"Isn't it ironic? Don't you think? A little too ironic... And yeah, I really do think..." -Alanis Morrisette "TING-A-LING, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" -Kurt Vonnegut qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Self-Extraction, In Which Mary Sue Meets Smith And Wesson, And Carnage Ensues Chapter 10: Ill Fating Created by Thomas Wilde, Raphael Russell and Quanah S. Harjo This chapter by Quanah S. Harjo and W4 qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #PM9598* Carver is a seasoned professional in his field. He prides himself on not letting anything faze him; one moment of surprise is all his opponent would need to turn the tables on him. And yet... "I don't believe this," Carver mutters. Carver had spent the better part of the day on recon, trying to find out where Shawn "Top Trainer" Morton was with little success. When he met up with his clients, Jessie handed him an invitation that was sent to her by Dragonite. It was from Top Trainer himself. Carver read it aloud: Dear Friends, I apologize for causing you distress and wish to make amends. I invite you to my new restaurant, "All Good Things," for one complimentary dinner. I promise you a savory meal that you will never forget. The address of my new establishment is 5656 Topeka Omen Lane. I await your arrival. Sincerely, Top Trainer. Carver blinks at the sheer audacity of his target. "It's got to be a trap," Carver, Ash, Misty, Tracy, Jessie and James say in unison. Carver stops and thinks. His first instinct is to put wires on his clients and send them to the restaurant. This plan involves Carver lying in wait with a sniper rifle, waiting for just the right moment to give Top Trainer's head some much-needed ventilation. He hesitates for a moment, wondering if it is worth risking his clients' safety to use them as decoys. "WAAAAH!" Misty shouts, her head growing up to ten times its normal size. "If that jerk thinks that he can steal my Psyduck and pay for it with one dinner, then he's got another thing coming!" Ash poses dramatically, extending his forearm to the heavens. "Pikachu, I will rescue you! That I promise!" Jessie and James copy Ash's pose and stand behind him. "And that goes double for you, Meowth!" Jessie adds. "We'll give him double trouble!" James promises. Tracy sits and draws the reaction of the other four. Carver no longer worries about the safety of his clients. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #MA9799* Kathleen Hale walks away from the duel, gritting her teeth. She wants very badly to fire more shots at SuperDuelist, preferably with guns and ammunition that could lay waste to a tank. Failing that, she would like to grab a sword and slay SuperDuelist the old-fashioned way. Neither option is viable. This is thanks to one Akio Ohtori, the client of Hale and Taylor. "Do you understand it either?" Hale asks Taylor in frustration. "He says that he wants SuperDuelist out of the picture, but then he gives us a virtual bookload of rules and requests that we absolutely must obey. What is the deal here?!?" Taylor shakes his head. "I don't have a clue," he admits. "According to him, the only people that can get into that weird arena thing are specially-designated 'Duelists'... say, how about you signing up to be a Duelist?" "That's a negative. I'm married," Taylor immediately responds, secretly hoping in the back of his mind that Hale's luck doesn't cause her to realize that he's lying to her. "Besides," he added, "If either of us did that, *WE'D* get sucked into this Ohtori Academy mess and make ourselves targets to boot." Hale sighs and grumbles, "I hate dead-ends." Taylor responds, "At least nobody saw us, so we can try again-" "-and have her bat away the bullets like flies again!" Hale snaps. She takes a deep breath. "I... I'm sorry. I'm just a bit testy. I think we need to think this through a bit. And preferably away from this living drug trip that poses as a school." Taylor nods. "What did you have in mind?" he asks. Hale concentrates for a few seconds. As if being compelled by some unknown force, she blurts out, "Let's give Marie a call." "...excuse me?" Taylor blurts out. "Call Marie," Hale repeats. "I think she'll be able to help us out." Taylor pulls out a cell phone, dials Marie's number and passes the phone to Hale. He tries to listen to their conversation, but all he can make out is Hale's side of the conversation, which consists of her saying, "Uh-huh..." frequently. "Okay. Tell you what... we'll take care of it," Hale says as she hangs up the phone. "Take care of what?" Taylor asks, irritated. "We're already on a case here!" Hale nods. "And I'm not giving up on it, either. In fact, what you just said gave me an idea about how we can kill two birds with one stone." Confused, Taylor asks, "Something I said?" "Yes. Get the car. We're heading back to the office. I'll explain on the way." