Hey, everybody, Rider V3 Stoppable here, and I brought with me a special guest, all the way
from Japan, the incomparable, the unstoppable, the unbeatable Hiroshi Tanahashi.
Hiroshi: Konnichiwa, homies.
Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to help with my disclaimer.
Hiroshi: It's no big, really, now where's those motherfucking Disney vamps?
Over there with their Vampire Overlord, Michael Eisner, right underneath
that black cloud of death, you can't miss it.
Hiroshi: Showa no kyuuketsuki, omae wa mou shinde iru. You do the previews for this
chapter, I'll take care of these guys.
As Oded Fehr said it best, Allah hu mana, Broha.
Hiroshi: (as he goes off to face the vampire horde) TORA, TORA, TORA, DAI KAMIKAZE!
The sound of an entire clan of vampires getting their asses hand to them by a single japanese
professional wrestler can be heard in the distance.
Okay, when we last left off, we learned a little bit about Shocker and who runs it, but what's the
deal with the kooky codenames? Plus, how smoothly things are going for most of the people of
Middleton, and a little more about the friends of Team Possible, but what's the Rockwallers'
involvement? We're also delving into the lives of Drakken and Shego, as well as introducing
some people new to the K.P. universe. So, in closing, let me officially start with a disclaimer,
I, Rider V3 Stoppable, do here by declare that...
Michael Eisner: (screaming in pain, agony, and suffering) PUSS-SPEWING, BLOOD-GUTTING
HELL!
Hiroshi, either shut that suckhead up, or kill that bastard more quietly. I'm trying to do the
disclaimer here. Anyway, I DON'T OWN ANYTHING, aside from some O.C.s here and there.
Well, that does it for previews and disclaimer. Hiroshi-kun, you done yet?
Hiroshi drives the stake into Michael Eisner's heart one, last, time before slaying the unholy,
undead, Overlord once and for all.
Hiroshi: (comes back covered in vampire's blood) Hai, Raidaa-kun, owari desu.
Yatta, okay, read and review, or I'll send Hiroshi Tanahashi after you, and he'll be in a sour
mood if you don't.
Chapter 2: Reunions and new friends
Josh couldn't believe what was about to happen, he had failed in everything he attempted, and
now, he was given the cruelest of fates. Without his parents to back him up, or break him out,
he had nothing to live for. The prisoners over at the Dale Marsden prison will use him up like no
tomorrow. In a few hours he would become a brand-spanking new prison bitch.
Josh: When I get out, I'll make damn sure to kill the both of you, Mother and Father. Then, I'll trick
my idiot brother into drinking an arsenic cocktail. You'll see, you'll all see when I get out. The real
bitch of it is how the hell I'm gonna do it.
As for his family's business, company stock went to an even lower profit margin. The recently
completed trial had garnered negative publicity for the Mankeys, and their grandiose corporation.
Soon enough, more and more of their subsidiaries have decided to split apart from the Shocker
mega-conglomerate, becoming independent of the pan-global industry. There were only a handful of companies still faithful to Shocker, but even their profit garnering abilities proved useless, especially in the face of a scandal that didn't just rock Middleton, but also the entire county, state, country, conntinent, and even the entire world. With the backlash of the Josh Mankey incident already taking it's toll, the Mankeys had no other choice but to allow their subsidiaries to go independent, relinquishing it's hold on the world's economy to have a chance to recover. But, how does this effect Team Possible, you ask. Well let's find out, shall we?
Bueno Nacho, Middleton, Colorado
Brick: Hey, gang, did you get the 411 about the S.P.C. on yesterday's five o'clock news?
Felix: Yeah, we heard that in order to stay afloat in the midst of bankrupcy, Shocker Products
Corporation had to cancel their contracts with their subsidiary companies, and rendered them
all completely independent from them, by selling the controlling stocks of each of them back
for practically a penny's worth each.
Kim and Ron: (shock and awe, in unison) Say what?
Ron: Jinx, you owe me a kiss.
Kim: (lovingly) When we get home, I'm gonna give more than just a kiss.
Tara: Woah there, cowgirl, save the naughty stuff for in private.
Monique: Do you guys know what this means, though, they could lose all their political
connections all over the world, and all because your Ron-man went Bruce Lee on Josh.
Kim, that means he's not getting out of jail at all, and if he does, they'll probably send him
to a sanitarium for the criminally insane, if he's lucky to survive Day 1 in the Dale Marsden
Uber-max Federal pennatentiary.
Beep-beep-da-beep
The group then heard that all-too-familiar ringtone from the Kimmunicator. Kim then answered
to see who was calling her. As soon as the hologram flickered on, she immediately recognized
who was calling.
Kim: Hey, Wade, long time, no see.
Wade: Hey, Kim, it's good to see you and Ron, too. I just wish it were under better conditions.
Ron: What do you mean, Wade?
Wade: There's a distressing message on the Team Possible site.
Kim: What's the sitch, Wade?
Wade: How many people are with you?
Ron: Just Rufus, Monique, Tara, Felix, Brick, and myself, why?
Wade: Because a death threat has been issued against the two of you, your families, your friends,
and their families as well. It's been sent by someone calling themself "Emperor Draculoid".
Kim: Did you trace where they sent it from?
Wade: I'm trying even as we speak, but whoever's behind this, bounced the signal off of all of the
global satellites that are currently in orbit, and used multiple communications networks as decoys
within decoys, like a Mamushka doll, and they were clever enough to encrypt their I.P. adress
with a trinary encryption code program with firewalls upon firewalls, and the passwords change
hourly, it'll take some time, but there's no computer that can't be hacked by "The Master".
