Violence waits for no one, a famous author said.

 Well, we're not so sure about that.  A famous author might have
said it off the record or in the middle of his or her fifth beer.
What Daisuke did know, as he was sitting in the announcer's booth,
was that Hiroshi had said that seconds before a telecast once.

 That made it seem even odder, even ironic, since Hiroshi wasn't
there to say it this time.

 "Where the heck is Hiroshi?" he had asked into a headset, five
minutes before the "on air" sign was expected to light up and the
pyrotechnics were set to go off.  "I can't take any more guest hosts
here!"

 Nabiki's voice on the other side of the connection wasn't frantic,
but rather pained and almost final.  "He's here, Daisuke," she grumbled.
"He came in all ready for the show, but then ducked into the dressing
room again..."

 Daisuke sighed.  "I thought we agreed with Jack that the cabbit suits
were just too ridiculous to use for wardrobe this week," he pointed out,
looking down at his current outfit.  Sure, the bright orange "I'm A Jack
Fan!" T-shirts were painful to look at, but at least Daisuke wouldn't
be embarrassed on television.

 "No, he's not getting dressed in that," Nabiki reported.  "He'll be out
there.  Just start the show without him."

 Daisuke took a look at the crowd, more hooligan-ish than a soccer match
between Ireland and England.  "How can you be so calm right now, Nabiki?"
Daisuke asked.  "Especially with everything you've had to go through
with lately?"

 "Simple.  I won't have to deal with it anymore."

 And that was that.  Nabiki went back to her duties, what were left of
them.  Daisuke just took it all in stride and dropped a few Alka-Seltzers
in his glass.

                              LIVE!
                       FROM THE ULTRADOME!
                      THE BIGGEST SPECTACLE
                     IN ANIME AND VIDEO GAME
                      SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT
                        AND IMPROFANFIC!
                         IT'S TIME FOR...

            {    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 |              }
            {             `-----------'              }
            { http://www.pixelscapes.com/improfanfic }

               Episode 23 : Slobberknocker Sunday!
                     Written by Geoff Tebbetts

 The arena erupted with a cheer registering 5.6 on the Richter Scale.
Fireworks streamed from their strategic positions on each ringpost and
the massive Ultra entrance to the ramp.  Signs flew around, from "Mr. Duck
3:16 says, 'Squeak!'" to  "nWo: Naga World Order!".  The fans, even those
who sported body paint, wanted ultraviolence, needed ultraviolence.

 But Ultra's biggest fan hadn't come to the announcer's table.  Daisuke
was sitting solo, as Hiroshi was still M.I.A.

 "Welcome, fans," Daisuke greeted the fans and television viewers in his
best impersonation of his partner.  "Ultra is again on the air!"  He looked
around a few more moments, still a little unsure what to do.

 "Well, it looks like Hiroshi won't be coming out any time soon, but we do
have what he'd call...a slobberknocker...whatever that is.  Perhaps that's
why this is being called 'Slobberknocker Sunday'."

 Daisuke almost rolled his eyes.  He didn't like reading Hiroshiıs lines.

 "Tonight, we have some exciting matches lined up for you, as the contract
has been signed, sealed, and delivered," he continued.  "Jack has already
signed Dan and Mr. Satan to a Gamma championship match.  We have an Omega
belt challenge this evening, as well as a match between the two newest
Lambda teams.  Other than that, the night's going to be generally..."

 Daisuke never finished.  Music began to stir in the background.  Daisuke
didn't make the connection right away, but it dawned on him like a hazy sun.
For one thing, it was Hiroshi's favorite song

 "Oh, geez.  Donıt tell me Hiroshi..."

 Hiroshi strutted down to the ring, looking rather pleased with himself.
His wardrobe change was a bright one, fitted with sunglasses, some khaki
shorts, and a super-snazzy blue Hawaiian shirt.  He did his little turn on
the catwalk and made his way through the ropes.  Everyone in the arena could
see that the overly-loud announcer had a slight image change, but it looked
like he was either getting fashion tips from Principal Kunou or he was ready
for vacation.

 Hiroshi used a comb to doll up his hair a little, then grabbed a
microphone.  "HELLO AND WELCOME TO ULTRAAAAA!" he boomed like he usually
boomed.  "Tonight, we have one hell of a show for you all!!"

 The crowd went sonic, pushing the sound barrier even more.

 Hiroshi beamed.  "Folks, let's get right to the point," he began.  "When I
got the Hardcore belt at Ultrarage Beta, I was terrified.  I didn't *want*
to defend the belt at all.  I didn't want to end up hurting myself over the
gold, and I didn't think I could fight at all!"

 Daisuke shook his head.  "Hiroshi, you idiot," he mumbled into his mike.

 Hiroshi basked in the new-found glory that was the Hardcore belt.  "I
wasn't planning to defend it tonight, but thanks to the biggest break and
cafeteria dinner of my life, I now have the confidence in myself!  I'll put
my title up tonight!!"

 The crowd was a bit stunned.  Some even chuckled a little, but it was
fighting.  The response was mixed.  Daisuke, however, knew this was a huge
mistake and ran into the ring, in the first amazing display of...energy...
he'd ever shown at Ultra.

 "Hiroshi, are you stupid?!" he said into his microphone.  "This is fighting
we're talking about!  This is something we watched Ranma and his foes do all
the time at school!  This is something guys like us don't do!"

 Hiroshi took his time, adjusted his sunglasses, and grinned.  "Work with
me, Daisuke!" he guaranteed.  "In fact, thatıs going to be my classic,
overly-used catch phrase from now on!"

 As if it wasn't overly-used before, Daisuke thought.

 "I'm not as stupid as to challenge anyone, Daisuke," Hiroshi announced.
"That's why the challenger tonight must only be under five feet tall!  I'm
not so good as to challenge all the fighters out there right away, so this
will be practice, right?"

 Daisuke grimaced.  "Hiroshi, Happosai is under five feet tall.  Some of the
female combatants are probably under five feet tall, too.  And let's not
forget that some Po..."

 For the second time in the opening ten minutes, Daisuke was interrupted.
The speakers began to play entrance music with heavy synthesizer.  While the
crowd didn't give as big a pop as the star coming down the ramp had wanted,
it was pleased to have *some* action, for once.

 Pikachu was in the house.  Without the entourage.  Without the shades.
Without the cheezy costumes.  Just Pikachu.  And it was pissed.

 The movie deals were okay, but humans weren't looking up to Pikachu as the
star it was.  He had become yesterday's news overnight.  The thing that
finally pushed Pikachu over the edge came in its mailbox the other day: an
issue of Mad Magazine with its profile on the cover, asking readers what
manner it should be killed by.

 It was a horrible prank and worse PR.  Pikachu needed to take it out on
someone.

 "It looks like Pikachu's accepted your challenge, 'Hiro-kun'," Daisuke told
his friend before leaving the ring.

][ HARDCORE TITLE DEFENSE
][ HIROSHI VS. PIKACHU
][ FIGHT!!

 Hiroshi looked uneasy for a moment, as Pikachu made his way in.  "This...is
cool," he told himself.  "I can handle a Pokémon.  It'll be cool."

 It was cool at first, but when Pikachu charged with a shrill "Pikaaa!" and
zapped him but good, it was rather hot.  And painful.  Hiroshi dropped back,
his clothes and skin a bit sooty, but still conscious.

 "You want to play rough?!" Hiroshi shouted, his eyes spotting something on
the outside of the ring.  "Then let's play hardball!  Letıs play..."

 He leaped out and "borrowed" a red-and-white object from a kid in the
audience.  "...Pokéball!" he finished, throwing the object in a
split-fingered
fastball at the electric mouse.  It ponked off its head, sending the lovable
mascot to the ropes.

 The ball opened and did nothing.  Actually, the ball *broke* open.

 Hiroshi scratched at his head.  "Funny.  Arenıt Pokéballs supposed to grab
Pokémon?"

 He received a few cracks to the head with a very heavy purse.  The kid was
crying over his (now-broken) toy Pokéball, and his mother, who herself was
violent enough to be Pokémon #153, was beating the tar out of Hiroshi.

 "How dare you, young man!" she screeched.  "That was little Taro's birthday
gift!"

 Hiroshi ran back to the ring, avoiding more slaps.  "Ow!  Gomen!  Gomen
kudasai!  I'll repay you for it!" he cried.

 Heading back to the ring was one of the bigger mistakes that Hiroshi made,
even with the huge mistake of making a challenge in the first place.
Pikachu launched upwards, grabbed Hiroshi's head, and ran counter-clockwise,
scratching at Hiroshi's face.  When Pikachu finally let up, Hiroshi's shades
were broken, the hair was messed up, and he was dizzy from the sight of
seeing
yellow flash before his eyes.

 Daisuke rolled his eyes.  "And Pikachu with a terrific attack.  Folks,
Hiroshi's way out of his league here..."

 With that, the shortest title defense for the Hardcore Title seemed to be
complete.  Despite its short appearance, Pikachu changed the momentum and
tumbled, sending Hiroshi out of the ring with a toss.  Hiroshi landed on his
back, still awake, but shook up.

