“Well, maybe I can get some money outta this junk,” murmured Ranma.
After his most recent spar with P-chan, the walking BLT, Ryoga had disappeared ... without his backpack.
That usually meant he would show up in about three days, blaming Ranma for the fact he had left his backpack behind.
But it also meant Ranma could get some payback ... namely in selling Ryoga’s stuff.
This first meant he had to figure what he could sell.
“P-chan’s clothes ... nah, last thing I need is someone dressin’ up like Pig-boy.
“What’s this?” he murmured, before reading a label on the item in question. “Rabbit’s Foot of the Negaverse: rabbit foot that gives its owner bad luck. Hmm ... I think I’ll ... give ... this to Pops.” Smirking, he placed it in his father’s backpack. “I wonder where that label came from.”
His answer was the second item in question. “Cursed Label Maker: cursed by the souls of former retail employees. Labels anything it touches.”
So, he ran it over himself a few times.
“Martial Artists.” “Afraid of commitment.” “Uneducated.” “Future lingerie model.”
“What the hell?” he muttered, before spotting a picture of Akane inside the backpack. He ran it over the picture.
“Gorilla Tomboy.”
“Oh, I’m keepin’ this,” he smiled.
So he continued going through Ryoga’s backpack, using the cursed label maker to identify what he could and could not sell. His search revealed such items as the Seal of the Cursed Shriner, a blue dress with an odd stain on it, a vault key that belonged to someone named Al Capone, five gold coins that had dinosaurs on them, plans to build a Wing Gundam Zero, a horn from a unicorn, a monkey’s paw, a uniform that looked like it was from Star Trek—Ryoga’s a Trekkie?—and a book on pig demons.
Ranma had to blink at the last one. “Must be a present for Akari.”
He reached the bottom of the backpack, and pulled out ... a severed arm attached to a long sword. Seeing the severed arm, Ranma acted as anyone would. “How the Hell did he fit all this in there?”
Looking over the last items, Ranma noticed that the arm seemed to have two stripes along it, as well as long claws. “Maybe it’s like that thing from the TV show about that weird family. Let’s see, they had that severed hand running around ... so that means this arm might be alive too. Cool!” he smiled.
The sword seemed to be a massive two-handed sword, with a very large pearl in the hilt. “Well, you might be worth something. But I gotta sell you quick, or Nabiki’ll trick you from me.”
“Foolish human, I am Sou'unga! I am the Sword of Hell!”
“O...kay,” said Ranma, used to talking swords. “And?”
“AND? Do you know what I am, foolish mortal?”
“Nah,” Ranma said sarcastically. “I know what everything is. I’m just testing ya to see if you’re a senile magic sword.”
“How dare you mock me! I have the power to raise one hundred zombies to do my bidding! Anything that I slay is brought back as undead! I can open the doors to Hell itself!”
“So then you might be worth more than a few thousand yen,” Ranma muttered, still holding the sword by its hilt.
“I shall take your body and—”
“Ah shut-up!” yelled Ranma, smacking the sword with a ki-enforced backhand.
Oddly, it shut the sword up ... for five seconds. “What manner of demon are you? Why can I not possess your body?”
Ranma just sighed. “Great, even demonic swords are callin’ me a demon now.
“Well, I doubt I can sell you, but maybe I can get some money for the rest of this stuff.”
“Mortal, I will consume your soul and strip your world of life!
“Maybe some of Akane’s meatloaf will such you up,” said Ranma, as he strapped the sword to his back. “Better hurry up before the store closes, or else Pops will try and sell what I got.”
For some reason, when Ranma had mentioned pouring the meatloaf over it, Sou'unga felt something it had never felt before ... it felt fear.
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(Posted Sun, 24 Dec 2006 10:50)
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