It was a dull, dreary, mist-shrouded night in South Town, no less so down on the waterfront, where the wages of sin were paid in seedy bars. Not that anyone in the was making note of such allusions, as they were engrossed in their own shady business, while Zangeif the bartender served the drinks. That was the scene the two women entered into, as they approached the bar itself. "So what'll it be?" asked Zangeif. "A Monkey's Brain," Mature shouted as she slammed her fist down on the counter. "And I'll have some oolong tea," Vice added politely. "There is small problem," Zangeif said, "We do not have those drinks. we do have healthy supply of vodka, however." The two women pouted, but then Vice perked up with a happy smile. "That's all right, we're actually just asking around for someone." "Dante The Devil," Mature added. "Dante the Devil?" Zangeif asked, "the Demon Tearjerker? The Half-Fiend Monsoon?" "Yes, have you seen him?" "I *KNOW* Dante! Let me get you a round." A short distance away, a certain table got a bit livelier. "They won't make the movie version of Marvel versus Capcom 2 because he wants to direct!" Guile shouted, raising his mug, "And he wants Marlon Brando to play wolverine! To Dante!" "DANTE!" the chorus shouted at once. "He kicked Devil Gundam in the Crotch and made it cry!" Seth added, "And he's only what? Six nothing? To Dante!" "Dante!" "DOA Beach Volleyball was his idea!" Ken said, "To..." "Hey!" E. Honda growled, "Get back to talking about me! You know what I do to guys like you who change idols at the drop of a hat?" The chorus shook their heads. "I use them to make myself a new sumo thong." "And you're just 8'9" and weigh 42 tons?" R. Mika asked. "Yep, quite the feat." "TO E.HONDA!" [---] Forgot About Jae Chapter 38: What A Wonderful Nightmare Torn from the belly of the beast and served to the unwitting public by Shelby Scott Special Sauce added by Jim Eperson [---] Last time on Forgot About Jae: - Nobody was sleeping well at night, because they all had that dream again. - There's something strange, in The Driver's 'hood. - The Legion of Evil shot another meeting down the crapper. - Anyway, it's weird and don't look good. - Who's CJ gonna call? - GHOSTDUSTERS! - All hail Sameal-Sama! - Cutsman got lucky. [---] Kyo looked at the creature before him. It was a massive reptilian beast, with wicked claws and a glossy brown-black hide. Most puzzling were the sunglasses on its head underneath the Greco-roman helmet. "I must admit," Kyo said, "I was expecting someone else." "Boss," the demon said, "do I really have to talk to this guy? It's really important." Through Kyo's lips, Blackheart spoke. "What is it, Blade #623?" "Well, there are two things. The first is about Sameal..." "I am aware of his attempts to cross over." "Yeah, well, the imps downstairs say it might work this time." "I see. I will have the situation watched, then. What is the second matter?" "Well, we just got word from Garuda..." [---] Somewhere in the Caribbean, a familiar figure sat back in a deck chair on a white sandy beach. His thick green mantle spilled over the back of his seat while his gauntleted hand cradled a Latverniaberry Margarita with lemon slice, twisty straw and neon pink cocktail umbrella. Taking a sip he sighed to the gently flowing waves. "No vigilantes, superheroes or other home wreckers," He said, "Truly, Doom can chill here for a week or so." "Excellent impersonation of Doom's voice," The real Doctor Doom said to his apprentice, Kim Dong Hwan, "Soon you shall be the perfect stunt double for Doom." Don Hwan pause, took another sip of his drink, adjusted his cloak, then looked Doom in the eye while he scratched his head with his own foot. "Wait, what was that about being a stunt double?" Doom sighed. "Doom supposes Doom had to tell you sooner or later. The truth is my dull-witted sidekick, that Doom has not once fought his own battles since the mid-1980's, when Doom began using Doombots to justify Doom's claim of 'only setbacks, never defeats.' Since then Doom's skills at anything other than design have stagnated, and thus Doom now needs regular stand-ins in the event of a fight. And since we used Doom's last Doombots to escape Garuda, you Dong Hwan have the honor of playing the part of Doom." Dong was silent as he pondered this new information, before he farted and asked, "does this mean you show me how to say my name in bold capital letters?" "Doom supposes so." Two heavy musical notes filled the air. "What was that?" Dong asked "What was what?" replied Doom. The notes sounded again. "That?" "Yes, That puzzles Doom as well." And again. "There it is again." "Odd, Doom sees no one with a cello..." The slowly forming tune began to speed up, filling the air with an infamous tune as other instruments joined the sound of the cello. "Wait, wasn't this the song from 'Jaws?'" "Doom believes so, yes." Out on the water, a windsurfing Polnareff capsized as a 3 foot long blade shot out of the water and cleft him in twain. As the blade began to shrink back, its very familiar origin, the Demon Garuda, strode out of the water, covered in seaweed. "Well," Dong said as he stood up, "Time to start running