 "Pika pika!" Pikachu chirped cutely, yet dangerously, no doubt speaking
another four-letter word in Pokémonese.

 Hiroshi got up to his feet, dusted himself off, and...ran.  "The Saotome
Special Attack is good enough for me!" he bawled, looking for a hiding space
backstage.

 Pikachu followed.  It wanted to exact some more frustration out.  Once it
hit the backstage, it could see Hiroshi, who wasn't running anymore.

 He was taunting too, giving the universal thumb-to-nose sign.  "Stupid
sparkplug!" he bleahed.  "Come and get me!"

 "Piiiikaaaa!  Chu!"

 Pikachu launched a bolt at Hiroshi, who took a direct hit.  Surprisingly,
though, Hiroshi was still standing and still taunting.

 "Is that your best?" Hiroshi mocked, pulling an eyelid down.  "Are you sure
you Pokémon evolve?"

 Pikachu growled, still rather cutely, sending more shocks and zaps at
Hiroshi's form.  It was weird how he kept taking the hits as if they just
dissipated in front of him.  Soon, Pikachu was tiring, almost all of its
juice gone.

 One last attack.  The yellow Pokémon charged and leaped at Hiroshi with a
wild "Chu!"...

 ...only to meet glass.

 Daisuke cocked an eyebrow while watching him monitors.  "And Hiroshi
counters by using...a thick pane of glass?  I suppose he's smarter than I
thought."

 Pikachu's eyes were swirling, KO'd by a glass door like some housepet.  The
day was not the brightest of days.  Nurse Joy would be getting herself
another patient soon.

 "The winner and still the Hardcore Champion, Hiiiiiroshi!!" he declared
into the camera.  Despite the overall popularity of adorable Pokémon, the
crowd cheered for Hiroshi.  Daisuke was dumbfounded, but he was secretly
happy that Hiroshi was able to win, even if it was against a very small
competitor.

 "I'm almost...impressed," he said to the camera.  "Hiroshi used his
surroundings rather well, just like a Hardcore fighter should..."

 Hiroshi's celebration was shortly lived, not due to a competitor attacking
him, but with the sound of a small stampede.  He turned to see the familiar
sight of white with a red "R".  Team Rocket had found the opportunity of
a lifetime.

 "Ready, James?" Jessie grinned.

 "Ready, Jessie!" James grinned bishounenly, holding a rose.

 The two wound up and unleashed a simultaneous kick.  "Kick the Pokémon!"
they broadcasted, sending Pikachu tumbling into the air.  The Pokémon
screamed like a baby before crashing through a window.

 Hiroshi hadn't dropped a step after the fight.  "And Team Rocket unleash a
double kick on Pikachu!" he shouted into a microphone placed very
conveniently nearby.  "What a dastardly attack!"

 Hiroshi's straight-man partner gave a look of disbelief.  "Trey and Matt
are
going to sue us to death," he sighed, as Team Rocket ran off before anyone
could catch them brutalizing Pokémon.  "We'll be right back after these
messages."

 ******

(Ash, Misty, and Brock are all sitting at a picnic table, enjoying a nice
lunch, some Pokémon around them enjoying it with them.)

Ash: These peanut-butter crackers are delicious!

Brock: Yeah, Ash!  Nothing like them!

(A yellow Pokémon turns its head upon hearing them and waddles over, tugging
on Misty's socks.)

Psyduck: (looking hungry) Psy!  Psy!

Misty: (looking down) Oh, do you want some, Psyduck?  Here you go.

(She flips two Saltine crackers layered with peanut butter in the air, which
Psyduck snaps up.  He looks pleased with himself, until...)

Psyduck: (suddenly startled) Psy?  (tugging on Misty's sock again and
pointing at the roof of his mouth) Psy!  Psy!!

Misty: Oh, you want another?

(Misty flips another two into Psyduck's mouth, who is even more frantic now,
scraping at the roof of his mouth.  Ash, Misty, and Brock are laughing
amongst themselves and drinking milk.  The pictures alternate between
various
gulps of milk and various pained expressions and tortured looks from
Psyduck.
He uses various techniques, from hopping up and down to holding up an empty
glass to banging on a bass drum with "Milk!" on it.)

Psyduck: Psy!  Psyyy!

(He spots the solution, a pitcher of ice-cold milk on the edge of the picnic
table.  He scrambles over, tugging on the tablecloth.  From a camera view on
the opposite side of the table, we see Ash, Brock, and Misty all laughing
and chatting absentmindedly, while the pitcher is slowly tugged over to the
edge and over the side.)

Psyduck: (voice-over) Psyyyy!

(We hear a loud *thunk*, just as the screen switches to that famous slogan.)

Man's Voice-Over:  Got Milk?

(We see the pitcher intact, milk spilled, and Psyduck on the ground, eyes
all swirly and bump on the head.)

Psyduck: (woozily)  Psy-ai-aiiiii...

 ******

 Jack mused to himself amidst a room filled with junk and almost frowned.

 With his new level of power, he was able to wreak all the havoc he wanted.
The chihuahuas were a stroke of pure genius last week, and the "head" and
"shoe" corner jokes still made milk squirt out of his nose when he drank
and thought about it.  He even had a howl when he first changed the gold
Gamma belt into a gold-foil-wrapped chocolate belt.  That was funny for
the first ten minutes, but then the chocolate melted.

 But he wasn't happy.  He was amused, but not happy.

 As funny and so truly bizarre as those pranks were, that's all they were.
Pranks.  He didn't have enough power to do anything that were deserving of
the "Controversial Jack" name.  He had to find that "god head", whatever
that was, and he had to find it fast.  He had been brought shower heads,
arrowheads, lettuce heads, and many other "head"-related materials, but
the pinhead of a gang were beginning to give him a headache.

 "Tonight, Mr. Duck, we'll have to achieve new levels of controversy!" he
told his yellow plastic right-hand duck.  "And if this isnıt the most
over-the-edge, eye-bugging night in Ultraıs history..."

 Jack picked up one of the dozens and dozens of Jack's darts and tossed it
at the picture on the office wall.  The tip wedged right in the center of
the winked eye, pretty much the only spot he hadn't hit before.  Thanks to
that purple-haired twit, he had rummaged through the entire Ultradome five
times and had found nothing.

 "...then I'll have Xelloss drawn and quartered or have his toenails ripped
out or given a really bad haircut.  Something nice like that."

 A knock made his next shot veer off and hit his coffee mug.

 "Jack, are you in there?"

 Jack swung around in his swivel chair with a cheery "whee!"  The knockıs
provider entered the room, figuring only Jack would greet her like that.

 "Ah, Nabiki Tendo!  My fave behind-the-scenes expert!  What can I do you
for?"

 Nabiki sighed a moment, before slapping a paper on the desk.  "Mind telling
me what this transaction is for?" she asked in a droll little voice.

 Jack put on a pair of oversized glasses.  "Hmm.  Looks like an invoice," he
correctly answered.

 "Yes, very good.  Now, can you tell me WHY you sold our censoring
equipment?"

 Jack leaned back and folded his arms behind his head.  "Simple!" he crowed.
³We don't need it!  We did such a good job without it last week!  Not only
did it make things all the more controversial, but it gave us a huuuuuge win
in the television rankings!"

 Nabiki folded her own arms in front of her.  "You have GOT to be kidding,"
she said icily, sounding more and more like the calculating person Nabiki
used to be.

 "In fact, we're so popular that I may make full frontal nudity and cursing
a requirement!" Jack proclaimed.  "Imagine!  The resurrection of Jello
wrestling!  What do you think?"

 The wrinkle of worry had been pushed past its breaking point.  "You want to
know what I think?" she snapped.  "This is what I think!"  She grabbed Mr.
Duck from his cozy perch on the front of Jack's desk and did the
unspeakable.

 She set him down on the ground, much to Jack's howls of "Nooooo!", and
brought her heels down very sharply.  Jack's mouth hung open when he heard
the sick squeaks coming from each stomp of Nabiki's shoe, the last one being
a lingering step and twist.

 Jack felt like every bone in his body was fractured, including his heart.
"Wh...what the hell did you...?"

 Nabiki slapped a second paper on Jack's desk, one with her signature on the
bottom.  "That's what I think of your ideas!" she barked.  "They all suck!
You've made my difficult job here even harder with your crappy ideas!"

 Jack was too disturbed by Mr. Duck getting the stale air beat out of him.
The duck was fine, managing to fill in and regain its rubber shape, but he
knew that the trauma Mr. Duck just went through was numbing.

 "From here on in, you can find yourself a new employee!" Nabiki growled.
"I quit!"

 Jack looked up from his beat-up companion.  "What are you trying to say?"
he asked, a little afraid of Mr. Duck's condition.

 Nabiki didn't just storm out of the office.  She did a Level-5 hurricane
out of it.  Jack was left with a resignation letter and a barely-squeaking
Mr.
Duck.

