[Ranma][FanFic] Girl Days, Part 16

[Rob]

Girl Days

A Ranma 1/2 fanfiction

(Disclaimer: Gerbils are not, in general, carnivores.)

Part Sixteen : Norse by Norsewest

####

The sound was like unto the wailing of a soul cast into the pits
of Hell, an agonized cry of misery and pain that caused the flesh to
crawl and the teeth to shake. Within that scream was the
concentrated agony of a lifetime's suffering compressed into a
single, ululating bawl.

"ANOTHER MONTH?!?" howled Ranma.

"Actually, I think she's taking it rather well," mused Cologne.

"ANOTHER MONTH?!?" howled Ranma.

"Well, it's not really my fault, apprentice," replied Cologne.
"I couldn't read the warning label on the soap, after all, so I
didn't know it would have a cumulative effect on the cursed form.
Most people use it to stay in the not-cursed form, you know, so it
never occurred to me that this would happen. I only know because the
salesman for the Jusenkyo Mail-Order House mentioned it in passing."

"ANOTHER MONTH?!?" howled Ranma.

"Think of it this way, all your new clothes aren't going to go to
waste."

"ANOTHER MONTH?!?" howled Ranma.

"You keep saying that. Besides, it's more like a month and a
half," the Amazon matriarch said, testily.

"Elder Cologne, why couldn't you read the warning label?" Nodoka
inquired. "That hardly seems to make sense."

"Well, you see, the label was written in Coptic."

"Why did they do something THAT stupid?" demanded Akane, who
wasn't happy with the upset that this revelation bought.

"Well, it took a little persuasion--"

"Shampoo beat it out of stupid salesman," Shampoo explained.

"Ahem. Yes, more or less. They only print the label in Coptic
for the Chinese and Japanese markets," Cologne added.

"WHY?" screamed Ranma, who was understandably upset to learn that
her last week as a girl was going to last for six weeks instead.

"Because no-one would buy the stuff if they could read the
warning label. Makes perfect sense, really, from a strictly
mercenary view."

"Excuse me. I'm going to change into my Amazon outfit, get my
bonbori and my mallet and Mom's katana and a few barbells and find
this clown and give him the freaking Kiss of Death," Ranma snarled.

"Ranma no Amazon yet," Shampoo said, uncertainly.

"Practice makes perfect," replied the redhead.

"I understand your aggravation, Ranma. I share it to some
extent. But even under Amazon law this isn't a transgression worthy
of the Kiss of Death," Cologne chided.

"Is there a Kiss of Maiming?"

"No--"

"How about a Kiss of Severe Pummeling About The Head And
Shoulders?"

"He's just a salesman, Ranma. Innocent, really. Besides,
Shampoo has already sufficiently upheld your honor during her...
interrogation."

"I got a LOTTA honor to uphold," Ranma groused.

"Ranma, be calm. If you like, you do not have to wear girl's
clothing, as this extension was unplanned... although you really
should continue with appropriate undergarments, I think," Nodoka
said.

Ranma paused. "I dunno. My Chinese stuff is OK when I'm a guy,
but it's got no style on this body. 'Sides, that'd be like giving
up. Might as well keep wearing the girl's stuff, but I'm taking a
whole month off when I get my own shape back."

"That is more than fair, daughter."

"Besides, I haven't had a chance to show Pop my new dress,
anyway. Heh."

"The blue one with the deep neckline and the slit skirt?" Akane
asked. "He'll have a heart attack if you go outside in that thing,
Ranma. It's... well, it's so..."

"Yeah, ain't it?" smirked Ranma.

Nodoka nodded. "So THAT'S why you bought that one, Ranma."

"Partly. And partly because I DO look good in it."

"Good not what Shampoo think. Dangerous what Shampoo think."

Ranma smirked. "Hey, with a figure like mine, dangerous is
good!"

"Well, we don't have to worry about your ego, anyhow..." Akane
rolled her eyes and sighed.

####

The dockworker stared at a sight that was essentially strange.
Since for once something strange was happening outside Nerima, that
meant that people were paying attention to it.

After all, one doesn't often see a custom's agent in a heated
discussion with a Viking in Tokyo harbor.

