My name is none of your goddamn business. This is the only appearance I am making in this sub-par fucking fanfic. And because I loathe fanboys, I am going to make this as short as possible so I can get back to important things. Right, so Ukyou has a guy in her head named Aaron. Aaron is friends with Chris, who apparently can’t write a lunch menu without me appearing in it somewhere. I find that disturbing. Anyway, Chris is a zombie or something, not like I care. Chris recruited Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, who are these chicks from China that hate the airheaded bimbo Shampoo. They helped him kill some dorky tea ceremony loser. Ukyou got in a fight with a guy wearing a kid’s mask and had to tap into her ‘evil’ energy to beat him. Then she broke his spine. Whatever. Fem-boy and the others just acted like losers. But they are, so that isn’t surprising. Look, can I go now?

C&A Productions Presents

A Work of Blatant Self-Insertion

Hybrid Theory

Chapter 10: One Step Closer

Ranma watched the rain fall outside. It was always raining at the worst times in this city. He frowned and rubbed the back of his head. The question was, did he want to get where he was going badly enough that being female wasn’t a real problem? He raised his hands, slowly balancing the factors one by one.

On the one hand, he needed to find Ukyou. She had been acting weird lately, out of control almost. Ranma needed to find out what was going on with her. On the other hand, being a girl sucked. It made him feel all mushy and weak. On the previous hand, Akane had insisted he go and find her. She apparently didn’t want to talk to Ukyou because Ukyou had called her names. Ranma had pointed out she was just being a whiny little tomboy princess with a persecution complex (he wasn’t sure what that last part meant, but it sure sounded neat) and Akane had gotten all indignant on him. Girls. They must be crazy. Which led him to the other hand again. Girls were obviously crazy, and maybe spending too much time as one would make Ranma crazy too.

“Hey, stud, you going to stand there all day staring at your hands or are you coming with me? I’m getting soaked out here.”

Ranma looked back up. Ran was standing in the rain with her hands on her hips. Her long hair was plastered to the side of her face by the downpour. She was frowning at him.

“Ah, might as well…” Ranma shrugged and stepped out. He noticed the change, but only because he was specifically looking for it.

“Geez, all you martial artist types…” Ran shook her head as she began to lead the way. “I swear you can’t even make simple decisions without spending three days aching over it. I mean, one time this guy Batsu… I told you about Batsu, right?”

“Uh…”

“Never mind. Anyway, Batsu came to school and there was this jerk there who kept tormenting this big stupid guy. I mean, he practically had ‘kick the shit out of me’ plastered on his forehead, that’s how much of a jerk this guy was.”

“Batsu?”

“No, the other guy!” Ran hit him. Ranma shouted in protest and rubbed his shoulder. “Pay attention, lummox. But yeah. This guy did everything he could to get someone to beat the shit out of him. He made fun of the guy. He beat him up. He threatened to cut his ear off with a knife. He got his girlfriend to pretend she liked him just so the big guy could get his heart broken. Finally he was about to beat the big guy’s head in with a cinderblock and only THEN did Batsu get off his duff and start dishing out the justice with his fist like wham! pow! Oh, sorry about that…”

Ranma rubbed his shoulder again. Ran had gotten a little excited in showing off Batsu’s punches and accidentally hit him again.

“Anyway, I tracked down Ukyou. She’s staying with an old friend of hers.”

“Old friend, hey?” Ranma shrugged. “I guess she has to have them.” Not that Ranma could really think of anyone he would call an old friend. Except maybe Ryouga.

“Ranma, prepare to die!”

Well, speak of the devil.

Ryouga touched down in the centre of the street. His impact created a crater nearly a meter wide in the sidewalk. Ranma landed nimbly on the other side of the street, perched easily atop a mailbox. Ryouga was holding his umbrella over his head.

“Hey, Ryouga!” Ranma waved. “Could we do this later? It’s raining and I’m a girl and we’re looking for Ukyou, so I need to not be fighting you right now, okay?”

“No!” Ryouga made to point dramatically, but this failed utterly when he refused to stretch his arm out from under his umbrella. “I want to fight you now, Ranma! And no more of this duel of honour thing! This is a deathmatch! Only one of us can walk away from this alive.”

“See, here’s another guy who has ‘please, hit me’ plastered on his face,” Ran pointed out as she crossed her arms. “Could you just get it over with, Ranma?”

“Huh? Nah.” Ranma shrugged and crossed his arms. “I’m not in the mood for killing anybody today. Maybe we can do this tomorrow? I might feel like killing you then, okay, Ryouga?”