 "Kasuuuumi!" he shouted from the office.  "Get me a first-aid kit!  Get me
a
medic and a veternarian!"

 The sweet tones of his assistant echoed back.  "Right away, Jack-sama!" she
chimed.

 Jack rubbed at his forehead, trying to think.  Mr. Duck would be okay with
some proper care, but Ultra had to go on.  He couldn't let a little thing
like
Mr. Duck's injury distract him from completely throwing things into utter
chaos.  His mind whirled with random phrases and mental Rorshach tests until
he finally came up with a brilliant plan.  A completely, out-of-his-mind
idea.

 "Lumberjack!" he declared!

 ******

 By the time Hiroshi had returned to the announcer's table for work, he was
grinning broadly.  Undefeated as a hardcore champion.  He liked the sound of
that.  He had changed back into his regular clothes, joining his partner.

 Daisuke looked sideways to Hiroshi.  "Not bad, Hiroshi," he said.  "I'm
surprised at how well you handled that."

 Hiroshi flexed a muscle.  "No problem!" he grinned.  "I feel so full of
life after that match!  I could get used to this, you know?"

 Daisuke paused.  "I guess you could.  This was all from that date with
Ayanami?"

 Hiroshi grinned in embarrassment.  "I think so, yeah.  Just a small meal at
the cafeteria.  I mean, it went pretty well.  We have a lot in common!"

 "Well, she's quiet and reserved.  You're loud in front of the camera."

 "Steal my sunshine, why don't you?" Hiroshi asked.  "The show's about to
get back on the air."

 ******

 The ring was again ready to hold its slugfest.  The announcer looked at his
card nervously, as one should when about ready to introduce an evil
entity's goons.

 The entranceway was suddenly electric with action, as Filterıs "Welcome to
the Fold" sounded through the speakers.  The Orochi's trademark "Black Disc
of Death" formed with its travelers stepping from the shadows.

 "Ladies and gentlemen, this Lambda match is scheduled for one fall," the
announcer began.  "Entering the ring, representing the Orochi, Yashiro
Nanakase and Shermie.  The Void!"

 Shermie slinked up to the ring, blowing kisses to the crowd with a hand,
while Yashiro strode behind her.  Their entrance was one done in darkness,
their blood-red uniforms haunting in the absence of light.  They made their
way in, ignoring the plethora of jeers from the crowd.

 "A hostile environment tonight," Yashiro told Shermie.

 Shermie dismissed it all.  "Who cares?" she grinned smugly from under her
bangs.  "Orochi-sama told us to do what weıd like tonight, just to send a
message.  I was thinking we should stick around for what Jack contacted us
about."

 Yashiro smirked.  "That does sound interesting.  I wouldn't mind doing some
dirty work tonight.  By the way, how did you escape from the Cajun last
week after he turned you in to those Shotokan creeps?  Orochi was so
livid that he refused to help you."

 Shermie giggled.  "That lawyer you got for us before we entered the
fighting circuit did the trick.  He forced them to let me go by threatening
them with a lawsuit and a restraining order."

 Yashiro smirked.  "And I thought *we* were evil."

 The lights switched on (much to the crowd and non-Orochi fighters all
wincing in pain from the sudden light), and the music switched to the sound
of a lone wood flute, various quiet percussion strikes, and the pluck of a
tight string.  Cherry blossoms began to fall from the ceiling, as the next
two combatants entered.

 "And their opponents in this match, Tatewaki Kunou and Haohmaru!"

 Kunou made his way in first, the student leading the master.  The outfits
hadn't changed at all, Kunou striding out in blue and black, with Haohmaru
following in his dusty white gi and omnipresent sake bottle, which was
currently planted between Haohmaru's lips for a pre-match slug.

 Kunou entered the ring first through the hailstorm of blossoms, taking the
microphone from the announcer.  "The reign of terror devised by you infidels
will cease to be tonight!" Kunou spat verily.  "Justice from our swords will
be swift and quick!"

 "Agreed!" Haohmaru also quoted firmly.  "The path towards victory will be
laced with Orochi's blood tonight!"

 Hiroshi blinked a moment, covering his mike with a hand.  "Isn't Haohmaru
supposed to be...louder than that?" he asked.

 Kunou must have notice everyone in the arena mentioning that.  "Alas," he
wept into the sound system, "my master has laryngitis."

][ LAMBDA MATCH
][ THE VOID VS. HAOHMARU/KUNOU
][ FIGHT!!

 Yashiro strode out first, as Haohmaru pushed Kunou out of the ring.  "Let
me handle this first!" Haohmaru barely boomed to his partner.  "Watch and
learn!"

 Being a subordinate of evil, Yashiro didn't wait for bells or for Haohmaru
to turn back to the fight.  He ran against the ropes, elbowing Kunou in the
cheek and laying a sliding punch into Haohmaru's gut, staggering the
samurai backwards.  He began an attack of various punches, all of which
seemed to rock the ring as they met with his opponent.

 Haohmaru dropped back, finally able to unsheathe his reversed sword.  "You
will not be able to do that again!" he hollered rasply.  His forward strike
missed the henchman, but torque from the twist brought Haohmaru's sake
flask up in an arc, smashing against Yashiroıs chin.

 "A brilliant attack!" Hiroshi shouted into his microphone.  "But will the
referee let it stand?"

 The bald (and on-loan) referee hmmed a moment.  "I'll allow it!"

 Yashiro felt his loose jaw.  "Cheap shot," he mumbled, allowing a tag to
Shermie.  She skipped in, just as Kunou made a blind tag on Haohmaruıs
shoulder.

 "I would like the pleasure of fighting this one," Kunou declared
poetically, as he entered with a rose.  "But once again, I make this
bargain," he proposed to Shermie.  "If you should win, I will allow you to
date with me."

 Shermie grinned mischievously.  "How about we just start with the
good-night kiss first?" she bubbled, letting another blown kiss fly.  The
air crackled once around Kunou in warning, a second before a zap engulfed
the upperclassman, sending him into his corner.

 "Fool!" Haohmaru scolded, smacking Kunou across the back of the head.
"Don't go back to those tricks!  The ways of the samurai must not involve
such invitations!"

 Kunou stepped back up, bokken out.  "Yes, master!  My humblest apologies!"

 Shermie rushed forwards for a crescent kick, her foot missing Kunou's head
wildly as he ducked away.  This left her wide open for attack, Kunou
reaching up with his master's words.

 "OUGI KOGETSU ZAN!"

 The strike was clean and firm, an uppercut shot to Shermie's midsection.
Shermie fell back onto the mat, clutching her stomach.  Kunou just pointed
his weapon down at her.

 "Surrender now and allow us to declare victory," Kunou demanded.  "Do not,
and suffer consequences."

 Shermie managed a weak grin.  Her foot rose sharply, testing for Kunou's
testicular fortitude with a kick to the groin.  All of the men in the
audience immediately bent over, sharing Kunou's pain.

 The pain didnıt stop there, as Shermie bounced off the ropes, jumped up,
and performed a "Shermie Spiral" on Kunou, pinning him face-down to the mat
with her bottom.

 Kunou spent the next ten seconds wishing that it was Akane who had done
that.

 Yashiro smirked as Shermie went to work weakening Kunou.  Things were
working to perfection, the plan being to work on Kunou and combine attacks
to
finish the student off before he could tag the master.

 A tap on the shoulder, however, distracted him.

 "This spot on the edge of th' mat be taken, mon frere?" a New-Orleans drawl
spoke from the side.

 Yashiro whirled around with a punch blindly, knowing exactly who to be
facing.  Unfortunately, being a lesser incarnate of the Orochi didn't make
Yashiro as omnipotent as Orochi, as Gambit's staff contacted skull.  The
crowd
cheered more in excitement for the other fight, drowning out the sounds of
the scuffle from Shermie's ears as she approached her corner.

 "Yashiro-kun, itıs your turn," she grinned, looking into her corner.  But
there was no Yashiro; Gambit had sunk him like a leaky boat in the bayou.
This allowed a quick tag from Kunou, leaving Haohmaru to clean house.

 "Ready, my student?!"

 "Ready...sensei!" Kunou blurted out, as he cleared his head.

 Haohmaru turned Shermie to him, who was too distracted to counteract.
"Combined Hiougi Tenha Danku Retsu Zan!" he managed to roar.

 His sword's uppercut was firm, contacting Shermie's midsection again, as
his sword scraped at the canvas.  A small shift in the air rose up, as
Shermie
found herself rising up in the air, a controlled cyclone dragging her
upwards.  Kunou brought himself up to the top turnbuckle, leaped high, and
brought his bokken hard against her back.

 The next second passed like an eternity for Shermie, as she fell to the
mat.  Defeat.  This was something she didn't want to have to explain to
Orochi twice, but the sudden disk of black matter below her signaled that
she
would have to.

 The bell rang.  Shermie had returned to Orochi, with Yashiro's beaten body
following, much to Gambitıs dismay.  Beating answers out of people wasn't
good if the answers never came out.  He simply lit up a cigarette and walked
off.

