The residents of the Tendo compound were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the new resident, who was due to show up at any minute. They passed the time by speculating on the nature of the exchange student.
“Whaddya think this guy’ll be like?” Ranma asked of no one in particular.
“What do you mean? Are you wondering what he’ll look like?” replied a somewhat confused Akane.
“Nah… I mean, is he gonna be like Nabiki—ya know, real smart and stuff?”
“I’d assume so… I mean, they’re not going to let just anyone into the exchange program, right? So this guy’s probably smart, I guess…”
“I hope he can handle Nerima. It’s kinda overwhelmin’ if ya don’t know what ta expect.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine… if he runs into problems, we’ll help him out.”
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” proclaimed Kasumi.
The eldest Tendo sister opened the door, but she couldn’t see anyone—then she heard a high-pitched voice at her feet reciting (in a very serious tone) what was obviously a memorized greeting. “Excuse-me-is-this-the-Tendo-residence?”
Kasumi looked down to see a two-foot tall ball of ground meat with a pair of eyes and a snaggletooth looking up at her. She didn’t miss a beat, as she smiled warmly at the newcomer and began acting like the immaculate hostess she was. “Why, yes it is. Are you our exchange student?”
“That’s right! My name’s Meatwad.”
“Well, hello, Meatwad. Why don’t you come in—are these all of your things?” she asked, gesturing to the suitcase and portable stereo at her guest’s side.
“Yup. Got my suitcase with all of the essential things a modern young adult like myself requires, and my jambox for when I need to bust a move to some phat beats.”
“I see.” Kasumi picked up Meatwad’s luggage (which wasn’t very heavy at all) and led her guest into the family room. “Everyone, I’d like you all to meet our exchange student: Meatwad.”
“Hi!”
Everyone else in the room just stared with their jaws agape.
Carl was not having a good day. Sure, he thought that he’d discovered a way to keep his neighbors out of his pool with his shotgun, but unfortunately, he soon realized that he didn’t have any ammunition, having fired all of it into the air when the Giants won the Super Bowl in 1991. Sure, he could get more ammo, but that would cost money, and between food, alcohol, and payments on his plasma screen TV (and of course, his car), there just wasn’t room in his budget for non-essential items. A guy’s gotta have priorities.
Unfortunately, the freaks seemed to realize this, because neither Shake or the Fry-man seemed intimidated by the shotgun at all. The failure of his surefire (okay, bad choice of words) plan to keep the talking fast food commodities hit him rather hard. Fortunately, he seemed to be recovering well—it had only been 15 minutes, and he was already at the bargaining stage. “Look, what’ll it take to get you guys ta quite usin’ my pool? Seriously, I’ll do whatever it takes—well, anything that doesn’t involve the back door, if you know what I’m saying. That one is exit only, you hear?”
“I hear you loud and clear, Carl,” replied Frylock, who did not move to get out of the pool.
“No, for real, I want you out of my pool. The three of you—” It was then that he noticed that only two freaks were present. “Uh, not that I’m complainin’, but where’s the meatball?”
“The little irritant manipulated the system so that he would get sent on my trip to Japan.”
“Shake, are we going to have to go over this every single time it comes up?”
“Until my Japanese schoolgirl sex slave arrives? Yes. Now leave me alone and let me get back to my piña colada.”
“Shake, that’s not a piña colada, that’s straight rum.”
“That’s because it’s a virgin piña colada. But I suppose I can’t expect someone as uncultured as you to appreciate the subtleties of mixed drinks.”
“Shake, a virgin drink is one that doesn’t have any alcohol, not one that consists entirely of it!”
“Ugh, why do you have to be so picky about details?”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” interjected Carl. “What’s this about a sex slave?”
Frylock sighed. “Meatwad’s part of an exchange program, he’s going to spend a semester in Japan, and teenager by the name of Nabiki Tendo is going to be living with us during that time.”
“Teenager, huh? And, uh, how old would this teenager be?”
“Seventeen, I think.”
“Seventeen… he-hey! That means she’s legal!”
As Nabiki’s plane landed at Newark International Airport, she abruptly sneezed. Aw, crud. That can’t be good.
“What? Carl, what are you saying?” But Carl was nowhere in sight, having absconded to his room to go over his best pickup lines. “Great, just great. Now I have to keep an eye on him, too.”
“I don’t see what you’re so worried about. It isn’t as though Nabiki will betray her Master once she agrees to be my slave.”
Frylock just cocked an eyebrow at his roommate. He knew that he shouldn’t say what he was about to say, but the opening was just too good. “But what if Carl gets to her first?”
“My goodness! You’re right! I can’t let my slave fall into his hairy, overweight clutches! What time is she getting here?”
“I’d say in about an hour—two if she runs into traffic.”
“And you’re letting me waste it in this stupid pool? God, I can not believe you sometimes.” Shake jumped out of Carl’s pool and went to over to his home to finalize his plans.
“Oh yeah. I’m definitely going to hell for that. But at least I’ve got the pool to myself.”
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(Posted Wed, 15 Mar 2006 04:23)
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