For that matter, one rarely sees a custom's agent in a heated
discussion with a Viking anywhere. It's not what you call an
everyday occurrence.

The matter under discussion was what the proper docking fees were
for a longboat. The customs official wanted Yen, and the Viking
wanted to pay in herring.

"Look you, herring is NOT legal tender in Japan!"

"Is perfectly good herring! Is big export to Kasarikustan!
Finest kind herring!"

"Maybe so, but it's not money! You pay docking fees with money!"

"Sven thought Japanese people like fish?"

"Which we buy with money!"

"Here fish already, no need money!"

"Look, it's just the way it is-- you have to pay the docking fee
with yen. I can't accept herring! It's against the rules!"

"No can take herring?"

"Exactly!"

"Oh. Ah... how about tuna? Have very good tuna..."

"I wish I was back in Nerima. THERE I could have expected
something like this," the customs official groaned.

####

Ranma was not a happy girl. Mainly because she was going to be a
girl for a while longer than she thought. At least this time she had
some idea how to handle the situation, unlike the cat's-tongue
pressure point incident or the Chiisuton incident (Herb No Baka).
She knew how to be a girl and could deal with it.

Frowning, she picked up a set of her Chinese clothes, the sort
she normally wore as a boy. Oh, sure, she could wear them now if she
chose to, but what would be the point? It would be saying that she'd
failed the training, that she couldn't really handle being a girl.
It would be, as she had said, giving up.

And she NEVER gave up. No, this was just one more in a series of
inconveniences for her. Well, it wasn't going to beat her. NOTHING
beat Ranma Saotome. Not for good, anyhow.

"Ranma?" came her mother's voice from outside her door.

"Come in, Mom." She began to fold the red shirt, sighing. Be a
while before she wore it again, after all.

Nodoka entered, with a sad expression. "I know this accident
must be very upsetting for you, dear..."

"Yeah. It is. But I can handle it. Been through worse things
before. Although... never mind..."

"What? Perhaps I can help with it. I feel somewhat responsible
for this, you know..."

"No, I can guarantee you can't help with this one," Ranma
replied, trying to repress a sudden snicker.

Nodoka raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what is that?"

"Well... I shouldn't tell you, it ain't ladylike. Or even
tomboy-like."

"Then... this I HAVE to hear."

"Well... you wanna know what I was really looking forward to when
I was a guy again?"

"Hmm... Being stronger? Wearing boxers again? Shaving your face
instead of your legs?"

"No... being able to pee standing up."

Nodoka fell flat on her face. After a second, she mumbled
something incoherent.

"Mom? What'd you say?"

Raising herself slightly, Nodoka murmured, "That seems so...
trivial."

"On the contrary, it's the height of manliness, and you always
say that that's important."

"Height of manliness?"

"Well, I don't know any girls that can do it, including me..."

Nodoka groaned while Ranma grinned.

####

"[It is this way, Sven.]"

"[No, Olaf, it's that way. We asked directions and the boy said
that way.]"

"[I know, but he also said we were in Osaka. That sign says
Tokyo. I do not think he knows directions very well.]"

"[Good point. Hey, let us ask that boy with the strange axe.]"

Ukyo Kounji was used to peculiar events in Nerima. Of course,
everyone in Nerima was used to peculiar events, but since Ukyo was
more often personally involved than most, she could usually shrug off
the sillier things.

"Good day. Is nice axe. Where Nekohanten eating place?"

Ukyo turned around, expecting from the phrasing and the Chinese
accent to see Amazons.

These were not Amazons. Amazons did not wear fur kilts, woolen
vests, and horned helmets. Amazons weren't close to seven foot tall
with long golden hair, beards, and piercing ice-blue eyes. And
Amazons didn't smell like fish.

"Um... about ten blocks that way, then left for another three...
you can't miss it."

"Thanking you. Have herring as thanking you gift."

"[You and the herring again! Forget the herring!]"

"[It's supposed to be polite to give gifts in Japan, I heard!
And it's perfectly good herring!]"

The sight of two apparent Vikings arguing in Chinese was
sufficiently distracting to Ukyo that she just stood staring as they
walked off. Then she stared at the herring that had been thrust in
her hand.

At least it was a very high quality herring.

