“By the Eyes of Rah! You shall not press forth!” Dr. Fate shouted at an eldritch abomination, closing the doors on an ancient evil entity, in the form of a literal Ankh as the being of another nexus was sealed off from entering this dimensional plane...
“...OW!!” Bastet yelped as she raised her head from the bar counter-top, her face slightly sticky from her leaking pitcher of sour jolly rancher and catnip margarita. “There it fucking goes again...” she mumbled as she brought her left hand back, rubbing along her left eye. “Every so often now, this thing bugs out...” she grumbled in annoyance.
Toltirr simply said nothing. After all, it wasn’t that odd to have one of the Pantheons’ deitys waking up on his bar. Why, just two seats down from her were Thor and Coyote, still snoring off a bender... and yet to realize how many rounds they bought for the bar's patrons—or at least, what the total Toltirr would claim on their bill was.
What did he care? They’d be too hung-over to remember anyway...
“Owww... OW!” Bastet continued to groan as she rubbed her eye with her left hand. “Toltirr, can you get me a damp towel? My eye hurts...” she mumbled sleepily, feeling immense pain this time.
While normally an easy source of jokes and ribbing... Toltirr paused in his snappy comebacks. The woman was genuinely looking upset. And sure, he didn’t expect any sort of divine smiting should he say anything... it was never a good idea to upset a cat—even if you were one!
“Hold on a second...” he said as he moved to the sink in the back, where he had a small island of dishpan gunk serving as the set for his own little band of castaway roaches for his own personal version of “Lost”...
It made more sense than the damned TV show ever did!!
“Hmm,” he muttered. He was certain he had a clean towel... somewhere.
Shrugging, the elder god simply grabbed a rough brown paper towel—cursing as it now showed the dispenser was empty—ran it under the dripping tap and handed it to her. “Here,” he offered.
Nodding, the Goddess, placed the towel over her eye and looked up. “Damn it, I need to make an eye appointment. This is for the prudes.”
Toltirr raised an eyebrow. He was about to ask what the hell that meant when the doors burst open.
Standing at the entrance, in full battle regalia, was the Egyptian War Goddess herself. The Lioness stood proud and tall, armed to the teeth...
...And a cold steak over her right eye, held in place by mummy bandage wraps...
“BASTET!” she shouted. “I knew I’d find you here! Is your eye hurting?”
“...Sis?” the rather groggy Egyptian Cat and Sex Goddess asked as she looked at her sister with her good eye. “...Why do you have a porter-house over your face?”
Toltirr held his tongue so he wouldn’t say, ‘No, it’s a rib-eye’. The last time he made a pun at the Lioness Goddess’ expense, it took him two days to remove that vorpal blade from his rectum.
No worse than that time he ate all that Christmas tree tinsel, but still, a noticeable annoyance...
“I KNEW IT!” Sehkmet roared in a mixture of pride and excitement... the sort Bastet and Toltirr recognized as her getting ready to go on a hunt.
“Knew what?” asked Bastet, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb her Mighty Hangover.
Sehkmet glared at her sister. “Don't you know what that pain signifies?” she demanded.
“...No more money shots with my eyes open?” asked the Sex Goddess in a disappointed tone.
Sehkmet shook her head firmly. “No... it’s what happens when you have someone knowledgeable in the old ways actually drawing on your power... when you have no fucking worshippers to renew your strength, doing nothing in your name, NOR are you even allowing it! They’re just TAKING!”
Her good eye widened in shock, Bastet gasped in horror. “Some human had the balls to roofie us and take our power for themselves while we’re unconscious!?”
Her sister opened her mouth to correct Bastet... but then promptly closed it. No sense wasting the energy when there would be a negative return. “Sure, go with that.”
Growling in anger, Bastet stood up quickly... and then immediately collapsed to the floor with a moan, holding her stomach. “They took so much, I can barely move.”
“Ye~eeaaah, you keep thinking that,” Toltirr responded. “I’m sure the three bottles of José Quervo had nothing to do with it...”