Ron: How do you plan on that, Load-meister?
Wade: I happen to know an expert on this matter. He's a god among the hacker community,
who's gotten more hard copy from all the international databases and mainframes, networks,
and government agencies in the world. He's on Global Justice's most wanted hackers list, at
the numero uno position, to be exact. G.J. calls him by the name, "Shadow Warrior", because
of the facts that he's never been caught, he can't be identified, he's totally untraceable, and he
only causes either minor mischief, to have a few laughs, or governments and organizations to
crumble if they're engaged in any illegal activity. Rumor has it, is that he can hack into any
computer in the world, and make copies of every file imaginable, then crash their systems in only
3 minutes.
Kim: What's his real name, if he can help us, we need to know.
Wade: Fortunately, I do know him personally, his name's E.T. Becker.
WOOT, I'M IN THE STORY!
Kim: You mean the international kendo champion, legendary otaku, and boy genius from the "Steel City" itself.
Ron: The guy whom, at the tender age of seven, hacked into Area 51, just to get the skinny on the
"Roswell Conspiracy", and narrowly avoided being caught.
Felix: The dude whom, at age 16, built a portable Uber-computer, just to steal surplus funds from
the hidden bank accounts of big wig oil companies, and redistribute them to various charities and
down trodden homeowners, to help them afford the intrests, leans, and mortgages on their
homes.
Monique: Ya know, for a white guy, he sure is one bad mother...
Tara: SHUT YO' MOUTH!
Monique: I was only talkin' 'bout E.T., Tara.
Brick: Chill, Baby, we can dig it.
Rufus: (doing an Isaac Hayes impersonation and wearing 70's style sunglasses) Hnk, right on!
Kim: Do you know where we can find him?
Wade: His current whereabouts is in the Kourakuen Stadium, in Tokyo, Japan. Apparently, he's
in a tounament of olympic proportions. If he wins, he could very well bring home the gold.
Ron: Thanks, Wade, just one more question, do they have Bueno Nacho in Japan?
Wade: Over 50 locations in Tokyo alone, why?
Ron: (impersonating Fred Rogers) Can you say "booyah"? Sure you can, it's easy.
At the same time in Tokyo
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, we now begin the final match in the olympic kendo tournament
on this beautiful summer day here in Kourakuen Stadium, the birth home of the japanese equal to
the american Power Rangers franchise, Super Sentai. In this match, we have our local hero, the
national kendo champion, Kirimaru Ichijouji, and the U.S. sensation, and kendo's very own answer
to Lance Armstrong, the U.S. national champion and 5 time winner/4 time defender of the coveted
international championship, the olympic gold medalist, E.T. Becker.
At the mere mention of his name, the american olympic team's fans rejoiced with a resounding
applause, and a standing ovation... wait a tick, that's me they're rooting for. What am I doing
typing this story up? I gotta go, I'm gonna win one for the Gipper.
Referee: Alright, you already know the rules, so I don't need to repeat myself. I want a good,
clean duel, nothin' below the belt, and absolutely no funny stuff. Kirimaru, are you ready?
Kirimaru: Osu! (that means,"I'm ready", in japanese)
Referee: E.T., are you ready?
E.T.: Yoshi, kettou da! (that means, "hell yeah, let's do this".)
Referee: Okay then, face me, bow, face eachother, bow, hajime.
The two of us take to our fighting positions, with kendo sticks at the ready. From what I've
seen in the highlights of this guy, I learned that he likes to bait his opponents, conserving
on his most powerful strikes until he sweeps their feet. Then, while they're on their backs,
and disoriented from that attack, he wails in them. The bitch of that plan of attack being,
that it's not only dishonorable, but also it takes a lot of control to not only master, but pull it off
as well. Fortunately, I've come up with a similar strategy. As the two of us began to trade
blows, blocking, dodging, and parrying eachother, I read all of his movements carefully and
quickly. Then I saw an opening as he came at me with an overhead attack. I swiftly countred
with a rising horizontal underhand strike at Kirimaru's wrists.
Kirimaru: Ittai, ittai, ittai yo! (Ow, ow, ow, that hurt!)
Referee: Point for U.S.A.'s team.
After we returned to our neutral corners, we were given a brief rest period, to cool our heels.
Even from where I was, I could tell Kirimaru was getting angry, and that he needed more time
to cool down. After the rest period, we were at it again. This time around, he tried to thrust right
at me, but I deflected his attack, spun around him, and struck him with a simple vertical strike
on top of his head, in one fluid motion. Needless to say, I was becoming the "Dennis 'The
Menace' Mitchell" to his "Mr. Wilson" in no time, flat.
Referee: Point for the U.S. team.
Kirimaru: Nan de da yo? (What the fuck?)
E.T.: Hey, Kimono Boy, you wanna know what you ought to do, y'all should just "phone home"
to your mama, and tell her that you're getting beaten by a guy from the U.S., who knows, eh?
Maybe she'll disown you outta shame, and leave your daddy, to come to the U.S. with me.
Kirimaru: Omae wa shinde kisama karukujin no ichiban, Baka yarou!
E.T.: Did you just say that I'm a dead goddamned whiteguy just now?
Kirimaru: (in english) Hell yeah I did!
E.T.: Well then, in the immortal words of Duane "The Rock" Johnson, "just bring it!"