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #PM9598* "It looks like a goddamn fast-food joint," Carver thinks to himself. He looks down on on the building at 5656 Topeka Omen lane from his perch atop a nearby Pokemon Center. To Carver, it looks like someone took what could have been a decent-looking building in which one could run an eating establishment and turned it into an eyesore. The building itself is an odd mix of chartreuse and mauve; the pattern looks as if it were fingerpainted. Its main sign was a bright yellow smiley-face with the words "All Good Things" under it as if written in crayon. Carver muses that either this establishment was built in a hurry, or Top Trainer contracted Miss Welsh's kindergarten class. Static hisses briefly from his earphone. He focuses his binoculars and gets visual contact with his clients. The inside of the building appears to still be under construction. There is no paint on the walls, only one cash register, one table with six seats and a tarp on the floor. Carver listens to the proceedings... qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Top Trainer is not what Ash and his friends were expecting. They are expecting a kid, most likely the same age as Ash, Misty and Tracy, dressed either as a punk or as some stereotypical villain. What they see is a preteen dressed up as a chef. His black hair is held back in a hairnet. He wears a white apron with several colorful splotches. Beneath the apron are a white t-shirt and black pants. And instead of a smug grin or a panicked expression, he looks geniunely happy to see the people whose Pokemon he filched. "You're just in time!" he says. "The main course is ready! Have a seat, and I'll bring the meal right out!" Ash and company are completely stunned. Out of sheer surprise, they take their seats, looking at each other and wondering if their host is for real. "Ash," Misty whispers. "Don't you think this is strange?" Ash nods. Tracy pulls out his sketchpad and draws the interior of the restaurant. "Well, I'm sure we can try to talk about it during the meal. Right, Ash?" A solemn look crosses Ash's face. "I..." Ash mutters. Jessie, James, Misty and Tracy lean in to hear. "I... I..." Ash continues. The other four wait with baited breath. Ash stands up and slams his hands on the table. "I'm hungry! When is he coming out with the food?" he cries. The other four lose their balance and hit the ground face-first. Misty springs up, her face a dark shade of red, and proceeds to pummel Ash with wild abandon. Top Trainer emerges from the kitchen, pushing a covered cart before him. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" he laughs, showing genuine embarassment. He uncovers the cart and stars putting plates of food on the table. His guests stare at the food with shimmering eyes and wide smiles. "Ceasar Salad!" James announces. Jessie yells, "Cherries Jubilee!" "Haggis!" Tracy cheers. Misty takes a giant sniff. "Cordon bleu," she sighs. "T-bone steak..." Ash happily mutters as drool runs down his chin. Top Trainer smiles warmly. "Please... dig in," he says. Ash and company do exactly that. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Carver doesn't know whether to find it infuriating or amusing that the possibility of poisoning never seemed to cross their minds. He mentally shrugs to himself as he continues to watch and listen. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq "That was dee-lish!" Ash proclaims as he roughly wipes his face with his napkin, balls it up and places it on the plate before him. Top Trainer tries to not look stunned. They devoured the feast he had prepared in a matter of seconds. Jessie sighs and remarks, "I haven't eaten that well since... well... I've never eaten that well!" "My compliments to the chef!" James cheers. Misty reclines in her chair and sighs contentedly. "Yeah. That was the best..." Misty suddenly remembers why she and the others are there. "HEY!" she yells as she throttles Top Trainer. "We didn't come here to pig out! We came here to get our Pokemon back!" Top Trainer tries to release himself from Misty's grip. "All in due time..." he coughs out, his face turning blue. "If you'd let me explain..." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Carver raises an eyebrow. He is accustomed to his targets being two steps shy of invincible. But unless Top Trainer is a damn good actor, he's getting choked to death by an ornery ten-year-old girl. He makes a note of this as he continues his watch. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Ash, Jessie and James manage to pry Misty off of Top Trainer. Tracy sits in his char and illustrates the scuffle. Top Trainer feels his neck and resumes normal breathing. "If you'll all have a seat, I'll explain why I called you here," he states, still a bit winded from the throttling. Reluctantly, Misty takes her seat. Everyone else sits as well. Top Trainer fiddles with a fork and remarks, "I've a business proposition for the five of you. As you may have guessed, I am planning on opening a chain of restaurants here." Ash and company blink in confusion. "I specialize," Top Trainer explains, "In unique and exotic cuisine. I feel that this area would be the ideal place to set up shop. And I would like you to be my business partners." Ash and company favor Top Trainer with blank stares. "...hah?" Ash replies. "I can see it now!" Jessie proclaims. "Jessie and James: the newest, brightest, sexiest team to hit the advertising market!" Jessie and James leap towards the doorway and pose. Sinister- sounding music in the key of A minor fills the room. "To sell the world on the open market!" Jessie yells. "To find the finest gear and hock it!" James adds. "To fuel your desire to go out and shop!" "To max out your credit cards until they pop!" "Jessie!" "James!" "Team Rocket will sell you food that's nice!" "Order now for a low, low, price!" "WITH BEANS AND RICE!" Top Trainer politely applauds. Ash, Misty and Tracy give Team Rocket their usual stares of disbelief. "WAIT A MINUTE!" Misty hollers, nearly shattering Carver's eardrum. "What about our Pokemon?" Top Trainer's smile changes from genuinely happy to slightly sadistic. "Well... remember when I told you that I specialize in unique and exotic cusine?" "Yeah? So?" Misty snaps at Top Trainer. "Well," Top Trainer continues. "There's no cuisine out there that is more unique than Pokemon cuisine." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Carver's stomach gives off sympathy pains. He mutters, "I am dealing with one. Sick. Fuck." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #MGS648674* One year ago, on this world, a genetically-enhanced group of super-soldiers, FOX-HOUND, seized control of a covert nuclear weapons base in Alaska. Said base created Metal Gear, the most terrifying weapon their world has ever known. Fortunately, their plans were foiled by a lone warrior, Solid Snake, who singlehandedly destroyed Metal Gear and killed FOX-HOUND's leader, Liquid Snake. Now, FOX-HOUND is back. But there are significant changes. The first noteable difference is that they now call themselves FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS. Second, it is no longer a group of genetically-enhanced super-soldiers. It is a group of four teenage boys who hold a myriad of powers and relics that are unheard-of in that world. Third, they do not seek to improve their genes, get nuclear arms or rebuild Metal Gear. They strive to steal women's undergarments and engage in voyueristic activities. Fourth, their leader is not Big Boss, Liquid Snake, Revolver Ocelot or anyone even remotely attached to FOX-HOUND. The leader is known only as "Odiferous Muskrat." And last but definitely not least, Solid Snake does not triumph over FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS. He is captured. Reports say that he is currently being spanked for being such a naughty boy. At wits' end, Retired Colonel Roy Campbell calls the Agency with two requests: 1) Rescue Solid Snake 2) Destroy FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS Campbell asks for the Agency's two best agents. He is less than enthusiastic when he hears that Carniverous Squirrel and Machinegun Dung-Beetle are on the case. Said agents, wearing special sneaking suits that Colonel Campbell claimed were "made from currently-existing technology," are currently observing the headquarters of FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS, which is on a beach in Waikiki, Hawaii. All four of them are inside, taking turns passing around the spoils of their recent panty raids and paddling Solid Snake, who is, for reasons only God would know, dressed in a fuku. "Our main target is their leader, Odiferous Muskrat," Dung-Beetle hoarsely whispers. "His three compatriots are nothing more than his imaginary friends come to life. If we take out the leader, we take out FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS." "It isn't that simple," Squirrel adds. "We're talking about one seriously juiced-up troll here. Besides, we've already got a plan." Dung-Beetle grumbles, "I don't like it. I've got a bad feeling about it." "If you want to rush in there, guns blazing, then it's your funeral," Squirrel snaps. Dung-Beetle sighs. "It's not that. It's just... there's a lot about this plan that I just don't get." "Like what?" Squirrel asks. Dung-Beetle answers, "Well... for example... Why am I stuck with the codename, 'Machinegun Dung-Beetle?,' Hale? Do you enjoy tormenting your mentors?" Carniverous Squirrel aka Kathleen Hale stifles a giggle. "Nope," she replies. "But apparently, Marie does. Besides, do you think I *LIKE* 'Carniverous Squirrel?'" "So why the codenames?!?" Taylor/Dung-Beetle snaps impatiently. "Simple," Hale/Squirrel responds. "They're a ruse to fool Jake Zoorhyme, otherwise known as 'Odiferous Lemur' into believing that we're on his side." No matter how many times Hale/Squirrel explains this to Taylor/Dung-Beetle, the rational part of his mind refuses to follow along with it. "Let's go over this ONE more time," he commands. Hale/Squirrel nods and proceeds. "Here's the plan. You go to FOX-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS's headquarters and make your presence known peacefully. Say that you want to talk to Odiferous Lemur. Show him the picture of the sword-bellied girl and explain to him that we'll lead him to her in exchange for the release of Solid Snake. While you do this, I'll cover you in case things get messy." "Now wait a minute," Taylor/Dung-Beetle interjects. "How about YOU go down there and let ME cover you?" "That won't work," Hale/Squirrel bluntly states. Taylor/Dung-Beetle quickly replies, "What? Don't you trust me?" Hale/Squirrel turns to answer her new mentor and finds herself gazing quizically at him. When she regains her wits, she responds, "That's not it. Think of it like this... if I go down there waving the white flag, they'll frisk me, no questions asked. Also, this whole pitch will sound more believable coming from a fellow male than it would from a female." "...you have a point," Taylor/Dung-Beetle begrudgingly admits. "Don't worry," Hale/Squirrel assures Taylor/Dung-Beetle. "If he and his 'imaginary friends' try anything, I've enough smoke bombs and stun grenades to give us a decided advantage." Taylor/Dung-Beetle chuckles, "And then we can use good old-fashioned