It was just another sunny, happy shining day in the corporate headquarters of Titan Sports. The receptionist typed up notes. Interns fetched coffee. Men in ties pushed small numbers around on paper until they formed profit. And the CEO was enjoying a cold beer. Now, normally drinking on the job wasn't allowed, but ever since taking the job, he'd been making a few changes. The cafeteria now served sixteen different kinds of fried and barbecued meats. You could get Natural Light out of the vending machines -- which were free, of course. His parking space had to be widened to accommodate his monster truck, but rather than bother some poor working joe with it, he simply parked on top of the nearest vehicle, which happened to be Shane's. Oh well, can't make scrambled eggs without busting up a few eggs. Stone Cold Steve Austin was really enjoying his new job. True, there was some jibber-jabberin' from the former bigwig around the World Wrestling Federation, but Stone Cold took the liberty of having his ass tossed out of the building just a few minutes earlier. And all was peaceful and quiet at last. Peace and quiet. Hrm. Naw, that wasn't going to cut it. He pushed the intercom button on his phone with one of his boots, while cracking open a fresh beer. "Yes, Mr. Austin?" "It's gettin' boring around here," he said. "Call work off for the day and let's go play some basketball behind the building. Make sure the whole senior staff is there, anybody who can't dunk is getting fired." "Certainly, Mr. Austin. Should Mr. McMahon be invited?" "Hell no. I don't want that sunufabitch makin' a mess of things. Let him rot where he is." * Vince McMahon seethed, sitting on the steps in front of the building. TOSSED OUT! Him! He built this company brick by brick, and thanks to Stone Cold Steve Austin, he was forced into a timeout like some petulant little brat! Words could not describe how much Vince despised Austin. He stood for everything Vince didn't want the WWF to stand for... every negative value, every vice, every irritating little personality trait. And now that BASTARD was in HIS office! A sound drew his attention. He turned... and saw the entire board staff charging out of the building with their ties around their heads as makeshift sweatbands. And there was Austin, with a basketball. Vince scowled. "Damn you, Austin..." He stood, intent on going over there and letting that piece of Texas trailer park trash-- Then God appeared. Now, Vince had been in the business for a very long time, as his father before him and his father before him. He'd seen a lot of things. But this was new. The Lord did smile. "Hello, McMahon-san. How are you today?" "This is a trick, right?" Vince asked, looking around suspiciously. "You can't be... I mean. You can't be HER..." True, he himself had seen the Vision of Kasumi everybody else did when she first took the office. There wasn't any possibility of denying the celestial nature of her, unless you were a dyed in the wool skeptic. But in America, they hadn't seen much of... No, wait. There was the road show that her sports entertainment series had done in America. He remembered reading about it, but he was too busy plotting with his son Shane in the whole Greater Power scheme to pay attention... "What do you want?" Vince asked, not wanting to pause any longer in front of the Lord. "I'm already at the lowest point of my career. My life, even. If you're going to smite me, now would be the time. Or smite Austin! That works too!" "Smite? No no, McMahon-san! I don't smite," Kasumi laughed gently, smiling to him. "Actually.. I had an idea. You're very unhappy with Austin-san, aren't you?" "I thought you were omniscient." "I am, but it's polite to ask. Well... how would you like him to face the greatest champion of Magical Crossover Troubleshooting Fighting Federation Ultra?" A surreal request. But... a grand champion? Of THE tournament of the lord? God's warrior... she was offering him the most powerful man alive, JUST to whomp that madman's ass! True, he didn't know who was the champion of that outfit, but he had to be something else indeed! "You would put Austin against this man?" Vince asked. "Oh, certainly. I think they may have business to take care of. But actually.. I was thinking of something even more extensive. If you're interested, that is..." Vince McMahon grinned his evil little grin. "You better believe I am, miss. You better believe. Finally... Austin's gonna have NO CHANCE IN HELL!" * Back in Japan, the greatest warrior of Ultra summoned his righteous power, his unbelievable strength, and grappled with his opponent. He WOULD win. He WAS power made flesh. He would OPEN THIS JAR OF PEANUT BUTTER!! "RRGHHHHAAA!!!" Stone Cold Dan Hibiki screamed, his forearm muscles flexing... And a moment later, the peanut butter jar fell, still sealed shut, and Dan was sobbing and massaging his strained muscles. * ARE YOU READY, TRUE BELIEVERS?! IMPROFANFIC AND TITAN SPORTS* HAVE TEAMED UP TO BRING YOU { M A G I C A L C R O S S O V E R } { F I G H T I N G F E D E R A T I O N } { .-----------. } { | U-L-T-R-A | } { `-----------' } \\ // //\\ \\/ \\ \\// o \\ \\ //\\ //==== \\ \\// \\// \\ \/ /\ \/==== \\ //\\// \\// \/ __-----------___ / Written by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne * WWF characters and trademarks used in a non-profit manner without permission, all are copyright Titan Sports, 1999. (IE, save a copy now before we get sued. ^_^;) Timeline Continuity as of 6/19 : Between Ultra #13 and #14 Before King of the Ring '99 * The stadium ROCKED. This was a special night. The UltraDome had been rebuilt... and extra seats had been added just for this event. Americans flew into Japan, on complementary travel provided by Kasumi so they could see their favorites. Fans intermingled. And sometimes broke out into fights over who was better from each of their camps, but the spirit was still one of intense excitement. Titan Sports provided the fireworks. Ultra provided the music. And it was officially underway. Hiroshi was bubbling over with twitching glee; sugar or no sugar, this was big. "Folks, we are LIVE AND DIRECT from the newly restored UltraDome!!" he shouted. "And this is the event of the decade... it's MAGICAL TROUBLESHOOTING CROSSOVER FIGHTING FEDERATION ULTRA vs. THE WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION! That's right, Ultra vs. WWF! Over the top fighting action vs. the finest sports entertainment has to offer! Karate vs. wrestling! It's America vs. Japan, it's This vs. That, it's--" "A cheap ploy to bring in commercial audiences from both camps and crosspromote our goods," Daisuke suggested, "But either way, even I am slightly excited. We have a lot of matchups tonight, with the finest from both camps participating. And joining us tonight is special guest announcer, from the WWF, please welcome Jerry 'The King' Lawler." "WHAT A NIGHT!!" Lawler squealed in joy. "We're gonna see some of the best superstars the world has to offer! I'm excited!" "I'm excited too!" Hiroshi bubbled, recognizing a kindred soul. "Now I'm worried," Daisuke said, with a note of doom. * Backstage, plots were being hatched. Or at the very least, tossed together in some rough fashion to form some kind of relatively coherent strategy. "We can't lose this time," Controversial Jack said, pacing around the dressing room. "Sex and Violence merchandise is at an all time low! How are we going to push these 'Maximum Sweat Johnny Cage Action Figures' when you keep LOSING!?" "Hey, C.J., don't panic!" Cage said, adjusting his shades. "These wrestling guys are all fakes! Whereas The Cage is NOT a fake. All I gotta do is beat the living hell out of whoever this guy is like I normally do, he's not going to know how to fight back. Victory for Sex and Violence is ASSURED, baby!" Jack held up Mr. Duck. "Talk to the Duck, 'cause the face don't wanna hear that. Watch your ass, Cage." * The crowd mumbled. Who was going to be first? Of course, the music had the answer. *Do you SMELL what The Rock is cookin'?!* the speakers blared, and the crowd got on its feet, hooting in appreciation. The decibel level was enough to implode a poodle. Planes dropped out of the air from the shockwave. Etc. "Folks, welcome 'The People's Champ', the one, the only, the constantly referring to himself in the third person... THE ROCK!" Hiroshi shouted. And out strode The Rock, wearing a signature $500 dollar shirt, and $700 dollar sunglasses. He was a large man, no doubt, and walked with absolute confidence to the ring, despite the unfamiliar territory... climbing the rope, looking at the crowd, and raising... HIS EYEBROW. "That's his entrance pose?" Daisuke asked, squinting. "I don't get it. Why is everybody cheering for his eyebrow?" "It's the PEOPLE'S EYEBROW!" Hiroshi cheered. "I don't own it, and I'm The People." Jerry Lawler cupped his microphone to silence it, and leaned over. "Hey, Daisuke... I don't know how you crazy Japanese do it, but it's like I'm always telling J.R., you're thinking too much..." "It looks like The Rock's going for a microphone!" Hiroshi narrated. "Let's hear what he has to say!!" Sure enough, The Rock stood in the center of the ring, glancing at the millions... and millions of The Rock's fans, before launching into his opening speech. "Looks like The Rock's opened up a branch of the Smackdown Hotel here in Tokyo!" he said. "You better believe The Rock is ready to open this show up with a bang. I don't care what jabroni comes walkin' down that ramp, The Rock is gonna lay the smack down on his ROOTY-POO..." He paused, waiting for the fans to finish the sentence for him. "What's the next word supposed to be?" Daisuke asked, confused. "...his ROOTY-POO CANDY ASS!!!" The Rock supplied. "IF YA SMELLLL... what THE ROCK......" Long pause. Look at