After another rest break, I came to the conclusion that he needed to go down, and quick, like
a Thai hooker. The two of us resumed our duel until he started trying to kick me. Then, he went
Agro with the Jigen Ryu single hand kendo techniques, all the while, trying to punch me or push
me down. My strategy of making him lose his cool was working well, maybe a little too well. I
managed to dodge all of his non-sanctioned maneuvers until the referee broke it up, but just by
the skin of my teeth.
Referee: Penalty for Team Japan, Kirimaru, this is your only warning, if you attack with another
volley of unsanctioned maneuvers, you'll be disqualified, and I'll have no choice but to award the
gold medal to Team U.S.A. and ban you from active competition for three months within season.
Kirimaru: Uso tsuke yo! (You're lying!)
E.T.: Looks like it's outta the frying pan, and onto the hibachi for you, eh, Kirimaru?
Kirimaru: Laugh it up, you novice hyena, but I will kill you!
E.T. Well, Kimono Boy, y'all better put on your best evening dress, doll yourself real pretty
like, and get ready for a night on the town, because tonight I'm taking you to a ballroom blitz,
American style.
(Ballroom Blitz By Sweet)
The two of us went at it like cats and dogs, attacking, dodging, parrying, and blocking, but neither
one of us got anywhere, however, it wasn't from lack of trying on my part. He left too many spots
open for me to attack, and part of me wanted to be a sport and let him try to hit me, while another
wanted to just show off and deflect all his attacks. Then, he made two mistakes in his assault.
The first was that he overextended the start of his overhead strike. The second was that he came
in too close to me. So I thrusted at him with all my strength, and knocked him on his ass.
Kirimaru: (as he falls down) Shimatta! (Crap!)
Referee: That's game, final point for the U.S. team. E.T. has three points, while Kirimaru has
none. All the judges will now tally up their scores.
While the judges were doing their final tally, I waited with anticipation, and a baited breath, to hear
the results of the final tally.
Referee: After tallying up your scores from the previous bouts, along with the final match, the
judges have decided to give you a perfect score all around, congratulations, you're the first gold
medalist to achieve a perfect score. It is my honor to award you this year's Gold Medal in kendo.
E.T.: Meccha kakkoi yan! Domo arigatou gouzaimasu! (This is so cool! Thank you all very
much!)
The roar of applause was so thunderous, they could here it all the way back in America. It was
all overwhelming, and yet, after years of practice and perfecting my skills, very well deserved.
After my victory celebration, I decided to call it a night and head to my hotel. When I entered my
room, I decided to drop a line to my lil' buddy, Wade, via e-mail. I logged in and to my surprise,
there was an e-mail sent straight from Wade Load, himself. It told of how Team Possible had
recieved death threats from someone calling themselves, " Emperor Draculoid", and how all their
friends and relatives each recieved one. The description of the acts of murder on these people
were so graphic and detailed, in the gorchiest level of reality, I almost lost my tsukiyaki beef
and tempura right then and there. He was asking for my help and expertise in this matter, and
I couldn't in my right mind deny him the services of my internet alter-ego. So I dropped him an
e-mail detailing where I'm at, where Team Possible can meet me, and when. In his e-mail, he
said he'd pay me back for services rendered, but in mine, I said I'd do it for free.
Back in the Dale Marsden Prison on the outskirts of Middleton near Go City
The prison transport bus drove into the drop-off point, and the driver let all the passengers out.
Aside from the guards assigned to keep an eye or two on them, they all wore drab, orange
jumpsuits. While the driver was reporting to the dispatch officer and getting a record of the latest
shipment all worked up, the head prison guard walked up to the prisoners after the other guards
had lined them up and made them turn about face. The look on his face conveyed a message
saying, "if you mess with me, you turd eating maggots, I'll hardcore fuck with you."
Chief guard: Welcome to your new home, gentlemen. I'm the chief guard around here. The
name is Chief Corrections Security Officer Sam Stonewall, but you can just refer to me as,
"Sir", and you have ended up in prison because you fucked up royally in the outside. Now,
some of you are here for a few years or so, and you'll be damned lucky to get out early on
parole if you behave. Then, there's some of you who'll be here for even longer, or forever,
for that matter, and no longer can't be paroled, on account of you doing something to
piss the judge off at your sentencing trial. However, for all of you, you'll be beaten, killed,
and even raped by your senior inmates, but I won't let that happen to you. From now on,
you will eat, sleep, shower, exercise, and use the shitter when we tell you to, and if you
feel the absolute need to step outta line, you will raise your hand for me or one of the other
guards, and give us a good excuse. Remember, during this edification process, you're not
to move, talk, or touch without my say so.
As Sam continued to pace from one side to the next, he pulled out a peanut from his left pants
pocket, and cracked it open with his billy club. After he stopped in front of Mankey, and ate the
peanuts, he tossed the shell onto the ground right in front of Mankey's feet. As he bent over to
pick the shell up, Sam drove his billy club into his gut, knocking the wind out of Mankey.
Sam Stonewall: Also, however, if you don't follow the rules that the warden and myself set up, you'll soon find I can be your worst nightmare. Conversely, if you do choose to follow protocol, you'll find that I can be your best buddy, and if that happens to be the case, then we'll all get along
just fine.
There was a dramatic pause as Sam ate a couple more peanuts in front of another new arrival.
Noone went to pick up the shell that time. Looks like Mankey is in some hot water, just like
his folks, but that's for another chapter, let's check out what Shego and Dr. Drakken are up to.