machineguns to take care of the rest?" "Personally, I'd find it a fitting end to strangle him with some of the panties he stole," Hale/Squirrel admits, "But this plan will have a similar result if it works. Just don't forget to use your codename, Machinegun Dung-Beetle." Taylor/Dung-Beetle groans. He then heads to the base of FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS and knocks on its front door. "Who goes there?" a voice shouts. "And are you cute?" a second adds. Taylor/Dung-Beetle grits his teeth. "I wish to hire your leader to embark on a mission," he states. "Yawn. Not interested," a third voice nonchalantly replies. Taylor/Dung-Beetle turns around and loudly mutters, "I guess I'll have to find someone else to rescue the pretty female hostage. Perh-" A gust of wind blows by Taylor/Dung-Beetle. Hale/Squirrel, in her vantage point, recognizes it as Odiferous Muskrat and establishes an aim on her target's skull. Said target stops in front of Taylor/Dung-Beetle. Odiferous Muskrat is an all-too-fiiting name for the leader of FOXY-LADY-HORNY-HOUNDS. He is dressed in a black stealth suit that might possibly have never been washed. His blonde hair is oily, and his face is marked with acne. Between fidgets and twitching, he is always in a state of motion. He leers at Taylor/Dung-Beetle like a starving man would look at a portly aristocrat carrying two T-bone steaks. "D-d-d-did you s-s-say, 'Female Hostage?!?'" Odiferous Muskrat excitedly blurts out. Taylor/Dung-Beetle nods, mentally preparing to kick his bullshitting abilities into high gear. "I, like you, represent an agency of specially-trained warriors that perform special and unique missions." Odiferous Muskrat nods and twitches. "B-b-black ops?" he asks. "In a sense, yes," Taylor/Dung-Beetle replies. "At the moment, though, we are at our wits' end." Taylor/Dung-Beetle shows Odiferous Muskrat a picture of Anthy Himemiya. "This important lady is being held hostage by a depraved criminal known only as 'SuperDuelist.' We sent three agents to retrieve the hostage. SuperDuelist sent them back to us in twenty-seven pieces." "S-s-so..." Odiferous Muskrat says. "You w-w-want me and my b-b-boys to go and save her?" Taylor/Dung-Beetle shakes his head. "Not quite," he answers. "This is a solo mission. Only you will be going in." "B-b-but..." Odiferous Muskrat stammers. "You see," Taylor continues, "We received a challenge from SuperDuelist. Specifically, she wishes to engage in a swordfight with one of us. If we win, then we get the hostage back, and SuperDuelist agrees to surrender. But if we lose or refuse, then the hostage will die." Odiferous Muskrat frowns. Taylor/Dung-Beetle, recognizing Odiferous Muskrat's waning interest, shows Odiferous Muskrat another picture. "The raven-haired lady," he explains. "Is SuperDuelist." Odiferous Muskrat drools. "And the p-p-pink-haired one?" "One of our... ex-agents," Taylor/Dung-Beetle sighs. "DUDE! It's a ch-ch-chickfest! I'm SO THERE!" Odiferous Muskrat shouts enthusiastically. Taylor/Dung-Beetle gives Hale/Squirrel an "OK" signal. Hale carries her sniper-rifle pointed at the ground as she approaches the other two. "W-w-who's that?" Odiferous Muskrat asks. Taylor/Dung-Beetle answers, "That is Carniverous Squirrel." Odiferous Muskrat drools some more. "She's p-p-pretty..." he notes. Taylor/Dung-Beetle gives a cruel smirk. "Y'know what they say about squirrels, right?" "THEY EAT NUTS!" Odiferous Muskrat shouts excitedly. Hale/Squirrel favors both Taylor/Dung-Beetle and Odiferous Muskrat with a harsh gaze. "If you two are done pals-ing around, we should be going. Sedate him, Machinegun Dung-Beetle." Taylor/Dung-Beetle nods and injects a syringe in the back of Odiferous Muskrat's neck. "W-w-whu..." he mumbles as he loses consciousness. Taylor/Dung-Beetle catches him. "Here. Hold this," he requests of Hale/Squirrel. "I need to call our ride back." Hale roughly grabs Odiferous Muskrat. "You two were wrong," she comments. "Huh?" Taylor/Dung-Beetle asks as the car appears before them. "We crack nuts open." ".....oh." Neither the unconscious Odiferous Muskrat nor Taylor/Dung-Beetle say much on their way back to Ohtori Academy. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #PM9598* "Y... y... YOU COOK AND EAT POKEMON?!?" Ash and company shout. Top Trainer crosses his arms and nods. "The Ceasar Salad..." James gasps. "Seasoned Meowth strips served in decilately-arranged Bulbasaur lettuce." James finds a bucket and proceeds to empty out his stomach in it. Jessie murmurs, "The Cherries Jubilee..." Top Trainer answers, "Boiled Clefairies. I don't think you want me to tell you what the cherries were, my lady." Jessie kicks James into a corner and proceeds to empty out her stomach in the bucket. "The haggis?" Tracy asks weakly. "The haggis," Top Trainer answers, "was Meowth intestines, oatmeal and other odd bits cooked up in the Meowth's stomach." Tracy falls forward and loses consciousness. "The cordon bleu?" Misty asks through tears. "A Psyduck sandwich stuffed with Lapras," Top Trainer answers. Misty faints and lands on top of Tracy. Ash looks incredulously at Top Trainer. "The T-bone steak?" Top Trainer responds, "Prime-cut Pikachu." Ash stares blankly at Top Trainer. For one minute, the only sound in the restaurant is Team Rocket's upchucking. "You... you...," Ash gasps. "You... cooked our Pokemon... and served them to us... and WATCHED... as we ate them." Top