####

Mousse was whistling happily at the news of Ranma's latest
complication. The way the near-blind martial artist figured it, the
longer Ranma was female, the likelier that Shampoo would come to her
senses and realize that he was the only one for her.

He happily scrubbed the pots and pans in the quite warm dishwater
(At the Nekohanten, hot water was a MUST for dishwashing, since wings
didn't hold a scrubbing pad very well) and as each was dried, tossed
them into his sleeves for later storage in the cabinets. Although
the Amazon Hidden Weapons Technique that he had become the Grand
Master of was meant mainly for weapons, it did have other uses.

As he heard the jingle of the front door bell, he dried his
hands, carefully put on his glasses so that he would not accidentally
take an order from a trash can or something (Not that that actually
mattered, since sometimes Tsubasa ate there and he WOULD find himself
taking orders from a trash can) and stepped out-- and froze.

"Sven? Olaf?"

"[Who else? Where's the old mummy?]" replied Sven.

"[She's out taking care of some rather, well, unusual business.
You guys want anything while you wait for her to arrive?]"

"[No, I don't think so. Unless you have some herring?]"

Olaf swatted Sven. "[ENOUGH WITH THE HERRING!!!]"

Returning to Japanese, Mousse said "Well, it's good to see you.
And the old mummy is going to find your arrival... interesting."

Olaf nodded. "As well will you. I'm afraid that Hilda has
learned you are in Japan also," in much better Japanese than his
companion.

Mousse paled. "H-Hilda?"

Sven grinned. "Hilda not get it, you want Shampoo, not her.
Hilda still want you."

Mousse groaned. Hilda. Of all the people he did NOT want to
see, Hilda was number one with a bullet. No, make that a Saturn Five
Booster. "She... she didn't come with you, did she?"

"No," Olaf said. "But I have no doubt that she's on her way.
Should be interesting, when she and Shampoo start fighting again."

"I won't let her hurt Shampoo--"

"Know that. Hilda no care, Hilda never give up. Viking woman
and Amazon woman not too different that way." Sven grinned again.

"So I know to my grief. Shampoo has... abandoned me. Cruel fate
has caused her to become tied to an outsider..."

"So I heard. Pity we can't help with that, but it's your laws,
not ours."

"Yah, is shame. Treaty not let us help you."

Mousse groaned again.

####

Perhaps the only person less pleased than Ranma about the news of
the unexpected extension in her Girl Days was Genma. He also wasn't
pleased with his neo-daughter's method of dealing with it-- which was
simply to continue.

"I INSIST that you stop wearing those ridiculous outfits NOW,
Ranma! Such behavior is unbefitting to a true martial artist! And
you look absurd!"

Ranma, who was sparring with Akane in a black leotard and cropped
red tank-top with matching legwarmers, retorted, "A lot you know
about it. I got a sense of fashion, see? And I don't look absurd,
neither!"

"At least wear a gi! Akane wears a gi, that's proper! Those
clothes are too... too..."

"Yeah, aren't they? I tell you, it's amazing how good a girl can
look with just a bit-- Defense, Akane, defense-- of effort. And
these are more comfortable than a gi anyhow."

Genma scowled. If he didn't know better, he would have thought
that Ranma was doing this just to annoy him. (Genma somehow didn't
quite understand that Ranma was somewhat short of filial piety.)
"Have you no shame? No sense of tradition?"

Ranma ducked a punch from Akane, signaled a pause, and scratched
her head in contemplation. "Hmmm... Nope. Don't think I do. Akane,
you think I got any of that stuff?"

Akane shrugged. "Well, a sense of tradition I don't know about,
but I know you have some shame. I mean, you haven't danced down the
street in a G-string and pasties yet." Akane also had somewhat less
than a great deal of respect for Genma.

Genma, being Genma, misunderstood. "You-- you HAVE such things?"

"Of course not! I'm a martial artist, not a showgirl! Panda no
baka," retorted the redhead.

"You're not DRESSED like a martial artist!"

"Well, since we started with some gymnastic practice before
sparring, it seemed like a good outfit to try. You know, if you'd
fallen into the Nyannichuan also, you'd probably like the outfit too.
I don't think a panda would look good in a leotard, though..." Akane
burst into a fit of giggles at the mental image of Genma-panda in a
black leotard and red crop-top.