"This ain' over, 'Rochi," he puffed.  "We be comin' for the girl next time."

 Kunou stood up, standing firm in the eyes of his master, as the crowd
raised the roof.  Haohmaru wasn't all grins for the outcome, but allowed one
after it all sunk in.

 "You make me proud to call you my student, Tatewaki Ku...!"  It was like
the power went off on his own personal amplifier, as Haohmaru grabbed at
his throat.

 Kunou helped his master along, as they exited the ring.  "A lozenge!" he
commanded.  "Willst someone get my master a lozenge?"

 The crowd cheered more.  Their ears would be able to hear now.

 ******

 Thousands of miles away, another crowd roared with feverish excitement,
holding signs that reflected their emotions.  However, this electricity,
this
sheer enthusiasm was not the product of a superstar mauling some hapless
jobber or the anticipation of having the champions sign autographs.

 No, this electricity was dictated more by the neon "Applause" sign that
glowed from the ceiling of Studio 4B, somewhere in California.  The
anticipation was more on the grounds of winning a Flucotti rug, a vacuum
cleaner, or $500 in cash.

 Or something a bit more important than that.

 Naga crossed her arms, licking a lollipop, her customary sweet of
preference.  She really didn't want to be in this place at the moment, for
Lina's sake.  She hadn't been in good spirits, ever since her partner died,
but she did have hope to run on.  She just couldn't believe that she'd be
looking for one-seventh of the solution in a place like this.

 Besides, the AC in the place was absolutely chilling her to the bone, and
the guy dressed up as a potato next to her smelled like rotten ones.

 Darshu sat next to Naga, bubbling over from the buzz the crowd was feeding
him.  Sure, he was all pensive and quiet over the shock of having his
stablemate's essence ripped out and squeezed like fresh grapefruit, but that
wasn't like him.  Heck, he knew the feeling of having one's heart ripped out
of his body; he had done that to himself once, and if he could come back
from
the dead...

 "Death's not final for us," Darshu cackled.  "We'll get Lina back.  Let's
just enjoy being here.  These were free tickets, after all."

 Naga gave a final sigh and dismissed her feelings.  She looked down at the
gadget-radar-thingie in her hands and saw the coordinates.  Exactly the
place they were in.  The second Dragon Ball had to be in this place.
Otherwise, why would the radar have brought them here, and why would
Xelloss have sent them the tickets?

 The game-show host merely grinned, his perfectly pearlly-white teeth
gleaming in the light while he escorted an old woman off with the food
processor she had won.  "Now, then," he said in his
"I'm-so-faking-to-be-excited"
voice, "who here in the audience is next to make a deal tonight?"

 ******

 So many times Lina Inverse had been in heaven.  This time had been the
first she was literally in Heaven.  Those other times were when she was
at her favorite restaurants, immersing herself in buffets of roast pig,
stuffed potatoes, and all of the breadsticks you could eat.  At the moment,
she was enjoying one of those alternate states of nirvana, in what had to be
Ice Cream Sundae Heaven.

 She leaned back in her seat, patting her stomach.  She was enjoying her
time in Heaven, for now.  The days were pretty good, almost so good that
she was starting to forget she was clinically dead.  Within the last week,
she
had learned how to play that "bowling" game from that Lilith being, and now
she was enjoying her time in St. Michael's Sports and Ice Cream Bar.  Of
course, this was just temporary bliss; Lina wasn't ready to reside in Heaven
just yet.

 "Boy!" she grinned, wiping the chocolate sauce from her mouth.  "I may
never be able to look at chocolate as a sinful thing ever again!"

 Her companion grinned for the moment, having not had a bite to eat
herself.  Aerith was a bit surprised that Lina ate so much, especially with
the fact that angels didn't *need* so much to survive.  In Lina's case, she
figured, eating itself was more a pastime than a satiation of hunger. 
Still,
she was surprised that Lina wasnıt the size of a moogle after her fifth
sundae.

 And Lina still had room for coffee.  "Ne, Aerith," she said, taking a sip
of java, "is it possible for me to see how Naga and Darshu are doing?"

 The angel in the pink dress nodded, motioning to a television, the only in
the bar that was on.  "I think you may want to check on something, though,"
she spoke, her faery-like smile dimming down.  "Check number three."

 Lina pressed the correct button, only to find something she didn't want to
see.  And no, it wasn't an "all Mazoku, all the time" cable channel.  What
she
saw was a brutal display, a replay of Gourry's challenge against Orochi on
the
last Ultra.  While she only saw snippets of the fight, she saw enough to be
both horrified at Gourry's loss and angered at Orochi.

 "Ooh, am I going to give Orochi what's coming to him!" Lina growled, her
left eye twitching.  "He's pushing it!  How dare he do that to Gourry!"

 Aerith tried her best to keep Lina calm.  "Well, I'm afraid Gourry did
challenge Orochi.  His consequences were a result from his own actions.
If it will make you feel better, Gourry wasn't hurt...much."

 Lina's twitching eye toned down a little to that of a seething twitch.
"I'll still get him," she vowed, "once Naga and Darshu get the rest of those
Dragon-Ball do-hickeys.²  Aerith had mentioned about how Naga and Darshu
were on their way to revive her before.

 "Speaking of which," Aerith pointed out, "change it to Channel 4."

 Lina flipped the station and found what Aerith had promised in the first
place.  She wasnıt sure exactly what she stumbled upon, seeing a gaggle of
costumed people cheering for no apparent reason, until she had seen who were
standing with the guy in the sharp suit and the really white teeth.

 "Naga?  Darshu?" Lina blinked.  "What are they doing on that?"

 Aerith had a steady smile.  "It's called a 'game show', I believe," she
informed.  "People are tested in certain contests, and they can win prizes."

 Lina's ears wiggled at the sound of "prizes".  "What kind of prizes?" she
asked in all interest.  "Like money and jewels and lots of expensive
things?"

 "I...believe so."

 "For free?"

 "For free, yes."

 Lina sighed and leaned on her palm, her other hand whirling her halo on a
finger.  "Rats," she commented.  "Now I really wish I wasn't dead."

 ******

 The game-show host grinned, not because he was cued to.  Heck, chauvenist
pigs always smiled when they had the chance to talk to a scantily-clad
woman.

 "Now, we're looking for an article of clothing with a skull on it," the
host reinformed.  "And I see you have one!  Very nice necklace!"

 Naga let loose a shrill laugh that made the microphone squeak with
feedback.  "You flatterer!" she praised rather fakely.

 "And nice costumes, too!"  the game-show host admired.  "Are you two
supposed to be an 80's rocker and that gothic villainness on Xena?"

 Darshu tapped the microphone.  "Cut to the chase!  What do we win?"

 The game-show host grinned nervously, holding up a fan of dead presidents.
"Two hundred dollars!" he proclaimed.  "Congratulations!"

 Darshu and Naga looked at the wad of paper, obviously unimpressed.  The
game-show host beamed, knowing theyıd want more than that.

 "Ooooor...you could try for bigger prizes!" he added.  "You can exchange
the money for what's behind the box or Door #2!  What will it be?"

 Darshu took Naga aside to converse.  "I donıt know what kind of barter this
is, trying to sell us a door," he mentioned dumbly.  "What do you think he's
looking to do?"

 Naga seemed a little more positive.  "Apparently something big!" she
whispered.  If he's giving away valuable prizes, and the gadget is saying
the
second Ball is here..."

 Darshu saw the light.  "It must be in the box!" he chortled.

 The game-show host grinned.  "You want what's in the box for the money?" he
asked.

 Naga let another high-pitched laugh go.  "We demand it!  Now, hurry up
before Naga the White Serpent snatches it first, little man!"

 "Very well," the toupee-wearing host agreed.  "Show them what's behind the
box!"

 ******

 Lina was getting into the telecast.  REALLY getting into it, as she was
twisting a bar towel in her hands.  "No, Naga, you dummy!" she threatened
at the TV.  "Go for what's behind the door!  Throw an Elmekia Lance at the
guy
and grab the loot!"

 Aerith simply sat back in awe.  "They...can't hear you, Lina-san," she
explained.

 No use.  Lina was shaking the TV.  "Go for the door!"

 ******

 The audienced oohed and aahed, as the box lifted up.  Darshu and Naga's
faces fell when they found the prize to be...

 "It's a breadmaker!" the too-jolly-for-TV announcer declared.  "Now you too
can make bread rolls, pizza dough, and full loaves with just flour and
water!
Its compact design makes it handy for storage, and itıs made from space-
age plastic!  Yours from Doughboy!"

 Darshu and Naga were mortified, despite the applause from the crowd.  The
host raised his eyebrows.  "I suppose, by the looks of things, you two
aren't
bread lovers.  Let's show you what you might have ended up with if you
picked
the door."

 The door pulled apart.  Naga and Darshu's jaws dropped.  Lina stared at her
TV with another stunned face, as the crowd all laughed.  The model came out,
holding a glass sphere in her hand, the five stars inside clearly visible.