Trainer nods, showing absolutely no remorse. "The more willful or powerful a Pokemon is, the more it delights the taste buds," he explains matter-of-factly. "Pikachu..." Ash starts as he balls up a fist. A tear runs down his cheek. "...he was more than just a Pokemon. He... he was my friend! We did almost everything together... and now he's gone..." "Yes," Top Trainer admits. "But he was delicious, wasn't he?" Ash grits his teeth. "Well, yeah..." he confesses. "And this world is FILLED with Pokemon, isn't it?" Ash answers, "Yeah, but..." Top Trainer snickers in amusement. "But nothing!" he exclaims. "We are humans. They are animals. They are plants. Humans eat animals. Humans eat plants. You see... it's completely natural to want to eat them. It's no different than eating a hamburger or a house salad." "But Pikachu was my..." "*kzzrt* Leave now," Carver instructs Ash and company through their link. Ash gives no sign of acknowledging Carver's instructions. "HE WAS MY FRIEND!" Ash shouts. He drags Misty and Tracy out of the restaurant, his eyes wet with tears. Jessie and James look at Ash dragging his friends out of the restaurant. The desire to rip Top Trainer's arms off and beat him to death with them takes second place to the desire to get their stomachs pumped. "Looks like Team Rocket's dragging themselves to the hospital again," they murmur weakly. Top Trainer shrugs to himself and locks up the restaurant. He had hoped that things would have gone better than they did. He chuckles to himself as he recalls Ash reluctantly admitting that he found Pikachu to be delicious. All things considered, things went as he expected. "They'll protest at first," he thinks to himself, "But before too long, they'll soon be saying, 'Gotta Eat 'Em All!'" A loud click brings his focus back to his surroundings. He feels a gun pressed against his head. Carver snarls, "Adios, you sorry son of a b-" Top Trainer's career as a Pokemon chef comes to a violent end. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #MA9799* While Taylor tends to Odiferous Muskrat, who was awakened with another injection and had no fewer than twenty questions, Hale rushed to Akio Ohtori's office. She finds it odd that the door is slightly ajar. "My sister... don't..." Akio's voice hangs in the air. Hale pulls out a handgun and prepares to burst into the room. "One... two..." she mentally counts to herself. "THREE!" Hale enters the room and instinctively takes aim at the first two people she sees. They are Akio Ohtori and Anthy Himemiya. They are in a romantic embrace. There is not a scrap of clothing between them. "What the FUCK?!?" Hale shouts out. Anthy looks at Akio and emotionally says, "I thought you said you locked the door." "It must have slipped my mind," Akio responds without so much as a hint of guilt or embarassment. At this point, neither one is looking at Hale. Hale lowers her weapon and takes a deep breath. "Oh-kay," she mutters. "So you're aristocratic rednecks. Fine. Whatever. I'll just take one of those rose signets and be on my merry way." Hale now has Akio's full attention. "Rose signets?" he repeats, concern evident on his face. Hale nods. "Thanks to both SuperDuelist's abilities and your crummy rules, we can't beat her directly," she explains. "But we found a decoy that will distract her as he duels her." "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Akio shouts. "I will not have you interfering with my plans!" Hale walks up to Akio. It is a credit to Akio's chutzpah that he neither hides nor back down to her. She gets up to his face and firmly states, "Listen to me, you lanky, incestuous, drug-tripping worm! You can play whatever reindeer games you damn well please once my partner and I finish our job. And we may have to handle this delicately so you can have your fractured fairy-tale. But you seem to forget, pal, that YOU came to US because YOU couldn't fix things yourself. So either hand over one of those rings, or we'll split and leave you at the mercy of SuperDuelist, who must be some masochist if she decided to come here voluntarily!" Akio is shocked. He hasn't been tongue-lashed like that in about a century. "...I..." he starts. "AND PUT SOME GODDAMN CLOTHES ON!" Hale shouts. Akio walks off, favoring Hale with a dirty look. Anthy Himemiya looks at Kathleen Hale and smiles. "Why didn't you duel her yourself?" Anthy asks. "Wha?" Hale asks, stunned. Anthy looks down slightly and continues, "I can tell just by looking at you that you possess impressive abilities. You could have dueled her yourself." "And get engaged to you? No thanks. Besides," Hale responds with a roll of her eyes. "You seem to be spoken for." "But the sword of Dios-" "-isn't worth it. No thanks," Hale snaps as she snatches the rose signet from the now-dressed Akio. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #PM9598* The next morning, Carver finds himself beside Ash, Misty, Tracy, Jessie and James. They face four tombstones. Everyone but Carver is dressed in black and crying. "Oh, Meowth!" Jessie shouts to the heavens. "We hardly knew thee!" James sobs, "And yet... some part of you will always be with us, forever stuck between our gums. Farewell, old friend!" Jessie and James embrace each other as they sob profusely. Misty dabs her eyes with a handkerchief. "I'll never forget his last words to me," she laments. "He said, 'Psy! Psy-yai-yai!'" Tracy draws the tombstones between fits of crying. Ash stands there, completely silent. Carver, who thinks himself as the last person on this Earth or any other that could comfort people in times like this, turns around and walks away. A limo pulls up before him. The rear window rolls down. "Nice work, Mr. Carver. You removed this 'Top Trainer' threat. And, as an added bonus, I can use my subordinates' vulnerability to mold them into agents that are TRULY worthy of the name, 'Team Rocket.'" Carver gives no reaction to this. The man inside the limo hands Carver two checks, both having the signature, "Giovanni." One is the fee for the removal of Top Trainer. "What's this other one?" he asks. Giovanni smiles darkly. "Let's just say that it's a bonus for helping me retrain Jessie and James." Carver pockets the first check. He takes the second check and leans into the open window. "You can take this bonus," Carver sternly remarks as he shoves the check in Giovanni's mouth. "And fellate it." Carver walks off, paying no attention to the limo that leaves in a hurry. A few minutes later, he calls for his car. When it appears before him, he hops in and drives off, unseen by all. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq After Carver leaves... "What if he's right?" Ash asks his companions. "What if there IS nothing wrong with eating Pokemon?" "...you can't be serious!" Misty gasps. Ash's gaze is fixed on Pikachu's tombstone. He says, "Well, we all enjoyed that meal so much until we realized what it was. There wasn't anything wrong with eating it until after the fact." "Harumph!" James scoffs. "I'd rather starve than eat a Pokemon! Let's go Jessie." Jessie nods, and Team Rocket walks away. Tracy idly sketches the "All Good Things" restaurant. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #MA9799* Taylor watches as Odiferous Muskrat climbs the seemingly-infinite spiral staircase that leads to the dueling arena. SuperDuelist and Anthy await the new duelist's arrival. Hale puts her hand on Taylor's shoulder, applies a faint amount of pressure, releases it and prepares to take aim. "You look like you've seen a ghost," Taylor whispers. "Nope. Just Miss Rose Bride having sex with our client and her brother," she matter-of-factly states. Taylor staggers and points his rifle skyward. "...you're kidding!" he hisses. "Not one bit!" Hale responds. "Unless you want to pick up the payment, I say we let him wire it to us and get the hell out of here once we've disposed of these two." Odiferous Muskrat arrives on the arena. He leers happily at both the Rose Bride and at his opponent. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Hale? Killing off one of these superpowered freaks is hard enough..." Taylor ponders. The Rose Bride pins a white rose on SuperDuelist. Hale answers, "That's only if they work together. I'm sure that these two will be like water and oil." The Rose Bride pins a pink rose on Odiferous Muskrat. He cops a feel. She doesn't seem to mind. "What makes you think that?" Taylor asks. The Rose Bride announces, "The first person to knock the rose off his or her opponent is the victor and engaged to the Rose Bride." "C-C-COOL!" Odiferous Muskrat shouts as he leers at both ladies. Hale replies, "It's just a matter of human nature. You have SuperDuelist; she sees herself as this honrable, noble swordfighter. And then, way the hell on the other end of the scale is Odiferous Muskrat; he's a mercenary and a raging pervert to boot." SuperDuelist pulls the Sword of Dios from its sheath. This would have been far less interesting if said sheath wasn't the torso of the Rose Bride. "...that red dress must cover up the bloodstains, I guess," Taylor muses. "Well, Hale... I hope, for our sakes, that this gambit works out. If it doesn't, we're both boned." Hale looks over to Taylor. "What's wrong? Don't you trust-" Hale pauses. For a second, she gives Taylor's face a look of deep concentration. "I WANT THAT ROSE!" Odiferous Muskrat shouts. He lunges at SuperDuelist with his bare hands, trying to grab and grope his opponent. Hale and Taylor take aim and watch the fight. SuperDuelist is on the defense, weaving and strafing to avoid Odiferous Muskrat's lusty barrage. Her counterattacks are messy sword swipes which Odiferous Muskrat dodges with ease. This continues for minutes. Neither one relents. SuperDuelist and Odiferous Muskrat leap back. Unseen by all, an image of a violet-haired prince floats down from the upside-down castle and overlaps with SuperDuelist. She floats up and faces Odiferous Muskrat with determination. Odiferous Muskrat pulls out a pair of panties, takes a deep whiff, and discards them. His expression is one of seriousness and unwaivering will. Their eyes meet. They rush past each other. They pause to catch their breath. Odiferous Muskrat notices that he lost his rose. It was cleanly cut off of his sneaking suit. SuperDuelist notices that she lost her rose. In addition, she appears to be missing her shirt and pants as well. The Rose Bride looks alarmed. "Who was first?" she gasps as if her life is on the line. "Who c-c-cares?!?" Odiferous Muskrat shouts. "I g-g-got to see her g-g-goodies!" SuperDuelist's face turns beet red. She throws the Sword of Dios down and rushes at Odiferous Muskrat. "YOU PERVERT!" she shouts as she punts him into low orbit. Odiferous Muskrat lands on his face and twitches for two seconds before collapsing in a heap. He staggers to his feet. "GIVE ME BACK MY