Trinthakis the dark elf, his power amplified by energy of both the Eye and Hand of Vecna the lich-god, clutched his bleeding shoulder as he stood before his enemies. "Even with my new power," he said, "I lost." But before he could continue his rant, both he and the air about him began to glow as he fumbled his will save to keep all that power under his thumb. "What?" He shouted as the energies of his undead grafts began to consume him, taking 3d6 vile damage per turn. "My Body..... ???" As the air flickered with raw energy, the necromancer cried out one last time: "No... To meet such a fate! But I'll be back... You Jerks!" Trinthakis finally perished, consumed in a pillar of white light, within which was the image of the skull of Vecna, his remaining eye glowing, until 3 rounds later, it too faded leaving nothing of him. When the Light subsided, Jozan, the level 8 cleric of Pelor blinked. "What was that?" he said, his back turned to his teammates, a massive Half-Orc barbarian named Krusk, who carried an Orcish double axe, and Lidda the Halfling rogue. "Krusk," Lidda whispered. "What?" was his reply. "I'm getting sick of hanging out with Jozan, you too?" "Yeah, Krusk know what Short girl mean. Him boring!" "Yeah," Lidda paused, recalling their passage through the Tomb of Horrors. "You're right!" Jozan, having made his sense motive check chose that moment to turn around, pointing a stern finger at his two converts. "Hey you two," He said. "Yeah?" they both replied. "Tomorrow we train to tackle the Temple of Elemental Evil, okay?" The two adventurers of low moral fiber just stared at each other, a dribble of snot starting to come out of Krusk's snout, the two of them sweating. "Yeah...Uh...right," they both said. "Firk-ding blast," Lidda cried, "again, we're speechless." "Krusk knew it," Krusk added, as the two began to run. "Hey!" Jozan called out as he chased them, waving his +3 Mace of Smiting "Get back here!" Lidda shouted to her dimwit companion "this is just like the last time!" [---] Jae's eyes flew open, as he found himself awake in an unfamiliar place, his forehead slick with rain instead of sweat. "I had that dream again," he said, as he felt the metal-capped edge of a staff press into his throat [---] Forgot About Jae Chapter 33: Let's Do the time Warp Again... Shelby Scott jumped to the left. And then Jim Eperson Stepped to the right. While with hands on hips, Mary-Melissa Wilzewski brought their knees in tight as that pelvic thrust really drove them insane. [---] Last time of Forgot About Jade: - Violence Unlimited did the time warp again!!! - Quan Chi still has Sumo Santa - Cracker Jack may just gack more Nazi's than Indiana Jones, Bloodrayne and B.J. Blazcowitz combined. - Hugo is in Hell. There is no doubt. - Who ya gonna call? - GHOSTDUSTERS! - Driver is leaning that the more things change, the more they stay the same. - Hotsuma killed a lot of people while making conversation. - Lucca has stranded everyone out of pure spite, the burning-coal-hearted bitch. [---] Back in the present, at police headquarters in South Town, Police Commissioner Sawada sat at his desk reading over the Sumo Santa case, his immediate subordinate Chief Stryker at his side. "What's a 9 letter word for admitting defeat?" Stryker asked, more interested in his crossword puzzle than solving crimes. "I'm afraid I cannot release that information at this time," Sawada said with his trademark grin. Stryker responded by poking his boss in the head with his Uzi. "Don't make me use this," he said. "You never use it except to ring in the New Year." "Damn, forgot about that." Stryker looked at the report. "So, are we putting out an APB for the magic mime and his two mismatched sidekicks?" "Nope," Sawada said with a smile, "didn't you catch the news? That one just solved itself." [---] "This is Juste Belmont," said Juste Belmont, investigative reporter for Belmont Family News Factor, "and this, is the late/early Exposition Report. Tonight's/this morning's top story: Christmas was saved at the last second, but not by any good Samaritans or freelance vigilante agencies. No, the kidnapped Sumo Santa enacted his own escape from his kidnappers, by taking advantage of their ringleader's stupidity." "Hey!" called the voice of Quan Chi, who was off-screen to Juste's right, until the camera panned over to him. "With me in the studio is Quan Chi," Juste continued, "noted rat-fink backstabbing sorcerer and confessed mastermind of the kidnapping. Quan, may I call you Quan? Exactly what went wrong?" "Well Juste, as Evil plans go, of which I have countless and even more insidious plots in store, this one was absolutely foolproof. Not to say that my normal plans can be thwarted by fools in any way, but this one was especially clever. Kidnapping Sumo Santa was but the first phase of my grand master plan to dominate the entire world, and bring the denizens of the Earthrealm to my feet." "So what went wrong," Juste interrupted. Quan Chi was about to speak when he paused, his mouth wide open. he stayed that way for a few seconds, before