From her place on the floor, Bastet whimpered. “This... this is awful! Someone’s just using our power without permission and without worshippers... we’re going to fade away! What can we do?”
It was then that Sehkmet smiled. “I’ve been watching the Greeks for awhile, especially as I noticed them laughing over the deaths of their Roman counterparts as they spend their days cleaning off all the Roman Graffiti from Mount Olympus... apparently... they are becoming well known and in effect, worshipped again because of one thing...”
“...What one thing?” Bastet asked curiously.
It was then Sehkmet pulled out a poster of a tall, busty brunette in skimpy gold and American-flag armor with a golden lasso.
Taking hold of the picture, Bastet smiled widely and asked. “Strippers?” she was liking this idea already! Who knew her sister had it in her? Maybe it was from when they’d merged together during that lunar eclipse and—
“Super Hero!” Sehkmet firmly corrected.
“...Are you sure?” the Egyptian Cat Goddess asked her sister disbelievingly. “She looks ready to climb up on stage and start dancing with a pole to pay off her college tuition... or Pimp.”
“Yes, I am certain,” Sehkmet responded. Sure the outfit didn’t look like it would protect the Amazon from a sneeze, let alone energy beams, but still, it was something.
“So... we need skimpy catgirls?” asked Bastet hopefully.
“No, sister; we must go down and prove our existence!” the Egyptian Goddess of War proclaimed with a mighty roar.
“A~hem,” Toltirr coughed into his paw to get their attention. “Against the rules.”
Blinking her good eye in sudden realization Bastet gasped in horror before facing her sister again. “Please! Don’t say we have to organize the otaku! Anything but those creepy little bastards!” If Fred Perry hadn’t done so much for spreading the gospel of catgirls, she’d claw off his hands!
“No we don’t, sister...” Sehkmet turned to Toltirr. “And for your information, we won’t go breaking the rules! Gods and Goddesses are allowed to reveal their existence to their chosen avatar.”
“WAIT!” Toltirr shouted. “You’re not actually going to do that hokey old pledge thing, are you?”
“Well, if the Greeks can do it and drum up some business, why not us?” the Egyptian Goddess of War demanded to know.
“Well, you have this nagging weakness known as ‘Common Sense’,” the elder kitty of chaos offered to the Lioness. “Besides, you first need to find an Avatar, and from what I remembered, those types of rituals went out about... oh... I’d say around the time some idiot Europeans felt it was a good idea to nail people to large pieces of wood.”
“There are over six billions mortals on Earth now,” Sehkment stated firmly. “Some of which even have more than two brain cells to rub together. Surely one of them will be found worthy.”
“......We’re skipping the otaku, right?” asked Bastet nervously.
“Oh, that goes without saying, Sister.”
“Oh, thank us,” Bastet said in relief.
Mischievousness gleamed in Sehkmet’s good eye. “But we are heading to Japan.”
“WHAAAT!?” the younger of the two goddess sisters wailed. “But that land seems to be the BIRTHPLACE of otaku, damn their little artery-clogged hearts...”
“Closing her eyes—even the one behind the steak—Sehkmet explained, “Two reasons. First, America already has all it’s good people... and even semi-decent ones... used up already as either Super Heroes or Super Villains of one sort or another: Japan is an untapped resource in comparison. Second... I have found two very likely candidates... one a little kitty who was gunned down and her owner saw to it her brain was put in a super robot body... and the other, a young male that survived the—”
“Neko-Ken training, right?” Toltirr chimed in. At Sehkmet’s nod, the small elder deity of mischief rolled his eyes. “Oh for MY sake, I should have NEVER started that god-damned betting pool!”
And he meant pool in both the figurative literal sense as he glared over at Mymior’s Well...
...which currently had its own little island of grime and roach castaways, the understudies for his current “Lost” stars...
“Pool?” asked Bastet. “Wait a moment, wasn’t there some bet, a pool or well, and something about—”
“NEVER SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN!” Toltirr cried, somehow appearing before the Goddess, and somehow getting a grip on her tube top—without ripping it off, as it had been designed for. “IT NEVER HAPPENED!”