 "A paperweight!" the game-show host called out.  "Practically worthless!
Aren't you two glad you went with the box?"

 Naga and Darshu both loomed over the poor man, their hands twitching.

 "Darshu, dear.  It's your turn to cast."

 "Thank you, Naga."

 ******

 Never before had Asuka been so intimidated about a fight.  Here she was, in
EVA-02, prepared for battle.  She wasn't sure exactly what bought her this
match, whether it was some twist in Jack-sama's plans or a pull of the
string by Gendo, but she was there.  The pinnacle of the federation, and
NERV was putting it on her shoulders.

 Shinji's reign as champion was something that she couldn't get over in the
past.  *She* was supposed to be the glory of the Children.  *She* was
supposed to be the best NERV had to offer in pilots.  With Shinji's win and
subsequent title defense, she grew angry at his successes.  With his
following losses, she grew angrier at his lack of commitment and courtesy.
Still, now that Shinji had left, she had no idea what to think.  Should she
hate him for leaving and becoming one of those she was supposed to fight?

 "Asuka, remember, this champion is stronger than he appears," Misato
warned from the base.  "Don't think you can just squish him like a bug with
the EVA."

 "Misato?"

 Misato could hear Asuka's conflict in her voice.  "Don't worry about a
thing," she soothed.  "We have the home-field advantage for this one.  I'd
rather not think about Tokyo-3 being used as a battlefield for
entertainment, but we were guaranteed that all damages would be taken care
of."

 Asuka quickly diverted the subject.  "No, it's about Shinji."

 "Missing him?"

 "That jerk?!  I could care less whether he was here or not!"  Asuka gripped
the controls in a softer hold when her voice sighed in frustration over the
connection.  "I just don't want to have to face him.  I don't want to be put
in that."

 Despite the quiet frontier of Tokyo-3 before her, the situation went to red
alert before Asuka could finish her thought.  "Challenger and referee
presence detected in Tokyo-3," she could hear Maya tell Misato.  "It looks
like the fight is about to start."

 Sure enough, on top of one of the few buildings left standing in Tokyo-3,
Akuma stood, the smallest Goliath against the tallest David.  His
indifference towards the world did not change with the scenery, eyeing the
giant before him warily.

 Misato nodded, squaring her stance towards the consoles around her.
"Prepare the rifle and knife, Asuka..."

][ OMEGA TITLE DEFENSE
][ EVA-02 VS. SHIN AKUMA
][ FIGHT!!

 "Wait."

 Almost every thought of battle veered towards Gendo Ikari, who had a
bird's-eye view of the entire match.  His thought patterns were long and
silent, the entire personnel waiting.

 "Asuka, forfeit the match."

 The Second Child paused, her mouth open.  "Wh...what?"

 "The title is not in the interest of NERV right now," Gendo mused.
"Forfeit the match."

 Misato turned to Gendo with a frown.  "You had us prepare for a match and
then call it off?" she questioned.  "What in blazes are you...?"

 The entire NERV staff paused under Gendoıs demand.  He merely stared into
the monitors.  "You know what I want, Katsuragi," he snarled.

 Misato caught her breath.  "You're calling Shinji out?" she gasped.

 Gendo reiterated his demands to Asuka.  "Again, forfeit the match," he
commanded.  "Your services are more important in stopping angel attacks."

 A staredown of epic proportions commenced, with Asuka finally giving in.
"Fine," she sighed.  "We forfeit the match."

 Son Goku shrugged to himself.  "Suit yourself.  Match awarded to Akuma."
He touched down next to the Shotokan warrior.  "I suppose you can get going
now."

 Akuma just grunted, his angry expression never changing.  He stepped
through a portal opened for him and vanished.

 Gendo was half-satisfied.  "I want Shinji here," he ordered out to Son
Goku.  "The two of us need this time for a talk."

 An answer came from the heavens in the form of the young Ikari.  "There is
no need," Shinji spoke out.  "I'm already here."

 The entire NERV personnel was stunned.  "He...just appeared out of
nowhere!" shouted Maya.  "There's no angel signature!"

 "There must be a reading!" Ritsuko demanded.  "He can't be an angel and
have no reading!"

 From the top of another building, Shinji appeared.  His face was neither
happy nor angry, just a placid look to himself.  "I haven't come here to
fight
you.  I've come to give a second warning."

 Gendo's eyes narrowed.  "You think you can come out and say something like
that to your fatherıs face?  Warnings are still signs of future attack."

 Shinji stood his ground, despite being still scared to death.  "I have no
father," he responded, stealing a page out of Gendo's book.  "Fights do not
have to happen between us."

 In this instant of time, everyone could feel the irony.  The first day
Shinji came to NERV, he had suffered under the glare of his father and had
been treated like he wasn't Gendo's son.  He had felt guilt well up in his
soul, until he finally snapped and gave into his father's wishes.  Just to
be
loved again.

 Now, things were different.  Shinji looked down on his father, being the
one making the demands and acting like his father never existed.  Gendo
was still a pillar of ignorance, refusing to accept the grounds.  However,
all
of the love Shinji had been looking for was gone.

 "EVA-02, encounter the angel."

 Asuka froze up in her cockpit.  "You can't be serious, sir!" she shouted.
"I can't go attacking Shinji!"

 "If you do not, Asuka, then I will send Rei to do your job.  Encounter the
angel!"

 Asuka took a long look at Shinji and his peaceful face.  There was so much
she wanted to hate about him.  She couldn't stand him from before, no matter
how he acted.  She never liked his clueless nature, and she certainly hated
him when he acted all macho and full of it.  Still, he was still her
partner,
the times they had worked together in holding back the Angels and working in
complete synchonicity still fresh in her mind.

 "Do it!"

 Asuka acted without thinking, coiling back as she sent a punch at Shinji.
She couldnıt stand looking, not wanting to see his crumpled form after she
hit him.  She did hit something, but felt resistence, her fist flat against
a familiar octagonal wall.

 "Shinji's put up an AT field!"

 "Thatıs impossible!" Misato cried out.  "There's no sign of Shinji being an
Angel!"

 Shinji looked hurt, despite the fact he wasn't physically harmed.  "Asuka,
do you really want to hurt me this badly?" he frowned.  "Why do you follow
my father's words?"

 Asuka ground her teeth.  "Just shut up, Shinji!  If I don't follow him..."

 Shinji softened again, still protected as Asuka tried prying into his AT
field.  "You can always join me, you know.  You don't need to follow what my
father says."  With his heavenly words, EVA-01 appeared standing by the
building, his body diminishing back into a ghostly apparition.

 "Complete synchronization," Ritsuko spoke quietly.  "I never figured Shinji
could have so much control of his EVA now."

 Misato turned to Ritsuko.  "But that means..."

 "Shinji and EVA-01 are the same entity now," Ritsuko mentioned in dreamlike
awe.  "He doesn't need to be in the cockpit to command the EVA, he *is* the
EVA."

 Misato's forehead wrinkled.  "And if Shinji can do it, he can offer the
same to Asuka, right?"

 "Even science can't predict if that's possible," Ritsuko stated.

 Asuka found herself in the crossroads.  One direction: follow Gendo's
instructions and attack her NERV partner.  Another direction: follow
Shinji's instructions and join him in a place she was so unaware of.

 She hung her head.  The decision had been tough to make in the timespan of
seconds.  One side shouting at her to complete her mission, the other
soothing her to join her in heaven.  She began to get angry at herself,
finally transferring that anger to...

 Shinji jolted back a little bit, as EVA-02 attacked EVA-01 by laying a
punch into the organic machine's head.  Shinji grabbed at his head,
surprised
that such a human thing as pain could be felt at this time.  Blood did not
flow, but Shinji was still surprised.

 "You...you idiot!" Asuka cried.  "You had to synch with your stupid EVA!
You had to make me make such a difficult decision like that!"

 Shinji was more shocked than anything.

 "I'm...sorry, Shinji," she finally decided.  "I can't hurt you, but I won't
go with you."

 Shinji frowned, his glare returning to where he figured his father to be.
"Is this what you want?" he asked in a rising voice.  "A war against an
opposition you do not understand?"

 Gendo adjusted his glasses with a push upwards along the bridge of his
nose.  "Angels have always been a threat to Earth," he said in his best
approximation of a hero.  "They always will be."

 The proclamation from Heaven echoed down upon all of NERV.  "I will not
make war with my friends, Ikari," he sais, giving a final cut between
himself
and Gendo.  "I will not strike the first move, but if you do, you will be
looking at a holy war larger than all of the Angel attacks...combined."

 EVA-01 faded from view, but Shinji lingered around for longer.  He didn't
want to have to do this, but it was something he felt needed to be done.  It
wasn't for righteousness; if he could, he would rather be able to pluck his
father from out of everyone like a weed or a virus and just dispose of him.

 Shinji's departure brought relief to NERV ground, but there were no cheers
or releases of tension.  Every person in NERV was shaken up, unable to feel
they could do work without questioning the authority they worked for.  Only
two did not change in opinion.

