The following is one of the fics from the Improvisational Fanfiction panel at Anime Expo 2002, transcribed by me. I've done my best to reproduce the text exactly as it was written. The author of each section is listed at its beginning. The first author contributed their mini-starter to the panel, and the subsequent authors are from the panel's audience. Enjoy, and feel free to continue the fic if you so wish. ^_^ -- Steven Rutter -- ~!@#$%^&*()_+ Space Opera Blues Written by: Steven Rutter +_)(*&^%$#@!~ "... So they're after you because you're so cool?" "Exactly!" "That has to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard." "Hey, shut up! You have no idea how cool am!" "Well, now's the time to show it, here they come!" The two heads ducked down behind the broken chunk of wing wedged into the ground on the bleak desert planet. The wing, and its accompanying hunks of starship chunks, were the only thing that broke the flat landscape. Enemy blaster fire was the only illumination offered in the moonless night. "Three of them. Blasting K-Raiders just don't know when to quit... I really hope you have some sort of gun under that dopey cape of yours, I left my gun in my glove compartment which you crashed into this hellhole, and now is no time to try and guess which chunk that landed in." "It wasn't my fault we were being chased! And I told you, it's not a cape! It's a warrior's cloak! It gives me a mysterious air to keep my fans in--" He was cut off as a red hot bolt hit a little too close for comfort by his left ear. "Does that really matter right now?! Just do something! Or do I have to solve every little problem that comes up?!" The figure on the left shouted as he adjusted his sunglasses with a finger before they slid too far down his long nose. The star-shaped cufflink on his right wrist glistened as another red bolt scream past over head. As he pulled his arm down, the black sleeve of his tailored jacket covered up the golden piece of metal. He pulled his arm over his side, tightening his jacket over his thin, dirty shirt that used to call itself white before it crashed down, along with the rest of the outfit and the person living inside it, on this no one planet in an uncharted part of the galaxy. "You know, you really need to have more faith, my friend. Have I ever let you down before?" His counterpart eyed him crossly. "Er... don't answer that. Now, just watch." With that, the figure on the right stood up and threw open his deep blue cloak, revealing form fitting body armor and a belt with more attachments than Xantaran deluxe model vacuum cleaner system. Out of a pouch on his left side, he deftly removed three small, metallic orbs. He quickly palmed them, as he leapt over the wing and rolled on the ground. As he moved, the enemies' bolts tracked him across the ground. The man in the tailored suit grumbled to himself. "That moron is so going to get us both killed..." Just then, a bright flash erupted into the night sky, quickly followed by the sounds of short scuffle. It was over as quickly as it begun, and the light slowly faded. Pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from a pocket hidden inside his coat, the man shook it until one of the occupants stuck its thin, white, filtered head out. He held the pack up to his mouth and pulled out a beat up cigarette with his lips. After putting the pack away, he started to stand up. "Ah well, guess I better bail him out..." As his head peaked over the edges of the wing, a gun flew out to meet him. Deftly, he caught. In less than a second it was flipped around in his grip and pointed out before him. "There, that's one gun to replace the one you lost!" The man in the cape laughed. Eyes registering the sight before him, the man in the tailored suit sighed and loosened his grip on the gun. Calvin powerposed mightily on a raised piece of wreckage with his cape billowing around him despite the complete lack of wind that night, as the three beaten bodies of their attackers lay sprawled out on the ground. "That'll teach you to mess with me, Calvin Cosmo, the Greatest Warrior in... the UNIVERSE!" In either hand he held the guns he had stolen off their bruised and bloody battered bodies. Flicking a lock of blond hair away from his tanned face, he hopped down onto the ground and walked toward the man in the suit. "In the universe?" "No, in the UNIVERSE!" Calvin posed again. Had their been a cloud in the sky, thunder might have clapped in excitement. "Man, you really are a piece of work." The man holstered his gun inside his jacket, turned at walked off. Ignoring the remark, Calvin ran to catch up. "Well, trusty sidekick, it is, after all, our jobs to defend the people from such rabble. Come now, let us check the wreckage of your once proud ship for anything which may be of use to we weary castaways on this uncharted desert planet." Grumbling, the man checked his pockets for a lighter. He didn't have one. The man grumbled some more. -- CM / crmbh@hotmail.com -- While the piece of his former hull not red-hot, it was close enough, and the man swore loudly when he tried to flip it over. It fell back onto the pile of former ship parts with a clatter, causing the man who called himself "Calvin" to look over at him. "Have you injured yourself? Are you able to continue on your quest?" "Yeff, fank yu," the man replied, injured fingers stuffed into his mouth. "Ah, excellent! Now, this material appears to be overheated, therefore..." As Calvin pulled out some gizmo from his belt and pointed it at a pile of slag, the man sighed. He didn't want to be here. He really, really didn't want to be here. -- little-rice.net -- Suddenly a monkey looking thing popped out of the ground and ripped off Calvin's foot and ate it. -- Unknown -- "Ahh! My foot!" he said. He grabbed hold of the jagged stump, as blood sprayed freely over the rocky soil. "Avenge me, dear Jacques, avenge me..." he said, then collapsed to the ground.