the crowd. Eyebrow goes UP. "Is COOKIN'." "You Americans are weird," Daisuke decided. "Weird?" Lawler asked. "You're the ones with the fireball tossing mechanical schoolgirls in skirts!" "Now, the question is: Who in Ultra is worthy of challenging The Great One?" Hiroshi wondered. "Daisuke, you got a copy of the card? I ate mine." "...you what?" "Clones need fiber." And then the opponent entered.... and the crowd went silent. Then murmured things like 'HIM?' and 'What, that loser?' and so on. Johnny Cage didn't frown. No siree, he was damn confident, because he was just too cool a guy to let a little thing like having no fans whatsoever faze him. He strolled on down to the ring, and grabbed a microphone from a passing flunky... intent on out-taunting The Rock. At out nursery-rhyming the Great One. "Hey, Rocky," Johnny said, after climbing in. "Yeah, you. I saw some of your shows. You're nothing but an ACTOR, pal!" The Rock paused, studying this jabroni. Smirked. Raised his microphone. "Well, that's funny, 'cause The Rock's seen some of your movies, John Boy, and The Rock can say you're not much of an actor. So The Rock's got one up on you, if that's the way it is." "A witty comeback for The Rock!" Hiroshi announced. Cage twitched. Just slightly. "Well, pal, I got two words for you : WHATCHA GONNA DO when THE CAGE comes down on you!?" "Stupid jabroni can't even count," Rock mocked. "You come struttin' down there like you own the place and your trailer park trash ass can't even add up to six? You got NOTHING on The Great One, jabroni. The Rock's gonna make this quick." "Is 'watcha' a single word?" Hiroshi wondered. "Bah! Johnny Cage never backs down from a fight! Bring it on, I'll take you Monday, Tuesday, any day of the week! You can't escape the Cage!! I'm mighty or something!" Lawler was scratching his head. "I thought you guys were running a fighting show?" "It's just Johnny," Daisuke explained. "Watch and learn." Johnny laughed at The Rock, tossing his microphone away. He could finish this fight off in one punch-- The Rock punched him once in the face and Johnny's sunglasses snapped clean in half. As did his ego. Cage's brain did backflips from the blow. He flew back into the ropes, sagging back against them -- just in time for The Rock to dive in, grab him and hurl his weak little bod onto the mat, in the center of the ring. Half conscious. "...b...but you're a fake!" Johnny exclaimed in disbelief, staring up at The Rock. "How.." And The Rock raised the People's Eyebrow in response. The crowd cheered, of course. That was his answer. Cage whimpered, breaking into a sweat. "The power...! The sheer ego of your eyebrow raise is crushing my confidence! It's like staring into the sun!! No more, no more! Mommy!!" So The Rock raised his eyebrow again. Cage started to twitch slightly, his mind stunned into submission by the awesome waves of absolute determination and good self image coming off The Rock... Who started to slowly remove his elbow pad. "Oh no! It's the People's Elbow!" Hiroshi shouted. "The most electrifying and most unbelievable move in Sports Entertainment!" Rock looked left. Looked right. Ran to the ropes, bounced, skipped over Cage, bounced off the other side... And a yellow duck impacted off his forehead. He staggered to a halt, confused. Steel chairs, yes. The occasional baseball bat or hockey stick, perhaps. But ducks...? Diving into the ring behind him, Sofia grabbed The Rock's people's arm and pinned it behind his back, while Controversial Jack climbed into the ring, armed with a very large anime mallet. "HEY! That's a disqualification!" Lawler whined. "Ref, toss them out! ....hey, where's the ref?" * A broom closet backstage rattled, like the sound of a small fairly useless italian plumber in ref's clothes jumping against it repeatedly. "Hello... I'm-a gonna disqualify you for this, I will! Really. If I ever get out..." * Sex and Violence held The Rock at bay, their fearless leader advancing like the march of dimes. "Time to knock the socks off The Rock!" Jack grinned, heaving the mallet back... The Rock waited until the last second... then kicked off with one foot, HARD, spinning himself and Sofia around. And ducked, as best he could... *WHOMP.* Sofia staggered around, head visibly ringing from the blow. She gave a weak little smile of dazed confusion, and collapsed. Leaving Jack to face a very angry Rock. "Err..." Jack said, hiding the mallet behind his back unconvincingly. Giggling nervously. "Comrade? Ah. No hard feelings? I'm down with the Brahma Bull. If you smell--" The Great One stepped right up to Jack, and put his shoulders into a lock. Rock Bottom time. He lifted Jack up into the air, and slammed his spiky haired candy ass directly down, impacting with a WHAM that shook the ring. And the crowd goes wild! (Yaaay.) "I think The Rock wins," Daisuke stated the obvious. "Jack's not going to be happy about this," Hiroshi said, watching The Rock entertain the millions... and millions of The Rock's fans with post-match posing. "When he wakes up, I mean." * Knock knock. "It's time for your match, sir!" a voice said. "Sir? Are you in there?" The dressing room door opened. Nabiki looked around, seeing nobody. Looked under the desk. Under the bed. Then opened the closet. It was hard to do, but Mr. Satan had managed to jam his entire large-scale form into his not nearly spacious enough closet. True, he may be in a permanent prism shape from then on, but if it had worked... HADN'T worked. "I'm not hiding!" he instantly defended. "Your match is up next," Nabiki stated. "We can't let the fans down, can we? Come along, come along." "But I have a headache! A cold! Oh, my stomach! I'm not in the finest form, I couldn't possibly--" Nabiki held up a videotape. "I could always air the footage Kasumi recorded after the fact of the Apocalypse Brawl--" Mr. Satan adjusted his fighting gi, and walked to the door. "What're you waiting for? I have to go for the sake of my fans!" * "Folks, we've got a special match for you now!" Jerry Lawler announced. "It's a BOILER ROOM BRAWL, between (that idiot) Mankind, and Earth's Greatest Hero, Mr. Satan! For those of you not in the know, Mankind is a mostly insane guy with a business tie and he talks to an inanimate object!" "Insert Controversial Jack Joke Here," Daisuke supplied. "Let's go LIVE to the boiler room of the Ultradome, where Mick 'Mankind' Foley is waiting for his challenger!" The cameras cut away to... a dark and dingy basement. Lots of heavy equipment, lots of metal pipes, plenty of loose objects perfect for being thrown around and swung at people. And a fat guy sitting down in a poorly lit corner, wearing a Hannibal Lechter mask and adjusting his tie, rocking back and forth slightly. "We've got to make a good impression, Mr. Socko," he said to his hand (which was wearing a sock with a cute black magic marker face on it). In his other hand, he held a small Sailor Moon tankubon. "This is a new country deep in rich cultural fortitude and packed with vitamins and minerals. So let's practice our japanese. 'Do-mo-arr-ee-gaah-to'. That means 'I will not buy this record, it is scratched'. And 'Con-ee-chi-wah' means 'I am bleeding very badly, can I please have a bandage' because it's very important to be polite in this country..." The door to the boiler room opened, streaming florescent light in. Light shilouetting the one, the only, the most powerful man alive... Earth's Greatest Hero, who Nabiki shoved in roughly so he couldn't make a run for it. "Remember, first one to win is the first person out alive," Nabiki reminded. "Alive?!" Mr. Satan boggled. "Have fun!" she smiled, and shut the door. ...and Mr. Satan looked around the dark boiler room. Eyes instantly seeking places he could hide. This Mankind person sounded like he'd be trouble -- not that Mr. Satan, grand champion, couldn't handle it, but it may be a good idea to ambush him with great force and surprise anyway just to make sure of victory. And if that failed, he had packed thousand yen bills and was a master of the off-camera bribe. So he walked into the darkened, steam-filled boiler room, which closely resembled something off the set of 'Aliens', and took three steps before Mankind came down on him like the descent of man. "AAHHGOAHOHGANA!" he screamed incoherently, because it would be impossible to scream that coherently. He landed squarely on Mr. Satan's back -- causing the latter to scream like a little girl and spin around, trying to pry the heavy whacko off him. Mr. Satan ran backwards, to smash Mankind against a wall; and ended up slamming into the cameraman instead. * The TitanTron snow crashed, spraying nothing but static. "Video link's dead again? What's with Mr. Satan and technical difficulties?" Daisuke asked. "It doesn't matter -- Mankind's such a raving idiot, he'll lose anyway!" Lawler said. "Boiler room match or not, he's licked." * "Uncle! Uncle!" Mr. Satan screamed, running away from Mankind, who was busy waving a four foot iron pipe in his general direction. He turned a sharp corner, rebounding off a filing cabinet; Mankind unfortunately crashed into it at high speed, losing the bar and staggering off into a pane of glass. *CRASH.