A/N:

This is a serious crack fic, which I know makes no sense. Everyone is going to stay in character, but the situations are going to keep getting more and more ludicrous. I'm hoping it turns out as funny as it is in my head!

Thanks to Miyanoai, who beta'd. She is always there for me to troubleshoot with, and to fix my crazy mistakes. As always, thank you! Half of these things would be a jumbled mess with you!

Hopefully, everybody likes Scooby Doo!

***TellMeI'mPretty***

One:

Asami Ryuichi was the Renaissance Man of business. He dabbled in everything, succeeded in much, and had the ability to sense what the market really wanted. Capitalists were ecstatic when he propositioned business ventures. What he touched became a proverbial goldmine. He could host grand galas, make penny stocks worth thousands, and entice even the toughest negotiators to sell.

When it was announced that Yukimura Aoishi's collection of ancient Japanese idols was to be on display at the Peninsula Tokyo, the city was green with envy. Yukimura was a recluse. Once a prominent politician and successful entrepreneur, he withdrew from society after a car crash paralyzed him and killed his mistress. The collection was worth nearly a billion yen, and was Yukimura's life's work. It would only be on display for a week, but each day had a jam packed schedule. Asami would make a small fortune on the exhibition. More importantly, he could grandstand to his competitors as they salaciously licked their chops during Friday night's gala.

Kirishima Kei was up to his eyeballs in work. Yukimura was an intimate friend of Asami's, so this collection had to be watched with a scrupulous eye. The icons were only to be touched while wearing latex gloves, and by a trained staff. Professor of archeology at Keio University Wanatabe Kenshin was on hand, as was Mori Hiroshi, Yukimura's personal assistant.

"Be careful with that!" Mori cried as the workers pried open a large crate. "That is one of the original depictions of the Nue!"

Mori was a small man, shaped like a bowling ball on stilts. He shared Kirishima's eye for details, and sweated over every artifact. Literally. He would dab his greasy forehead with a soaked handkerchief as he tottered off to shout at the workers––Wanatabe's graduate students.

"And I thought I was supposed to be the obsessive one," Wanatabe chuckled lightly. He was a thin but sturdy man in his mid-sixties. For one with such a serious job, he smiled frequently.

"I suppose it's his career on the line if something happens," Kirishima smirked. When a grad student with striking blue eyes unwrapped a snarling kappa statue, the secretary nodded and check it off from the inventory. "It goes next to the painting of Amatersau."

The student nodded and set it down gently on the cushioned stand. Mori shrieked, "Be careful with that! It's Mr. Yukimura's favorite piece!"

"Excuse me, Kirishima," Wanatabe shook his head. "I need to save Takashi."

Kirishima chuckled indulgently. The archeologist stepped between Mori and his student, who was getting chastised by the sweaty assistant on the priceless nature of the kappa. Two more statues were waiting to be checked off. Asami had tight security for the exhibition. All of the guards were elites, personally selected by Suoh. The security system was state-of-the-art, best money could buy. Also, staff would be on site twenty-four-seven until Kirishima personally escorted the collection back to Yukimura.

"Kirishima, sir," Fujioka bowed low to his boss. "They have finished unloading the trucks." Only graduate students trained in the delicate nature of the icons were allowed to touch them. The guards could only watch and hope that nothing happened.

Kirishima flipped through several pages on his clipboard until he found the itinerary. "Excellent. Have the students begun to oil the statues yet?" The antiques were extraordinarily old, so they required constant upkeep to preserve them.

"Yes, sir. Dr. Wanatabe is supervising them now," Fujioka replied. "He thinks it will be another ninety minutes before they are ready to leave."

Kirishima nodded. "Perfect." Saho was making dinner, a miracle in itself, and he promised to be home on time. Not that Fujioka needed to know that.

The lights flickered before shutting off. A cold chill ran down his spin. The instincts of a man who had cheated death countless times flared to life. His clipboard clattered to the ground as he crouched down, going for his gun––which he didn't have.

A loud howl echoed in the room, and a woman screamed, "Oh my God!"

In the rafters, skeletal like a ribcage on the vaulted ceiling, a shadowy figure crouched. It jumped down, landing so hard that the statues shook. "Am I pretty?" it wailed.

People were screaming. Graduate students ran towards the exits as Kirishima and his men surged forward. It was a woman, her chest bear and a nurse's scrubs on her legs. She was astoundingly beautiful, with chocolate hair and eyes as blue as the sky. Her mouth had been sliced open. The cuts curled grotesquely up her face just below her ears. Fresh blood, black in the moonlight, dripped down her neck onto a creamy breast.

She lunged forward, grabbing a young girl by the arm. "Do you think I'm pretty?" she shouted.

The girl screamed in terror.

"Mother fucker," swore Fujioka.

"That can't be real!" another guard gasped.

Kirishima swore. He really should have had all the men carry their concealed firearms. He thought robbers might attack the exhibit, not the Kuchisake-onna. Monsters weren't real, and he would be damned if he let some prankster touch one of the priceless artifacts.

The monster threw the girl into the Amatersau display. Mori shouted and dove for the painting before it hit he floor. The display shattered, cutting the girl's body to ribbons, but at least he saved the painting. Kirishima grabbed his penknife and tried to fight through the swarming students.

The Kuchisake-onna threw her head back. "I'm not ugly!"

"Stop her!" Wanatabe's voice sounded over the din. The creature aligned glass at the unconscious girl's face, ready to give her matching scars.

One grad student––Takashi––had stayed behind. "Keiko!" he leapt forward and knocked the shard from the creature's hand. The Kuchisake-onna reeled backwards, shrieking incoherently. Takashi scooped Keiko up in his arms "I've got you, baby," he whispered. "Taki's got you."

Taking two steps back, the Kuchisake-onna ran full speed, jumping high over the couple. Her pallid fingers were outstretched, reaching for the statue of the Nue. "It's mine!" she snarled. "So pretty, like me!"

"No!" Kirishima thrust the penknife into her hand. He knew it. It wasn't the Kuchisake-onna. It was a thief, trying to distract them with a mask and subterfuge.

The thief shrieked in pain. She fell away from the stone Nue, clutching her hand. "You!" she glared at Kirishima, who towered over her.

"It's over," he reached for the naked woman to restrain her.

"Never!" she kicked her leg out, swiping Kirishima's leg out from under him. "I'll get my revenge!" she cackled, scurrying up the wall and into the rafters. "He did this to me! I'm still pretty!"

And the lights flickered back on as the Kuchisake-onna's declarations reverberated in the ballroom. However, she had disappeared.

"Oh no! This is bad! This is bad!" Mori sounded panicked. "The exhibit! The collection! Did that beast touch anything?"

The students were still pressed against the walls or in the corners, looking for safety in numbers. The guards were forming a tight ring around the artifacts, with Takashi and Keiko in the center. The girl was bleeding profusely in her boyfriend's arms.

"Keiko! Baby!" her boyfriend called to her, shaking her limp body. "Somebody call an ambulance!"

Wanatabe helped Kirishima to his feet. Both men stared at the empty ceiling. "What the fuck was that?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Kirishima answered. They had just been attacked by the Kuchisake-onna, the bleeding demon woman. He glanced at Keiko. She had already claimed one victim, and swore revenge on them. Perhaps on him. Two things were certain: she was coming back, and Asami would not believe him.

***TellMeI'mPretty***

A/N:

Hahahaha I really like Scooby Doo. So this will be short (following the thirty-minute cartoon plot points), but fun to read. It is going to have creeptastic elements, though. I mean, it is Viewfinder, and it needs just a little bit of gore.

Hopefully this comes off as plausible, if not realistic.