Slayers Blip #1
Jessica J. Lee
jei did it



The earth trembled and the seas boiled as two Dark Lords engaged in fierce combat, grappling for power and dominance, each vying for control over the other. They stood facing one another in the middle of a barren wasteland, pure and undiluted hatred humming high in the wind, power crackling through the air around them and raising the hair on the backs of their necks. Their skin tingled with otherworldly energies, blood coursing electrically through their veins, the dry ground cracking as if struck by some immeasurable pressure. Never before had the world seen such fury. Never again would it witness such rage.

Hellmaster Phibrizo sneered derisively, still wearing his unassuming human form, contempt sparking behind narrowed eyes of Tommyknocker green. "You're a fool, Gaav," he said, "a complete and utter fool. What chance do you think you could possibly have against me?"

Maryu-ou Gaav snarled, lips peeling back to bare his teeth. "You've interfered with my plans long enough, you meddlesome brat. I will slit you nose to navel and leave your entrails raw and vulnerable for the vultures to consume."

An amused smirk curved Phibrizo's lips, then parted them to allow a snicker to pass through. "You really are an imbecile. You never had a hope of defeating me in the past and you certainly don't have one now." All traces of humor vanished as if they never were, wiped clean from his expression. "Especially not over as grave an issue as this."

Gaav shook his head vehemently. "This time will be different. This time, you'll be the one to run whimpering back to the Astral Plane. Oh, but wait. You've done that before."

"Urusai!" Phibrizo snapped, his face darkening. Thunderclouds rolled with preternatural speed across the burnt red sky, casting the landscape below into shadow. If the darkness around Gaav grew thicker, more threatening, the Dragon King took no notice.
"You undersized, sniveling hell hound," Gaav continued, his voice oozing with disdain. "Using trickery and deceit to reach the goals you can't otherwise achieve." The air about him wavered, the outline of his body flickering, a translucent image of a three-headed dragon superimposed briefly over his own physical form. Thin tendrils of lightning snaked across the sky above, splitting the heavens apart and leaving behind a faint scent of scorched ozone.

Phibrizo spared a glance upward and snorted inelegantly, clearly unimpressed by Gaav's little light show. "Godzilla," he said venomously in reference to his enemy's draconic background.

The Maryu-ou arched an eyebrow in cynical surprise. "Oro? I wouldn't throw names about, you egotistic nuisance."

Now in Japanese!

"Gaav wa baka desu ne!"

"Phibrizo wa namagomi da."

"Midori no nurunuru shita mono surrikuryosei-"

"Shizuka ni shiro! Please. At least hit puberty before trying to insult me. Dwarf."

Phibrizo's face contorted with fury, his hands flexing convulsively as he dropped into curse-casting stance. The temperature dropped a good ten degrees. "Omae o korosu."

And rose again as Gaav responded in kind, wrenching sword from scabbard with a violent shing of steel drawn roughly against leather. "Not if I kill you first, you vertically-challenged freak."

"Kisama!" Phibrizo hissed, losing the last of his temper at yet another height slight. "I'll destroy you without a thought to it."

Gaav's eyes narrowed into sharp slits of pure malevolence. He brandished his weapon at his foe, trembling in barely contained battle lust. "Bring it on, spandex boy. BRING IT ON!"

"Anchovies, curse you! Anchovies!" Phibrizo howled, returning to the original topic of dispute.

"I told you before," the Maryu-ou growled, "there is no way-NO WAY-that I'm allowing the presence of small, dead fish on my pizza. Therefore pepperoni is the only logical and acceptable choice. Read-my-lips-PEP-PER-O-NI."

Phibrizo raised his arms, clawing at the sky, throwing his head back as if addressing the clouds. "Annnnchoviiiiiiies!"

"Anchovy this, you stunted little maniac." And Gaav promptly took two huge steps forward, ramming his sword in somewhere around the Hellmaster's midriff region and ripping it savagely up, across, and out with a thick spray of black blood. The ground sizzled and smoked where the dark droplets hit the thirsty soil, reacting as if to acid. His victim made a funny little gurgly noise in the back of his throat before pitching forward, face-first, into the dust.

Chortling—yes, chortling—to himself, the Maryu-ou reached for the dinky little booger-sized Japanese cell phone that lay alone in the dust, fumbling around the dozens of rainbow-colored blinking lights, multi-textured surface, and countless add-on accessories to access the dial pad. He punched the TALK button, activating a tinny recorded voice that greeted him with, "I - love - you!" It had roughly 2052-no, sorry, 2053 such recorded messages, including but not limited to the popular "Moshimoshi!" and "Telemarketers will be hunted down and shot." The thing looked more like a small spacecraft than a phone.

Speaking of spacecrafts… It was then that Wing Zero, piloted by none other than the intrepid Heero Yuy, entered the planet's atmosphere. Shooting a Look of grim displeasure that could well have melted lead through his view screen, Yuy-san jolted his tracking system back online, enabling the geographical analyzers, activating the audio and comm and bringing the real-time combat emulation modulators back to life. He pushed some buttons, pulled some levers, and otherwise headed ever closer to the site of the Dark Lords' battle, his hand (as always) never straying too far from the big, red self-destruct key. Who knew when he'd have to make a brave show of obliterating himself in order to take out his enemies, a beautiful display of honor and selflessness unspoiled by actual bloody results as the producers of Gundam Wing had taken care to dismantle Heero's self-destruction system prior to the show.

Meanwhile, the torn edges of Phibrizo's physical form had reknitted themselves enough to enable the Hellmaster to totter to his feet and lunge across at Gaav, scrabbling wildly for the cell phone, all caution and tact thrown to the winds. "Give me that!"

"Get your own freaking phone," Gaav muttered, holding the cell up out of Phibrizo's reach, still in the process of dialing. His thumb maneuvered skillfully around the decorative but pointless add-on's, displaying to one and all his prowess in the art of inter-phone warfare.

"Bakayarou! That is my freaking phone!" Phibrizo retorted. "It has my name written in katakana on the piece of masking tape stuck on the back!"

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does!"

"Does not."

"Does too! LOOK, you stupid lunk, LOOK!"

Gaav looked. "…So there is. You're such a baby. And what's wrong with your penmanship? Pah! Chicken scratch! Worm wriggles! The death throes of a centipede! Were you having a cardiac arrest while writing your name?"

"Shut up! Omae o korosu!" Phibrizo raged. He opened his mouth to continue, but stopped in mid-indignant squawk, eyes rolling slowly upward to stare at the source of the enormous shadow that had abruptly been cast over him.

Heero stared coldly back down at the Dark Lord. His mecha raised a gigantic, gundanium-bound foot. "This," Heero said, "is for stealing my catch phrase." And released the lever that allowed two tons of gundanium alloy and wrist-thick cabling to crush little Hellmaster into the ground, the sound of impact drowning out Phibrizo's last wail of fury and the delightful crunch of bones that ensued directly afterward.

Gaav's jaw dropped. Torn between the overwhelming desire to do a little victory dance celebrating his arch nemesis's untimely demise and his own innate sense of self-preservation, Gaav hesitated just a nanosecond too long before deciding to run for the hills. Wing Zero succeeded in squishing the Maryu-ou, adding a smear of flaming red hair and tan trench coat to the Phibrizo-stain already decorating the underside of Zero's foot.

"And that," Heero added, his voice as dispassionate as always, "was for insulting the spandex."

And so our young hero marched off into the sunset, stomping upon many a village and small child along the way, leaving behind him a trail of death and destruction while the writer plotted a scene in which Relena Peacecraft suffers a most terrible fate, if only because Jessica J. Lee HATES HER.