* There were times when the poor guy was just as accident prone as Mihoshi. "Here! Cash! Greenbacks!" Mr. Satan said, tossing a fistful of yen at him, before he could grab Kasumi knows what else and hit him with it. "We don't have to fight, look, see? Just let me get out of here!" Mankind scooped up some of the money.. frowning in confusion, squinting. "What's this funny paper? Where's George Washington?" "It's Yen!" Doubtful, Mankind stuffed a bill in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "It doesn't taste very rich." A few oil filters toppled off the dented file cabinet, just happening to play a BA DUM BUM CHING! rimshot in comic timing. "No offense, Mr. Satan -- if that is your real name -- but this is a Boiler Room," Mankind explained. "And that's with a capital B and a capital OOM. It's my turf, and for all Mankind, I need to pound your head in. Have a nice day!" Before the alleged Mr. Satan could protest, Mankind stepped up, grabbed him around the midsection.. and slammed him through a wooden table, near the main boiler. cRUNCh. Mr. Satan's mind decided to take a nap, until his body nudged him awake. But it was too late. The next thing he saw was Mr. Socko, coming right at him. And then the Mandible Claw was on, and he was tasting the fine delights of a grungy, never-washed sweat sock that normally hid in Mankind's pants stuffed into his mouth and hooked around his jaw. There are few sensations that can accurately map to the experience Mr. Satan was going through. Perhaps if you were to go out into your garage, open the nearest trash bag, and begin dry-swallowing everything you could while burying your face in a toilet and wearing Calvin Klein's CK1, you'd be equivalent. But there's something simply... unique, about smelling what the sock is cookin'. "MFMFMFMMGMFGR!" Mr. Satan muffled in agony, as his arms and legs windmilling around in a way that would make Don Quixote excited-- He accidentally kicked the release lever on the boiler. Flame shot out of the hulking beast of metal, and Mankind sniffed the air. Bacon? Oh, wait, he was on fire. That must explain it. "Hey, wait, I'm on fire!" he realized. He started running around, looking for an extinguisher, managing to knock over a stack of boxes holding thumbtacks, running through a plate glass window and making an entire row of easily breakable sheet rock slabs come topping down until he finally fell face first into a pool of nuclear coolant, severely irradiated. Mr. Satan just... blinked, in surprise. Then he ran for the door. * And emerged, face to face with Nabiki and a cameraman. "The winner... MR. SATAN!" Hiroshi announced, from the stage floor. "Told you, told you!" Lawler cheered. "Who's the man? Who's the man?" The cameraman walked inside, to inspect the damage.. and it was severe. Stuff knocked over, broken sharp things everywhere, and Mankind bobbing in a pool and glowing a pale green. Medical support crews wearing heavy lead shielding fished him out with a large pair of tongs. "...my god, who IS Mr. Satan?! Mr. T?" Lawler shrieked. "That's unbelievable! What power!" "Mr. Satan is indeed helluva tough. He's not Earth's Greatest Hero for nothing, you know," Hiroshi said. "Folks, we've got plenty more action coming up! Stay tuned!" * [Scene : The Void. Nothingness. The absolute anti-life, the end of all things, the ultimate fate of all matter. In the center of this world of darkness and pain exists the Orochi.] NARRATOR: He is the incarnation of the darkness within us all. His hate knows no boundaries. His power is infinite. There's only one way to satisfy his hunger. [The Orochi holds up a can of Chef Boyardee Overstuffed Ravioli.] OROCHI: When the wheel of time shatters, there shall only be me, and my tasty pasta. And a microwave. Let us return to nothing and enjoy a wholesome dinner. NARRATOR: CHEF BOYARDEE -- FEED THE NEED! * Backstage, Yotsuya had cornered a certain Brahma Bull on his way back to the dressing room, and wasn't going to let him go before he could ask some deeply probing questions. "How are you enjoying your stay in Japan, sir?" he asked, jamming the microphone right under The Rock's nose. "...get that thing away from me, jabroni," The Rock scowled, poking Yotsuya in the chest -- like a snake, Yotsuya slid backwards a foot without moving. "As for Japan, The Rock thinks it's a damn fine country, but your Ultra candy asses fail to impress The Rock. When The Great One, The Chosen One came here, he was expecting to lay the smack down on someone the likes of your Ranma Saotome, not--" "BANZAAAAI!" The Rock looked around -- and came face to face with the seat of a chair. He staggered into a wall, where ALL of Sex and Violence -- Cage, Sofia, Morrigan and Lillith -- immediately pounced, pinning him there. Yotsuya slipped into a broom closet to righteously cover this late breaking developing in privacy and comfort. Controversial Jack, with a pillow tied around his waist to guard his very sore hiney, approached. He took a few test swings, then levelled his controversial gaze upon The Rock. "Okay, pal, that was a real cute show," Jack said. "But you don't get something here. *I* run this show. Not Kasumi, not Orochi, none of those little do-gooders and evil-doers. And you do NOT smack the boss around if you want your dental plan and 401k investment opportunities!" ...and The Rock spat on him. "Know your role and shut your mouth, jabroni. I don't care how many freaks in costumes you throw at me, The Rock just made your candy ass FAMOUS out there." Jack flinched. He frowned in disapproval, swung back the chair... Five hundred gallons of water came screaming in from stage left, washing Jack out the conveniently placed exit door. Sex and Violence stepped away, in shock... and found themselves looking down the business end of a fire hose, toted by Shingo Yabuki. "KYAAA!" Shingo battle-cried, and cut loose again. Morrigan and Lillith swapped split second glances and simply teleported away -- Cage and Sofia got a mouthful of high pressure H2WHOA. They staggered away, and ran for it. The Rock rubbed his sore arm (he had only recently gotten it out of the People's Cast, after all), and looked at his rescuer. "Good move, kid. The Rock would've whipped 'em all even without you, of course." "No problem, Rock-san!" Shingo cheered, losing the hose. "I watch your stuff every week! I'm your biggest fan!" "That's great, kid. The--" "TRAIN ME, sensei!!" Shingo begged, getting on his knees. For once, The Rock was speechless. * Back at ringside, things were about to heat up. Because if they didn't, ratings would drop, and that was a Bad Thing. "We're just about ready for the next bout, and it's gonna be an OMEGA fight!" Hiroshi cheered. "Normally, we wouldn't be insane enough to pit a normal human against an Omega fighter, but this one specifically requested it, and--" *No chance, 'cause that's what you've got...* A loud wave of boos washed over the audience. Hiroshi blinked. Checked his breath. What was... oh. Vince McMahon and his body wonder son Shane had entered. With mikes. Lawler immediately took the opportunity to kiss up to the McMahons, grabbing his microphone enthusiastically. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome the SOON TO BE 100% controlling owners of the WWF, Mr. Vince McMahon and Mr. Shane McMahon!" Boooo, the crowd went. "Now, hold on here!" Vince shouted. "All of you, shut up! ...Kasumi! I want to talk to you. I don't care if you are God, I'm not getting on my knees to pray for your arrival, we've got something to disc--" Kasumi appeared in the ring (since it's obligatory to taunt from great distances). She only held a mop, as she was busy cleaning up after Shingo's spill -- didn't need a microphone. Smiled a lot. "Is there something wrong, McMahon-san?" she asked, sweet as sugar. "You're damn right something's wrong!" Vince said. "You in the booth -- put on that tape I made from the past Ultra episodes!!" The TitanTron started up... showing Stone Cold Dan Hibiki. Taunting. Rolling around. Making a general ass of himself. Blowing himself up. Losing and losing... Vince pointed at the recording accusingly. "THAT is your grand champion? THAT is the man you're proposing to defeat Stone Cold Steve Austin?? You tricked me, Kasumi! You knew I hadn't seen your show, you knew I didn't know Dan was a wuss!" 'ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!' the crowd shouted. Vince looked surprised, for a change. Why were they shouting him down? It was TRUE, wasn't it? "Apparently Vince is unaware of the hometown heat Dan has around here, skilled or not," Daisuke comprehended. "He's not going to win any popularity contests slamming our.. *cough* champion." "How could these people disrespect Mr. McMahon like that?!" Lawler whined. "Don't they know who he is?" Kasumi never lost her smile. "I have great faith in Stone Cold Dan Hibiki, McMahon-san. I think it'll be an even match. I can understand, with all those out of context clips, how you might disagree, but--" "Out of context? What more context do you NEED?" Vince shouted back. "You want to make it fair, though? Let's make it fair. Since apparently I have NOTHING to gain from this... not that Stone Cold Steve Austin is even HALF of an athlete, but your little wad of bubblegum is maybe a NINTH of one... how about if he puts his title on the line? No disqualifications! No holds barred!" "Can he do that?" Daisuke wondered. "I mean... how could a WWF superstar hold an Ultra belt?" "Kasumi's god! She can do it if she wants," Hiroshi reminded. "Now hush, I wanna hear this." Kasumi considered the situation. A brief look of thoughtful pause crossed her normally empty expression.. then resumed looking just as innocent and unknown as always. "Why, I suppose that would be an interesting match. Dan would be so happy to defend his title. I accept." And the crowd goes wild. (yaaay.) Vince and Shane exchanged evil grins. Nodding in glee. Then Vince turned back to the Lord. "You're on, Tendo. I'm gonna take great pride in humiliating your little federation by putting YOUR grand champion's belt in the hands of that disreputable, obnoxious--" And glass shattered. No glass in particular, but the sound of it filled the arena... and the sound of loud, grating rock music. The fans went even more wild than before. (They were on an analog sliding scale from 'wild' to 'soccer hooligans' by this point.) Vince and Shane looked