“...But wasn’t there a world where—”
“NEVER HAPPENED!!!” the tiny black cat growled in her face.
Bastet let out a scared little squeak. “Okay, okay... so...” she slowly turned her head towards her sister. “Who is this youth?”
Sehkmet grinned. “Why his name is—”
“RANMA SAOTOME! BECAUSE OF YOU, I’VE SEEN HELL!”
Groaning, Ranma banged his head on the desk. “Damn it, Ryoga! I’m tryin’ to study here!”
Of course, in Ranma's case, studying meant, ‘sleep-in-class-since-I-get-no-rest-at-home’.
Sadly, poor Ryoga forgot one simple fact in his desire to face his hated rival/friend...
“Delinquent!” cried the chibi-teacher. “Happö Goju-en Satsu!”
He forgot Ms. Hinako.
Watching as his depowered friend floated about, only to be pulled down to the floor by a concerned Akane, Ranma returned his head to the desk. Normally, he would complain about Akane helping Bacon Bits like that but damn it! He was tired! Pops needed to either stop snoring or start sleeping out in the Dojo. Actually, Ranma had thought about going there, but he still had nightmares about the last time he did that, which had ended up with him suffering severe injuries because Kodachi and Shampoo had tried sneaking under his covers... at the same time.
However, before Ranma could snooze off into the delightful state of slumber, the voice of the most hated Principal Kuno came over the intercom.
“Aloha keikei students and faculty!” the voice boomed, making the speakers blast static for a moment. “Da Big Kahuna be a wantin’ student Ranma Saotome to come to de office. He got the visitors of big, BIG importance! That be all!”
“A thousand yen says it is another fiancée,” came the comment from one of his classmates.
“DEAL!” cried Nabiki, appearing from behind one of the inner sliding panels for the hallway.
Akane forgot about pounding Ranma for having another fiancée—even if said fact was not confirmed—when she looked at her sister. “How the hell did you get down here? Don’t you have class!?”
“Oh, calm down, little sister,” Nabiki waved off, working on betting slips. “Can’t blame a girl for wanting to make a little money!”
Groaning, Ranma shook his head, cursed his luck and got up from his seat. “I’ll figure this out...” the pigtailed martial artist said in all seriousness as he got up from his seat. At least this would get him away from the usual craziness...
Then again, he was heading to the principal’s office...
Taking a moment to slip his pigtail under his shirt collar, the martial artist stalked off down the hall, thus missing Tatewaki Kuno coming from the other end and entering the classroom to ‘confront the foul sorcerer who would cheat on the beautiful tigress and the pigtailed girl’.
As one could guess, Miss Hinako would not be returning to child form for quite some time...
Walking down the halls of the school, the tortured Saotome youth made his way to the gymnasium—which had long been taken over by the principal and turned into a faux-Hawaiian vacation spot—and opened the door. “Yo! Principal Kuno! Ranma Saotome here, ready to kick your ass if you bring out the... shears...?”
He trailed off as he saw two women sitting in chairs opposite the principal’s desk, turned directly towards him. Chocolate people?
Shaking his head, Ranma decided it was better to open with, “Look! I don’t know WHAT the old man promised you but I ain’t going along with it!”
“So... we aren’t having a quiet dinner at the KFC All-You-Can-Eat buffet?” asked the one of the right dressed with so much gold jewelry it was bordering on being tacky.
Ranma opened his mouth to deny it... but paused. They were offering him food. “Well, maybe we can do that,” he replied.
Smiling, the woman nodded. “Fine, lots of chicken, and then we can have lots of hot, kinky sex!”
Nodding his head, Ranma mumbled, “Right, chicken and then—wait!” he lifted his head up. “What was the last part?” he asked, eyes wide.
“She said, ‘Curing your Neko-Ken’, the woman of even darker chocolate skin replied. She smiled more politely, white teeth really dazzling. “Forgive my sister... Bastet is anxious to meet someone who actually survived the Neko-Ken training...” her smile softened. “As for me, I am Sehkmet. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ranma Saotome.”
