Disclaimer: I do not own green eggs and ham. I do not own them, 'Sam I am.' I do not own a public bath. I do not own Ranma ½. And I don't own Oh! My Goddess!, either.
Warning: This fic is somewhat silly. In places, it is downright absurd. You have been warned.
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Somewhere in Tokyo, in the chaotically inclined ward known as Nerima, a most clever and fetching female duck would once again attempt to snare her bespectacled paramour, and said male waterfowl would flee as if he were being pursued by the hounds of one Elmer J. Fudd.
This story is not about them.
No, this story begins on the other side of town, where a young martial artist is about to miss the most important meal of his day...
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6digit number presents...
Of Ice Cream and Air Conditioning
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Ranma Saotome, male, gloating over a wet, soaking panda. Akane's cooking.
Okay, Akane's cooking was not a thing to be enjoyed. Even Kasumi, Nerima's grand-mistress of kindness , gentleness, and housekeeping, had been known to politely, but firmly, decline to ingest Akane's cooking. In point of fact, there were seldom fewer than 17 nations plotting to secretly induct Akane into their covert biological weapons development programs at any given moment.
Just the same, it is very unwise to say this to her face.
"Well, gee, Akane, I'd love to eat your breakfast, but I'm still paying off the last time I had my stomach pumped."
Now, honored reader, can you guess what happened next?
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. The beautiful young goddess, Skuld, joyfully brandishing her first Kami-brand credit card.
Nani? Credit card?
Point of fact: Gods and goddesses, when on the Earthly plane, could apply for and receive their own special brand of credit card. The Kami-card, or The Plastic, as some goddesses called it, was distributed based on some very unusual definitions of 'age of consent' and 'good credit'. Belldandy had earned her first Kami-card at the tender age of six. Urd had been eternally barred from touching any such credit card five days later.
For our most innocent and youthful deity, this new blessing was cause for celebration. And for celebration, what could be better than ice cream?
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Flying over Nerima was not, in itself, an unpleasant experience. Ranma had flown over Nerima many times, and had no doubts that he would fly over it again. He had gotten used to it, and recently, he had even begun packing his own salted peanuts for his inevitable journeys. They were damn good peanuts, too. Having once told Ukyou about it, she had insisted upon helping him find the very best in mid-flight snacks. And these were very good peanuts: they made the landings less painful.
And now, Ranma had finished his peanuts. Gravity called.
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Somewhere between the Tendo residence and Furinken High School, the elderly Mrs. Eboshi waited for someone. And as she waited, she gripped her ladle with a quiet sense of purpose, as she spread water over her sidewalk.
A young man's arrival was heralded by the mezzo forte thump of flesh on concrete. The elderly woman winced as a cloud of dust arose to bother her sinuses, but she bore the irritation with stoic pride – the path of a water-spreading old lady is fraught with peril. In her moment of weakness, however, Mrs. Eboshi failed to drench the offending sidewalk before the youth had jumped clear. So it was that Ranma Saotome, male, finally came face to face with Mrs. Eboshi, the water-spreader.
"Hey, watch where you're throwing that stuff, will ya?"
"Eh?" Mrs. Eboshi squinted. Surely this young man had not been here a moment ago. "Are you from the air conditioning company?"
In truth, Ranma's response was somewhat incoherent and almost completely concerned with how he had been drenched with water at this very location on the morning of every single school day since he had first arrived in Nerima six months earlier. How Mrs. Eboshi managed to interpret this as an affirmative answer, only Kami-sama knows. In any event, Mrs. Eboshi was very glad that someone had finally come to help her.
"Come along, young man, my air conditioner won't fix itself."
Even in his slightly dazed condition, Ranma was fairly certain that the duty of a martial artist and man among men did not extend to HVAC repair. This was compounded by the fact that Ranma's stores of martial knowledge included absolutely no mention of electromechanical devices. In future years, this would be rectified by a challenge from the heir to a distant school of martial arts HVAC and kitchen appliance maintenance, but at this time and place, Ranma was faced with a difficult choice. He could try to fix the air conditioner, or he could face an old lady with a ladle full of water.
Ranma sighed, and began trying to understand the strange device.
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. A young martial artist, lost in nature, with no need of any sort for the heavy umbrella strapped to his back. His greatest enemy, who could be seen trying to teach himself the darkest secrets of air conditioner maintenance.
Ryouga's double take was perfectly executed. His greatest enemy...