again." Doom remained seated. "Doom wouldn't be so sure, look." "Is he wearing swim trunks?" Sure enough, the fiendish hunter was wearing bright green nylon trunks in addition to It's regular armor. After pausing to tear the seaweed off of Itself, Garuda walked over to the duo and sat down in Dong's chair, before motioning to the cabana girl to bring It a margarita as well. And not once did It make note of Dong. "Doom," Dong said as he walked in front of the demon. "What just happened?" Garuda motioned for Dong to move further over so as not to obstruct It's view of the DOA bikini Suicide Beach Frisbee Matchup. "Quite simple," Doom answered, "as I have said before, Garuda is a member of the Union of Hell, and as such is entitled to certain benefits. Doom suspects, nay, is certain that your nemesis here is taking advantage of It's yearly two week paid vacation." Dong turned to Garuda, who nodded at Doom's statement, then consulted his hotel brochure. "So, who's up for the buffet, magic act and floor show tonight?" "Eh, Doom is turning early tonight. Jet lag and all, you know." Garuda sat there silently, before slowly giving Dong the thumbs up. [---] "HE'S TAKING HIS VACATION NOW?!" Blackheart shouted, his fury made manifest in his voice as it flayed the unfortunate lizardman's flesh from his bones. Both in Hell and on Earth, Blackheart/Kyo sat back in his chair and gently rubbed his forehead to stave off the onrushing headache. With Garuda on leave, that created the risk that the demon prince's carefully planned schedule for inter-planar domination off course, or possibly jeopardized it altogether. However, having received the news now, Blackheart could now take steps to clean up this mess before it became a mess. And that meant one thing... "Outside help is required," The demon said as he began checking his rolodex for the abyssal lord he needed. [---] The halls of the Violence Unlimited home office had not been privy to such scenes of violence and carnage since the last time Fuuma flooded both the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms with radioactive sewer water. But that is another story and the hordes of mutant karate gerbils back then were nowhere near as messy as the fiendish slaughter that currently took place. For while the mysterious abominations that crept from out of the omnipresent fog were legion, as killing machines they were more suited to striking down hapless victims who fled in terror first. Violence Unlimited was anything but hapless. Slowly but surely they held the beasts off, and when they knew the building was lost they began to carve a path to the outside by way of the garage. As they opened the garage door, the monsters made their biggest offensive, and for the moment, it seemed they would succeed in tearing the team to gory shreds by sheer numbers alone. But from the rear of the onslaught there came a series of rapidly flashing lights, followed by a great sucking sound. The horde, realizing the presence of a new enemy, turned to face the newer prey. Their mistake. "Hou'ou KYAKUUU!!!" "Powah Upper!" *blam* *blam* *blam* *blam* *blam* "BRATWURST!" "AiaiaiaiaIAIAAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAI!!!!!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP FUUMA!!!" Suffice to say, the fight was over soon afterwards. "So," Yuna said, "who called for the Ghostdusters?" [---] Elsewhere, at Crazy Norimaro's Bar, Grill, and Ladies-Only House of Nookie, violence was also being dished out with extreme prejudice, by the glowing pink blade of Hentai Hunter Slash. Obese fanboys and smelly perverts fled the building in droves as the elf lay waste to the vast reserves of porn, hentai anime and games, and being fairly surprised at the glaring lack of strippers, hookers or any other sort of actual women for that matter. On the other hand, Norimaro was now on his knees with Slash's sword poised at his throat... Not that way! I'm talkin' execution style. "Please don't kill me," the nerd begged, "I'm just very poor and lonely fanboy! I just ply to an equally lonely and unsociable crowd." Slash glared at his victim. "Oh come on Kraken, we've done this dance before. Let's just skip the pleasantries and get to business, shall we?" 'Norimaro' pulled back the skin of his throat, quickly peeling off his face to reveal the bloated, frog-like countenance of the former water fiend. "How'd you know it was me?" "Because the real Norimaro has been dead for weeks after Sister Mary Matrix hacked him in two." "Damn, forgot about that psycho broad. You're right, I am getting sloppy." Slash raised his sword in preparation. "Not as much as you're going to be." Kraken clasped his arms together in an unprecedented display of begging. "Oh c'mon man, I'm legit now, I swear. I deal in skin mags and h-rated date sims, but I've not had anything to do with chicks ever since Zack showed up with that lewdatron ray." This wasn't changing things any, so the demon switched tactics. "What if I told you about that new demon pervert?" "Give me a name, Kraken, or say b'bye to your boys again." "Nicotine Caffiene! He's my big supplier for covert vids and filched panties. He's actually