"So little respect, after all I've done for you..."

"You mean done TO me."

"This is becoming preposterous! Your mother is insane! Your
mother is demented! Your mother is completely out of her mind!"

"My mother is standing behind you."

"Awk."

"Wow, Ranma... I never saw Auntie generate a battle aura before,"
Akane murmured.

"Urk."

"Genma. May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Glarg."

As Nodoka dragged Genma off by one ear, Ranma shrugged, and then
resumed sparring.

####

For reasons Ryoga Hibiki couldn't fathom, almost every recent
trip to Nerima seemed to involve females in limited states of dress.
>From Ranma's bikini to her leathers to that incident in the Furinkan
locker room (How Ukyo kept THOSE hidden behind a simple bandage, he
would never figure out-- and he was determined not to try to, since
it was bad for his blood pressure) every time he came around recently
meant someone dressed very provocatively.

A G-string and pasties would not surprise him at this point. It
would make him pass out, but it would not surprise him.

Fortunately, that was not what he saw. It almost came close,
though.

As Ryoga aimlessly (of course) turned a corner, he saw something
that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. (Actually, it
would wind up haunting a lot of people's dreams, but Ryoga, unlucky
beggar that he was, saw it first.)

It was a girl.

A girl over six feet tall with waist-long pale blonde hair in
twin braids, a body that rivaled Ranma's or Shampoo's, and wearing
only an extremely skimpy honest-to-Conan chainmail bikini, soft
leather boots, and a small horned helmet (Horned skullcap, really).
Except for this eccentric garmenture, the only other thing she bore
was a sword that was nearly as long as she was tall. She had a cute,
pretty, and slightly psychotic expression.

Ryoga immediately grabbed his nose to staunch the threatened
explosion of blood.

"I look for Mousse," the girl said in a thick Chinese accent with
an oddly Scandinavian tinge to it. "You know Mousse?"

"The dessert, the hair product, or the Amazon?" Ryoga asked
uncertainly, while holding his nose. He had his suspicions, but you
never could be too sure...

"Amazon."

"At a restaurant called the Nekohanten. I can give you
directions if you like."

"I find. Is Viking way to find on own. Thanking anyhow."

Unaware of her close encounter with areas of Japan that she would
have had no possible interest in (such as Chicago), Hilda strode off.

Ryoga thought, and then wondered if he should warn Mousse.

Yes, probably he should. As soon as he could find a telephone
booth, that is.

And since things tend to work that way, he managed to miss every
phone booth in a six mile walk as he made a bee-line (Well, a
bee-line if the bee was drunk, stoned, and on a crack high) to the
Tendo Dojo.

####

Cologne, matriarch of the Amazons, War Leader of the Jokuzetsu,
and generally an annoying old bat, was idly making her own way to the
Tendo's, with a sort of apology gift for Ranma. Her student had been
doing so well in her training, that she felt the trainee girl
deserved something special.

Stopping at the Nekohanten to pick up the gift, she froze in
amazement at the two males sitting there chatting amiably with
Mousse. It couldn't be-- not here?

"[Olaf Yellowbeard? Sven Badger-teaser? What in the deepest of
the seventeen hells of the lower abyss are YOU misbegotten worms
doing here?]"

"[I'm happy to see you too, Elder. And actually, we're here on
business for the Clans. We understand that Japan eats a lot of fish,
and there's no better fishermen than a Chinese Viking.]" Olaf wasn't
smirking, Cologne thought, but you couldn't be certain underneath
those damnable beards.

"[I'll believe that when pigs fly under their own power.]"
Cologne forbore to mention that at least one pig of her acquaintance
flew fairly often, under other people's power.

"[Believe it or not, it's quite true. Perhaps you'd be
interested in our services? It's apparent that you serve a fair
amount of fish here.]"

"[We have lots of really good herring,]" added Sven. Olaf hit
him.

"[ENOUGH WITH THE DAMNED TO HEL HERRING!]"

Cologne blinked. The boy STILL hadn't got over his herring
fixation? Vikings-- go figure.