around in a panic -- they were standing at ground zero, for whoever would enter... "Oh no! Not him!" Lawler shrieked like a cheerleader. "Yes, folks... making his Ultra debut..." Hiroshi built up. "Please welcome... STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN!!" A low rumble shook the arena, like a massive footstep... and another. And then, the TitanTron... lifted up, a huge purple hand ripping it out of the stage decorations. Vince and Shane ran like the heels they were, to the relative safety of the ring, as the entire entrance area of the UltraDome was torn out by the roots, and... Evangelion Unit 01 crouched down, its head entering. It extended a loooong arm into the arena, and opened... Stone Cold Steve Austin stood there, mike in one hand, beer in the other. A briefcase tucked under one arm. He stepped out, to the deafening roar of the crowd, and saluted with the beer to Eva-01. "See you at the bar after the show, Shinji," he declared. "OH MY GOD! Look at the mess! The This Old Dojo crew is NOT gonna be happy," Hiroshi babbled, out of his mind with excitement. EVA-01 stood up (causing more structural damage), and climbed out of the arena, leaving a gaping hole where it was. The This Old Dojo crew groaned, and got to work... repairing the entrance ramp with their world-renown speed. Stone Cold ignored them, raising both arms to the sky, in a victorious crowd-riling pose. Then he pointed to Vince and said some things that would be edited out. Vince said some nastier things back, also inaudible. Then the real taunting began. "I figure," Stone Cold began, "I figure this here's Ultra, and hell, Stone Cold's gonna be just as over the top as the rest of the damn show, so no zamboni or beer truck is gonna do for MY entrance, nuh UH!" "Seems he's been watching us on a regular basis," Daisuke said. "Dan's in trouble, if that's the case..." "Now, about this whole 'Stone Cold Dan Hibiki' thing?" Stone Cold asked. "Vince, I know your monkey ass is responsible for setting me up in this. But I got myself a better plan, and seein' how I'm the CEO of the World Wrestling Federation and you sorry sons of bitches ain't -- and I mean that in the most respectful corporate-type way, you bastard -- let's make this more interesting." "Heeeere it comes," Hiroshi chirped. "Austin, you are NOT calling the shots here," Vince shouted back, as Stone Cold popped open the briefcase, ignoring him. "I'm the one in the contract with Kasumi. I'M the big shot here! I'm--" "Gomen nasai, McMahon-san," Kasumi interrupted. "But technically... the 'big shot' would be me. In the overall scheme of things. I'd like to hear what Austin-san has to say, he may have a very nice idea. So let's be polite and not interrupt him, minna-san." "But didn't Kasumi interrupt Mr. McMahon?" Lawler asked, not liking it. "Are you going to tell her not to?" Daisuke reminded. Austin reached into the briefcase... and drew out a plain vanilla folder. Of course, it was STUFFED to the bursting point with papers, documents, and so on. He held it high. "Bein' a corporate honcho now, I've been doing my homework," Austin explained. "Now, I could give a rat's ass about this Dan punk's title. I'm gonna stomp his sorry ass through the mat, and that's all I got to say about that. But Vince, I've got here your rap sheet." "...rap sheet?" McMahon asked. "I've never been arrested and you know it--" "Actually, this here's out of HEAVEN'S files," Austin said. "Which Kasumi was kind enough to let me raid before the show." The McMahons stared at Kasumi, unbelieving. She simply smiled. "Way I see it, and I'm no legal expert, but a Texan knows a thing or two about the seven deadly sins," Austin said, "Vince, you ain't been workin' and playin' well with others. I reckon a fellow like you's gonna get what's coming, so why not cut the red tape like I've been doing at your company and make things easier? So, if I win against 'Stone Cold' Dan Hibiki... whaddya say we put YOUR ass on the line? I win... you go STRAIGHT TO HELL." "WHOA!" Lawler screamed. Vince.. paled, visibly. Looked to Kasumi for some confirmation. Who was still just smiling sweetly. Only one person in the arena wasn't stunned enough to be left speechless. Shane grabbed the microphone away from his father, who was making one of those 'Oh no, I'm damned' faces, and asserted himself. "Now, that is hardly what I'd call FAIR, Austin," Shane said. "So let's level this out. If you're so hot on fighting for my dad's soul... how about if DAN wins, he's completely pardoned by the lord?! No hold barred, no disqualifications! Everything on the line!" And that way, when the pinko loses, I get the company, Shane smiled internally. "I don't give a rat's ass, son," Austin said, with a shrug. "Whatever you want, it won't matter. Tonight, I think I'll get Vince out of what's left of my hair once and for all -- and that's the bottom line, 'cause STONE COLD said so!" His music started up again, and fans tossed him beer from the sidelines -- which he caught with practiced ease, and started chugging. Vince sagged a bit on his feet, propped up only by his son. Kasumi had vanished, without a word... Jerry Lawler's jaw hadn't left the desk since the whole debacle began. "What kind of a show are you people running!?" he jabbered. "Now poor Mr. McMahon's gonna lose his soul! Not that Austin's any good in the ring, but... not that Dan's any good, I mean..." "Kind of hard to pick which side you think will screw up this time, isn't it?" Daisuke asked. "Folks, that is one HELL of a main event, and I do mean that literally!" Hiroshi cheered. "We--" All the lights in the arena went out. "Oh, no.. NOW what?" Lawler sobbed. "*YAHOOOOOOIE!!!*" Pink spotlights snapped on, focusing... as out of the newly repaired backstage area came none other than Stone Cold Dan Hibiki, rolling at high speed. He barrelled towards a loop-de- loop ramp that a stagehand had wheeled out while the lights were off... Dan whirled through it like a cannonball, flying out the other side, and landing on his feet only a short distance away from Steve Austin. He wore the golden Gamma Championship belt around his waist, he had all the heat of a crowd driven to madness behind him, and his forearm was OUT, in sheer mighty taunting style. "STONE COLD DAN HIBIKI ACCEPTS THIS CHALLENGE!!" he screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "For the honor of my father... OYAJII!! I burn with the fury of a thousand warriors, as the ultimate grand final impressive very interesting indeed champion of ULTRA! You who would call yourself Stone Cold... prepare to be smashed into itty bits at the true STONE COLD FISTS of DAN! PREPARE! HERE I COME!" But Stone Cold simply rolled his eyes. "Not NOW, you idiot! Later, at the main event! Jesus, son, I know you've got some tiny measure of brains to you, get your own job right." Dan paused. "We aren't fighting right now? But I got this neato loop de loop ramp set up and everything!" Steve Austin just shook his head. "I'll stomp a mudhole in you later. I got business to take care of now." Then he brushed Dan aside, and walked on out of the arena, posing once for the crowd before exiting. "...yeah... well... PREPARE! HERE I COME AT A LATER TIME!" Dan amended. Taunted a bit for the crowd, and rolled back out of there... not realizing that the ramp was only meant to work one way. He impacted against the (quickly repaired) TitanTron with an audible WHAM. "I'm think I'm definitely not comfortable about this whole thing with Mr. McMahon's soul now," Lawler said, getting a big- ass anime sweatdrop behind his head as Dan slowly slid down the surface of the giant television screen, and collapsed into a little heap of agony. * You may ask, how is it possible for Jerry Lawler to get a sweatdrop behind his head? It's not something that normally pops up on Raw is War. (Perhaps it'd show on WCW, with their snazzy graphics...) "The reason," Washuu explained, adjusting her reading spectacles a little and studying her notecards, "Is that the laws of physics themselves tend to bend around the individuals in Ultra. The exact cause of this phenomenon can be highly varied, but it has many similar results. Fireballs don't burn you to death, chainsaws can't kill you very easily, and life becomes more dramatic than ever thought imaginable. And such possibilities can be exploited!" Her student nodded once, impatient to get on with the lesson. She tisked, and tossed a chalkboard eraser at him. "Now now, you asked for my help in your upcoming fight, and education is the key to higher knowledge! And sit up straight." "...yes, sensei," Ken Shamrock said, his usual seething rage somehow silenced by the power of Washuu's teacher's authority. * Hiroshi tried to get his bearings, as the technical toadies wheeled Dan's ramp away (and the medical crew wheeled Dan away). "What exactly was I announcing before we got interrupted?" "Insanity and the Omega division," Daisuke reminded. "Right. Thanks. SO! Normally, we wouldn't be insane enough to pit a normal human against an Omega fighter, but this one specifically requested it, and who are we not to oblige? He's stylishly late, of course, even with the delay we just experienced... so let's go LIVE to the Hellish City of Dis, where the stone hearted Omega force onto himself, Sephiroth, is awaiting his challenger!" "Poor Mr. McMahon might be headed there, if Dan Hibiki doesn't get his act together!" Lawler cried. Daisuke glanced at him, with a 'Are you on crack?' look. He covered his microphone. "Why do you keep kissing up to that guy, anyway?" "The pay is good," Lawler replied quietly. * Dis was the most awful, the most horrible, the most terrifying place you can imagine. Unthinkable atrocity was committed behind its walls. Screams filled the air. The humidity was thick