he started crying, and with a wail he buried his face in his hands, sobbing disconsolately. "It was the perfect evil plan," Quan Chi said between sobs, "I had everything figured, and no one could stop me. I was going to take over the world, make my enemies my slaves, and have all the ice cream I could want! But when Sumo Santa said he was cold from being half-naked and dragged across the city on Christmas Eve, I didn't think there'd be any harm in letting him warm his hands by the fire. After all, I have two powerful Oni as my minions, he couldn't make a run for it. But he looked so trustworthy, like a large, nice old man wearing only a sumo thong...I was so wrong..." "How did Sumo Santa escape you then?" "He, he warmed his hands by the fire, and then looked at me. Laying his finger on the side of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose." "In other words you forgot he flies up chimneys?" Quan Chi said nothing, as he started weeping uncontrollably. Juste turned back to the camera. "There you have it. Evil wizard, left without any evil plans. A horrible end, to an otherwise perfect Christmas. Thank you Sumo Santa, for ruining this man's dreams of world conquest." [---] "Well," Stryker said, "that was pretty easy. Now all we have to worry about is who wins the mayoral election." Sawada just picked up the newspaper and folded it to the sports page. "No we don't," he said calmly. "What do you mean, if anyone but Rodriguez wins, we're fired." "You might but I won't. When I took this job I sold my soul to a demon so that I'd keep my job as commissioner for as long as I live." Stryker nodded with respect, knowing that was a pretty decent plan for a universally despised police commish to stay in power. Then a thought occurred to him. "You had a soul?" [---] In the future, the world has gone to hell in a hand-basket. Cities lie in ruin, mutant biker gangs roam unchecked, and evil overlords rule as feudal kings of old. And in the vast urban sprawl that is Neo-South-Town III, Only the strong survive to reach such lofty heights as the throne room in what was once the Geese Tower, which was currently home to the strongest man alive in the city, the one who had unified the gangs under his leadership, against whom the police could only dream of forming a rebellion against, King Shishio. Who was currently on his throne, fast asleep while in full costume, snoring while trying to suckle his boxing glove clad thumb. His other hand, also wearing a red boxing glove, clutched his mystic sword tightly like it were a favored toy. Just goes to show that being the strongest man in the city is not the same as being the coolest looking. Aside from Shishio's snoring, the room was actually very quiet, until a voice called out in the dark. "Wake up," it called. Shishio nodded his head lower, as his lips mumbled "Mmm, evil pie..." The voice sighed. "Right, I forgot. You're a moron. But since I need you awake right now..." At those words, Shishio's sword began to glow with an increasingly bright light, until it's glare was enough to awaken its master. "Huh," he said with a yawn, stretching his arms with an audible crack. "About time," the voice of the sword said, "I have something important..." Shishio held his sword out in front of him. "More important than nappy time, Captain Stabby?" Along the flat of the blade, an image appeared, a golden bird's beak with glowing red eyes. "Jyazu," it said, "My name is Jyazu. I've helped you for years now, the least you can do is get my name right." "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for you buddy?" "Just punch yourself in the face, then listen to me." The tyrant did as he was told, smacking himself quite hard, then did his best to listen intently. "Are you going to listen now?" "Yes." "Good. Now, a few minutes ago someone fell out of a portal in time. I think it was that Arthur Mitsurugi guy again, but since I'm trapped in this sword, I can't tell for sure. I need you to call up your goons and send them out to find out who it is, whether we can use them, and to kill them if not. Did you get all that?" "Sorry, Captain Stabby." Jyazu sighed, his spectral eyes rolling. "Of all the post-apocalyptic warlords who could own me, why was it you?" "Because I didn't like the sword that makes people sing?" "Just get the boys, then put me in the scabbard. I have a headache." "You don't have a head." "Just. Shut. Up." [---] Jae looked up into the eyes of the man who held him down with his staff. The first thing about him that struck Jae was the stranger's frightening resemblance to the late Kim Kaphwan. Same chin, same part in the hair, same "I am not in a happy mood" frown of discontent, same fashionable color scheme of blue and white. Only instead of a dobok, the man wore a loose shirt and pants, with a stylish suit coat over top. "Okay," the man said, "now, we don't get many entrances like yours, so you'll excuse me being the pop-culture whore that I am when I ask 'are you a good witch, or a bad witch?'" "I fight for the side of justice," Jae said "Justice," the