hit on more girls than Vega!" "Over my dead body," the coke machine said. As expected, it had a Spanish accent. "For none make the better love than Vega!" The machine rose up, twirled in place and then made a most ungraceful leap that landed it a foot away on the cold floor with an soft crunching sound. "A little help here," the disguised ninja said, "I'm trying to make a dramatic exit." [---] All across South Town, the nightmares continued. Battler Man dreamt his team actually won the Super Bowl, thus depriving him of his gambling based fortune and at the mercy of a legbreaker named Wan Fu. Heihachi Mishima dreamt he kept falling into that damned Volcano. The Smoker dreamt that The Duke himself rose from the grave to announce to the world that Smoker was not, nor would ever be, a cowboy, and that he was ashamed that he even tried to be one. Benimaru dreamt of a truly horrifying fate, but then he remembered he was Dan's messiah and after 3 hours of uncontrollable disconsolate weeping, had the best sleep he'd had in ages. Iori Yagami was possibly the only one in town not having nightmares, if only for the fact that ever since those damned muppets showed up, he could never ever truly go to sleep, such as that moment when he was being sung a lullabye by Kim Kap Korn on the Kob, Cumcumbaraka, and MushRoomi With those two exceptions, the terror and suffering was music to Sameal's ears, the dark energy of their manifest fears feeding hir and expanding the borders of hir realm. The walls of reality were buckling, and would soon break, which meant that the palace of nightmare that was Sameal's realm would be real once more. Indeed, while shi could not exert hir true splendor yet, Sameal knew that now was the time to begin the crossing, as shi twisted a portion of the Waking World into hir own dark urban funhouse of nightmares. And what luck! Shi could feel the presence of fresh victims in this region, ready to be driven to the edges of madness and beyond with but a fraction of hir might. Although of the group, there seemed to be a smudge where one of the souls should have been, as if in the shared reality of the mind, there was a vacant space that was untouched even by the power of Sameal. [---] Fuuma sneezed, then tried to keep up with what CJ was telling these Ghostdusters about the fog and the monsters. Then he got bored of that and started checking the hiding places. Behind the work bench? No panache. Hugo's shadow? All too easy. Ooh! Ooh! CJ's hat! No, wait, that meant certain death. But that got boring too, so Fuuma fished in his pocket for his candy bar and tried remember where he left his keys. CJ was arguing about money now. And Jae was saying something about thwarting evil and paying later. Kid's got moxie, Fuuma thought, maybe we should help out in busting Doom. After all, as the eternal rival of Hanzou...Wow! It even works when you think it! I gotta... Hey, when did we get a parkade? True to Fuuma's thought, the very fabric of reality was reknitting itself, as the collected heroes found themselves in a fast, unlit chamber with derelict concrete pillars, a rusted metal grate for a floor, all covered in darkened stains that seemed both fresh and ancient at the same time. "Okay," CJ said, "I believe that right now, maybe we should listen to the extortionists." Luigi snorted at the remark, but he yielded to Miku and Yuna. He was the money guy, but it was the girls who knew their stuff. "Well," Miku said, "from all appearances we're being confronted with a full class F manifestation of ethereal presence type c and..." "What she's trying to say," Yuna said, translating for her partner, "is that we're pretty much dealing with a god-like being with way too much free time." "So how do we beat this guy?" Poison asked. Luigi sweatdropped. "Would you believe we don't know?" Violence Unlimited as a whole facefaulted, with CJ recovering first. "WHAT?" "Well," Yuna said, "this is only our second case. However, Mister Jack, of our group I have had experience in slaying deity-class beings before." "SWDDYDLLMSS?" Hugo grunted. "Well, the REALLY short version is that we traveled to the beast's very heart and beat the crap out of it." "So why did we call you morons here then if that's all we have to do?" CJ said with growing distaste. Miku shrugged. "Well somebody has to get everyone out of this pocket dimension." But before CJ could respond on what he felt the Ghostdusters could do, everyone except Fuuma found themselves alone in utter darkness. From Fuuma's perspective, however, everyone looked around bewildered, before suddenly reacting as if they'd been met with their darkest nightmares. How right he was... [---] Hugo fell to the ground, his many muscles quivering with fear as he was confronted with an undulating mass of flesh barely held together by a thin layer of plastic, it's twin heads bobbing and weaving about on serpentine necks of exposed flesh and bone. But it wasn't the body that Hugo feared, it was the faces, and the voices. "Why hello there Mr. Hugo," the Mary Kate said with a lick of the lips. "We still have so many fun things to show you," Ashley said. [---] Luigi sat on the street