Global Justice Headquarters
The one-time-villain-turned- hero-duo were working diligently on a new project, one combining
all the high-tech systems and features of the Diablo-bots, Bebes, and Synthodrones with the
functionality of the Wade-bots, and programming of E.T. Becker's Asimov Protocols. You know,
the three laws of robots that they should follow. Thusly, they'll help mankind instead of eradicating
or enslaving it. The project's name: Vanguard.
Shego: Hey, Dr. D, are you done with those prototypes yet? I'm about to grow some gray hairs
over here.
Dr. Drakken: Almost, I just finished constructing the last one, now all I gotta do is add the Asimov
protocols into their programming.
Shego: (sarcastically and enthused at the same time) Finally, that only took a few months.
You know, you should really pat yourself on the back for that technological achievement.
Dr. Drakken: (a-good-kind-of-proud smile on his face) Maybe later, but for now, let's get these bad
mofos finished. Could you please hand me the Asimov protocol disk, my dear cohort?
Shego: (pleasantly surprised at his polite manners) Sure thing, Doc, let's just hope they work like
E.T. said they would.
Dr. Drakken: Of course they work, they were created by the foremost computer program expert in
the entire span of the globe. Why wouldn't they?
The good doctor don't know me too well, do he?
Shego: (slightly suspicious) Remember when he sold faked N.A.T.O. control and military missile
launch codes to every villain, terrorist faction, and crime family all around the world, as an April
fools joke, and called the feds on them, anonymously, of course, and worked up enough credits to
go to college at Tokyo University, to become a Manga-ka.
What can I say, ain't I a stinker?
Dr. Drakken: (obviously pissed as hell) Yes, thank you for bringing that "happy" memory up, now
would you please hand me the Asimov protocol disk?
Shego: (non-chalantly) Yeah, sure, here ya' go.
As Shego handed him the disk, their hands inadvertantly touch for what seemed to be eternity, but
was actually a mere 3 minutes. Their eyes locked in a gaze with eachother, and their mouths had
opened in sudden realization. Just as quickly as it rose to the surface, the former villains hid it
once more and got back to the task at hand, building an army of robotic heroes.
Shego: (curious and hopeful) So, Dr. D, you got anyone special in your life, I mean, besides your
mom, at all?
Dr. Drakken: (moving closer to Shego) No, never had time for friends, dating, or settling down,
that is, until we helped save the world. Why do you ask?
Shego: You mean a handsome and smart guy like yourself, never had a girlfriend, ever, in his
entire career?
Dr. Drakken: (puzzled and confused) Are you being sarcastic, again?
Shego: No, its just that I've only just now noticed how good you look.
Dr. Drakken: (blushing like a June bride) Oh, well, um...uh, you don't look too bad yourself,
Beautiful.
With that, Shego turned even redder than her boss/best friend/punching bag. She had never in
her entire life heard anyone other than her father call her beautiful, and it made her shed tears of
joy.
Dr. Drakken: (very apologetic) I'm sorry, Shego, that just came out, I didn't mean to make you cry.
It's just that ever since you came to work for me, I've always admired your tenacity, your strength,
and your beauty from a distance, but my lack of experience in relationships, coupled with my overt
self-consiousness, forced me not to elevate our own relationship beyond platonic or professional.
If you want to go back to your brothers, I'll understand, but I just wanted to tell you, Shego, that I
fell in love with you, from the day we first met.
Shego: (still shedding joyful tears) You big lunk-head, why didn't you tell me about how you felt so
much sooner? Why pussy-foot around it for years and, all of a sudden, drop this bombshell on
me?
Dr. Drakken: Like I said, I've never been in a relationship before, and I didn't know how you'd
respond to it.
Shego: (pretending to be angry) I'll tell You how I'd respond, now stay still, this won't hurt one
bit.
Fearing for the worst, that his actions had angered Shego to the point of meltdown, Dr. Drakken
closed his eyes and waited for the end. What came instead was a tender, loving kiss on his lips.
When he opened his eyes again, the sight that greeted him was so gorgeous, that it made his
heart whole, it left him complete. That sight was none other than Shego wearing a captivating
smile on her face.
Shego: (smiling like the Cheshire cat) Don't you worry, Blue Boy, I'm not mad at you. I was
just beginning to wonder when or if you'd tell me how you felt about me, or if you really didn't like
me, in that way. It was hard on me because I was crushing on you fiercely, and I only made it
worse by pushing you away emotionally. I'm so sorry for how I treated you, and for what I said to
you over the years.
Dr. Drakken: (with tears in his eyes) No, it's okay, my love. I'm the one who messed up, not you.
If anyone should be feeling bad, it's me. You could never do wrong in my book.
Shego: (holding Drakken in a loving embrace) So you're sorry, and I'm sorry, and that just means
that we're both sorry. Life is too short for regret, my darling doctor. Kiss me, kiss me now and
make me feel better.
Dr. Drakken: Whatever you say, my emerald goddess.
With that, the duo finally shared a deep, romantic, and passionate kiss, one that started out as
innocent as a peck on the lips, then escalated when Shego turned it into a frencher. Soon, it had
evolved into a full-on make-out session, when Dr. Drakken engaged Shego in a game of tonsil
hockey. Both had their arms around one another, making a silent promise, a solemn vow, to
never let eachother go. Then, the two pulled away for air, their eyes glued to one another, unable
to look away for fear of losing every bit of magic and wonder before their gaze.