“Don’t you mock me!” Ryouga roared. He pointed off down the street. “That parking garage over there. We do this right here, right now!”

“Uh… there is no parking garage over there,” Ran pointed out.

“What!?” Ryouga spun in place. “Dammit! I know there was a parking garage near here! I just know it!”

“The nearest garage is on Chiba street, which is five blocks over,” Ran pointed out, more laconically this time.

“NO!” Ryouga gripped his free hand into a fist. “Without an indoor arena, my dramatic redemption deathmatch can not be had!”

“Dramatic what now?” Ranma asked.

“My dramatic redemption deathmatch!” Ryouga roared back. “I need to fight you, my rival, in a match to the death. You see, I… I did something terrible to a girl yesterday and I’m feeling a little guilty about it. As in suicidally guilty. So I figure that the only way I can deal with these feelings inside is with pointless violence!”

“Oh, why didn’t you SAY so?” Ranma laughed. “Come on. Where did you say that garage was, Ran?”

“What?” Ran blinked. “He said what now? And you’re suddenly agreeing to this?”

“It’s a guy thing,” Ranma said, pulling some of the fabric that was sticking to his left breast away. Man that itched. He scratched at the itch idly while he talked. “You just wouldn’t understand how we guys feel.”

“He’s right, you know,” Ryouga said, backing Ranma up.

“Fine!” Ran threw up her hands in surrender. “Let’s go have this deathmatch thing. At least you aren’t wasting time with it.“

Ranma wasted no time actually remembering the trip to the garage. He merely faced off with Ryouga in the bottom level of the underground structure. He was male again, and he briefly wondered how that had happened but dismissed it as unimportant.

“Okay you idiots, fight each other, I guess!” Ran shouted dramatically as she chopped her hand down between them.

Ryouga needed no more prompting. He charged Ranma, and Ranma charged him back. Ranma by all rights should have won. But Ryouga was filled with rage and guilt and the sun was in Ranma’s eyes and somebody had jinxed him and besides who really cared if Ryouga beat him once and it wasn’t his fault, damn it! Stop looking at him like that!

Anyway…

Ranma flew across the garage, his body carving a line through five parked sedans. They blew up and shit. It was really cool. Like in that movie, ya know, where the guy blows up a bunch of cars and they all go spinning off in different directions in dramatic slow motion with that cool matrix time freeze effect and everything? Yeah, like that. Except cooler, and with an E. S. Posthumus soundtrack.

Ranma rose to his feet with a moan. He spat, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He stared down at his own blood and grimaced. Well, he was about to die. Ryouga was approaching and he had his belt sword out. He was dragging it along the ground and it was cutting a slit into the concrete. Ryouga’s eyes promised no mercy.

“I promise no mercy!” Ryouga explained in a tone of voice that promised no mercy. Ranma closed his eyes, expecting no promised mercy and waited for the end.

And waited.

Man, Ryouga was grunting a lot.

But, Ranma just kept waiting.

Yep, just waiting with his eyes closed for that no mercy that he was promised, or not promised, as the case may be.

Ranma decided to whistle while he waited.

What was that tune again?

“OPEN YOUR EYES, IDIOT!”

“I’m waiting to be killed, Ucchan,” Ranma explained calmly. “It’s a very zen thing.”

“But I can’t do the dramatic shot of me standing in front of you holding Ryouga’s sword in one hand while he grunts and heaves with both of his trying to dislodge me if you don’t look!”

“But I told you I’m-“

“Oh, fuck it!”

Ryouga screamed, and there was a sound of him colliding with a concrete pillar and it crumbling down on top of him and crushing his left shoulder. Ranma was very good with sounds.

“I suppose Ryouga isn’t going to kill me now…” Ranma sighed and opened his eyes. Ukyou was standing in front of him. Her back was to him and her long black trenchcoat was flapping in the wind that frequented garages that were enclosed and three stories underground. A giant black kanji for ‘evil’ was etched into her coat now, but Ranma couldn’t see it, since her coat was also black and thus it didn’t really stand out at all.

“Hi, Ucchan, what have you been up to?”

“Mastering the evil, psychotic power inside me,” Ukyou explained as she turned with a shrug. “Also playing Britney’s Dance Beat!” Ukyou began to dance in place, showing off her new moves while she smiled in a cute manner, her eyes closed. It would have been cute except for the streams of blood falling from every orifice.

“Here,” Ran said, handing Ukyou a tissue.