with vaporized blood. It was hell. It was darkness. Sephiroth simply thought it was rather balmy. He had no interested in these pathetic mortals, but this one had called him out very specifically. Apparently, someone who believed they could take him on. Perhaps with proper skill with the sword, or with enough materia (a cheater's tool.. the son of Jenova needed no such toys) they could provide him exercise, but... An iron bell rang. Sephiroth's attention was raised. He refused to underestimate the challenge, preparing his sword, ready to face... The portal opened, and a well built figure in black robes emerged, followed by a tubby little fat guy. The man in the robes posed, throwing back his hood of woven darkness... and his eyes rolled back into his head, mist flowing out of the portal to enshroud him. When his eyes levelled out, he gestured to Sephiroth, and spoke. "I had wanted to challenge the Orochi, but he has been humiliated. You will do," The Undertaker said. "For I am the reaper of men, and the taker of souls. Your darkness will never overcome the purity of evil that I represent. The blackest sin nestles cold in my heart, and fuels my power. And YOU, Sephiroth, will know that my name is the Lord of Darkness." Then his eyes rolled back into his head again. "I'm leaving," Sephiroth announced, turning his back. "Kneel before me, Son of Jor'... Jenova!," Undertaker taunted. "Or do you lack the strength to meet your maker?" And Sephiroth just.. LOOKED at him. "You are serious about this, human?" "I am the Lord of Darkness! You will face my unholy--" "[Silence,]" Sephiroth said, a seething whisper, a power word. And the Taker found himself quieted. This had to be a mistake, Sephiroth thought, examining his power, his lifeforce. No... it was not. "Very well," Sephiroth said. "We will fight. But first..." And with lightning speed, the leather gloved hand of the grey-haired swordsman was on the Taker's forehead. A grim silver light wrapped around them. Paul Bearer objected, but couldn't do much of anything. "Know this," Sephiroth said. "I will not allow you your delusions. You are not the 'Lord of Darkness'. This isn't your playground, you have no real powers, you're about as evil as a McDonald's hamburger and all you are is a pathetic little over the hill man banking on a gimmick. You are a t-shirt. You are a guest appearance on a bad horror show, at best. Any beliefs to the otherwise are now purged from you, as they seemed to be clouding your judgement. This is all you are." With that, Sephiroth withdrew his hand, and returned it to his sword hilt. The Undertaker... blinked a few times in surprise, then started to look genuinely worried. "Now face me... 'Mark'," Sephiroth said. "Oh shit," Taker replied. And ran for it, like any completely ordinary person would, given the circumstances. Unfortunately, he ran directly into the gates of Hell. Sephiroth smiled at Paul Bearer, who chose to dive through the portal in a mad rush. It sealed behind him. "So the game begins," Sephiroth said, pleased. And phased out of reality, to pursue his quarry. * "...oh dear," Hiroshi said. "Well. Erm. I guess that about wraps it up for the Undertaker, doesn't it?" "This show is dangerous!" Lawler exclaimed. "What was Mr. McMahon thinking when he agreed to this?!" "Don't worry, nobody really gets killed here," Daisuke said. "Son Gokuu's out there somewhere, he'll keep things under control. But that match could take awhile, so let's move on, and we'll keep you guys updated on the Undertaker vs. Sephiroth fight as it develops. For now, we have a Hardcore matchup for you... from the looks of things, it's going to be marvelous Super Heroes vs. Street Fighters rules." "And you know what that means... what Hardcore match would be complete without... THE Hardcore champion and mutant super hero, WOLVERINE!?" Hiroshi asked, gesturing... And out he came, in his yellow and blue tights, and his fully sharpened claws. He crossed his claws in an X symbol in front of his (beaten up) Hardcore belt and growled an animalistic snarl. "Since when did that guy join Degeneration-X?" Lawler asked. "Yes, folks, it's the most angry man alive, Wolverine!" Hiroshi continued, as Wolvy ignored the cheers of the crowd, making his way to the ring. "He's been screwed over more times than I can count here in Ultra, and fought long and hard to earn the respect of the fans. We can expect one heck of a match out of him, especially against an ordinary human, given his mutant powers!" "Mutants?" Lawler asked, getting nervous. "You have mutants on this show?" "You've got the Blue Meanie," Daisuke reminded. Red warning lights flashed. Rock music played. A robot at the ringside started wailing to Wil Robinson about danger... "Please welcome, professional street fighter and the World's Most Dangerous Man... KEN SHAMROCK!" Hiroshi welcomed. Ken, wearing his fighting gloves (earned doing actual brawling in another federation, proving he wasn't all talk) strolled down the ramp, neck veins bulging, eyes bugging out. He was one angry man, indeed. "Ken's natural rage may be enough to face down the snarling Wolverine, but how can he hope to match Wolverine's powers?" Daisuke wondered. "Kasumi may have to break out the mop again..." Ken Shamrock paused at the turnbuckle, before climbing in, doing his usual 'Warm up, get even madder' routine... breathing heavily, thinking unhappy thoughts. But this time, when he beat on his head, and screamed... he lit up. Lit up in a very impressive way, flaring red with a battle aura that would rival Akuma's. The wind whipped around him, a few stray objects falling upwards in the wake of his power. He glowed with chi, with fighting intensity, as he stared down Wolverine, muscles bulging on his muscles... "WHOA!" Lawler yelled, diving for cover under the desk. "Who mutated Shamrock?! Call my lawyer! You people are NUTS!" Wolverine raised an eyebrow (but not a People's Eyebrow) in response.. and that was enough of an opening. Shamrock flipped off the turnbuckle in an impressive display of Matrixian physics, and rushed Wolverine -- grabbing him, whirling him in an arc and FLINGING him into a turnbuckle, at heavy speed. The entire mat shook. "I'm excited," Daisuke mellowly stated. "It looks like someone's been showing Shamrock how we do things around Ultra. When it comes to over the top fighting action, nobody beats us." "RAAAHGHGHH!!" Shamrock screamed, flaring up with power again. He taunted out Wolverine, pointing at him, and making a cutting motion across his throat. Wolverine groaned, prying himself away from the physically bent turnbuckle post. He snapped his claws to full length. "Okay," he said to himself. "If that's how the guy wants to play it..." And he rushed, claws whirling like a shining blur, flying in all directions at once. Shamrock simply held up his arms and somehow that blocked all the damage with a series of sharp 'thud' noises. In a quick motion, as Wolverine was just coming out of the attack, Ken grabbed him by his pointy little ears, and hurled him into the air. Then the two launched thirty feet up, Shamrock opening a fresh can of aerial rave combo whoopass, score marks ticking steadily up -- until in a leg-lock throw, Wolverine was hurled down to the concrete around the ring. Ken landed in the ring, screamed some more, and did his best to keep his drama level up, just like his teacher taught him. Hold onto that fighter's spirit and don't let go... "Someone get this guy a contract!!" Hiroshi cheered. Wolverine snapped out of it, shaking his head loose... growling. Extreme measures, then. He walked over to the announcer's desk, and tore it off its foundations -- Lawler, now exposed, panicked and dove for new cover in the audience itself. "Hey, bub, catch!" Wolverine shouted... HURLING the desk at impressive velocity. Ken was caught off guard, and got the full weight of the announcer's desk in the chest... hurling him backwards thirty feet, tumbling end over end and CRASHING into the ramp, forming a sizeable dent in it. The mutant acted fast. One bounce into the air, off the middle of the ring for a springboard, and out to the ramp -- pouncing on Ken and jamming his claws into him again and again and again and again and again... then hurling his body aside. Of course, this being fighting spirit physics, all Ken did was lose a portion of his stamina. And gain a great deal of super combo power, with a short chime to indicate the charge was ready... "This isn't going to be pretty," Daisuke summarized. Time paused. Swirling power formed around Ken Shamrock. And around his partner in arms, who had jumped in from backstage, glowing green, and ready to start up a crossover Union Strike on Wolverine... "SHAMUROCKU BLITZU!" Ken shouted, sending a flurry of punches and kicks into the air, knocking waves of red fire towards the target... The green glowing Mankind, recently arrived, grabbed the ramp and SNAPPED it like a wet towel, sending a whirling bulge of concrete at the target. "GAMMA WAVE!" Sixty seven hits later, Wolverine was down. "Ken Shamrock wins!!" Hiroshi screamed, as the crowd went nuts (which it was supposed to do). "Looks like he's learned his lessons well here in Ultra!" "Mankind smash! Mankind crash! Hey, I look good irradiated," Mankind said, examining himself. * Backstage, though, celebration was not the cause of the hour. Vince McMahon paced around his dressing room in a nervous fit. "This is insane. This is INSANE. My soul is in the hands of Steve Austin and DAN HIBIKI?!" "Maybe we could make a run for it?" Shane asked, trying to be helpful. "Don't be dense, Shane, you can't run from the lord," Vince grumbled, having a seat. "This isn't good. This isn't good at all. You realize what this means, right?" "...you're going to have to repent your sins for everybody