"Ranma Saotome! Prepare to die!"
Splash!
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. A young martial artist, lost in Mrs. Eboshi's well-kept backyard, with no ability to use the heavy umbrella still attached to his discarded backpack. His greatest enemy, making a deal with the most dangerous water-spreading old lady on the face of the Earth.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Eboshi, but if you have a kettle of hot water handy, it would really help."
"Certainly, young man. You just wait out here."
It is possible that Ranma was suffering the aftereffects of his ballistic interface with the concrete sidewalk earlier in the morning. It is also possible that he had realized that there was no escaping a ladle-wielding old woman unless her demands were met. In any case, that he was able to quickly explain the situation to Ryouga would probably qualify as a miracle in some less fortunate nations. That Ryouga was able to hide in the bushes, change back into a human, and emerge in the same neighborhood was a sure sign that the Goddess Relief Office was involved.
Ryouga probably would have spared no effort in departing if Mrs. Eboshi had not noticed him first.
"Oh, hello there! Are you here to help with the air conditioner?"
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Two young martial artists, a ladle-wielding senior citizen, and an air conditioning machine.
"Ryouga, are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Look, Ranma… I may not be the world's best navigator, but I know how to fix a 747 engine. Okay?"
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the brightly shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Two young martial artists, an elderly water-spreader, and an air conditioner – no, a 747 engine – well, whatever it was, it worked now, thanks to... well... blind luck probably, but it was Ranma and Ryouga that got the credit.
And along with that credit, each received a handful of yen notes – the water-spreader's reward for a job well done.
Ryouga disappeared from the streets of Nerima, and our story, shortly thereafter.
Ranma, on the other hand, had a fist full of yen notes that Nabiki didn't know about. For money like that, there could only be one fate: Spend it. Spend it now. Spend it before that bloodsucking ice queen could think of a way to get her hands on it.
Now, what to spend it on. Anything material, Nabiki would discover, and he would be charged for it. No matter what, Nabiki would make him pay if she found out. No good movies out at the moment, and one of his fiancées would invariably find him if he tried. Food, then. Nobody could bother him if he just bought food.
The more Ranma considered it, the more sense it made. Food was untraceable, his fiancées couldn't possibly try to claim it, and it wouldn't be Akane's cooking. At this moment, Ranma's stomach was informing him as to just how great food would be. Having worked outside all morning, perhaps he should start with a cool drink...
Splash!
Ice cream. Definitely ice cream.
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Unbeknownst to, or perhaps simply unnoticed by, certain auspicious – and decidedly anti-competitive – members of the Nerima restaurant community was the local branch of 131's Ice Cream. Located somewhat away from the main thoroughfares, and boasting more than 131 flavors alongside countless choice confections, it was precisely the ice cream shop to visit if one wished to dispose of one's honestly-gotten gains.
It was also a fine place to test one's new credit card.
As it would happen, these very thoughts were occurring to the harmless seeming young ladies in front of the counter. That neither could properly be called harmless – or even young ladies – did not enter into the thoughts of the woefully uninformed store clerk. However, there is only so far that being uninformed can take you.
For Ranma, whose grasp of chi and ki flows was well above the norm, it was quite obvious that the girl pondering the differences between Triple Chocolate Deluxe and rocky road was more powerful than one Saffron, a demi-godly phoenix that he'd recently fought. Judging by her countenance, as she glanced between the Caramel Chocolate Ripple and the Ultimate Cosmopolitan, this was a connoisseur of the highest order, and that merited only one course of action.
For Skuld, whose professional understanding of magic was leagues above that of the average teenager, it was very clear that the girl looking carefully over the Mint Chocolate Chip and the Fiesta Almond Fudge was radiating far too much chi to be an ordinary mortal. Judging by her countenance, as she glanced between the Jalapeno Vanilla Swirl and the Devil's Fudge Rhapsody, this was a connoisseur of the highest order, and that merited only one course of action.
"Wanna race?"
"Loser pays."
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. In a quiet little confectionary set apart from the main streets of Nerima, two practitioners of a rare and amazing art prepared to face off.
On the east side facing her opponent, a well-built, athletic redhead of 17 years sat poised in front of a five-gallon tub of Butterscotch Sundae Fudge ice cream. On the west side, an exotic seeming 14 year-old with unusual facial markings sat facing her foil over a similar container filled with Berry Mountain Splendor. Unbeknownst to the general community of Nerima, or even the serving staff of the shop, a pitched battle in the tradition of Martial Arts Ice Cream Consumption would begin with just one word…
"Itadakimasu!"