“Thanks!” Ukyou said enthusiastically. She began to wipe away the blood. “Anyway, I’m not really feeling like killing someone and Ryouga is slowly crawling towards me with intent to inflict bodily harm, so why don’t we go to my new place?”

“I know how you feel,” Ranma nodded. “I was all feeling like not killing someone today too. But apparently Ryouga did some terrible thing he had to die or get redemption for, so you know.” He shrugged. He was feeling much better now.

“You don’t say…” Ukyou said as she led Ran and Ranma out of the garage. Meanwhile, Ryouga crawled pitifully along the floor until he hopelessly lost track of them.

Then he was eaten by wild dogs or something.

Chris stared at the tea. It was green tea, of course – that sort of peculiar luminescent green tea that was seemingly unique to the Japanese tea ceremony. His eyes probed the emerald depths, seeking the meaning, the Truth that his – or, more accurately, Sentarou’s – training in Martial Arts Tea Ceremony told him was to be found there. The Truth that would allow him to master the secrets of the style and open the door to even greater power, which would allow him, at the very least, to TOTALLY kick Ukyou’s ass next time they ran across each other.

The problem was, he – or, once again, more accurately Sentarou – was dead. And being dead, he could not smell or taste the tea. And it was really hard to become one with the True Essence of Tea when you couldn’t smell or taste it.

Which was why he had enlisted help. Looking up, his eyes met Pink’s. He saw the tiny quiver in her face as she met his undead gaze, the unholy stare of unliving eyes which chilled the blood of all he met such that it had to be mentioned at least three times in each scene he appeared in. Pink was certainly nervous. Her eyes were trembling. Yes, definitely a quiver there… oh, that was apparently a stray eyelash, as she rubbed it away from her eyes.

Or so she would have him believe.

But no matter. “Now,” he intoned. “Drink, and tell me in excruciating detail what you experience.”

“Whatever, over,” Pink yawned. She raised the cup to her lips and sipped. Chris leaned forward. This was the time of truth. Or Truth, as the case may be.

“It tastes like tea,” Pink reported. “It’s okay. Pretty fresh green leaves, obviously, but the fertiliser used to grow this batch was obviously sub-par, and thus they weren’t getting enough potassium for the best results, over.”

“Yes,” Chris replied, “but what do you FEEL?”

Pink rolled her eyes. “I feel like I’m drinking tea. By the way, the water should be one quarter of a degree higher temperature to leech the largest possible amount of essential oils from the tea leaves. That would also help mask the flavour of belladonna a bit, over.”

Chris, who had been nodding along, blinked at the last part. “Belladonna?”

“Well, not normal belladonna. A slightly tweaked version. A single drop could kill a tiger in thirty-four seconds. Taste is similar, though, over.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “But why is it in my tea? Or, more to the point, the tea you’re drinking?”

Pink smiled, as if talking to a small child. “You had me watch you make the tea. What did you THINK I was going to…“ She paused for a moment, obviously considering the ramifications of her bad habits in this particular situation. “Oh. Shit, over.”

Then she fell over backwards and a presumably unhealthy purple foam began spewing from her mouth. Her pupils dilated, eyes circling wildly and bulging out, and her skin turned an interesting chartreuse.

“Uh, Link?” he called. “I think you should probably come take a look at this…”

“I’m doing my nails, vile undead blight upon all that is living,” came the reply. Chris frowned. He hated that nickname. “Wait a minute, over.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” he said, observing the purple foam as it ate through the floorboards. And the back of Pink’s head. Oh, that probably wasn’t good.

“What the FUCK do you want from me, you putrescent pile of backwash from a diseased Thailand hooker’s douchbag?” Chris liked that nickname even less. “Can’t I get ANY peace from you? It’s always ‘Link, Pink is killing the neighbours’, or ‘Link, my unholy need to kill made me burn his family’, or ‘Link, please like me, because you’re a good person and that makes me feel warm and fuzzy’, over! Well, I’ll tell you what,” she poked her head in the room. “I’m sick of you! AND you!” she declared, pointing at the twitching headless corpse on the floor. “I’m going to pursue my dreams! My dreams of becoming… a television repairwoman!”

Chris blinked as a song began to play in the background. It sounded like an overly cute, hyper, dare-he-use-fanboy-Japanese “genki” idol song. Except it was about a television repairwoman.

Link was posing in the doorway, careful not to touch anything with her still-drying nails. There was a toolbelt around her waist. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I am OFF, over!”