you stepped on and everybody's life you crushed on your way to the top of the ladder of success in one great act of goodness and charity?" "NO!" Vince shouted. "We're going to have to.. HELP Dan. I'll get the Corporate Ministry together. It's time for a war council. If--" There was a knocking at the door. An intern leaned into the dressing room. "Three minutes, Mr. McMahon!" Vince looked up in despair. "What NOW?" "Not you," the intern said. "Him. Shane, you're needed in three minutes for an Omega rules matchup against Lina Inverse, at the Greenwich MegaMall. Suit up." The door closed. Both McMahons paused in terror. "...isn't 'Omega' that one with gods and psychos and monsters in it?" Shane asked, quietly. "Um. Dad? Can I borrow the Corporate Ministry for a few minutes?" "Sorry, son, but my soul comes first," Vince said. " "Okay, I understand," Shane agreed. Bastard, he thought. Fortunately, Shane always kept some reserves. And if the battle was going to take place THERE... he fingered his cellular phone, and keyed in a number. * And in the ninth layer of hell, a war WAS going on! How's that for segment linkage? Mark Calloway, AKA the Undertaker, was running pretty much for his life. And he was doing it in the worst possible surroundings, the living, breathing embodiment of Clive Barker's entire film library. Without his delusions of darkness and evil godhead, all he had room for in his head was a steady stream of 'oh shit oh shit I'm going to die oh shit'. Sephiroth took his sweet time floating around behind him, casually demolishing large parts of the city of Dis around him, never enough to knock out the Taker, but enough to keep him afraid. Of course, Sephiroth was not having fun. He was the son of Jenova and had his own set of emotions far distant from those of simple humans. But he was smiling for no reason he would relate. The Undertaker twisted left, right... kicked open a double set of doors, and hoped there'd be some shelter inside. Satan (looking oddly two dimensional and cartoony) looked up from his copy of 'Atlas Shrugged'. Saddam Huessein slept next to him. "Hey, who're you?" Satan asked. "This is my bedroom. Beat it or the jackals will feast on your entrails." Taker slammed the doors shut, knocked a dresser in front of them, and tossed a few chairs on the pile for good measure. (He WAS still one strong dude, even if his spine had been turned yellow.) Trying to ignore the pounding on the heavy doors, he turned to Satan. And pleaded. "HELP!" he pleaded. "There's a psycho out there trying to carve me open!" "You say that as if it were a bad thing." "He took away my ego! I can't do anything!" Satan grumbled. "If I help you, will you kindly leave?" "YES!" "Fine, fine. Ahem. [Woe o wretched humanity, for...]" * Sephiroth bashed the hilt of his sword against the doors once more. Now it was starting to become boring, as much as his distanced emotions could feel boredom. It would end now. "Fire," he said quietly, gesturing... and flames roared up around the offending closed doors, the wood flaring white-hot before collapsing into a pile of ashes to ashes. Flames licked the doorframe, smoke curling... A figure walked through the flames. Not stepping over them, or around them, but THROUGH them. Smoke curled towards him, the darkness reaching for the darkness... The bishounen swordmaster remained nonplussed, as the Undertaker faced him, looking zombie-like with eyes rolled into his head, pure white. "I suppose it is time to finish you," he said, drawing his sword. "It was almost entertaining." With that, he swung. The Undertaker raised one hand and caught the blade between two fingers with less than zero effort, eyes never leaving his prey. "As I said, wretched one," the Undertaker said, in a GENUINELY low and sinister voice instead of his usual rumbling imitation of one, "You will KNOW that my name is the Lord of Darkness." A raspy shadow enveloped the pair, swirling out like the plague over a mideval village... * ...none of which the folks back at the Ultradome were aware of. "Folks, we have another classic Ultra matchup ready for you!" Hiroshi said. "It's Shane McMahon, owner of 25% interest in the World Wrestling Federation, the only undefeated European Champion--" "Isn't that because he cheats?" Daisuke asked. "--and he's going up against 'The enemy of all who live', Lina Inverse!" Hiroshi finished. "No holds barred! Anything goes! It's Ultra as Ultra does best! Let's go LIVE to the Greenwich MegaMall in New York state, home of Vince and Shane McMahon! Will he have home team advantage? Will Lina stomp him flat? Stay tuned! It could get messy!" Daisuke turned to the Third Man. "For a change, you don't seem worried." And Lawler merely grinned. "Let's just say I know Shane, and Shane's always got an ace up the sleeve of his five thousand dollar suits!" "Let's hope it's flame retardant," Daisuke hoped. * Shopping is a fine art. It involves strategy (to beat others to those rare prices), resource management (budgets) and sheer physical determination (to cross the mall back and forth several times while carrying many bags). True shoppers are akin to martial artists, in many ways, capable warriors of the good shoe sale, zen masters of the price reduction hunt. Lina felt RIGHT in her element. She drove a hard bargain right to the point, sometimes literally, sometimes with sloppy results, but she always got what she wanted. And today would be no different. But she had made up her mind about one thing, as she warmed up in the clothing department of Sears. "No magic!" she declared. "And no sword. I've taken bandits down before using only my awesome grappling skills. I'd hazard I'm enough of a match for any of these pro wrestling losers! Ne, Gourry?" "I know! Sometimes it takes days to pop my shoulder back in!" Gourry said, impressed. "You're really good at senseless violence!" Lina grabbed him and tossed him into a nearby display, using pretty impressive leverage for a girl her size. "It's not SENSELESS!... it's poignant. It's, like... um... venerable and.. honorable... oh, hell, I don't know anything about martial arts, I just like to beat folks up. Bandits, especially, and it sounds like whoever this Shane guy is, he's stolen a lot of belts! And it'd be over too fast to be any fun if I just used a fireball... GOURRY! Are you listening to me? I'm philosophizing here!" "Why are there seven of you?" Gourry asked, in a limp heap upside down in a lingerie display, one eye focusing less than the other. "Hentai," Lina balked, and marched out of Sears, intent on dishing out some chaotic wild vio-- err, justice, INVERSE STYLE! * Meanwhile, hiding around the corner of an adjacent hallway (Boardwalk Fries, Darby Jewelers and the Comic Zone), Shane McMahon stood in wait. He was ready to do honorable combat, in venerable tradition of ancient fighting masters. But he'd be doing it in the full kevlar vest and combat helmet he had grabbed from Military Surplus Extreme down on the first floor, and he'd be toting an extremely large cricket bat and catcher's mask which he got from Sports Etc. right before they evacuated the mall. American Express. Don't leave home without it. And definitely don't leave home without your personal lackies, the Greenwich Mean Street Posse members, Pete Gas and Rodney. He'd also had them outfitted in a rag-tag mesh of army goods and sporting supplies. Pete toted a crossbow, Rodney had a boomerang and was toting along a tennis ball launcher, which they had to oil with a can from Car Parts And So On so it'd move quietly. "Okay, guys, take no prisoners," Shane said. "We don't stop until whoever this is is down on the floor busted up like a train wreck. You know what I say..." "Every day, somebody's gotta pay!" Rodney smirked in a goofy, sweater-vest wearing trust fund carrying rich ass white boy flunky sort of way. Pete peeked around the corner... watching Lina peeking into each of the stores, trying to find them. "Uh, boss? It's just some scrawny little girl in a funny costume." "Don't underestimate her! Everybody with a funny costume in this crazy federation can, like, throw fireballs and crap around!" Shane hissed. (And ironically, was not off the mark.) "When she gets close, pound her like a hamburger. Got it?" "Whatever you say, Shane-O," Rodney said. "You lead, we follow. Just like the old days on the mean streets of Greenwich, eh?" "Yeah! You remember that time we shook down all the freshmen for lunch money?" Pete Gas asked. "That was--" "HYAH!" Lina shouted, grabbing Pete effortlessly from around the corner, as he was talking out loud and blowing his position in a pretty obvious way to anybody more intelligent than he was. "KILL! STOMP! HURT!" Shane ordered, and then ran to hide. But Rodney just sort of stood slack jawed as Lina did a perfect backbreaker on Pete, then twirled him over her head and lobbed him into the nearest trash can. (This severely messed up his nice clothes and would require an emergency trip to The Gap later to heal.) Lina dusted off her hands, not wanting any of that sweatervest lint on them, and studied the next vict-- err, opponent. "Hi! Are you a part of Shane's bandit gang too?" "Yes?" Rodney said, not very bright. "INVERSE SMASH!!" * Shane McMahon twitched slightly, cowering under the counter of Boardwalk fries as he listened to Rodney screaming, along with various crunching sounds. Only in Ultra would a stupid little kid be an unstoppable killing machine. But Shane wasn't afraid, no no. McMahons knew no fear! They simply knew when to beat a retreat so they could use their awesome intellect to overwhelm their foe. Which he was doing right now. Thinking. And drawing a total blank. "Yoo-hoo!" Lina chimed musically, peeking into the store. "Shane! Are you in here? Come on, let's play!" Shane made no sounds. Slowly... slowly reaching towards the deep fryer. He just needed a good weapon... Lina walked into the restaurant, on a hunch. "You know, this is my job. I maul bandits. It pays really well, and I heard from Kasumi that you're really rich, so maybe we can work things out. How about.... two million dollars to call it even with only a few bumps and bruises! Or all of your American Express traveller's checks?" Wait for her to get closer. Wait... "I guess he's not in here," Lina sighed. "Darn. Too many stores to look in. Although I could get some shopping done while I'm here--" Shane GRABBED the handle, and jumped up.. hurling its contents at Lina. Sizzling hot grease and yummy, freshly cooked french fries went flying through the air, and caught her fresh in the face. "AAAH!" Lina shrieked, and covered. "HAH! That's what you get! Who's the man? Who's the man?!" Shane shouted, proud of himself. Lina looked at her reflection in a nearby display case of Frutopia. Seeing mostly minor red scalding burns. But as any girl knew, to damage one's skin or cut their hair is an unforgivable sin...... Shane jumped over the counter, taking some test swings at the air with his cricket bat. "Alright, you and me! You're not all that tough! One on one! Mano a womano! I'm an equal opportunity buttwhipper, you know! ... what's that poetry you're spouting? 