaring her off with
> my dark, anti-heroic moral ambiguity so soon.
???: Scaring her off? Heck, say "bub" every few words and you're a best seller.
> "I hang out with
> Gryphon because I enjoy the travel, I enjoy watching the fights, and
S.D. <Zoner>: --- the vibrantly romantic sunsets, arm in arm, side by side...
> he needs someone to watch his back..."
> "And?"
[* ? *]
> "And... He's a damn good friend and I'd hate myself if
> anything every happened to him.
S.D.: Oh, so you're "just friends?" Tch, guys are always "just friends."
You'd feel better about it if you just came out and told each other the
truth...
> Shadolu doesn't go easy on those who
> oppose them. OK, OK, so I'm one of those sensitive new age guys. A
> crunchy shell with a soft, chewy center."
TBS <MegaZone>: I'm like a stale Cadbury egg!
MMK <MegaZone>: I'm like an overcooked biscuit!
ARL <MegaZone>: I'm like a cockroach!
S.D. <MegaZone>: I'm like a jar of Play-Doh!
> I need new metaphors.
> "That's OK. I sort of like guys like that. My dad is a lot
> like that, in an old kind of way."
> "Speaking of which... Do you parents know you go around
> transforming into a super-hero?
??? <Meg>: They've got nothing against it as long as I'm home before ten.
> Or is this a whoops-I've-blown-my-
> secret-identity moment? Let me guess, you needed a little extra money
> for college and you answered an ad in the paper. Next thing you knew
> you were all metallic." She looked momentarily taken aback, then she
> broke.
TBS: Wind.
MMK: Page Break strikes again!
> "Nah. Turns out my dad was an agent for the Office of
> Scientific Intelligence.
ALL: SCIENCE!
> He was a cyborg superspy too. We never knew
> about it. All we knew was that he was an astronaut and he had to
> travel a lot."
> Something tickled at the back of my mind that felt like the
> beginning of recognition, but I put it aside;
MMK <Freemedicalcare>: Ooh! I just had a thought. [pause] Lost it. Slippery little buggers.
> I had other things I
> needed to know. "So how did you end up like this? It certainly isn't
> genetic."
??? <Meg>: Actually, it was. Dad was a cyborg spy, mum was a toaster overn.
> "Well, we're all adopted anyway. But no, it isn't. We were
> on vacation when Dad was attacked.
ARL <Meg>: Mother asked us if we were bad enough dudes to save our father.
GAVOK: From evil Turkish Ninjas?
ARL: ... sure, why not?
> We all got caught in the attack.
> He was fine, being bionic and all, but the rest of us went into a
> coma. The only way to save us was to bionicize all of us.
S.D. <Meg>: He said he could make us better, stronger--
RACE <Zoner>: Okay, I get it!
> That's how
> I became Rock-1."
> Wham.
RACE: Biff!
GAVOK: Socko!
TBS: Fnord!
S.D. <Meg>: Did you like that? ... because here comes Rock-2! [She smacks her fist against her palm and mutters] Did you really expect me to buy that whole 'Spanish Ninja' story?
> It all came flooding back.
GAVOK <Zoner>: And from then on out I couldn't get that "Wake me up before you Go-Go" song out of my head.
> In one dizzying blipvert
> moment I remembered the news reports, the massive fights, the Trapper
> Keeper I used to have -- the Bionic Six! The really cute one. How do
> *you* spell awkward?
TBS: R-o-l-a-i-d-s.
S.D. <darkly>: However I darn well please.
> I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall back in
> New York. In fact, it's probably still there. No, I do *not* plan on
> telling her that. Not now, anyway.
RACE <MegaZone>: Hey! I have a poster of you on my bedroom wall back in New York! In fact, it's probably still the-... oh, crap.
> "I remember you!" Not smooth. "I mean, I remember seeing
> you, the whole family, on the news. You used to fight that Shadolu
> mad scientist...
???: So in Ben's little world, every villain workes for Bison?
???: It makes about as much sense as Shredder's Zombie working for Gannon, or Iczer-2 for Largo, I guess.
> Doctor whatshisname? Scallop? Scallion?
> Scaramouche? Oh what was it?"
MMK <Harry>: Samsonite!
GAVOK <Lloyd>: See, I knew it started with an S.
> She barely contained her giggles.
> Cute giggles.
> "Scarab." We had arrived at the station. We descended into
> the dark underbelly of the city.
TBS: Luckily for them, the city has an innie.
> "Right! Dr. Scarab. What ever happened to him? I haven't
> seen you guys in years."
> Ow. Looked like I hit some kind of nerve. Her face closed up
> like a bagel shop on Yom Kippur.
[* This looks like as good a spot as any to introduce the Racial Slurs Drinking Game. *]
> "He's dead," she said at length. "He tried some kind of
> ultimate superweapon of doom a few years back and it backfired.
ARL: They reversed the polarity, didn't they?
RACE: They *always* reverse the polarity!
MMK <writing on a pad of paper>: Note to self: Change superweapon to AC power.
> Last
> we saw of him and his goons they were sucked into a singularity."
???: Signualrities suck.
[I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me - Rick R.]