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. A martial arts duel over giant-sized ice cream receptacles that would decide a matter more pressing than life and death: Yes, the loser would be stuck with the bill.
Of course, to the untrained observer, it might look as though the two combatants were merely stuffing their faces. Although the school of Martial Arts Ice Cream Consumption is a great and venerated style dating back as far as 1928, the basic moves two which the two were holding themselves consist mainly of hardly noticeable adjustments of posture and position such as would maximize caloric intake and prevent the much-dreaded brain freeze. A powerful art, but mostly harmless. The first finish would win, but to stop anywhere short, even to attack, would mean forfeit.
Indeed, this art was mostly harmless… unless your practitioners happen to be very skilled, or in possession considerable spiritual powers. And if, for example, your practitioners could cast spells or manipulate chi energies in one hand while still eating with the other…
Honored reader, perhaps you will not begrudge the narrator for having fled the vicinity of such obvious destructive potential.
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Whilst being observed from a theoretically safe distance by an enlightened person who shall remain unidentified, Ranma prepared to move the competition to its next level. Still eating with one hand, he gathered his chi in the other with the confidence that had served him well in so many battles. He then gave it form and it was released.
"Mini Mouko Takabisha!" Did you know, esteemed reader, that it is a mark of true mastery when one is able to eat continuously and still speak clearly?
Of course, this would be a very short battle if the opponent failed to counter. For Skuld, it was as simple as reaching into subspace. "Neo Skuld Bomb!"
And the game was joined. In the next few minutes, chi blasts and bombs passed rapidly between the combatants. Some detonated harmlessly, but most connected with some confection or another to wreak such undeserved destruction upon the shop as should never be hoped for. What would become of any 131's Ice Cream outlet when their Heavenly Chocolate Ripple is melted by a deflected bomb? What is the fate of any ice cream shop with their last supply of French Vanilla upended by an errant chi blast? And what of the hours of loving care that the staff put into the display of ice cream cakes? Oh honored reader, it is a horror not soon to be forgotten.
Fortunately for this world of ice cream lovers, the natural limit of the match was swift in approaching. For you see, no matter how destructive the bout, Ice Cream Consumption Martial Arts lasts only as long as there is ice cream. And the competitors in question were both nearly done.
Why then, might their elegant off-hand gestures elicit such dread from the enlightened onlooker? Was it in the simple reversed spiral of the redhead's dainty fingers? Perhaps it was the intricate arcane gestures of the younger girl's arm. In any event, there was a definite sense that all of something would soon be set loose.
"Hiryuu Shoten Ha, Reversed!"
"Divine Retribution!"
*****
Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Within the smoking husk of what was formerly a fine little ice cream shop, two not-so-ordinary young girls looked over the destruction they had wrought.
The youthful goddess looked up at her foil. Although the strange girl was dripping with Butterscotch Sundae Fudge, she was most definitely unharmed. It would seem she was lucky – or extremely strong. As the shock of the last few moments cleared, something else, molten and sticky, intruded upon Skuld's consciousness.
The pigtailed girl glanced at her opponent. Although the strange girl was covered with Berry Mountain Splendor, she was most definitely unharmed. It would seem she was talented – or extremely lucky. As the shock of the prior moments cleared, Ranma began to register the expression of rage on the other's face.
Not good.
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. A young girl searching for her wayward fiancée. A young girl who, as it would happen, had short blue hair, brown eyes, and a mallet concealed on her person. A young girl who knew that her fiancée was likely to be anywhere a fight was, and who was drawn to an out-of -the-way confectionary by the sounds of battle. A young girl who arrived at a time that was neither right nor wrong, but was convenient just the same.
Observe a strange girl glaring at a redhead. "You… You…"
Observe the redhead. "Uh… Hey… Uh… You're kind of cute…"
Observe the tomboy. "Ranma, you pervert!"
Ranma reached into his pocket for another bag of peanuts.
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Some days were meant to be enjoyed. The soft blue sky, the bright, shining sun, the sweet-sounding songbirds, and the fresh, clear air. Somewhere in Tokyo, in the chaotically inclined ward known as Nerima, a venerable old woman sat on a park bench as she fed her specially prepared bread to fetching female ducks.
But that… is another story.
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Author's Notes: I've posted this before, then removed it. Now it's back, and I've changed my pen name.