Dr. Drakken: I'd better finish up on the Vanguard prototypes before Dr. Director pulls the plug on
the project for not reaching the completion deadline.
Shego: Yeah, wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?
The two of them got back to work, all the while, intently sharing deeply romantic gazes with one
another. It seems Cupid's arrow had done it's work, and brought the former villains closer and
closer together. Now let's see what's going down with Team Possible.
Tokyo International Airport
The flight to Tokyo, for Team Possible, was paid in full by their super-hacking benefactor, whom
of course, is the same schlub writing this turkey. It featured first class acommodations, both to
and from the land of the rising sun. However, none of this concerned the two, not one bit. So,
they opted for a trial membership in the "Mile-high Club" and found it to be satisfactory. I won't
go into much more detail than that, but needless to say, they flew the "friendly skies", if you know
what I mean. When they got back to their seats, there were mixed looks at the two of them for
what they just did, along with whispered responses as to what the fellow passengers heard from
the plane's lavatory. The men were either proud of Ron for his "physical" endowments and his
bon-diggity girlfriend/lover, or totally envious of the blonde freckled young man. The ladies had an
almost similar reaction to Kim and her boyfriend/Don Juan, except they remembered her skills in
over 16 styles of kung-fu. The flight, aside from that isolated incident, was for the most part quite
enjoyable, and things couldn't be better for them. When they boarded off of the plane, they began
looking for a guy in his early 20's wearing a wardrobe that was a combination of Toshiro Mifune,
James Dean, and John Wayne all rolled into one, glasses, and had shaggy, dirty blond hair.
Wade said he'd be holding up a sign that read Team Possible, and that he'd be at the gate with
some grande sized Nacos. As they scanned the crowd for the mystery man, they hear a young
American man call out to them.
E.T.: Hey, Team Possible, over here.
Ron: What the...?
Kim: Oh, brother!
E.T.: Ohayo kon bon wa. Welcome to Tokyo. Ore no namae wa Edward Thurston Becker desu.
Ron: A.K.A. Shadow Warrior, the greatest hacker in the world?
Kim: Why are you dressed like that?
E.T.: What, ain't you never hear of the legendary Samurai Gunman before?
Kim & Ron: (in unison) No.
E.T.: Jinx, you owe me a sake. Anywho, yins must be Team Possible, and that must mean yins
need my help busting a jagoff. Well, if yins will kindly follow me, I'll take yins to the limo. Oh, one
other thing, jeet-jet?
Kim: I beg your pardon?
Ron: Kim, he's speaking in Pittsburghese, I think he wants to know if we ate yet.
Kim: (in a dumbfounded shock) Oh, well we already had dinner on the flight, but knowing my Ron,
he's probably craving some Nacos.
E.T.: Well then, Mr. Stoppable, today's your lucky day. I have 15 grande sized Naco/Chimerito
combo meals inside the limo. Why don't you and your li'l naked mole-rat buddy help me scarf
them down, what do you say?
All of a sudden, a familiar looking naked mole-rat popped his head out of Ron's pocket.
Rufus: Hnk, Naco!
Ron: Dude, you so hurricane rock in stereo.
E.T.: Well, it's the least I could do. Now, let's get to the hotel before the Yakuza start coming after
us.
Kim: Why?
E.T.: Oh, no reason other than I humiliated a Yakuza boss' son on worldwide television. Now, he's gunning after me. He probably wants to kill me and restore his family's honor.
Ron: Why the hotel?
E.T.: It has U.N. and G.J. security, along with all the amenities.
Kim: You know, you could of just left a message on my website.
E.T.: I did, it's just taking a while to process.
Just then and there, the Kimmunicator went off. I'll give you three guesses as to whom is calling.
Kim: (pull's out the Kimmunicator) Go ahead, Wade, make it quick.
Wade: Hey, Kim, did you get to E.T. in Tokyo already?
Kim: (with an exasperated look on her face) He's standing right next to us, now, what's the sitch?
Wade: A message just came onto the site, from none other than our super hacker friend here.
It seems that the Ichjouji Yakuza has put out a hit on E.T., and a price on his head.
Kim: (rolling her eyes) Oh, really, you don't say?
Wade: I do say, Kim, I do say.
Ron: Do you happen to know how that came to be, by any chance?
Wade: He humiliated Boss Satoshi Ichijouji's son, Kirimaru, on live, worldwide television by taking
home the gold for team U.S.A., that's how.
E.T.: (smug and cocksure) You know, with those weak-ass skills of his, he should change his
legal name to, "Kirihime", if yins ask me.
Kim: Well, in all fairness, he did resort to cheating and illegal manuevers to try to win.
Ron: Yeah, Broha, you had him beat easy. What method of attack did you use?
E.T,: Well, I used the "Bugs Bunny" method to anger him and humiliate him at the same time,
leaving him open for an attack. The best way to find an opening is to break their ego down, bit by
bit, until they've been blinded by their own frustration.
Just then, the whole Ichijouji yakuza arrived on the scene, complete with their Oyabun, which is a
japanese title for the Boss or Don of a yakuza. Needless to say, Satoshi was pissed.
Satoshi: Oi, nan de dayo? (Hey, what's going on here?)
All of a sudden, we were surrounded by the Ichijouji Yakuza, all of whom were brandishing either
their chains, sickles, daggers, nunchaku, sai daggers, knives, kali sticks, swords, or any other
traditional weapon issued to any soldier of any yakuza. Looks like a japanese stand-off is in
order.