CLOTHES!" SuperDuelist demands as she throttles Odiferous Muskrat. He attempts to flail and grab to defend himself. "I can't believe that a jerk like you fought me to a draw! HEY! Don't touch that! Try that again, buster, and I'll rip your privates off! Oh, you...! ...Oh. ...Oooh. ...Oh my. Ooooh... stop. I mean... don't. Don't stop..." Hale and Taylor try to contain their shock as SuperDuelist and Odiferous Muskrat proceed to favor heavy petting over heavy blows. "Okay. NOW we shoot them," they order in unison. Their aims are true; neither SuperDuelist nor Odiferous Muskrat sensed the attack. The bullets went straight through their heads. "Make a 'safe sex' joke, and you join them," Hale informs her partner. Taylor chuckles, "Oh, be a sport. Surely you can trust me to be more tactful than that." Hale gives Taylor another hard look. Taylor notices. "What?" he asks. "...nothing. Let's make sure that Muskrat's imaginary friends are gone and call it a day." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #SF001* It is a common practice in many universes to use dartboards in the workplace to alleviate stress. Marlowe is unbelieveably stressed at the moment, so he practices with his dartboard. But instead of darts, he throws daggers. And Jack Carver's face is in the middle of the dartboard. And, in outright defiance of Marlowe's expertise with weaponery, it doesn't have so much as a scratch on it. Marlowe's phone rings. He picks it up. The voice on the other side says, "It's Taylor." "Oh, thank God,-" Marlowe sighs. "We need to talk," both men state in unison. "...let's secure the line, and then you go first," Taylor suggests. Both men configure their phones so the conversation is practically undecipherable and untraceable. "Okay, Marlowe. Sock it to me." "Well... you are not going to believe the three-legged rabbit that Carver pulled out of his hat this time. His target turns out to be a chef! Easy win for him. But that's not what got me mad. You know Giovanni?" "Yeah. What about him?" "Carver told him to go blow himself." "WHAT?" "That's right. Giovanni is... WAS... one of our best clients. He had a purse the size of a blue whale's nutsack, and Carver pisses him off! Shit! Shit! SHIT!!!" "Good grief." "So help me, Taylor... if one more thing goes wrong today, I'm going to go completely apeshit!" "..." "Taylor?" "..." "Oh, Christ, Taylor. What the fuck happened?" "Two things. You remember Akio Ohtori? Well, it turns out that he's banging his sister and about half of the school." "Yeah. So?" "YOU KNEW?" "I don't care what our clients do on the side, Taylor. If they pay the bills, I got no complaints. And Akio's a good customer." "Was." "...she didn't-" "Hale told me on the way home that she walked in on him and his sister. She gave him an earful. And our course of action left his game in disarray." "Oh, shit." "It gets worse." "HOW THE HELL CAN IT GET ANY WORSE, TAYLOR?" "I think she's beginning to suspect." "..." "..." "..." "...you okay over there, Marlowe?" "Am I okay? AM I OKAY?!? Two very skilled, very lucky and very irritating employees are running circles around us. Whatever we try with them, it doesn't work. Whatever we throw at them, they shit all over it and send it back to us on a silver platter. One of them is getting close to finding out what's really going on, and now the other is starting to put two and two together. And on top of everything else, they both manage to completely alienate a pair of customers whose finaces could single-handedly fund the Agency's activities for decades! Oh, yeah, Taylor! I'm okay! I'M FUCKING EUPHORIC OVER HERE! I THINK I'LL THROW ON MY GODDAMN BLUE DRESS AND FROLICK IN A MOTHERFUCKING DAISY FIELD BECAUSE I'M THAT DAMN HAPPY!" "Marlowe..." "FUCK YOU!" Marlowe throws his cell phone at the dartboard. It hits Carver's picture and breaks into pieces. He angrily paces around his office. He needs to do something -- and fast -- before either one, the other, or both break down his door and shove a glock down his throat. Both Carver and Hale need to eiter calm down or die. Thirty minutes after destroying his cell phone, inspiration hits him. He picks up the phone on his desk and calls Taylor back. "Listen... I got an idea that will take care of Carver and get Hale to trust you. Pay attention, because if you manage to fuck this up, I'm leaving you at Hale's mercy..." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #AMG43117484* Carver had always heard about the ladies of this particular plane. A sweetness that would make your stomach churn, and a look that made parts farther south pay their own sort of attention. Carver could only see a ghost of such things in the woman sitting in front of him. Her hair was a mussed tangle. Her skin was a sallow, lifeless color except for a sprinkle of feverishly red spots tossed carelessly across her angled features. Her jaw was hard-set, her mouth a thin pink line, her eyes circled with a faint racoon-ring of bruised flesh. The eyes...the eyes were the worst part. Large eyes, lovely eyes, hollow eyes. He'd seen pictures of people with eyes like that before. They were the eyes of a Holocaust victim. The thin pink line parted. Her voice floated out, barely a whisper. "Please...Mr.Carver." Her eyes drifted to the obvious bulge of the pistol under Carver's jacket. "Send me home." The request filled in all the little details that the picture hadn't. The picture had been pure depravity