"[Anyhow, it's a courtesy call. Oh, and Hilda is probably
following us. She knows that Shampoo is here, and that will mean--]"

"[That Mousse is here, also, and... She STILL hasn't got it into
her head that Viking and Amazon law will not permit her to marry
Mousse?]"

The more intelligent Viking shrugged. "[Actually, I think she
just wants to kidnap him, take him to a desert island, and bed him
until he wilts.]"

Mousse shuddered.

"[That's technically legal, I suppose,]" Cologne noted.

"[Don't encourage them, Elder!]" Mousse protested. "[That girl
is nuts! Not only would I never betray Shampoo like that, I could
never be interested in a girl who's that much taller than me!]"

Splash.

As the duck quacked angrily, Cologne retorted, "[Then give up on
Shampoo, boy, since EVERY girl is much taller than you.]"

####

Now, there is no doubt in the mind of this poor writer that his
readers, being the wise and perceptive lot that they are, can easily
predict that the arrival of a pack of Chinese Vikings in Nerima
(Chinese Vikings? Aren't Chinese Amazons bad enough?) of which one
is an attractive, if somewhat strange female means that the life of
one Ranma Saotome is once again going to be put into the metaphorical
blender, set on "Reduce to Component Molecules". Normally, this
would be the result of said attractive but strange female falling for
Ranma's masculine charms.

Since at the moment Ranma was severely lacking in masculine
charms, and was rather dealing with a surfeit of charms of the
feminine variety, the usual
girl-falls-for-Ranma-and-Ranma-gets-attacked-by-jealous-boyfriend
plot wasn't likely to be happening. This was in direct contradiction
to the way the universe works.

Other writers have postulated that certain things are inevitable.
The sun rises in the east, the moon causes tides, and some guy
decides that Ranma is making a play at his girl despite massive
evidence to the contrary (Such as Ranma actively running away from
said girl).

In this area, although such luminaries as Ryoga and Kuno did
shine pretty bright, there was little doubt that the all time king of
this type of behavior is Mousse. Where Kuno was merely deluded, and
Ryoga had other reasons for assaulting Ranma, Mousse was...

Forgive me...

Blind to reality.

Despite Ranma's frequent protests that he did NOT wish to marry
Shampoo, that he had no intention of ever marrying Shampoo, and the
unstated subtext that he'd probably rather be eaten alive by rabid
chinchillas than marry Shampoo, Mousse firmly believed that Ranma was
actively trying to take Shampoo away from him. When Ranma would
protest that that was not the case, Mousse would attack on the
grounds that Ranma was unfairly rejecting Shampoo. At times Mousse
would attack just because Ranma was on the same island as Shampoo.

Mousse had a rather Shampoo-centric worldview. Somehow he
managed to relate EVERYTHING to Shampoo with the possible exception
of the cheese sandwich that he kept in one sleeve.

In other words, Mousse was a pretty screwed up character. Which
meant that he fit into Nerima just dandy.

This time, it would be dandier than usual.

####

"Ryoga-kun. How nice to see you," Kasumi fluted. The Eternal
Lost Boy looked up at the eldest Tendo sister with an expression of
confusion.

"Kasumi? What are you doing in this phone booth?"

Kasumi's brow wrinkled for a moment in mild confusion. "But...
this is my kitchen, Ryoga-kun."

"It is? No wonder I couldn't find the phone..."

Smiling, Kasumi passed a cup of tea to Ryoga. "Are you here to
play with Ranma?"

"No... although come to think of it, he'll be interested in this
news also. Um... he IS a he right now, isn't he?"

Kasumi shook her head. "No, there was something wrong with the
soap. She'll be a girl for another month or so. I'm afraid she's a
bit upset about that."

Images of being a pig for a month passed through Ryoga's mind.
Shuddering, he sipped his tea.

Familiar voices approached, and Ranma and Akane entered the
kitchen. Ryoga glanced at Ranma's leotard and crop-top and shrugged.
After the Viking girl, this was nothing.

"Hey, Ryoga. Been, what, a week?"

"Oh, hello there, Ryoga-kun!"

"Ranma," Ryoga said seriously, "Have you seen a very tall girl
with blonde hair in a chainmail bikini around?"

Ranma blinked. "Ah, no. Why, did you lose one?"

"No... I saw one today. She was looking for Mousse at the
Nekohanten. I offered to give her directions, but she said no."