E.T.: Oh, moshi moi, Satoshi-san, nan de desu ne? (Oh, hello, Satoshi-san, what's up?)
Satoshi: (cheerful veneer hiding the venom in his words) Ah, Edward Becker-san, just the man
we wanted to see. My loyal and honorable soldiers have come all this way to congratulate you
on your impressive victory yesterday, too bad my son is not feeling well enough to join us. But
I see you've brought some friends of your own.
E.T.: (bows lightly to show respect) Thank you all for the warm ovation, as to my friends here,
with me is Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, and their partner, Rufus the naked mole-rat.
At that moment, Rufus revealed himself to the Oyabun.
Rufus: Hnk, Kon bon wa!
Satoshi, instead of being scared shitless, however, began laughing his toucas off. He foolishly
believed that all I had with me were a couple of cosplayers, ones that were dressed up as the
famous Team Possible. Needless to say, Team Possible were not amused, not, one, bit.
Satoshi: (coming off of a belly laugh) So, you trained a little rodent to speak, then hired a couple
cosplayers to dress up as Team Possible and meet you here at the airport, oh, I'm shaking in my
wabaki.
To say you could see the Oyabun's sarcasm in that remark from a mile away would be the biggest
under statement of the decade, but to say that Mt. Vesuvius had nothing compared to the hidden,
seething rage of the two partners-turned-lovers, and their little buddy/mascot, would dwarf it to an
exponential degree. There's gonna be blood on the streets of the Shinjuku district, I just know it.
What really didn't help matters none, was that Satoshi had not only the gaul to laugh at us, but to
have his dead-beat buddies join in. This angered me even more. Normally, I'm a peaceful kind of
guy, but no one, and I mean no one, insults my prospective clients, no matter if I work pro-bono
or not. So, I grabbed hold of my kendo stick, and adopted a traditional fighting stance, ready to do
three things of my kendo-style-streetfight-to-do list: 1. Kick ass. 2. Munch on a naco. 3. Take all
their names down. There were only two problems with that, I left my nacos in the limo, and I was
running out of room in my composition book. Maybe I should by more of them in bulk, and do it
through wholesale instead of retail.
Satoshi: (silences all of his hoods before he speaks) By the way, Edward-san, that remark about
my wife yesterday really cut me deep. So deep, that I decided to make you an offer you cannot
refuse, give us a million dollars in american money, along with your coveted Gold Medal, and
never show your face in Japan ever again. If you do these favors for us, we'll spare your life, of
course, if that's not to your liking, we can take it out from your friends.
Random Yakuza Thug: Oy, this redhead looks fine enough to fuck, Okashira (that word means
boss in japanese), I say we kill her boyfriend and rape her, then whore her out in Kabuki-cho to
make a little profit from it.
E.T.: (in a serious tone, with fire in his eyes) No deal on either counts, however, we do have a
counter-offer to the one you've so generously made us.
Satoshi: (curious about the offer) Go on, what is this offer that you make?
E.T.: You and your boyfriends make like bonsai trees and leave, or else me and the real-deal
Team Possible is gonna go all Mt. Usu on all of yins collective asses, and stomp yins like
Godzilla stomps Tokyo into a messy pile of debris.
Satoshi: (shakes his head no) No deal, not after what you said about taking my wife to America,
to defile her with you're filthy penis, you cro-magnon, baka-gaijin. (idiot foreigner)
As Satoshi yells out his last insult to me, he pulls out a pinup photo of Hitomi Tanaka (famous
Japanese porn actress), and she was fully clothed. Thank goodness, because I don't wanna go
into battle with a hard-on in my pantalones, that would be the very definition of awkweird.
Random Yakuza Thug #2: (obviously the smart one of the bunch) Oi, Okashira, I think that he's
telling the truth, I recognize these teens from the Terebi (television) news reports. They're the
genuine article Team Possible.
Satoshi: (literally fuming) Shut up you useless baka, can't you see it's all a bluff, a rouse, do you
honestly believe that he knows the real Team Possible personally?
E.T.: (wearing a "poker face" look on his face) Just to make myself clear, I'll give you Jag-offs three important pieces of information: 1. He's right, that is the real Team Possible over there. 2. Even if you're right and this is all just a bluff, it must be a bluff of a bluff. 3. I thought you would have a little sense of humor, I mean after all, you married her.
Satoshi: (turning red with anger) Kill those Goddamned Gaijin!
At that command, all of Satoshi's men surrounded us like the whole Comanche nation, and we were the wagon train. Time for Plan B I suppose.
E.T.: (wearing an evil smile on his face) Hey, Ron, does Rufus do any "special tricks" during a big
combat situation such as this?
Ron: (curious like a monkey named George) Yeah, why do you ask?
E.T.: Think Steven King!
Ron: (sudden realization) Oh, I got it. Rufus, sick balls!
Rufus: Hokay!
As the rest of us had gotten into a fighting stance, cute, innocent, little Rufus scampered off of
Ron's shoulder, onto the floor, and into the right pant leg of the Yakuza's biggest, tallest, most
muscle bound Lunkhead in their entire small army. In the next minute after that, Rufus made him
sing Soprano. Then, a few seconds later, he made him sing Falsetto, and I ain't talking about the
infamous Falsetto Jones either.
E.T.: That's the signal. Let's nuke them like we did in W.W. #2.