smeared on paper. Whoever had this girl was driving her mad with debauchery, and wasn't letting her have any sort of escape, no form of rest. She was a broken Goddess, a fallen angel. "Why has father forsaken me?" Carver almost shot her then. Whatever she was now, she still had such a powerful influence over him. He felt his arm trying to go to his gun, to level it, to send her away, to free her, to let her take wing and fly home. He stopped himself mid-way, his hand curling into a fist. He clutched his fist tighter and tighter, using the pain to clear his head. He then decided to say...something. He knew whatever he could say would fall so short of the mark that it was useless. He couldn't offer condolences. Any promises of revenge would be hollow at this point. He decided at last to try to shock the angel into some sort of coherence. It was what made the most sense to him. It probably would have worked, too, if the bullet hadn't decided to tear into his back at that very moment. As it tore out of Carver's left ribcage, Carver couldn't help but wonder if this might do the trick, after all. qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq *World #SMJ522* "Why, oh why, am I dressed like the love child of 'Barbie' and 'Star Trek?'" Hale asks aloud. It is worth noting that Hale's current attire consists of marble-sized red earrings, a white leotard, a blue shawl, white leggings and black ballerina shoes that squeaked when she walked. Her hair is tied back in a bun. "Because," Taylor explains. "On this planet, there are no women. They do, however, have marionettes, which are androids that look like real women. But most of them don't have emotions, so-" "So I have to act like a robot?" Hale asks incredulously. Taylor chuckles and answers, "Nope. We can just say that you have a Maiden Circuit. And before you ask, it's a device that grants a machine human emotions." "Okay. But I still think it sucks that I'm dressed like some sort of blow-up doll, and you get to wear a brown gi and sandals," Hale complains. Since their car is radically different than the native automobiles, Palanquins, they park in the outskirts of town and walk to their client's house. "OH! Thank goodness you're here!" their client, Hanagata Mitsurugi, shouts as he pulls Hale and Taylor into his apartment. Hale and Taylor take a look at thier client and try their damndest not to laugh. Hanagata Mitsurugi wears a white long-sleeved shirt and white tights. He also wears a pink vest and an oversized purple bow-tie. His bluish-green eyes shimmer. "You're with..." Hanagata says. He then takes on the appearance of the Grim Reaper, complete with scythe. "THEM!" He then assumes his normal attire. "Right?" "Um... he's going to do this a lot, isn't he?" Taylor asks. Hale responds, "I... I'm afraid so." Hanagata, oblivious to their exchange, starts a soliloquy. "Oh, how vile and degrading it must be to have to resort to assassinations to make a living. But I am lower still, for I, Hanagata Mitsurugi, have no other recourse than to seek out the services of one such as you. But, surely, you ask yourself, 'What could have brought such a noble and shogun-loving citizen to such a state?'" "Missing your medication?" Hale guesses. "NO, YOU STUPID MARIONETTE!" Hanagata shouts, his head temporarily increasing in size tenfold. "It's love, I tell you. LOVE!" Hanagata sighs dreamily. "Oh, Otaru, my manly Otaru, my gentle Otaru, my lovely Otaru... it breaks my heart that those three she-beasts drive a wedge between our relationship!" "She-beasts?" Taylor asks. Hanagata shows Hale and Taylor pictures of Lime, Cherry and Bloodberry. "Don't get me wrong, you heartless murderers!" Hanagata barks. "I don't want you to kill them! I just want you to scare them off! You know..." Hanagata is suddenly in a trenchcoat and wearing sunglasses. "Convince them that it would be... healthy to them... to leave Otaru alone. Know what I mean?" Hale and Taylor look at the pictures. They look at each other. Then they look at Hanagata, who is once again in his normal attire. "We won't kill them," Taylor states. Hanagata cries tears of joy. Waterfalls run down his cheeks. "Oh, thank you!" he shouts. Hale adds, "We won't do anything to them. It's not our job." Hanagata continues, "You're wonderful for a pair o-" Hanagats turns completely grey. "WHAT?!?" "It's not our job," Taylor explains. "Here... let me try and explain..." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq "You're shittin' me, boss." "Not at all, Mathias." "So you're telling me that these two coworkers-" "Targets." "These two targets came here to start a prostitution ring?" "Makes sense. There isn't a single flesh-and-blood woman on the planet except her." "She's going to be awful busy." "No she won't, Mathias. She'll be awful dead. Now get going." "Fine, fine..." qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq Author's Notes: Whoa. How the *HELL* did I do that? @_@;;; I think this is the darkest thing I've written to date. But, oh, what fun it was to write. My thanks go out to the usual suspects at the OR for proofreading and encouragement, even though Tiffa sliced and diced me. WAAAH! I also want to thank the regulars at #BlueseedRPG (on DALnet) for giving me answers to some Pokemon questions. http://indiemadnesse.sandwich.net/ Indie Madnesse: Taking Group Fanfictional Lunacy to New Levels Check us out, bay-bee. Send your c&c to woofersan@home.com.