Ranma, having learned that casual insults did have somewhat
negative effects-- Nodoka was a good teacher-- refrained from
commenting on the girl's good sense and merely nodded.

"You're certain she wasn't looking for Ranma?" asked Akane,
suspiciously.

"No, she definitely said Mousse. I was going to call him and
tell him about it, but someone's stolen all the telephone booths."

"Stolen all the... never mind. I don't want to know." When
Ryoga said something like that, it was usually better not to inquire,
Ranma believed.

"Well, we have a phone. You can borrow it."

"Thank you, Akane." (So kind, so gentle...)

"It's out in the hall."

"I'll make that call right away!"

A moment passed.

"Why did Ryoga-kun walk into the hall closet?" mused Kasumi.

Ranma just sighed as Ryoga, ever helpful, called out "Hey, did
you know all the lights in your hallway are burned out?"

####

Hilda didn't understand these Japanese people. They kept staring
at her.

It was as if they had never seen a six foot three inch very buxom
blonde Chinese Viking in a chainmail bikini before.

Also, the streets of Nerima were like the streets of almost any
other Japanese metropolitan area-- namely, twisted, crowded, and
chaotic. City planning wasn't a major part of Japanese thought
through most of their history, and the only reason Japanese mailmen
didn't "go postal" like some did in the US was because of the
stringent gun control laws. Finding your way even with a sense of
direction could be difficult in the more twisty neighborhoods (Part
of why Ryoga could get lost within a block-- although Ryoga could do
that in an open field), and that was if you had directions.

Viking Pride demanded that she find her way on her own.

Viking Pride was going to become something that a lot of people
were going to say a great many very very bad things about.

Viking Hunger, on the other hand, told her that she should eat
something.

On that, it's time once again to digress from the story and have
a little lesson in Japanese Culture For The Totally Clueless.
Today's subject-- the Yatai.

Much is made of the famous yatai that Genma Saotome acquired from
Ukyo's father. However, it behooves us to define what a yatai IS.
So, what IS a yatai?

A yatai is sort of a Japanese Pushcart. Only more so. Handy
fold out chairs, plastic sheeting for walls, small posters, and the
like create a sort of folding restaurant. A well designed yatai,
with a good cook, is a thing of, well, not beauty-- there's never
been a beautiful yatai-- but efficiency and coziness.

Some yatai are so well operated that they get reviewed in
Japanese restaurant magazines, and when the owner decides to change
locations, he often gets a devoted crowd following him there. Where
an American pushcart is just a mobile food service thing, a yatai is
more like a mobile restaurant. A very tiny restaurant, true, but a
restaurant still.

The yatai that is so often mentioned in the chronicles as told by
the estimable Ms. Takahashi is actually somewhat limited, meant for
country roads and small towns. A city yatai is chrome and steel and
plastic and pretty darn sophisticated and isn't hauled by hand. And
it's a miracle of engineering.

Like the one that is in our story right now.

Which we're going back to.

Fred Yamada was the only purveyor of genuine American Style
hamburgers in Nerima. It's a tragic fact that most Japanese,
although very careful never to overcook other foods, tend to overcook
hamburger. By overcook, we mean to a blackish gray consistency,
where meat ceases to be tender and moves into the crisp area.
American GIs on Japanese duty refer to this as the "Crunchy Hamburger
Effect".

Fred had spent a year in America during his days in the JSDF, on
an obscure exchange program. He had come across a true American
hamburger and had fallen in love. He understood the need for fresh
onions sliced just so, and dill pickle slices, and mustard, and
cooking the patty JUST right. And he was about the only person in
Nerima who COULD.

So Fred's four stool yatai was quite popular indeed. "Fred's
Burgers" were not only the best in Nerima, by Western standards they
were the ONLY burgers in Nerima. (Other places that claimed to sell
burgers were actually selling, by Western standards, meat-based
charcoal briquettes.)