While Kim took out ten of Satoshi's boyfriends, I drove through sixteen of them, whom were all
lined up in a nice, neat, and little row. Meanwhile, Rufus used his small size, speed, brains, and
Tai-sheng Pek-qua skills to outsmart another fourteen of them, while Ron took out twenty with his
M.M.P., martial arts moves, and some wrestling moves from out of the G.W.A., which was the city
of Middleton's answer for World Wrestling Entertainment. Needless to say, we came, we saw, we
kicked some ass, but during the fight, Satoshi Ichijouji had ran off, before we decided to give him
a little pow-wow of our own, we pow, and he ow. Does somebody wanna cue the chase music for
this scene while we track down that bald-headed Japanese Telly Savalas wanna-be?
(Run to the hills by Iron Maiden)
Thanks again!
By the time we caught up with him, he had taken an innocent seven-year-old girl as a hostage,
and with a Snub nosed Revolver made by Smith & Wesson in his hand. This guy's encorrigible.
Satoshi: (while taking a little girl at gun-point) Alright, you proved you're the real deal, but one
more step forward, and I'll blow this girl's head off!
Little girl: (fearing for her life) Okaa-san, Otou-san, tasukete yo! (Mommy, Daddy, help me!)
After hearing the little girl's plea, her parents, whom that cold and gutless bastard snatched her up
from, had started their bawling and crying, then it hit me like a ton of bricks, but in a good way.
Since Team Possible were a little bit faster than me, I went undetected by Satoshi, and because I
study Kendo, I could fall into a crowd, then sneak up behind him, and make the decisive strike.
When I finally caught up with them, I silently signaled for them to stand down, and made my move
to save the girl. The poor little angel, must be praying to Kami-sama that help would arrive soon.
When I finally did get behind him, Satoshi had bumped into me, turned around, and pointed the
gun at me, but before he could even fire one round into me, I smacked the gun out of his hand
with my Kendo stick, then while he was distracted, watching his weapon slide off into the crowd,
I cracked him in the skull, and he went out like a light. He let the girl go before his head made
friends with the floor. After the battle, the airport security officers and the police arrested all of the
asshole's men, then carted the asshole himself off to prison, after taking our statements and then,
those of the family I helped. This was going to make front page news in the morning, I just know
it.
Inside Ed's stretch limo
Kim: Wow, not only an ace in the arena, but in the streets as well. Where'd you learn how to
do that anyway?
E.T.: (modest as humble pie) Well, some of what I learned came from chop-socky flicks and the
streets, the rest can be attributed to the Kamiya-do Kenjutsu dojo in Pittsburgh, Pa.
Ron: (still in amazement) You know, if you get tired and bored of competing in Kendo tournaments
around the world, you could work with us if you like.
E.T.: (mulling it over in his head) Tempting, I'll have to sleep on it before I come to a decision in
the morning though, but thanks for the offer.
Kim: (looking to Ron) By the way, Ron, where'd Rufus learn a tactic like that?
Ron: (looking at Kim) What do you mean, it's just something Rufus picked up, is all.
Kim: (looking at him incredulously) Ron, you know what I mean, he climbed into that gigantic
yakuza's pants and bit him in family jewels.
Ron: Well, you know when we couldn't make the graduation party because of the stunt that
Josh Mankey pulled on you, and we stayed up all night, watching movies like "Stand by me"
and "The Breakfast Club" until the crack of dawn.
Kim: (wide eyed in total realization) Oh yeah, that day was one of the best days in my life.
I also remember it because it was a couple days away from your birthday. That was when
I got the original "Indiana Jones" trilogy for you.
E.T.: You know guys, I think the first three were monumentally epic, but Stephen Spielberg
and George Lucas ass-raped the poor guy when they made the fourth one.
The next morning at the Rising Sun Hotel, in Tokyo Japan
After I took care of attaining some custom special lodgings for the night, I headed up to my
swanky penthouse suite, which was fully stocked, and had more Kristal than P. Diddy's crib.
No expenses were spared for my room. Kim and Ron had the room next to mine, called the
Emperor's Suite, and it came complete with a little naked mole-rat house for Rufus to sleep in,
as well as it's own cheese fondue fountain. Needless to say, Rufus was too overjoyed for words.
We all decided to call it a night and get a fresh start tomorrow, well, at least me and rufus did,
I can't say the same for Kim and Ron. They were too busy living out the biggest, and oldest,
Japanese roleplay fantasy us foreigners have had since we reached puberty, the emperor and
the geisha. Even though my room had wall-to-wall sound proofing, I could still hear them, going
at it like a couple of Jackrabbits in their "March Madness" type heat. That was what happened
last night, and before this becomes a "Lemon" fan fiction, I'll fast forward to the following morning.
Parent folk, you'll thank me for this.
E.T.: What in the name of Mario Lemieux are those two on, Cialis and caffiene?
I regretfully decided to go from my room to theirs, and knock on the door, but fortunately, as luck
would have it, whatever they were doing had died down, and to my good fortune, Ron answered
the door while in a bath robe, at least he was semi-decent.
Ron: (looking like the cat that swallowed the canary) Oh, good morning, E.T., come on in,
I hope you slept well.
E.T.: (with a deadpan look on his face) How could you think I slept well when I could hear the both
of you making like rabbits in the middle of the night? You two kept me up till the wee hours of the
morning with your raucous lovemaking. Normally, I'm one for good old American romance as much as the next guy, but what I heard last night was loud enough to wake the dead.