man said with an angry grimace, "The tyrant of Tokyo? The most foul-hearted cyborg to walk the earth? Well I'm sorry flunky-man, you've come a long way to die. Because evil cannot be forgiven!" "Jae's not evil," NEG shouted, having awakened and caught the tail end of the exchange. "In fact, he's an aspiring Hero of Justice (TM)" "Good enough for me," The man replied as he took his staff away from Jae's throat, and was at her side in an eyeblink, his white teeth glistening in a studly-yet-smarmy kind of way. "Why hello there, beautiful," he said with undisguised attraction, "what brings a sweet thing like you to a post apocalyptic ruin like this?" "Well," Jae said as he stood up, "the gist of it is that we're here because of an accident happening when we tried to go back in time." "You must think we're insane, don't you?" NEG added. "Nah," the man said as he put on a pair of sunglasses, "In fact just last week a good friend of mine went back in time to thwart an attempt to make this place even worse. But we should be getting someplace secure soon, it ain't safe in this neck of the woods." "Before we do that," Jae asked, his eyebrow starting to twitch at the attention NEG was getting from the stranger, "could you tell us who you are?" The man gave a pimp smile, his teeth sparkling. "Why, I'm Kim Su Il, Supa-fly Pimp Hero of Justice (TM & Inc.)!" he turned to NEG, "and might this bee know what handle you go by, you sweet drop o' honey?" "Ain't got one," was her response. "Ain't got one? What kind of answer's that?" "She's my Nameless Everpresent Girlfriend," Jae said with a jealous glare. "My name's Kim Jae Hoon." Kim Su Il looked at Jae, then at NEG, silent for a moment, before standing aghast and screaming in a shrill voice: "MOM?!" [---] Fuuma awoke to see nothing. Well, he saw something, but considering all he could see was a great expanse of matte black, he might have well been seeing nothing. "Wow it's dark in here," he said. "You're telling me," J.P. Polnareff said as he appeared to Fuuma's left. "Whoa," Fuuma shouted, "that was cool! Can you do that again? I'm always looking for ways to increase my most excellent of ninja hiding skills." "Don't worry, you will see it again. Often." "Say, where'd you come from anyway?" "Well, I was walking along, minding my own business when I hear someone behind me shout 'Use magic to avoid death!' Next thing I know, I'm here again. You?" "Opened a time machine's door in flight." "Ouch," said a red and gray clad knight as he walked up. "Hey J.P., hey new guy." "Hello Dirk. Dragon again?" The knight scratched his head, his face nauseous. "No, I opened a door, and then, well, I don't want to know what killed me that time." "So where are we?" Fuuma asked in a rare moment of insight. "The other side," said the Mack truck that pulled up. "Hey Prime," Dirk said. "Hello Sir Dirk, Hello Jean-Pierre, Hello red ninja." "Bonjour, Optimus." "Oh wow," Fuuma said, his childhood flooding back in his memory, "Can you do that really cool noise you guys make?" "I don't see why not, I need to stretch anyway." In moments, the trailer truck transformed into the world famous robotic martyr, Optimus Prime, making that really cool transformer noise when he did so. "That is so cool," Fuuma said with a grin. "Anyway," Polnareff said, as he brought them back to the topic at hand, "there are those of us who have a fairly bad habit of well, dying, and then respawning in another location, only to die again in equally horrible fashion." "And this great empty void is where we turn up," Dirk added. "Although I've seen a few ghosts floating around here now and again." "So on the plus side," J.P. continued, "you should be out of here pretty soon." "But," Fuuma said," I'm not dead, I just fell out of a time machine." "I guess you have a problem then." Polnareff said as he winked out. "What happened to him?" "He just respawned," Optimus said, "Hopefully he can get a message out for you." [---] Polnareff looked around, and saw that he was on the edge of a dreary midwestern town, with a thick impenetrable fog blanketing the area. Seeking some sort of bearing, He came across a road sign that read: -------------------------- WELCOME TO RACCOON CITY POP: WHOLE LOTTA ZOMBIES -------------------------- "Merde," he said as he heard the baying of undead hounds in the distance. [---] "But I don't think I can wait that long." Fuuma said, suddenly finding himself alone in the darkness, both Dirk and Optimus returned to the land of the living. Having nothing better to do, Fuuma pulled out his crossword puzzle. "Hmm, what's a 5 letter word for the separation between this life and the next...?" [---] Cracker Jack was having the time of his life. It was so very rare in his home time to bet the holy hell out of any major groups without some whiny crybaby lobbyists in congress getting on his ass with a lawsuit, which was one of the reasons he began Violence Unlimited in the first place, albeit a very small one. That and Shadowloo's pay couldn't even buy a decent 6-back of beer. But that was beside the