Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina. And the El Pollo Diablo gag belongs to Lucasarts® and is from the much enjoyable The Curse of Monkey Island™
WARNING:Reading this fic may cause some serious brain damage to your common senses and might make you lose your sanity for trying to understand it! So just enjoy this little farce of a fanfic which is written by someone who doesn't seem to be that sane most of the time.
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Chris Oddland presents: Oddball spam fics from hell
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Spam Fic 1: The Disciple of El Pollo Diablo
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After a quite big accident involving getting struck into the path of a speeding train and then getting struck by a powerful bolt of lightning - Keitaro was never quite himself again, ever.
Especially since he had taken fancy of wearing dark clothing. Either a black leather jacket with spikes sticking out from various places and 666 sewn into the back while wearing a fitting black shirt and jeans, or a black robe with a cowl on it. There was also a rubber chicken hanging on his belt.
He was now wearing his leather jacket and strolling down the streets of Hinata in the direction of the Hinata-sou, a rubber chicken attached onto his spiked belt.
"The Apocalypse is upon us!" he yelled out in a proclaiming fashion, startling all the people around. "Beware the coming of the herald of Satan - The Great El Pollo Diablo!!"
People just ignored him as he continue to rant again and again about Armageddon in the form of a giant demonic chicken. When he realized that they were ignoring him - Keitaro became livid with unholy anger. He produced a small piece of chalk from his pocket and drew a shabby-looking pentagram on the concrete ground and placed several small candles around it.
He then sat down in a kneeling position, closed his eyes and began to chant in a guttural language spoken a long time ago by witches and warlocks who embraced the teachings of evil.
Keitaro's eyes began to glow green with energy as he opened his eyes as he spoke out the last words of the ritual. His features seeming now more alien than human. In that short moment Keitaro's face resembled more the face of an ecstatic demon from hell than that of man.
And in an instant they were there. Appearing out of a sinister black portal creating a rift through time and space itself. They were small. They had beaks. They were covered in feathers.
They were chickens - hundreds of them.
The only thing about these chickens that made them different from other poultry was the demonic presence and aura surrounding them. And that their blood-red glowing eyes were filled with inhuman cruelty and intelligence as they began their infernal clucking.
At first the people just laughed…. But seconds later the laughter was replaced with screams of pain, fear and inhuman terror as the chickens attacked.
Many ended up pecked into bloody pulps of gore by the razor-sharp beaks of the many demon chickens from hell who clucked in demonic joy as they swarmed against the mortals who had offended the great prophet who had summoned them from the very gates of hell themselves.
The moment their work was done here they returned from whence they came from. One by one they entered the sinister portal that closed when the last of their kind stepped through it.
Keitaro raised himself and walked in the direction of what his intuition told him was one of the fabled portals to Hell itself. And this gate to hell was named: The Hinata-sou!
He tittered evilly as he walked by the many dead corpses, ignoring them as if they were but air to him.
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"Do you think it was right of you to hit Keitaro again?" Kitsune asked Motoko and Naru with an amused smile. "He was just cleaning the hot springs as usual, and you just waltzed out there wearing only your towels."
"He had it coming," Naru grumbled irritatedly as she lowered herself deeper into the warm water of the large hot spring.
"You know how perverse he is, Kitsune" Motoko interjected.
All three of them were currently enjoying themselves in the hot springs of the Hinata-sou, totally unaware of the coming catastrophe.
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The Hinata tea shop:
"Master!" Keitaro exclaimed as knelt before his aunt in a bowing a grovelling motion. "You have appeared before your humble thrall in the form of my most wicked relative - My aunt Haruka!"
"Huh?" Haruka Urashima looked at him quizzically while resisting the urge to hit him. She hit him anyway…..
SLAP
"Thank you! My master!" Keitaro looked at her with a worshipping look while his left cheek had the imprint of Haruka's open hand. "I am but a humble worm compared to thy glory and power. Tell me: what is thy bidding, O Prince of Darkness and Lord of Hell?"
Haruka's eyes twitched slightly. "For starters you can go and patch up the dormitory….. again."
"As you wish, Oh Grand Majesty of Evil!" Keitaro exulted in glee and ran out from the tea shop with an aura of sinister eagerness upon him.
"What the BLEEP is wrong with him?" Haruka muttered in an irritated way.
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Keitaro immediately began to work on the damaged parts of the building, makeshiftingly patching up holes with the skills of a rank amateur trying to make barbecue for summer with napalm as a fuel source and plutonium as coal.
Several sharp-looking nails were protruding out of the planks he nailed to the holes intentionally by this deluded satanic carpenter, giving the impression that this inn was in fact inhabited by homicidal maniacs from a slasher flick on steroids.