 Gendo spoke into another communnicator.  "Rei, are you there?"

 The EVA-00 pilot quietly sat in her machine, never moving an inch during
the entire standoff.  "hai," she said, emotionless.  "i'm still waiting my
orders."

 Gendo removed his glasses, rubbing at a temple.  "Return to the docking
area.  The threat has passed, but we will probably be looking for you to
fight.  Asuka looks to be...incapable of fighting Shinji."

 Rei nodded in her sea of LCL.  "i understand.  i shall lay the smack down
when we meet."

 Gendo was secretly glad he had given Rei that manual, after all.

 ******

 "WELCOME BACK TO ULTRAAAAAA!" Hiroshi rectified.  "What a development in
the Omega class, as tensions seem high between NERV and Shinji!"

 "This could lead to some interesting episodes," Daisuke noted.  "Three EVA
pilots caught in one conflict."

 "My money's on Rei," Hiroshi grinned with a blush.

 Daisuke looked sideways to Hiroshi.  "I wonder why..."

 "We're back for the extremely exciting finale to today's show!" Hiroshi
continued.  "Jack has just announced, during the break, that the Gamma title
match will officially be a 'Controversial Lumberjack Match' between Dan and
Mr. Satan!!"

 "This certainly could go either way," Daisuke mused.  "Both Dan and Mr.
Satan displayed some talent at last week's 'survival rumble', yet both have
also shown cases of being extremely clumsy or extremely lucky."

 "Well, someone's luck is bound to run out tonight, Daisuke!" Hiroshi belted
out.  "I'm still bubbling over from the announcement!  Not only will Dan and
Mr. Satan have to fight each other, but they'll have to defend themselves
from other fighters if they get thrown out of the ring!"

 Hiroshi put a hand up over his microphone and addressed Daisuke.  "Are you
SURE this has nothing to do with wood?" he whispered.

 "Of course it doesn't, Hiroshi.  That would be ridiculous."

 Hiroshi pointed ringwards and addressed his doubtful compadre.  "Then
what's that 30-foot oak doing in the middle of the ring?"

 Sure enough, the fellows from This Old Dojo one-upped themselves.  Thanks
to a bit of planting soil, a pair of pruning shears, and a giant crane, the
ring was sporting a hole cut in the canvas.  From that hole, an oak tree had
been planted.  For the sake of the viewing audience, some of the limbs had
been stripped from the tree, leaving only a few half-cut branches.  For
authenticity, the audience could even see a heart carved in the tree bark,
sporting "H. &. R.A." in the middle of it.

 Daisuke turned to his partner.  "Gee, I wonder who carved that there," he
said, voice sarcastic again.

 Hiroshi tried to look innocent.  "Hey, how was I supposed to know itıd be
used on tele..."  He paused as he turned eleven shades of pink.

 "Uh...I meant to say...gee, I don't know."

 ******

 Jack grinned.  Stunning.  A masterpiece.  A televised event that deserved
to be placed in the Louvre.  And he'd put it there, if those snobby French
guards hadn't kicked him out before for trying to saw the arms off of every
statue in the place.

 "Ladies and gentlemen!!" he declared, standing from the top of the ramp and
facing the barely-spreading oak.  "Are you ready for a little controversy?!"

 The decibel level grew loud enough to increase the calls from any angry
neighbors tenfold.

 Jack grinned as wide as a Cheshire.  He had donned his electric blue blazer
that he reserved for such occasions.  Kasumi had taken her place next to
him, wearing a snow-white nurse's uniform.  If Dr. Toufuu had been watching
the show, the poor guy would died from sheer bliss or from a massive
coronary.

 "First off," Jack declared, his grin vanishing, "I'm announcing a challenge
for a future Ultra!  I know Xelloss is around here every week, and I'm tired
of searching for this 'god head'!  If you donıt give it to me, you
trickster,
I'm going to force you to put it up in a match!"

 The crowd mumbled and whispered at each other.

 "Secondly, as you can see," he continued, "I have taken the liberty to take
the word 'Lumberjack' quite literally in this case!  Since having Dan and
Mr. Satan fight one-on-one would be duller than a rerun of 'Full House', I
thought itıd be an excellent idea to put a little style into the fight!

 "While Pinky and 'Fro Boy are fisticuffin' in the ring," he continued,
pulling at a suspender proudly, "the title will be hanging up on the
tippity-
top!  Each fighter must try his hardest to get the title down!"

 Daisuke mulled at the entire scenario from the booth.  "How are they
supposed to cut it down?" he asked rhetorically.

 "With a herring?" Hiroshi wondered.

 Ever listen to a horde of fans groaning?  Well, take the sound made by one
person groaning and amplify it a few thousand times.

 Jack continued, not being amongst that horde.  "The fighter who climbs up
the top and grabs the title will be declared the winner," he announced, "as
well as become the recipient of a metric ton of toothpicks this baby will
become after the show!  Now, let's get the fighters who will be acting as
the
gut-punching angry mob out here!  Yoo-hoo!  Sex and Violence?"

 The crew began to march ringside.  It probably wouldn't be best to call
only four people and a Pokémon a ³crew², but it serves the purpose. 
Morrigan
and Lillith strutted and frolicked down the ramp, respectively, while the
other brightly-dressed trio stopped to complain to Jack.

 "Boss!" James sobbed, chewing on a handkerchief.  "I thought you said weıd
all have to dress this way!"

 Jessie was more angry than crybaby-ish.  "You told us this was going to be
an authentic lumberjack match, and that no lumberjack would be complete
without these!" she hissed.

 "Meowth!  I'm gonna suffocate in this thing!"

 The decibel level increased as laughs replaced various boos.  Team Rocket
was scowling at Jack, all three dressed in flannel and lace.

 "Oh my," Kasumi predictably commented.

 Jack put up a hand to calm the three down.  "Look, it's just like I told
you, just like the song says!" he pointed out.  "Verse three.  'I cut down
trees, I wear high heels, suspendies, and a bra.'  Now, if you guys can't
accept that, I'm going to have to dock your pay..."

 Jessie was furious.  James was embarrassed.  Both were dressed in flannel
lumberjack shirts, rough denim, and the light touch of Victoriaıs Secret.
Both members of Team Rocket had on over their clothes exactly what Jack had
mentioned.  Meowth, not able to fill out any of the clothes backstage, had a
stocking pulled over his face.  All three spun on their high heels and
walked
to the ring.

 "Owww...!" James cried.  "These pumps are killing me!"

 ******

 Dark Schneider scanned the area after dusting his hands off.  Studio 4B (as
well as 4C, 4D, and the entire studio grounds) was lying in ruins, various
scraps of dollar bills, expensive cars, and cameramen scattered all over the
place.  Naga, on the other hand, was busy pulling herself out from behind
the soot-colored form of the game-show host, who was amazingly still
standing and who she had used as the nearest shelter.

 Darshu picked at the rubble and found it unharmed, the shining yellow
bauble with five stars centered in it.  "You know, these games get so easy
when
you learn the tricks to them," he chuckled.  He palmed the Dragon Ball in
his
hand and tossed it to Naga, who caught it with one hand.

 "Ohohohohoho!" Naga ohoho'ed, holding the back of her hand to her mouth.
"Once again, I, Naga the White Serpent, have triumphed where my enemies
could not!  Lina would be so jealous of me to find that I could garner one
of
the treasured relics in mankind!"

 The two began to walk their way out of the rubble, with Darshu following
Naga.  "Hey, *I'm* the one who cast 'Megadeath'!" he bit off.

 "And the great Naga thanks you for it!" she waved off.

 As the two marched on to their third quest, the game-show host woozily
reminded the audience to have their pets spayed and neutered before wishing
them goodbye and passing out.

 ******

 The crowd around the ring wasn't really that big for such a grand main
event.  Sex and Violence had gathered, yes, but Clan Aensland didn't seem
too
thrilled to be there.  James and Jessie were busy straightening themselves
out
and trying to pull the pantyhose off from over Meowth's head.  The Void had
made their surprise cameo for Jack after their quick lashing from Orochi,
stalking the outside of the ring like tigers. Frankly, those seven were the
only ones there.

 The Lumberjack Match was missing something, however, and it wasn't Jack,
who had retreated back to his cozy quarters (complete with a coin-powered
supermarket horse).  The blare of harsh guitars, followed by the roar of the
crowd, electrified the stage, as a blur of pink ran in.

 "Yahooie!" Dan yahooied like he'd never yahooied before, leaping into the
ring.  "I am Dan!  And I am mi...!"

 He was mighty, but the tree was mightier, for Dan had pulled the most
painful-looking crash into a tree since "George Of The Jungle".  The entire
arena winced.

 Dan rubbed his nose and looked at the tree, in a "where-the-heck-did-that-
come-from" way, while the music began for the other challenger.  It was
actually a smooth R&B funk, minus the modern rap, a kind of a funky 70ıs
mix.
Earth's Ex-Hero entered the stage area and flexed his muscles.

