Here it is a dark tower/ Ranma parody! While I love both these series for obvious reasons I took some liberties and have to change the story around. Plus this parody goes off of the expanded Gunslinger a bit...SPOLIER... Marten and Walter both being the persona of Flagg, etc. Also this is far more of a Ranma parody then it is DT so a lot of Ranma-ness still remains (Junsenkyo type curse,etc.)
Ranma is copyrighted to Rumiko Takahashi and Dark Tower to Steven King respectively. I don't stand to make a profit on these piece of garbage
The man with the yellow bandanna fled across the desert and the martial artist followed him. The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts...well no not really, it was actually quite small. The martial artist had only spent the last ten years in this desert because the man with the yellow bandanna, for a sorcerer of infinite wisdom had a really bad sense of direction. The martial artist's instincts of battle and the hunt were great as he followed his tracks. But some would be going in the exact opposite direction he came from, some of them not even footprints but hoof prints...what vile powers of sorcery he must have! Or perhaps it was similar to the martial artist's own curse...the loss of his manhood but it gave him the ability to con out a free popkin or two with the feminine wiles the martial artist used to his advantage at some points.
"What I'd kill for Popkin...Thankee Sai O' lord or whatever deity rules this place...I'm starving!" The martial artist grudgingly exclaimed as he walked the vast unforgiving expanse of the desert. He walked slow and steady not hurrying. Slung at his waist were two waterbags crisscrossed against his muscular body. Hi shirt was red in the style of a long forgotten country, covered in sweat and grime. His black loose fitting pants were starting to get worn and torn from the blinding sandstorms. He wore an overcoat with the no-color of rain and dust and a wide-brimmed hat on the top of his jet black hair with a pigtail that went to the length of his shoulders. No weapons this one bore, unlike a man in a similar story, the techniques the Order of the Anything Goes Martial Arts that had protected his homeland were enough. Who needed a pair of revolvers when the icy cold blast of Hiru Shoten Ha would send any man spiraling in the way the girl at the window used to when they would argue.
The martial artist smiled at the memory of his lost love, uncute and as tomboyish as she was she was his...and now she was dead, gone all of them. Attempting to push the memory out of his mind he trudged on through the vast expanse. Besides what would he need weapons for? What would they be some old wild-west style revolvers made from Excalibur or something? The martial artist laughed at the thought as he trudged along. With him was a mule he bought several towns back and the thing was definitely looking like it was on its last legs.
"Guess I hafta settle down an' make camp. I've been chasing this idiot for what, ten years?
The desert was devoid of all life expect for the green skunky smelling devil grass that grew in patches every now and then. The dwellers of the desert said that spirit of "Mary Jane" or whatever that was lived inside it and the smoke would make one speak about only the most pointless (but strangely funny) topics that came to mind and would make you crave a food the ancients called "Doritos." He smirked thinking of the old ones. The world had moved on since then. He burned the grass of course, (after rolling some "cigarettes" out of them for once his tobacco ran out.) He found the remains of the man with the yellow bandanna's campfire where strange burned remains of ideographs were left. He did not know what they meant perhaps a message spelt out to him in the way of mysterious lore lost to most...or maybe it said "Eat at Nekohanten's" He didn't care he needed rest and maybe one of the "cigarettes" he recently rolled.
At last after three days he came upon a dwelling. The last dwellings he had been to were full of madmen and perverts. The martial artist preferred the company of the madmen over the perverts especially when that crazy guy in the blue gi and Hakama calling himself "Blue Thunder" or something of the like tried to grope him after he found out what happened when the martial artist was doused with cold water. He then gave him his authograph and bade him to give it to Amaterasu. The martial artist took it gravely, if he saw her he would give it up...but which was a moot point because he had burned it wishing he had burned that pervert as well in the devil grass fire. He saw a crop of badly tended corn and a surprisingly young man in a blue outfit with dark brown hair wielding a broom was tending to it. He acknowledged the martial artist and went back to his crop. The martial artist walked over to the crop, pulled down his drawstring pants a bit and let loose the liquid that was filling in his bladder.
"Life for your crop." He exclaimed smirking with an egotistical smile. The man walked over with his broom and with the blunt end quickly struck the martial artist in a vital part of his anatomy. The martial artist let out a yelp of pain after being smashed there and fell to his knees groaning in pain.
"Lifelessness for your own." The young man said. The martial artist flared up in anger about to pounce on him until he calmed himself down. The young man relaxed a bit and let out a small bow.
"I am Shinnosuke, traveler. What are you doing in these parts except leaking your lizard on other people's hard worked crops. The martial artist looked at he corn. It seemed like one of the abominations the girl at the window used to cook used to cook for him...just slightly more appetizing. The martial artist noticed the very large raven perched at the hut of his roof.