'Darkness beyond twilight?' You're not the Undertaker, girl. If--" "DRAGON SLAAAAAVE!!!" * Pull back to an orbital camera... Boum. Wow, that's a bright light there, isn't it? * Back at the UltraDome, the picture was a little closer in, as the roof of the entire Greenwich MegaMall was blasted into the sky. The walls melted shortly after that. Valuable merchandise was scattered over a ten mile radius, inciting a small riot of looting which the national guard had to be called out to control. "Wow!" Hiroshi said, understating. "Man, if I was there, I'd be poking through the rubble to find myself a Dreamcast! We're trying to find out what happened to our competitors, folks, let's zoom in for a better look... And in the center of the blast was one very pissed off Lina, and a comedically singed Shane, Rodney and Pete Gas. Because for some reason, Lina never did any actual widespread Slaying when she whipped out the Dragon Slave. Lawler went into Lawler Spaz #145 ('Oh no! The heel got whomped!'). "AAAAAAAA!! Shane! Come back, Shane!!" "The winner is clearly... Lina Inverse," Daisuke declared. And the crowd goes wild. (yaaay.) "We're almost to the main event, folks. We'll be right back after this break with the match you've all been waiting for... Stone Cold vs. Stone Cold, with Vince McMahon's soul in the balance." "It's gonna be an old fashioned barn burning one legged man in an ass kicking slobberknocker!" Hiroshi mixed. "And--" The camera cut away, to a shot of Stone Cold Steve Austin, walking down a hall in a menacing fashion. "LOOK! It's Stone Cold, and he's.. he's... WALKING! AAAAAA!!!" Hiroshi screamed, diving under the desk. * [Shot of Farooq and Bradshaw walking down the entrance ramp, looking evil and minionlike.] ANNOUN: The Acolytes. Tag Team champions. Soldiers of darkness. Nothing can face them. They have really cool chest tatoos. Don't you want some too? [Washuu pops up.] WASHUU: Well, now you can! Yes, it's Washuu-chan's Instant Wrestling Gimmick kit! Want a tatoo without all those painful and permanent inks injected directly into your skin? Do what they do! [Washuu takes out a black magic marker and scribbles some evil looking symbol on Bradshaw's chest.] WASHUU: Or maybe you want cool nose piercings like that jobber, Droz? No problem! I've included a subdimensional piercing kit. Why penetrate your flesh when you can penetrate the FABRIC OF SPACE AND TIME? And you want masks? We've got masks! [She climbs a later, and takes off Kane's mask, revealing Kevin Nash under it. He freaks and runs.] WASHUU: Order now! It's only six easy payments of $999.99.99! And you'll be on your way towards being an overpaid actor placed in extremely dangerous situations too. * The tension was so thick you could cut it with a hydraulic powered industrial grade high pressure water drill designed to carve a two mile deep pit in the earth for purposes of mining for precious metals. "Folks, we have fulfilled our commercial obligations and will be coming to you with no more interruptions for the evening!" Hiroshi shouted. "And now, it's time for the main event... STONE COLD vs. STONE COLD! Who will prove to be as hard as a rock and who will melt like a whelk in a supernova?!" "And with us, a personal expert on all things hard and mineral-esque, the Chosen One himself, The Rock," Daisuke said. "Welcome to ringside, Rock." The Rock sat back, arms folded. "The Rock'd say it was good to be here, but it ain't. The Rock's just here to observe The Rock's handiwork." "Handiwork? You've had a hand in this match?" "Wait and see, candy ass." And the arena went from Well Lit to Pink and Poorly Lit. Dan's music started. The roof raised exactly three and a half inches as... he wheeled out a cannon. "It seems Dan's determined to out-do his premature arrival from earlier," Daisuke said. "Let's see if he survives his own entrance..." "If Dan knocks himself out before he gets to the ring, does it mean the match won't go on and Mr. McMahon can keep his soul?" Lawler asked. Dan primed the large pink cannon, testing it. Then he tucked himself into a ball, hopped into the nozzle... and with a cry of "OYAJIII!!" pulled the cord. BOOM. Dan shot out like a whirling pink ball of graceful humanity, shooting in an arc over the ring... ...bouncing off a trampoline he had positioned in the aisle on the opposite side perfectly... ...bouncing off the center of the ring, into one of the ropes, bouncing from there to the adjacent rope to the next and the next, making one full orbit before rolling to a halt in the center of the ring and springing to his feet with a mighty TAUNT. Then, because he had gotten so incredibly dizzy during his Sonic the Hedgehog impersonation, he fell over. Janitorial crews launched to stageside, but the audience was distracted; the challenger had arrived. Broken glass and strained heavy metal music signalled, as the CEO, the Rattlesnake, the Ragin' Texan trucked his bad self to ringside. Fortunately, it took more than a hypervelocity disorientation to keep Dan down for good, and he was on his feet just as the other Stone Cold one climbed into the ring. Dan hopped from foot to foot, warming up; his opponent just stared at him, not sure if he should attack or laugh. "Today, Steve Austin, you will be broken by the mighty fists of STONE COLD DAN HIBIKI!" Dan declared, taunting away. "And then you will know there can be only one Stone Cold, and it is I! He is I! I am he. You know." And Stone Cold Steve Austin ran away. "HA! Wimp!" Dan shouted, sticking out his tongue and completely forgetting that 'running away' in this ring simply meant bouncing off the opposing rope for some added velocity. Which Austin did, giving him a pretty impressive collision speed when he pounced Dan and proceeded to beat a dent into his skull. "A quick attack by Austin, and the match is on!" Hiroshi cheered. "A true battle of the titans! A clash of the giants! A--" "Shut your mouth, The Rock's watching this," Rock warned. "That piece of Texas trailer park trash ain't gonna win this one so easy." Austin kept it up until Dan's eyes were rolling around in his head in a largely independent way, then he climbed off. Kicked Dan around the ring a little. Then stopped. "Oh, hell, this isn't any fun. How do you expect to give the fans a good show when you're such a little bitch, Dan?" Dan weakly got to his feet... snarling in anger. "Urusai! Dan cannot be defeated by mere repeated blows from fists! He holds the awesome powers of Saikyo self-taught shotokan style! Observe!!" Power swirled into Dan's fist, in a weak, reluctant sort of way. "Shinkuuuu... GADOKEN!" And the fireball was away! It was gradually approaching Steve Austin! It was going to hit, any minute now! Look out! It's getting closer even as we speak! It's almost here! Give it a moment. "The hell's this thing?" Austin asked, unused to ki blasts, poking at it as it hovered there... BOOM. The tiny bolt of energy exploded in his face, knocking him backwards into the ropes. Dan followed up immediately, springing into the air. "DAN DAN KIIIICK!" "Dan takes advantage after the surprisingly boneheaded move by the Rattlesnake!" Hiroshi shouted. "What a match, folks!" Austin reeled from the blows to the head. And Dan followed up immediately with a merciless attack that knocked him unconscious and won the match. Or rather, he would have, if he wasn't Dan. Instead he chose to roll away and shake his mighty forearm at Austin, to show off his muscles and intimidate his enemy. "NOW you have born witness to the awesome power of DAN!" Dan declared. "Tremble in fear! For I fight for the vengeance of my father and none can stop OOF." Austin, of course, had gotten his bearings, and calmly walked over while Dan was taunting and kicked him in the stomach. "Show's over, son," Austin declared, flashing the middle finger, and locking Dan into a reverse neckbreaker... WHAM. The Stone Cold Stunner did its business. Dan bounced off the mat, and fell into a little heap of quivering pain. Still conscious, but mumbling for someone to bring him an Advil... "THIS COULD BE IT!" Hiroshi shouted, leaning across the desk. "It's all over! Austin's moving in for the--" *Do you SMELL what The Rock is cookin'?!