corner, penniless, broken, forever useless, as his brother Mario was given the praise of the city for defeating the nightmare epidemic single-handed. Nobody noticed Luigi, only Mario would be their idol. Ghostdusters? Everybody knows it was Mario's idea and leadership that made them what they were. Always Mario, never Luigi. And thus the green plumber sank into despair once again. [---] Jae looked about, finding himself alone in a cheerful looking park at sunset, when he heard someone coming from behind him. On instinct, he whirled about , and was greeted by the corpse of his father falling to the ground, his neck twisted and broken. "Up here boy," came the voice of Evil, perched high in the tree, his orange hair as ragged as Jae remembered. "It's been some time little boy, so I figure by now it's time for the two of us to play." "He's right Jae," said the corpse of Kim Kaphwan, "It'll be over fast, and then you'll be free from doubt, pain, hate, and suffering." "However," Freeman continued," since the Buddha says the path to Paradise is suffering, it falls to me to carve that path out of your hide!" [---] The Driver's hell was also not unfamiliar to him, as he found himself once again locked into Daddy's Revenge. However, this time the machine had been stripped bare and put on blocks, leaving him paralyzed and helpless as countless carjacking opportunities slowly passed him by, forever whetting his appetite for violence, but at the same time mocking his inability to work it. [---] The Nightmares of Cracker Jack could be summed in one word: Fuuma. In the darkest recess of CJ's mind, there is a secret dread that one day he would awake to find that every last man woman in child had been replaced by a combination of themselves and Fuuma. This was the hell he found himself in, where everywhere he turned there was the idiot grin of the flame haired fool. On Jae, Poison, Hugo, the stripper at the bar, the hot-dog vendor on the street corner, his dear departed mother, all those chicks from Zack Island, until at last CJ looked into the mirror and realized the truth: There is no Cracker Jack, there is only Fuuma. [---] Sameal sat in hir throne room, trying to learn the guitar, figuring it was a good way to pass the time until shi was ready for the crossing, in addition to watching the suffering dreams of Violence Unlimited and the Ghostdusters, when it occurred to hir to investigate that blank sopt shi detected earlier. Setting the guitar aside, Shi stood to travel to this point. What Sameal did not expect was for the blank point to find her. "Oh," Fuuma said as he entered the great hall, "Hey there! I came here with my friends not too long ago and now they're all acting weird so I figured I should go and kick his ass." Sameal drew to hir full height as she gathered her power to smite her foe. "You wouldn't happen to know who he is, would you?" Fuuma continued. Sameal, surprised at this, facefaulted and rolled down the stairs head over teakettle, until shi came to a rest at the ninja's feet. "You," shi hissed, "you honestly don't know?" "Nope. In fact I was actually looking for the bathroom, then I saw you and remembered we have a bad guy to beat." Sameal regained hir composure, and took this long-awaited chance to boast as shi rose to fill the hall with hir unearthly might. "Foolish mortal, I Sameal, the nightmare king am your enemy! It is I who have turned your home into my playground and it is I who now sieges your friends." For once, Fuuma's mind was his benefit, as he could not comprehend the sanity destroying horror before him. "Oh," he said, "well, could you be real nice and put everything back the way it was?" Sameal was surprised, but pressed on. Clearly this one's defenses were superior to most, but defenses could still be broken. "Perhaps I shall, If you can survive a friendly wager." "Is this like Go Fish?" "Not exactly. we shall test our might against each other. If I cannot affect you, you shall win. If I can, however, well, your world is doomed." Fuuma gulped. It was all riding on him now. "Let us begin," Sameal said, as an endless volley of barbed chains flew from out of the darkness at him, each carefully aimed so as to slowly flay the flesh from his hide in such away that he would not succumb to death until every last scrap of skin was gone. Fuuma didn't even notice their approach at the speed they flew, and soon he was surrounded in a whirlwind of death. Well, he was until he passed through the chains like they weren't there with not a hair out of place. "Impossible," Sameal cried, "None can survive that." "Survive what?" "The storm of pain!" Fuuma glanced back at the blades. "Oh, that. Sorry bout that. Do you want me to go back in?" "No," Sameal replied, "this next trick I learned from an imp named Calypso, and has been a specialty of mine ever since." The Dream King gripped Fuuma's cheeks tightly, before pulling and kneading his face in every direction, until shi had flesh-crafted Fuuma's head into a fully functional writing desk. Well, at least until Fuuma's head snapped back into its original form. Sameal stood in shock for a moment before Fuuma said, "If it helps, you cleared my sinuses