Link jumped out the window. Chris, unfortunately, was a little too nonplussed by the whole situation to remember to point out they were on the twentieth floor of the apartment building. A few moments later, he faintly heard a sound reminiscent of a bag of puppies being crushed under a bulldozer from the ground far below, and the music cut off abruptly.

“Well, this sucks,” Chris remarked, batting away one of the demonic spiders that had leaped angrily from Pink’s torso. How was he supposed to discover the True Meaning Of Tea without his henchbabes? For that matter, how was he supposed to keep any readers interested in his boring-ass self-pitying monologues if there were no cute girls around as scenery?

“Ding-dong,” went the door.

“Who could that be!?” Chris shouted, leaping to his feet and holding one finger in the air. He rushed to the door, battering away the betentacled catfish made of purple foam that attempted to rip off his head. Well, Sentarou’s head, to be accurate. Well, Sentarou’s dead head. Or did Sentarou’s death free him from the need for worldly possessions, such as his cranium, and thus it truly did belong to Chris by right?

“Ding-dong!” the door said in a more annoyed tone.

Chris opened it.

It was MOMO!

“Oooh,” went the studio audience.

No, not the Momo from Xenosaga. 3000 years hadn’t passed since the beginning of this scene, even if Chris’s belaboured dialogue and incessant need to talk to himself could easily fool you.

Nor was it Momo from Breath of Fire III and IV, inasmuch as Hybrid Theory did not take place in a world populated by enormous quantities of anthropomorphs. Though that would probably make it more popular.

“Aaaah,” nodded the studio audience.

“Hi,” explained Momo. “I’m Momo Karuizawa, from the third Rival Schools game, Project Justice, and thus recognised by maybe 1/50 of your readers. I’m a cute little girl who uses hearts as a major theme in my clothing choices, and my sport is tennis!” She waved her cute tennis racquet to illustrate. “Also, I am evil and manipulative, and delight in suckering idiots into fighting my battles for me when I’m not doing the dirty work of my dark master! I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar, despite the fact my house is a forty-minute drive from here, I have no idea who you are, and I already have sugar!” She bounced a little to illustrate.

Chris nodded sagely, and held the door open, knocking Pink’s headless and kaleidoscope-coloured body away as it attempted to force him to participate in an unspeakable act of line dancing in accordance with the wishes of its new master Nyarlothep.

“Come in, little girl,” Chris said in a deep, reverberating voice that was vaguely unwholesome. “I shall give you your sugar. And then, we shall discover the Truth of Tea.”

“Are you some kind of pervert?” she asked brightly. “Not that I’m pooh-poohing that, but I just need to know before I start working with evil people.”

“We shall see,” Chris intoned ominously as he beckoned her in. “We shall see.”

Ukyou nodded sagely as she served okonomiyaki to her two friends. Not that she really had friends anymore. Not now that she was Evil. It had been surprisingly easy to crush all her morals and ethics into a tiny ball and burn them to a crisp, metaphysically speaking. Aaron was a right bastard after all, and he kept telling people he was such an emotionless asshole so he must have had a lot of experience.

“Anyway, Akane was all indignant and wanted me to come find you and now I have and… I just have one question for you.” Ranma said around a mouthful of okonomiyaki… EVIL okonomiyaki. It was just like regular okonomiyaki, except the kanji for ‘evil’ was scrawled on it in sauce above a cute little super-deformed face of Ukyou holding up her fingers in a V-sign.

“Who the hell is that!?” Ranma shouted and pointed at Occhan.

Ukyou looked over at her old friend and occasional mentor. He was innocently cleaning the grill, just like any other chef. Except no other chef in the world had a head shaped like a giant spatula. “That’s just Occhan.”

“Oh… okay.” Ranma shrugged and went back to eating. “So, uh… how are you?”

“Evil, basically,” Ukyou nodded. “And you?”

“Not so much.” Ranma shrugged.

“How about you, Ran?”

“This is insane!” Ran screamed. She pointed at Occhan. “HER ‘OLD FRIEND’ OCCHAN HAS A FUCKING SPATULA FOR A HEAD! Where does he put his goddamn brain!?”

“Let’s find out!” Ukyou said cheerfully. She slashed out with her staff and neatly divided Occhan’s head in two.

“Wow. I never would have guessed…” Ranma murmured.

“That is fascinating,” Ran said as she snapped a picture. “I bet Fangoria will give me twenty bucks for this shot!”

“I have to agree, that is the most interesting brain storage mechanism I have ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot!” Ukyou exclaimed.

