Sam Po considered the bosozoku. They were mostly very large, muscular men, clad in all sorts of leather and chains. Hairy almost to the last man (he was, contrandantally, completely bald). Bizarre hairstyles and extreme colorations, even by Joketsuzoku reckoning. They smelled of smoke, alcohol, and motor oil.
Obviously, these were the people contracted by the shriveled pervert! They were actually a little seedier than she'd expected from him, but she *had* seen him chug the entire cask before going off to hire them.
Flipping one of her bonbori in one hand, to demonstrate her skill and that she was worth listening to, she stepped up into talking distance.
"You is here for kidnap, yes? Shampoo have too-too good deal for make with you..."
****************************
Up in one of the top rooms of the house, Happosai was plotting madly.
....no, that's not really true. He was snoring loudly. A night spent molesting an entire convention of runway models had left him happily snoozing atop a pile of 'precious silkies', and he wasn't about to get up at a vaguely reasonable hour, nevermind before sunrise, when he could just sleep in and roll ov...er....
Souun cracked one eye, peering up at where some of the plaster on the ceiling was breaking slowly at the force of Happ- of the Master's snoring.
He'd have to see about getting that patched.
******************
In the Furinkan sewers, something was stirring. Something powerful. Something dangerous.
"Where the hell am I now?!?"
Something thoroughly lost. Grumbling to himself, Ryouga shifted his pack, and started rummaging for the halogen torch. He could feel that the walls, while slimy, were worked stone and metal, so he knew he was around civilization somewhere. Or at least, he hoped. He really didn't want to deal with all the drinking again, it had taken him months to get his hair untoinged after the first time.
"Aha!" He exclaimed, slinging his monstrous wireframe pack back into place as he leveled the flashlight.
*click*
One... two....
*click*
With the flashlight now safely off, Ryouga considered. He was a martial artist. A pretty darn good one, if he said so himself (which he did, occasionally, if there wasn't a girl around to be embarrassed in front of). However, he also turned into a pig with an appropriate application of cold water. A small pig.
A pig that one of those.... hmm.
*click*
*click*
Iguanas. Right. One of those gigantic iguanas would probably find a very tasty mouthful.
Thinking hard, in the dark, Ryouga came to a conclusion. He didn't want to be here. Oh, and this was Ranma's fault. Somehow.
He was sure of it. Ranma had purposely grown....
*click*
One, two, three... four....
*click*
Four gigantic iguanas-
Something brushed Ryouga's leg on his left.
Five gigantic iguanas. And set them here to stop him. He would have a reckoning with his foe later. For now...
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHH!!!"
Scream and run time.
********************************
Ranma, more or less oblivious (the twitching was working its way up to an itchy feeling), finished his meditation. He wasn't sure how well it had worked, but he did feel a bit better. And he felt like he had a firmer grasp on what he was doing.
Reaching back, he scratched between his shoulderblades, and let out a long yawn. With a shrug, he moved to the door and headed out of the dojo. Hopefully, Kasumi would be up by now and have drawn the furo. He'd have to see what time it was.
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(Posted Mon, 23 Oct 2006 22:01)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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