doing that." "It seems I have been far too lenient," Sameal cried as the chamber vanished, "for now I shall crush your sanity beyond all recognition! Behold, human, look upon the soul destroying horror of The Abyss of Demogorgon!!! Fuuma looked down, and found himself falling through countless dimensions that could in their own right could easily be considered Hell if not for the fact that to call them hell would mean to limit their endless horrors. the darkest pits of both human and cosmic imaginings were opened to Fuuma's mind as he fell for eternity and a day, things not meant for any mortal to comprehend. For it is said amongst mystics and seers that The Abyss was created when Satan was cast out from heaven, forged with every spilled drop of his blood, borne from his infinite curses, and fuelled by his unending hatred for the universe. This was the way to madness, and thus any cry was expected from those condemned to it. "Are we there yet?" Fuuma yawned. Sameal was again struck dumb, forcing hir to return them both to hir sanctum. Defeated, shi sank back into hir throne, and gave a dismissive wave to hir foe. "You win," shi said, "leave." "I did?" Fuuma looked about, "but I thought..." "I shall not waste further effort against one such as thee. You have won the wager. I shall restore South Town to the way it was, and you shall awake from your slumbers, only dimly remembering what has happened this night. Furthermore, because I do not choose battles I cannot win, I shall not attempt to re-enter your realm until a thousand years after your line has ended." "Wow, that's real nice of you, but..." "JUST WAKE UP AND LEAVE ME BE!" And so Fuuma did, as did the rest of Violence Unlimited, the Ghostdusters, and everyone else in South Town, until at last Sameal was alone in hir chamber. Well, at least until Whip fell asleep again. [---] Terry Bogard gazed out over the pits of Hell, the sight of eternal fires, billowing towers of smoke that filled the sky, and for as far as the eye could see, there were the writhing, tortured souls forever condemned to Perdition, their cries of agony and pleas for mercy falling upon the uncaring ears of their tormentors. Terry adjusted his hat, then turned on his heel to face his cameraman. "Okay everybody," Terry said to his home viewers with an eager grin, "as everyone knows I've kicked the ass of just about everyone on God's green Earth, and now I'm running out of options. That's why today I've come down into Hell itself to beat up some big demon guy I've been hearing about. Now, I'm just going to pound on some lesser feinds until...oh for Crissakes, Bob, what is it?" "You, you're..."Bob Wilson, Terry's intrepid cameraman, was gawking at something behind Terry and pointing madly, his voice frozen in fear. Of course, Bob had a habit of doing this, and that never helped ratings when he was paralyzed with fear. So of course, terry turned around, and instinctively reacted to what he saw. "GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSE!!!!" "I told you I'd see you in Hell," boasted the undead form of the late Geese Howard. and being a vengeful evil spirit in the pits from Hell, his appearance had changed. Mostly in the fact that his head was now a skull wreathed in blue flame and with glowing red eyes. but that was only second in terry's mind when he saw and asked of his late enemy: "Why aren't you wearing any pants?" "I don't want to talk about it," Geese said right before he lay into Terry with ten years worth of bottled hate. Blow after blow landed, each more painful than the last, until at last Terry embraced the darkness of unconsciousness." [---] Terry awoke with a start, then took a sigh. "Whew, it was all a dream." That's when Geese resumed the asswhupping. "You're still in Hell, Bogard, AND THIS ISN'T A DREAM!" [---] Somewhere in South Town, a telephone was ringing. And so the owner of that phone answered. "Hello?" The man asked. "Is this the Asmodeus Temporary Minion Work Agency?" asked the cold and foul voice of Blackheart. "No, this is The Nightmare Committee. You happen to be addressing The Scarebro, president and founder of our organization." "I see," a long pause," I suppose this is just as well. I wish to hire your services for a brief period. I want your organization to bring to me the humans Kim Jae Hoon or Kim Dong Hwan. My representative, Mr. Raptor, will fill you in on the details. For your successful services, however, I can offer you and your business partners a most, shall we say, lucrative payment." "Mister, you just got yourself a deal." "Excellent. I shall have my representative arrive shortly." Blackheart hung up, leaving Scarebro alone in his hideout, the old abandoned cracker factory. "Crap," he said to himself, " I forgot I'm the only member, I'd better get some help!" 1234567890123456789012345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890 Well, from nightmares to worst fears our heros are in for it now. on the matter of the orochi insurance girls, I was hoping to set up a trigun parody, but due to time and budget concerns, the footage with dante had to be cut. besides, we couldn't find a good stand in for Descartes. ja ne!