* "Eh?" Daisuke asked. Looking to his left, where The Rock was already sitting. "Isn't that your music? If you're..." And out walked ... Shingo Yabuki, wearing, a $5 shirt and a $2.50 pair of sunglasses. He charged the ring, running down the ramp at high speed, and rolled directly into the ring. Austin just... stared, in confusion. "HAH! You're dead meat now, you five hundred pound back of monkey snot!" Shingo incorrectly quoted. Austin took a swing, but Shingo weaved around... grabbing him into a reverse hold as well. "ALMOST ALL THE WAY TO THE ROCK BOTTOM!" Shingo announced, being japanese and having a tendency to shout move names. And down Austin went in a rather flimsy and underpowered Rock Bottom, but it was enough to do enough stun damage to make the little birdies pop up over his head. Lawler stared at The Rock. "You.. TRAINED that kid?!" "Make no mistake, Shingo is NOT The Great One," The Rock said. "But hell, The Rock had nothing better to do except kick Jack around a bit, and that had already been taken care of. And he offered The Chosen One a doughnut." Shingo stood over his fallen enemy, and slowly took off the wrong elbow pad. "Behold!" he shouted. "BELONGING TO A FEW OF THE PEOPLE'S ELBOW!" And immediately started running back and forth across the ring. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right... "I think he got stuck," Daisuke decided. The Rock frowned. He stood up, and cupped his hands to his mouth. "HEY! OBI WAN JABRONI! You're doing it wrong!" "How do I finish the move?!" Shingo asked, still bouncing back and forth. "I forgot, and I left my notes in my other shirt!" On his way back across the ring, Shingo skidded to a halt, and ended up six centimeters away from a very, very perturbed Rattlesnake. Gulp. Austin kicked him, flashed the bird, threw in a mocking battle cry of "STONE COLD STUNNER!" and Stone Cold Stunned his ass. Shingo bounced away, sailing clear out of the ring and into the stands. "Rock-san, gomen nasaaaaaai!!!..." WHAM. Rock buried his face in his hands. "Advil, please." Austin turned, to face Dan, who was attempting to get up to his knees. Stone Cold Steve Austin wasn't gonna have any of that. He advanced. "As I was saying... show's over." Dan grimaced. "Damn you, insolent--" The ring shook. Austin stumbled, Dan fell over again. "What the hell--?" Steve managed, before the entire ring tipped onto its side. Revealing the WHOLE Corporate Ministry from their hiding place underneath the ring. Yes, that would be Vince, HHH, Chyna, Bossman, Midian, Viscera, the Acolytes, and even Paul Bearer. And of course, they immediately circled around the demolished ring, and gang-mugged Stone Cold Steve Austin. "Whoa! Hey! Ref! REF!" Hiroshi called. "I know it's no disqualifications, but in the name of HUMANITY, do something!" * "...hello? Is-a anybody out there? I'm-a getting very hungry in here, and would like to come out now... hello?..." * "Folks, we've got a war on our hands," Daisuke declared. "It looks like Vince is directing the whole company to soften up Austin. Although it'll take awhile to tenderize that meat enough for Dan to chew..." "Get him! GET HIM!" Vince shouted, pointing at Austin accusingly. "No way is that bastard gonna get MY soul!" Dan scrabbled back to his feet. "...will not give up... will NOT give up.." he chanted, shaking a fist. "I WILL win! I... HEY! Quit beating up my opponent! That is the job of Dan, not you!" The Pink One tried to push through the crowd. Vince blocked him, one tall angry man, shoving Dan aside. "Beat it, cotton candy man!" Vince shouted. "You'll get your chance with Austin once we get him ready for you. So shut up and wait your turn!" Dan glared. "You dare cheat to ensure Dan victory? This is not the way of the Shotokan martial arts! And therefore..." He turned to the entrance ramp... and gave a sharp whistle. "WHOA!" Hiroshi cheered with Surprised Shout #145. "Here comes the ENTIRE Spirit of Shotokan team to even things out!" "Get 'em!" Ken Masters shouted, charging at the forefront, with Sakura, Ryu, Sean, and various other obscure and unimportant fighters who copied their styles coming up from behind. Soon the fireballs were flying, grapples were being exchanged and the entire floor of the arena was packed with wild, indiscriminate fighting! The Rock raised an eyebrow. "Well. It's not what The Rock was expecting, but he's got to admit, this is pretty damn entertaining." "Good god!" Lawler freaked as usual. "It's a mob scene! How could it possibly get any worse?" BONNNGGG... a dark, ominous bell of forewarning resounded through the arena, as the lights.. died. "Lawler, you're going to have to learn not to SAY things like that around here," Daisuke grumbled. "If you guys need me I'll be hiding under the desk. I'm not as easily replaceable as Hiroshi is." In a flash of antilight, a thunderclap of darkness, two figures appeared, hovering over the arena floor. One was a dark horse, a lone warrior with a black soul and the fire of the gods in his veins. The other was beaten to a pulp and barely recognizable as Sephiroth. The Undertaker tossed Sephiroth to the floor, and pivoted in the air, wrapped with the maelstrom of his newly found power. "Now.. ALL of you will face the Reaper," Undertaker decided. And levelled his hands at the whole Corporate Ministry and Spirit of Shotokan, and did a series of energy strikes that would have made Emperor Palpatine jealous. Both groups were knocked back against the crowd dividers; the crowd was, of course, perfectly safe as this was Kasumi's show and she'd have no business with unsafe audiences. "...such power!" Ryu grimaced, trying to withstand it. "He has the Evil Intent!!" Vince stood, his suit slightly crispy. "Undertaker?!" he asked, unbelieving. "What the hell happened to you?" "Exactly," Undertaker replied. "I have no need of your pathetic corporation anymore. Now, *I* am the Greater Power. Taste your own damnation, McMahon..." Only a single warrior dared to stand up to this menace. One who knew no fear. One who feared no pain because he knew no fear. One with the guts and sheer moxie to do something absolutely mind bogglingly stupid. "You are interrupting my fight," Stone Cold Dan Hibiki intoned. The Undertaker flexed the fingers on both of his meaty hands. "You are interrupting my vengeance." "YOU are interrupting my fight!" Dan declared, shaking a forearm at the Undertaker. "This is an unforgivable insult to Dan's honor! He challenges all who insult his honor, and stands down to no one, for to do that would be wimpy and he is MIGHTY! he stands before--" "Your words do not impress the Lord of Darkness." "--no enemy without giving 150% of his power and will into the fight itself, so that he can do his very very best! And here you stand before Stone Cold Dan Hibiki, watching him taunt you (as the taunt is his ultimate technique, and it will destroy you, as you soon will see) and--" "Taunting?" Undertaker asked. "How can mere insults stop my unbeatable force?" "--and you do not realize that Dan, being a strategic master, has distracted you so much that you never saw the person behind you!" Dan finished. Undertaker turned. Stone Cold's Stone Cold eyes met the dead man's stare. Dan charged in, grabbing around the Undertaker's shoulders just as Austin did the same from the other side... "DOUBLE STONE COLD STUNNER!!" Dan shouted, and BOTH men slammed the Undertaker down, his neck making a nasty cracking sound as the weight crashed to the concrete below. The glow around the Undertaker wobbled, shook loose and broke away, his concentration and consciousness shattered. It howled in anger once, and sucked back through the floor, winging its way to the hell it came from. The Undertaker hit the ground, unconscious. The arena went silent in stunned shock. Giving Kasumi enough time to make her entrance, setting the diminutive plumber in ref's clothes down. "Hello, sorry I'm late for the start of the fight, everyone!" Kasumi said. "But someone locked poor Mario in a closet, and....... oh my. Were you throwing a party?" "Who-a ARE all you people?!" Mario asked. "Interference? From da Corporate Ministry and Shotokan? Not-a happening! I disqualify both fighters. End of match!" Kasumi looked at the Undertaker. Understanding what really happened. (Or did she know all along?) "Although... it seems you two did a lot of good here, and it'd be a shame to see you go away empty handed... let's just say both of you nice boys won. Everybody, I hereby declare Stone Cold Steve Austin and Stone Cold Dan Hibiki the winners!" And the crowd goes WILD. The roof raised so far it would probably have to be replaced, or at least fetched from the top of Mt. Fuji, where it landed five minutes later. "...no.. NO! You can't do that!" Vince said. "What happens to my soul?!" "Keep it," Kasumi suggested. "But no pardon for you." Austin shrugged. "Hell, this show's weird enough, might as well go with it and enjoy. You know? I'm startin' to like it here." He put a hand in the air and caught a flying beer, then grabbed a second and offered it to Dan. "Folks, we have witnessed Ultra HISTORY in the making!!" Hiroshi shouted. "That's it, it's over, and we are OUT of time! Good night, and see you next week!!" Dan, not able to hold his alcohol, giggled and fell over. -=- ][ ULTRA vs. WWF RESULTS RECAP: (no scores changed) ][ ][ THE ROCK def. JOHNNY CAGE. ][ MR. SATAN def. MANKIND. ][ KEN SHAMROCK def. WOLVERINE. ][ THE UNDERTAKER def. SEPHIROTH. ][ STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN ties with STONE COLD DAN HIBIKI. As the airplane took off from a Tokyo Airport, Vince McMahon glared out the window at the Ultradome. "She made fools of us, Shane," he said to his (bandaged from various burns and bruises) son. "FOOLS. Of the McMahons! No chance in hell of us letting her get away with that." "Mphmph!" Shane agreed. "First... we'll deal with the problems back home. Get the controlling interest in this company away from Stone Cold Steve Austin. But next time we meet those freaks... it's gonna be by OUR rules." TO BE CONTINUED?