 "And here's our second competitor!" Hiroshi almost glowed in hyperactivity.
"Mr. Satan!"

 Mr. Satan posed for the crowd in an oh-so-Ahnold way.  He had on a white
T-shirt, the front decorated with a "Satanamania!" iron-on.  He grinned,
brought his hands up to the collar, and ripped at the shirt.

 And tried again at ripping his shirt.

 And again.

 "Come on!" Mr. Satan strained.  "Why!  Won't!  This!  Come!  Off!"  For the
next two minutes, he pulled and pulled, unable to rip his shirt in half.  He
gave up two more minutes later and simply slipped the shirt off before
heading to the ring.

 Jack grinned from his office, in mid-gallop on his two-bit toy horse.
"Gotta love those trick T-shirts with Kevlar woven into the fabric!" he
beamed.

][ GAMMA TITLE MATCH
][ DAN HIBIKI VS. MR. SATAN
][ FIGHT!!

 Once the two anti-heroes squared off in the ring, the bell sounded three
times. Dan and Mr. Satan spent a minute to stare each other down and look
for weaknesses.

 "You do realize I won't go easy on you, Dan!" Mr. Satan grinned.

 Dan made the first taunt as he usually did.  "The super-duper Dan wouldn't
have backed down from any fight!" he announced.  "I shall become Ultra's
first two-time champeen!  Oyajiiii!"

 And thus was born the crowd favorite, as the entire crowd made a
high-pitched "Oyaji!" back to him.  Dan looked around, wondering where the
echo came from.  Mr. Satan used this distraction to wind up and clock Dan
good, driving him towards the ropes.

 "A left!  And a right!" Hiroshi boomed, holding the microphone firm in his
fist.  "Mr. Satan makes the first strike!"

 "Hiroshi, the fight just started," Daisuke snorted.  "Calm down."

 Mr. Satan attempted a running punch, only for Dan to duck and let the
wrestler fling himself over the top rope.  Mr. Satan became the first to
suffer from the stipulations of the Lumberjack Match, as Yashiro wound up to
give him a strong punch to the midsection.

 "No offense, buddy," Yashiro smirked.  "I just can't pass up on a free
shot..."

 "Dan Dan Boot To The Head!"  The Pink One flew out of the ring and walloped
Yashiro on the other side of the head, before pushing Mr. Satan into the
ring.

 "Oh, Hibiki-samaaaa!"

 Dan turned, as if ready to sign an autograph.  "Yes, what is it?" he asked.
What it was was a double uppercut to the chin, courtesy of Clan Aensland.
Dan flew back into the ring and hit the canvas.

 Team Rocket just stood back and got into cheer mode, flashing pompoms.
"Go, team, go!" Jessie rooted for the spoils.  Meowth waved an "S&V" banner,
his face still smooshed by the nylons.

 "Oh, this is just great!" James told his partner, megaphone directly in her
face.  "Despite the boss's bad fashion tips, we got to beat up that Pikachu
*and* help out our team!"

 "Victory for Team Rocket!" Jessie declared.  "Nothing can stop us and our
goal!"

 Three taps on each member's shoulder stopped the cheerleading abruptly.
James dropped his megaphone, as Team Rocket was face-to-face with an angry
Ash and a stormy Misty.

 "So, you want to pick on Pikachu when he's injured, huh?" Ash grr'ed,
cracking his knuckles.

 Misty was just as peeved.  "We'll teach you how to treat Pokémon with
respect!"

 "Jessie, donıt ever say that again!" James cried, seconds before impact.
The Ultradome had a nice Team-Rocket-sized hole on the ceiling seconds
later.

 "It looks like Team Rocket's blasted off again!" Hiroshi observed.  "Dan
and Mr. Satan should have an easier time now!"

 "I think it was easier with them here," Daisuke poignantly pointed, as the
action in the ring continued.

 Dan and Mr. Satan had equally matched each other, as both had gotten their
share of hits in.  They were both draped on the ropes, ready for the next
move.  They shot towards each other like pistons.

 "SHOURYUUKEN!"

 "SATAN PUUUUNCH!"

 The sound of two coconuts hitting together sounded through the arena.
Somewhere, a parakeet was pleased with the sound.

 "And Dan and Mr. Satan have apparently...bonked heads," Daisuke reported.
"This is certainly a change of...pace."

 The Void found this to be the perfect time to strike, as Shermie and
Yashiro slipped into the ring.  The two set up Dan and Mr. Satan against the
ropes, beating the living tar out of the two.  The chorus of boos quickly
rained down, as well as a ton of empty soft-drink cups and popcorn boxes.

 And two extremely shook-up cans of 100% genuine whoop-ass.  One to
Shermie's oft-attacked-for-the-night midsection and the other to Yashiro's
jaw.  Both of the Orochi's goons were launched out of the ring and onto the
ramp, with two Shotokan masters standing in the ring.

 "ITıS KEN AND RYU!" Hiroshi boomed, practically standing on the announcer's
table.  "THE CAVALRY HAS COME TO CLEAN CLOCKS!"

 "Hiroshi, don't mix your metaphors like that."

 Hiroshi faced his partner.  "Work..."  He paused.  "Eh, you know what I'm
going to say."

 Despite the fact that they could have easily "black-disced" away, Shermie
and Yashiro ran.  Ken and Ryu followed, leaving Dan with only two left to
worry about.  And even that number continued to fall.

 Lillith simply pouted after the quick exit of the others and faced her
sibling succubus.  "Oneeeeesama, this is so boooooring!" she frowned. 
"Why'd
Jack have to have us here?  I wanna go Hardcore-Belt Hunting!  I hated how
that meanie Kasumi forced me to put up the belt at Beta!"

 Morrigan turned and ran fingers through her emerald locks.  "Fine, fine,"
she agreed.  "This fight has gotten tedious anyways.  You go have that
announcer for dinner.  I'm going to go back to the dressing room."

 Lillith grinned with a giggle and turned back to the podium, as her sister
poofled away in a flurry of bats.  "Oh, Hiiiiiro-kun!" she sang from a
distance.  "Lilly wants her Hardcore Belt back!"

 Hiroshi did a 180-degree turn from his emotional high, looking sick.
"DaisukeIjustrememberedthatIforgottoturnthemicrowaveandironand
televisionoff!" he spat off the in the period of 1.7 seconds.  He grabbed
his
belt, dropped his mike, and exited stage right, Lillith quickly in pursuit.

 Daisuke reminded himself to notify Hiroshi's kin if the situation got ugly.
Meanwhile, Dan and Mr. Satan were again trying to climb the tree.

 "What else can we throw in the mix?" Daisuke asked, voice dripping with
sarcasm.  "The kitchen...?"

 The TitanTron glowed with the familiar five second countdown.

 Daisuke cursed at himself for even thinking that phrase.  "Me and my big
mouth," Daisuke frowned.

 As Dan and Mr. Satan crawled up the tree at a snail's pace, the lights went
out at zero.  Predictably, the lights shot back on again with an explosion
and the buzz of Kid Rock music.  However, the Savior Of Ultra didn't come
out strutting; he had already slid his expensive shades into his pocket and
was charging down the ramp.

 "If anyone deserves the Gamma title," Marlo shouted upon contact with the
ropes, "it's going to be Marlo!"

 He made his way to the base of the tall oak with the crowd hissing at him.
He cocked an eyebrow and looked up at the challengers.  Climbing a tree
wasnıt his style, and thus, the Savior began constructing his own method
of ascension.

 One table.  Two tables.  By the time Marlo was even to the level of Dan and
Mr. Satan, he had made a stack of furniture that resembled the stacks
Sylvester made to get at Tweety.

 "It's about time for Marlo to lay the smack down, you jabronies!" he
pointed at the two treehuggers.  Dan and Mr. Satan were surprised, but not
as much as Marlo, when he tried to reach for their arms.

 A whip snagged the bottom coffee table and yanked the leg off.  You could
distinctly hear Marlo whimper for his mother a second before he crashed
through every wooden beam and safely on a twin mattress from FurnitureSpace.

 Marlo looked peeved, if not slightly crumpled.  "Who dares stop Marlo
from...?!"

 Looking up, he saw who dared.

 "It's Sofia and Cage!" Daisuke said in a fit of surprise.  "It looks like
the original members of Sex and Violence are dispensing a little of the
latter."

 Using furniture usually requires one's hands, which is why Marlo found
himself defenseless.  Sofia bound his hands in front of him, while Cage
began to unleash his brand of vengeance in the form of Shadow Kicks.  The
two chased Marlo out of the ring, fueled by the gigantic pop the crowd
gave them.  That left only two combatants, and both were near the top,
slugging at each other.

 "That title's mine, my friend!" Mr. Satan declared, fending off a few
acorns from Dan.  "Give up!"

 "Dan doesn't give up!" he bellowed.  "Taste Dan's mighty taunt!"

 Dan raised his arm and taunted a grand taunt, arm flexed.  It was the
recovery that fell short.  Apparently, Jack's design of this tree was
intentional, as Dan's fist found its way turned sideways and stuck straight
up a wasp's nest.