Ranma just blinked owlishly. Free chicken and his greatest fear cured? “This ain’t about my Old Man, is it?” he asked. He didn’t think it was, these women were being far too nice and polite to him for them to have been people who had run into Genma Saotome. Still, better safe than sorry...
Shaking her head, Bastet replied, “Of course not. We’ve heard much of him and had the right mind to stay the hell away from him...” she smiled sadly... this was going to hurt to admit—especially since that ass Ptah had been missing for three-thousand years—but she knew it would ease him and had to make such a sacrifice... for the greater good...
“And we’re muh... we’re already muh-muh mmaarr~rrrrr....” she took a deep breathe. “We’re already marrrrrrrrrrrieeed to someone else...” she finally got out through gritted teeth, looking like she’d bit into a lemon.
Sehkmet looked side-ways to her sister. “Smooth, Bastet. Real smooth...”
“I don’t see you helping here,” the Egyptian Sex Goddess in human form replied with a glare.
It was then Principal Kuno spoke up. “Um, please be hearin’ da Big Kahuna out. You mean you no be da new fiancées for the bad keikei?” asked the principal in shock. Oh, he had been so hoping for a fight, especially as it would have given him a chance to cut their long, smooth, non-regulation hair!
“No, we’re not...” the older of the two women stated firmly to the principal. “We work in the private sector and are seeking to give Mr. Saotome here a job opportunity, one which pays in freeing him of his fear of cats, new martial arts techniques, a solid paycheck...”
“And an occasional trip to the KFC All-You-Can-Eat Buffet!” Bastet chimed in happily.
And should he somehow become drunk via overdosing on a secret—and likely illegal—blend of eleven herbs and spices that he would forget they were married and proceed to do lustful things to them... well, so be it!
“Bastet, stop cackling like that,” he sister muttered.
“...Wuh...? OH!” the woman blushed a bit. “Um... sorry!” she then took a deep breath and smiled. “Anyway, young Saotome... how does that sound?”
While Ranma might not have been the sharpest blade on the weapon’s rack, even he knew there had to be a catch. Something always went wrong when it looked like things were going his way! Money? Martial Arts techniques? Curing his Neko-Ken? No new fiancées? KFC!? The raven-haired youth knew something horrible beyond his imagination HAD to happen to balance out all this goodness!
It suddenly dawned on the Martial Artist...
“You’re going to turn into chocolate cat-people, aren’t you?” the heir of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts asked, barely keeping himself from whimpering.
“HOW DID YOU—I mean,” Bastet raised her fist and polieltly coughed into it. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Once more, Sehkmet looked side-ways to her sister. “Smooth, Bastet. Real smooth...”
“Oh yeah, like you’ve been signing an all-star here...” Bastet muttered in annoyance. Her eyes narrowed in a glare. “Stay where you are!” she yelled out, having caught the young Saotome trying to inch over towards the door. “Even if we might become cat people, wouldn’t curing your fear negate that!?”
“So, de bad keikei have de fear of the little purring bruthas, does he?” muttered Principal Kuno, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Not in several minutes, should he accept our invitation,” Sehkmet replied firmly.
“Awww...” Principal Kuno whined. “And de local Zoo Keeper still be owing da Big Kahuna many a favor...” he snapped his finger. “Rats!”
Looking over at the principal of Furinkan High, Bastet asked, “Do you have any? Preferably ones dipped in chocolate?” she hadn’t eaten anything since she woke up—and Sehkmet, that meanie, she threw out that steak she’d been using as a cold compress!
“Anyway,” Sehkmet spoke up. “Ranma, will you at least heat us out over vast arrays of chicken and side-dishes?”
“...Can I have more chicken as my side dishes?” the pigtailws martial artist asked curiously, although he eyed them worriedly.
Nodding her head, the darker-skinned of the two women answered, “Yes, you may.”
“Hmm...”
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(Posted Mon, 27 Dec 2010 20:10)
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