“Really?” Ran asked.

“No, not really,” Ukyou sighed. “I just said that to impress you.”

“That’s okay.” Ran patted her on the shoulder.

“Anyway, I’m glad you came, Ranma.” Ukyou leaned down on the counter. “Since I’ve turned evil, I’ve felt this inexplicable need to be more slutty.”

“Oh?” Ranma finished his okonomiyaki.

“Also, I’m a lesbian now.”

“Why?” Ran asked.

“Because lesbians are cool!” Ukyou defended herself.

“Damn straight,” Ranma agreed. “Akane’s a lesbian, and she’s kinda cool.”

“Akane isn’t a lesbian,” Ran replied. “Besides, you don’t really like Akane.”

“That doesn’t mean she isn’t cool.”

“What, that you don’t like her or that she’s not a lesbian?”

“You know, I have no idea what we’re even talking about anymore,” Ranma agreed solemnly. Everyone stared at him for a second. “What?”

“Anyway…” Ukyou said as she undid her shirt. “I was wondering if you wanted to go back and we can take a cold shower and have hot sex or something, Ranma.”

“Hmmm…” Ranma rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know… what do I get out of this?”

“And shouldn’t you be vomiting on him or something?” Ran pointed out.

“Stop evoking continuity!” Ukyou hissed. “And… uh, a triple helping of okonomiyaki… is that okay, Ranma?”

“Hey! I will not prostitute myself for mere foodstuffs!” Ranma protested. “How about you teach me all that evil kung fu self-destructive chi shit, instead?”

“Uh… sure.” Ukyou decided not to tell Ranma that he couldn’t use her ‘trick’, since she was, after all, evil.

So they went toward the back together and…

“Oh man,” Ukyou threw up her hands. “I killed him by mistake!”

Ran looked down at his body and nodded. He was dead, all right.

“I meant to ask him to take his shirt off, I don’t know what happened.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. You did it.”

“Forget this. I’m starting this whole chapter over again.” Ukyou stormed out of reality.

This is April Fool’s filler.

This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler.This is April Fool’s filler. This is April Fool’s filler.

Nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.

78 paragraphs of filler on the wall, 78 paragraphs of filler… you take one down…

If you read this far into the filler… what is wrong with you? It should be obvious there is nothing but filler in here from here on in. Bah.

Author’s Notes:

Blade: Fa.

Epsilon: Ti.

Blade: Do?

Epsilon: Re.

Blade: Ayanami?

Epsilon: That’s not a note, stupid.

Blade: Oh well. Join us next chapter, when things will get weird!

And so it came to pass that the Serpent shed his subtle guise before the King, and the King cried out and went mad. Thus, the old and terrible Dragon did wake in the King again, and thus the King took up his weapon again and went forth out of his castle with the Serpent at his side. Unseen by any eyes they travelled north, to the mountain Jusendo, where the King and his brother had been given their power before. Then they stood again in the heart of the mountain and the Serpent said: Lo, give glory to him my master, for he has filled you with his might and set you upon a throne in this place that you might do his will. And the King was glad, and gave glory unto the master of the Serpent. Most pleased was the Serpent too, his long hate nearly done at last, and thus he said now: Wait here, for now him my lord shall send to you a woman most fair to be your bride. And the King was glad, and so the Serpent did leave him there.

Thus it came that was sent unto the King a woman beautiful with fire, who had no name now but the Queen of War. And he raised thrones for his bride and he in the heart of the mountain, and then he said to her: My love, my love, what do we wait for? Him my master shall send unto us one greater than we, said the Queen of War, and he shall raise his fist that the mountains bow down to him and the new sun be born in the sky, so that him my master, Oldest One of All, Unmaker and Great Tempter, may again set foot upon the land to shake earth and heaven with his might. Then the King did take his pleasure with his Queen in the heart of the mountain, and after they had lain together he said: what shall this one greater than we be called. Lord of Waters, Ravager, Awakener, said the Queen of War, it matters not what he be called, for walk he in Dark or in Light he shall do the will of him my lord now and forever until the end of time.

Hybrid Theory Chapter 11: Waters Under Earth, By Alan Harnum

Epsilon: We’re just not trying anymore, folks.

Blade: Yeah, but so what. We’ve done everything else BUT directly plagiarise him. It’s a bold new frontier!

Epsilon: Right. Happy April 1st. Or unhappy. Or April 2nd, if you weren’t reading late at night on the 1st. Or January 4, 2065, if you haven’t been born yet. Whichever.