He was also, by the way, chanting in an alien tongue. The mantra-like dirge of damnation echoed around the area, making plants whither and door sellers, who never seemed to take no for an answer, combust spontaneously.
Keitaro whistled (or tried to, I think) as he admired his work; then he put his tools back in his demonic toolbox of doom™.
Well, dear readers, the Hinata-sou had seen better days, even when it still had some holes around it. Let's just say that decorating the top floor walls of the building with barbed wire, as well as painting 666s with a glowing green, blood-like ichor on all the outward walls, and mounting spiked bars in front of all the doors and windows, and screwing tight spikes on the outer parts of the roof, isn't something an architect with normal taste would do unless he/she took something he/she shouldn't have taken in the first place.
And also worthy of noting: a sinister black and grey rain cloud appeared slowly over the dorm's premises.
So the neighbours began to figure that something really wrong was happening here.
Maybe it was because someone was playing the crescendo like version of Duel of the Fates by John Williams in the background, without anyone knowing where the sound was actually coming from.
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Mitsune "Kitsune" Konno yawned as she woke up from her catnap.
Naru had gone out to buy a new notebook for her and Keitaro's upcoming Toudai test and Motoko was out with her fangirls somewhere. She simply, having nothing in particular to do, took a small nap, after having finished dozing in the hot springs.
As she walked into the kitchen and over to the fridge to fix herself something sharp, unaware of that two spectacled brown eyes were gazing at her from the shadows.
The brain which was connected to said eyes, formed a large Las Vegas-style psychedelic neon sign saying: Easy human sacrifice victim with a arrow pointed directly over Kitsune who was singing a drinking song as she bustled up a killer cocktail deluxe.
Grabbing a rolling pin, the unholy fiend sneaked up on the unsuspecting alcohol consumer. And might a mighty bestial swing which only a man driven to the uttermost madness could manage - he simply missed.
Mitsune heard the swishing sound over her head and turned around swiftly.
But by that time her assailant had hidden the rolling pin behind his back.
"Huh?" was all she uttered.
Swiftly he grabbed a big watermelon which so conveniently lay there and smacked her right in the face with it.
A few minutes later a huffing Keitaro gazed down at the unconscious Ms. Konno; a watermelon imbedded neatly on to her head, with watermelon parts, juice and seed trickling over her clothes.
"Huzzah!" Keitaro exclaimed suddenly, invigorated by his success.
He knew that to curry favour with the denizens of the dark underworld of hell he had to sacrifice a woman of remarkable beauty and grace. He just hoped they wouldn't be displeased that said sacrifice tended to prefer strong drink and blackmailing for dough.
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By some stroke of fate Naru Narusegawa and Motoko Aoyama arrived back to the Hinata-sou at the same time. Both of them had been preoccupied by something. Motoko by her fanhorde. Naru by the fact that she was up to some bowling, even though her usual gear was left in her room.
As they entered through the main entrance of the inn and into the living room - they beheld something quite bizarre.
Everything was almost completely dark hadn't it been for that the room was filled with lit red candles which gave a weak glowing light; and a skeleton named Betty with a melting candle on her forehead.
What really made their hair rise and send shivers through their bodies was the blasphemous ceremony taking place before them (which also almost made their hearts jump up their throats).
The small table in the living room had been converted into a tiny makeshift altar with a spread-eagled tied Kitsune in a black bikini tied on top of it. And over her stood Keitaro in his dark priest robes, his hands held high over his head. And in his hands he held the ceremonial sacrificial implement of his "choice". So basically a manically smiling Keitaro was whacking Kitsune over and over again in the head with a rubber chicken.
"OW!"
WHACK!
"OW!"
WHACK! WHACK!
"OWWWW!"
WHACKITY-WHACK!
"OUCH!"
As he saw them from the gloomy glows of the candles, his rubber chicken fell from his hands; he ran over to them and fell on his knees in front of them, grovelling and bowing in ecstatic glee.
"……….. ?" Was all the two said.
"O mighty dukes of hell, please take this humble sacrifice which I offer thee."
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The continuation of this spam fic chapter has abruptly been halted due to the unstable nature of the fic writer and his macabre sense of humour……..
Chris Oddland is seen struggling wildly in background in a straitjacket, hauled away by those nice men in white…….
^_^
Hehe! Wasn't that anti-climatic?
The next spamfic will be titled Battlefield: Molmol, where the fic writer in an absurd self insertion two shot declares war on Kaolla Su and her people, because she likes turtles (as meals), and assembles a miscreant army that the world has never seen before……