Lest anyone think otherwise, Fred was also a martial artist. Not
by choice, or even by training, but rather from Darwinian law. When
Nerima has a food fight, the food can sometimes explode. His
girlfriend, one Eiko Hasagawa, had taught him some of the basics, and
he had started to develop his own style. It was surprising how
useful a properly handled leaf of lettuce could be in self defense.
And, of course, flipping hamburgers all day had made him the only
practitioner of a spatula-based Art besides one Ukyo Kuonji-- who he
held a friendly rivalry with. (Her spatula was much bigger, but his,
although normal sized, were lead weighted, and had a two foot chain
connecting them. Yes, Spat-chuks.)

He had never trained by flipping burgers against the raging sea,
of course, but sometimes he considered it. Besides, there was decent
profit potential at the beach.

Being both a martial artist and a Neriman, he had a somewhat well
honed sense of incoming threats.

Underclad overbuilt Chinese Vikings qualified very nicely in the
threat category.

Underclad overbuilt Chinese Vikings that slapped down a thick,
large, and shiny gold coin qualified in the Friend For Life category.
Hilda had done just that.

"Smell good. Want food. This pay?"

"I'll say. For about anything. What do you want?"

"Uh... you pick?"

Fred paused. Someone THIS oddly dressed was probably... "Do
you... eat a lot?"

"Am Viking," Hilda replied, as if that explained everything.

Fred shrugged. Oddly, it did. "Sounds like you'd like a Ranma
Special, then."

"What?"

"Little redheaded girl I know. Cute as all... well, anyhow, she
can eat a lot, and it should satisfy you too. Coming up!" (When
she's not a he,) Fred added mentally. For some reason Ranma had
almost always arrived at Fred's in female form, and although Fred was
aware of the curse, he tended to think of Ranma as a she anyhow.
Especially recently with that Girl Days training thing.

Hilda wondered who this Ranma was. Then her eyes widened as Fred
began to make burgers. LARGE burgers. SIX half pound burgers with
cheese, bacon, and the works. (Except catsup. Ranma did NOT like
catsup.) Then there were the three orders of fries. Two shakes--
one chocolate, one vanilla mint. A large Coke. And the fried peach
pie.

"Is... lots of food."

"Well, that's what she orders. Hey, you from China?"

"Uh... yes?"

"Thought so. Amazon?"

"No. Viking."

"Ah. So, what brings you to Japan?"

Hilda sighed. Her eyes were suddenly filled with hearts, her
breathing became erratic, and her face took on a positive glow.
"Hilda after her angel."

"Angel?"

"Yes... beautiful boy, mighty fighter, clever thinker, great
behind. But Amazon steal him. So Hilda steal back."

Fred shrugged. Somehow he wasn't surprised. Strange girls
chasing boys were not uncommon in Nerima, and in fact seemed to be
the cause of at least half the oddness, and most of the fights.
"Wouldn't be a fellow with a pigtail?"

"No, Mousse wear hair loose."

Fred almost spilled a shake. "MOUSSE?"

"You know Hilda's angel?"

Fred tried to reconcile the half-blind, mentally unstable (in his
opinion) and Shampoo obsessed Amazon with the image that Hilda was
painting. He knew Mousse well, since from time to time the boy would
get fed up with Chinese cooking and stop by for a burger. Nice
enough guy, when he wasn't ranting about Ranma, but...

Instinct told him that Ranma would eventually wind up in a fight
concerning this. Not that instinct was strictly needed, of course--
it was a no-brainer to tell that a fight would pop up with this kind
of thing happening.

"We've met. Here you go..."

Hilda decided she liked hamburgers.

####

Mousse sneezed, and continued with his duties. Hoping against
hope that Hilda hadn't come along after all.

####

Hiroshi stared at what had to be the least probable sight since
the advent of Kenchuro Tojo previously in the month. That being
Hilda.

"Dai, I didn't actually see a very tall girl in a chainmail
bikini and a horned helmet heading towards the Tendo Dojo, did I?" he
asked, his voice quavering.

"I think you did. Of course, where else would a girl dressed
like that be heading anyway?" Daisuke noted, reasonably.

"That's true enough. You think we should follow her to see if
there's something wrong?"

"No, I think we should follow her because I want to get a closer
look at how her tush moves under that chainmail. Rowr."

"As long as we follow her. It's going to be interesting for
certain..."

####

Ingredients list in place, ladies and gentlemen. Chaos is
setting up a banquet.

With hamburgers.

####

To Be Continued...