"That is Zol-chan" He said. The bird looked at the martial artist questioningly.
"Screw you and the horse you rode on in!" It exclaimed. The martial artist ignored the insult but could feel the large sweat drop pouring off his head.
"You teach him that?" The martial artist asked. Shinnosuke looked up at him with a puzzled look.
"Huh? Who? Who are you?" He said scratching his head. The martial artist reconsidered in his mind a moment. Maybe He is one of the madmen He thought to himself.
"I just came here. I am looking for a place to crash for the night." The martial artist exclaimed. Shinnosuke smiled.
"Of course you can stay. Come in we will eat. That's Zol-chan by the way." He said pointing to the gigantic bird. The martial artist sighed.
"I know."
"How do you know each other?"
"Who could miss a gigantic insulting bird." The martial artist said. Shinnosuke looked puzzled and the bird repeated its insult. The martial artist controlled his fist. He still had to learn control just like what master Happosai had taught him years ago...wait a minute. He never really did remember Happosai teaching him and Mousse anything but stealing panties even though Happosai had been training martial artists for years apparently. It no longer mattered he was the last and the world had moved on since then. Mousse was gone. The martial artist liked this young man this Shinnosuke but he seemed more forgetful and dumber that and bag of bricks, much like the sense of direction of the man with the yellow bandanna this man seemd to cursed not that the female form of the martial artist was any different. Maybe they were all freaks. Shinnosuke lead him inside the small hut and they sat facing each other.
"So why's the bird so big?" The martial artist popped the question as Shinnosuke offered him some water and began to cook some beans on the small primitive stove in his mud hut.
"My late grandfather and I had many animals that drank from the spring of life. Way beyond the mountains near a beach." Shinnosuke explained as he took the beans off the fire and put some on the martial artists plate.
"Any other animals?" The martial artist asked. Shinnosuke shrugged.
"Just a couple of lobsters but we lost them up near that beach. I doubt they will give you any trouble like biting your fingers off or something. That beach was hundreds of miles away." Shinnosuke said exchanging laughs wit the martial artist. They made small talk for a bit and Shinnosuke finally popped the question forming in his mind.
"You...you're a martial artist aren't you?" Shinnosuke asked and the martial artist showed the slightest bit of surprise in his facial expression.
"Yes."
"After the other one?" A nod came from the martial artists head. Shinnosuke stared at him deeply as if trying to look into the mind of the martial artist.
"From the looks at him he seemed like a sorcerer. Dressed in that black cassock and that funny yellow bandanna he was strange looking, spent the night here like you...I think." Shinnosuke said going through his extremely limited memory. They sat in silence for the longest time the cold desert wind whirling outside rattled the small hut to its foundations. Finally the silence was broken.
"How long since he was here?" The martial artist asked.
"Since who was here?' Shinnosuke countered scratching his head, confused. The martial artist looked more and more irritated the veins on his head about to explode.
"The man with the yellow bandanna..."
"Who?"
"You just said...never mind..." The martial artist tried to explain cutting himself off with what he knew would be useless until this dweller's memory came back. Maybe he was another one of the madmen. He finally had some of the first information of his prey in months. Not that it would help with the sorcerer's sense of direction. He was the last of the martial artists yet there would be one more legacy for him, where there had been many there was now one, the world had moved on since then and apparently so had the man with they yellow bandanna's sense of direction. But he had to endure somewhere across the desert stood his prey and beyond the desert beyond whatever came next and beyond that stood the Dojo, which he had to find, he was sworn. The martial artist fidgeted with his pigtail and asked another question.
"Do you know of a town named Nerima?" The martial artist asked describing the small desert town he was three weeks out of. Three weeks since the incident. His father had often told him that he brought trouble with him, that is whenever his father wasn't stealing food or going on and on about a martial artists duty. The world had moved on since then and so did all of his food in his childhood, right into his father's stomach. Shinnosuke nodded explaining that when he was younger a coach track ran through there and he went perhaps every several months there for some more supplies.
"Do you wish to hear what happened there?" The martial artist asked a lump forming into his throat like the endless lumps he used to have on his head after he had gotten in a fight with the girl he had first fallen in love in all those years ago. He snapped back to the present and saw Shinnosuke nod slightly. "Might as well. It's either that or clean up Zol-chan's droppings. Trust me cleaning up the shit of a gigantic bird isn't the fun it seems." Shinnosuke said chuckling. The martial artist leaned forward and began to tell his story about what happened at the township of Nerima and about the trap the man with the yellow bandanna set up for him there.
Well that's chappie #1. This one will be far shorter than the coming ones, I just had to see if I had the ability to even WRITE after so many years of absence, lol. I'll try to update bi-weekly, work and school providing. For those who are reading this thanks for your support and long days and pleasant nights to you.