point. Aside from the occasional megabrawl such as that ninja job, there was no way CJ could beat up scores of people without repercussions. Except Nazis, because everyone hates Nazis. But there aren't that many actual fighting Nazi's in 2006. Most are neo-nazi poseurs, antique cyborgs or even just floating heads in jars. But in 1943, Nazis were everywhere, and in perfect condition for beatdowns. Suffice to say, being trapped in 1943 inside a Nazi base was very good news to CJ, who was now setting a record for mass slaughter. Thus he was none to pleased when he saw the scrawny kid in front of him. "Wow," Kyosuke said to someone CJ couldn't see, "Cracker Jack, he revolutionized the way vigilante justice was fought in the entire U.S.A.!" "Well," Potemkin said as he stepped out from the shadows, "then ah reckon it's fight time again, cuz ah don't think he'll wanna go back home." CJ just made his way past them, slugging Nazis as he went. "Can't talk, kicking Nazi ass." "Nazis?" Potemkin asked with a smile, "hot damn, ah love poundin' the crap outta them!" Cyrax shook his head and sighed. "I'll find the French resistance, I have a feeling we may have to spend the night in a fox-hole..." [---] [Scene: interior, medium shot] It's a fairly suburban household foyer, as ISHIZAKI makes his way to the door as the doorbell rings. [P.O.V.] From outside we see the door open, and the surprised face of ISHIZAKI when he sees who's there. ISHIZAKI: H, hello... [P.O.V.] From ISHIZAKI's perspective, we see the smiling face of RYUJI YAMAZAKI. RYUJI: Hello, I represent the Yamata-No-Orochi Insurance Society, and I'm going door-to-door to ask a few questions, if I might borrow some of your time? [Medium shot, the two of them in profile] ISHIZAKI: uh, okay... Ryuji: Have you made plans to see that your loved ones will be taken care of in the event of your untimely demise? ISHIZAKI: Why, yes I have. As retainer to Kanzuki-Sama, I receive full benefits from the Kanzuki corporation in case of bodily harm, plus a generous retirement package [Medium shot, RYUJI from the chest up.] RYUJI: (Smiles evilly, and pops his knuckles with a loud cracking sound) Wrong answer, fat boy. You shoulda signed up with us, because can your company cover this? [Far shot, exterior] RYUJI walks into the house, and closes the door. From inside, we hear the sound of much gratuitous violence and property damage, in addition to ISHIZAKI's girl-like screams. This goes on for about 30 seconds, as outside the scene fades from day to night. [Fade to, exterior] RYUJI walks away from the house as it burns to the ground. As he walks off camera, the logo of the YAMATA-NO-OROCHI INSURANCE SOCIETY, as well as their phone number come up. ANNOUNCER: Yamata-No-Orochi Insurance Society: give us lots of money, and we won't burn down your house and kill you like the dogs you are. [---] Back in the future, as the three made their way through the ruined city, the desire to know came up. "So exactly what happened here?" Jae asked his future son, "Does Blackheart win after all?" Kim turned to his father's past self. "You mean the Great Demon Invasion? Might be, don't know for sure. No one does. According to what records exist, it just happened one day, without any warning. Many people think it was the demons though." "You mentioned Justice earlier, who's he?" "Real nasty cyborg out in asia. After the apocalypse, as you can see everything went Waterworld, and pretty much any penny ante supervillain took over a city and started making an empire. Justice happens to be a particularly nasty robot ruling what's left of Japan, although currently he's in a turf war with some alien named Red Falcon. There are those of us who've put together a resistance, but we're not ready yet to take back civilization. Fortunately for South Town, we just have to worry about King Shishio." "And that would be?" "The worst dressed man in civilization. Just trust me on this. He's also a moron so we've got a good resistance base here. His minions though are a real pain. Whoever he has as a second in command is a lot smarter than he is." "I see," Jae said, "well, at least we have a way to get home. I just hope the others are okay." [---] At that moment, Hugo wanted nothing more than to die painfully. [---] "I'm sure they'll manage," Kim su Il said, "anyway, our base is just over the next ridge, so in a few minutes we'll have you..." It was then that a shrill screech of an electric guitar pierced the air. Jae and NEG covered their ears against the racket. "Shit," Kim said, "Shishio's men. Get ready for a fight you two." As soon as those words escaped his mouth, roughly sixteen neon blue-clad ninjas leapt from out of the ruins, as a punk rocker with a Guile haircut stepped forth atop an outcropping, still strumming his axe. "In the name of his most bodacious warlord," he sang, " King Shishio, you bogus loserzoids will surrender to us!" To Be Continued... --------------------- Well, that went smashingly, I hope. Special thanks goes to Alex Duvall, who helped me get a personality for King Shishio.