 And the wasps weren't the happy kind.

 Dan quickly fled down the tree, the nest stuck around his fist.  "Ow!
Wasps!" he cried.  "Get off!  Get off!"  He retreated to the mat and ran as
fast as he could, trying to avoid the horde of insects.

 That left only one, as Mr. Satan grabbed the title.  HIS title.

 The bell rang.  "And Mr. Satan is our champion," Daisuke announced coolly.
"In an act that can only be described as...like Dan, our new champion lucks
out and survives."

 Mr. Satan hoisted the belt high in both hands, grinning and absorbing all
the applause and cheers.  Sure, he was scared of heights, but this was the
pinnacle of his career.  Earth's Hero was back.

 The celebration was very short-lived, as Daisuke picked up commotion from
backstage.  "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems someone is heading out to the
ring," he reported.  "It seems..."

 A wild horse of a fighter came out from the gate, speeding to the ring.
His body was partly bandaged, the ponytail whipping behind him.  When he
jumped into the ring, people could see what else Ranma had brought with him.

 Daisuke's weeks of no emotion caught up with him.  "Ranmaıs...got an axe?!"
he almost wet himself saying.  "What is he thinking?!"

 "Tenshin Amaguriken!"

 Ranma's angry face said it all, as he wound up.  He struck at the tree with
quick chops, ones that blurred with his speed.  In a matter of seconds, he
had trimmed the trunk down to a sliver, letting the tree begin to creak
towards the entrance ramp.

 Mr. Satan's eyes widened, as he let loose a scream.  It was probably lost
in the throng of screams from the crowd, as the mighty oak crashed down,
the trunk slamming along the ramp.  Mr. Satan landed flat against the ramp,
his once-powerful body unable to take the impact of steel to muscle and
bone.

 "Ranma's just gone over the edge, folks," Daisuke said in a somber tone.
"I guess he couldn't stand the idea of having two weaker fighters getting
their shots."

 Ranma just didn't care anymore.  That title was supposed to be HIS, not
that sad excuse of a hero's.  He marched down the ramp, wrenched the title
from the unconscious Mr. Satan's hands, and stormed out.

 "Well, he won't get a title shot that way, will he, hmm?"

 Daisuke turned to his partner's seat.  "Wha...?"

 Xelloss grinned back at him.  "I think Jack will agree that Ranma's just
blown his shot at another title shot, right?"

 Daisuke put his questions about how Xelloss got there aside.  "I suppose
it's up to Jack," he answered.  "Either way, Mr. Satan is our new Gamma
champ."

 "Ah, yes," Xelloss smiled smugly.  "I suppose you're wondering why I'm
here?"

 "The response to Jack, right?"

 Xelloss popped an eye open and spoke to the camera.  "Then we should end
the telecast with it!" he laughed, raising a finger.  "I do have the god
head
hidden somewhere, and I'm pretty sure you know what I'll say if you ask for
where it is, Jack-kun.  As for a match, you do realize that you don't have
the power to demand that."

 "I suppose that is the power that he needs," Daisuke noted.

 "Precisely, you smart boy!" Xelloss grinned.  "I'll be a good sport,
though.
If you haven't found the god head by Ultrarage Gamma, Jack-kun, I'll give
you a shot to win it again.  Legitimately.

 "But you'll have to bear with the wait, Jack-kun!" Xelloss teased.  "Maybe
if you're nice, I'll reconsider, but until then..."

 The camera zoomed in on a fan's sign that basically summed up Xelloss in
four words: "Sore wa himitsu desu!"

 As Xelloss vanished away, Daisuke made one last announcement.  "It seems
Mr. Yotsuya has caught up with Ranma," he told the crowd.  "Let's have those
two close the show.  Good night, everybody."

 ******

 Yotsuya cleared his throat, walking rather briskly to Ranma as he stormed
out of the stage area, no longer holding the title after officials took it
away.  "Saotome, a word with you?" he asked.

 Ranma turned to face Yotsuya, looking rather ticked off.  "What do you
want?"

 "Saotome, that attack was rather violent back there," Yotsuya calmly
interviewed.  "What do you have against...?"

 "...Mr. Satan?" Ranma sneered.  "Easy.  Heıs a fake.  He didn't deserve
that title shot without a Gamma win.  I've earned my ticket to getting the
title, and I was denied.  I should have the title, since I was only knocked
out last week and Yagami's in a coma!"

 Yotsuya blinked.  "It was an 'I Quit' match.  Yagami never said..."

 Ranma seized the microphone.  "It doesn't matter!  I deserve to be the
champion here!"

 "What about your stablemates?  They certainly wouldnıt approve of your
action."

 Ranma feh'ed into the microphone.  "Team Nerima is ancient history.  I'm
through with them.  I thought it was a good idea in the first place, but
they're just getting in my way."

 The tap of heels interrupted the interview.  Both Yotsuya and Ranma looked
towards the arrival.

 Nabiki grinned, assuming a stance next to Ranma.  "Then perhaps youıre
ready to make a deal, Saotome?" she smiled.  She was all business, it
appeared, especially with the business apparel she was wearing.

 Ranma's ponytail stuck straight out.  "N...Nabiki?  What are you...?"

 "A proposition, Saotome," she smirked coyly.  "You need a manager to bring
you back to the top.  I can be that manager for you."

 Ranma shook his head.  "I can do this my..."

 "A set of industrial-strength contact lenses."

 Ranma froze, while Yotsuya switched the microphone to Nabiki.  "Pardon?"

 "You owe me, Ranma," Nabiki smiled.  "I gave you a loan for those contacts
you gave Mousse long ago, so they could win the Lambda title, as well as for
other things.  I don't think you're in a position to deny me."

 The anything-goes martial artist sighed.  "Fine.  Let's talk about this
later."

 Yotsuya looked on in bewilderment, as Nabiki grasped onto Ranma's arm.
"Over dinner.  Your treat.  I'll tell you my reasons there."

 The new team walked off, the entire Federation shaken up behind them.  In
the words of Marlo, Ultra would never...eh-eh-ever...be the same.

 ******

 "Hello?  Guys?"

 Hiroshi was cold and hungry.  He was dizzy from the blood having rushed to
his head hours ago.  He was starting to chafe where the rope had been
rubbing at.

 "This is reeeeeally funny, guys.  Now, let me down, okay?"

 Lillith had gotten what she wanted for the time being by catching up with
Hiroshi.  Now, the Hardcore Champ was hanging from the rafters, stripped
down to his boxers and tied up with some heavy-duty ropes.

 "Okay, I get the point!  Hardy har har!  Now let me down!  Please?"

 The lights shut off, the only thing left being the janitor's whistling as
he went home.

-=-

][ ULTRA EPISODE 23 RESULTS RECAP :

][ HIROSHI def. PIKACHU, still HARDCORE CHAMP at 2W/0L.
][ NABIKI TENDO def. MR. DUCK in a grudge match.
][ KUNOU and HAOHMARU def. THE VOID (SHERMIE and YASHIRO), now at 1W/0L.
][ SHIN AKUMA def. EVA-02 by forfeit, now at 3W/2L.
][ DARK SCHNEIDER and NAGA take what's behind DOOR #2 by force.
][ MR. SATAN def. DAN HIBIKI to obtain Gamma Title, now at 3W/0L (1W/0L in
   Gamma).
][ NABIKI quits as technical coordinator and becomes manager for RANMA
   SAOTOME.

][ Next Author : Kate Malloy

-=-

Author's Notes!

Well, did everyone like?  I tried my hardest to appease everyone here,
from the dramatic type to the comedic type.  I'm sure you'll get some
references and hate others, but it's what first (or second, in some cases)
came to mind.

I left the Omega League alone for one reason: I didn't feel I could
translate a wrestling match into a "global war" match.  I focussed mainly
on plot.  I gave the Void and Kunou/Haohmaru their match to break 'em out
of the 0-for-0, but I felt Kunou finally deserved better than a "jobber"
status.

The biggest pre-reading complaint I've heard is my treatment with Ranma as
a heel.  I felt it needed to be done, with his losses frustrating him to
the point of going solo.  Looking at the list of people in Gamma, only
three characters have turned from babyface to heel: Sofia and Cage, who were
used more as jobbers, and Pikachu, who never got an actual fight as a heel.
Ranma, however, was the only one I could picture as doing so.  I threw
Nabiki in, in case someone does want Ranma back as a face, but I'd like to
see Ranma's bad side show.

Thanks to the following for their proof-reading efforts:

Twoflower, for reminding me Shermie was *captured* at URB.
Rift, for helping me soften Shinji's face-off with Gendo.
Jesse Elfman, even though I never used the "Supermarket Sweep" idea.
Charles Lavergne, for coining Nabiki as "the Don King of Ultra".
Kate Malloy, for being next.

Good luck, folks.  Oyajiiiiii!!

Geoff Tebbetts
...who may be writing his last fanfic ever...