Kim: (sheepish smile on her face) Sorry if we kept you up, but after that street brawl last night, we
got excited, really excited, and then we got carried away.
E.T.: (incredulous to the max) No duh, and you two still owe me a bottle of sake by the way. You
guys act like a married couple on a honeymoon or something.
All of a sudden, my train of thought was interrupted by a familiar and kooky little party animal, and
I don't mean Spuds MacKenzie.
Rufus: (at the very top of the cheese fondue fountain) Hnk, Banzai!
Rufus had done a triple twist swan dive, into a half-gator, and finished with a 1080 degree inverted
cannonball into the cheese fondue. That is one talented naked mole-rat.
E.T.: (in an announcer's impersonation, ala Michael Buffer) The olympic free-diving gold medal
goes to Rufus the Naked Mole-Rat! Nice form, and an amazingly easy landing, there's a good
chance he'll be the next Michael Phelps.
Kim: Okay, enough with the Olympic antics, let's get to the business at hand.
Ron: Yeah, you readyto do some cyber sleuthing or what?
E.T.: Already on it, Ronald, my good man. I contacted Wade and asked him to transmit the
files on these e-mails into my Becker-Com, so we can track this sea-urchin through the waves of
cyber-space, and bust him at his own game.
As I ready my personally designed and built computer, which I had invented myself using spare
bits-and-pieces from various computers and home console videogame systems, the members of
Team Possible all gathered around me as we waited for Wade's transmission. To say that the
tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife would be an apt analogy, to say the least.
E.T.: Okay, I've got all the files, but it looks like every server was used to send the e-mails, hold
on, I think I can narrow the search down with a trinary decryption program and running them by
through a Le Grange algorithm. Then, I'll wire a worm program into the trail or trails of this server
network, and have it copy all the files within its CD-ROM and CD-RAM file storage programs, just to help build a solid case against your "Emperor Draculoid" cretin. It should only take a few hours, at the least, but we should have the identity and I.P. adress of our culprit soon enough. So, who's up for a little sight seeing while we wait for the data to compile?
When I turn my head to Ron & Kim, they were sucking eachother's faces like no tomorrow, and
that's when I started laying down the law, because if somebody doesn't do it soon, they might
end up with a little bun in Kim's oven.
E.T.: (outraged beyond belief) Alright you two, I've had it up to here, either you start focusing
on the sitch at hand, or else you're gonna end up living out a George A. Romero slasher flick,
with me playing the part of the psycho-crazed killer, is that clear?
When they heard my tirade, they reluctantly stopped their romantic activities. I've no qualms
about getting it on with my honey like Marvin Gaye, but I'd much rather do it in moderation.
Kim &Ron: (in apologetic unison) Sorry, E.T., won't happen again.
When those looked at me with a sad look in their eyes, I felt so bad, I almost forgot to jinx them,
almost.
E.T.: Jinx, you owe me another sake. Now you two get dressed, and please, in the interest of all
professionalism, do it seperately, for Pete's sake.
Ron: Right, whatever you say, Broha.
E.T.: (calmer than before) Alright, just keep your heads in the game, okay?
Kim: We'll try, but we can't make any guaranties.
E.T.: That's all I ask. By the way, Ron, you've probably got the biggest equipment imaginable.
Ron: (turning beet red) Yeah, that's what Kimila tells me every night.
E.T.: Oh yeah, since when?
Kim: Since I turned eighteen.
E.T.: Oh, well whatever you do in the bedroom is your business, not mine. Next time, keep it
down to a roar, okay?
Ron & Kim: We'll try to.
E.T.: Jinx, you owe me a good night's sleep.
After the two got dressed, we took a tour of Kabuki-cho, Harajuku, the Meiji Shrine, Rakuguen
Park, the Natsu no Matsuri, and my favorite part of Tokyo, Akihabara. We even checked out a
couple stores and cafe type restaurants, to get ourselves immersed into the culture, then there
was the time when we sat next to the Emperor of Japan during a Sumo match, featuring the
famous Akebono. It was awesome. We finished it all off with dinner at a ninja themed restaurant,
just for the hell of it. I just hoped the Ninja there had stocked up on their sake, which is traditional
Japanese rice wine. The taste of which is smooth as a babies bare bottom, while the alcoholic
content was enough to knockout a full grown bull for up to seven days. It was then that Team
Possible learned my deep, dark, and most hidden secret of all: I can't hold my liquor. Oddly
enough, after my second bottle of sake, I went out like a light while I was conversing to them
about my all time favorite anime/manga franchise, which was called "Bio-Booster Armor Guyver",
and went on a riff on the similarities between it and many aspects of the Christian Bible. The kind
tennagers whom entered into adulthood had arranged for a taxi to pick us up and take us back to
our hotel, all the while, affording me enough wits to walk up to our rooms and call it a night, but my
personally invented computer had other ideas, as it had finished it's programmed tasks and had
alerted us of this.
Meanwhile, in Ginza district, Tokyo
Kirimaru: (bat shit crazy and livid) What do you mean he got away, and where's my father, for that
matter?
Yakuza thug #3: (about to mess himself) We're sorry to inform you that the Baka Gaijin had been
able to escape, and that your father had been arrested, along with sixty of our best soldiers within
our Yakuza.
Kirimaru: (makes Alec Baldwin on a bad day seem mellow) WHAT, THEY WERE ARRESTED,
AND YOU DID NOTHING TO BAIL THEM OUT?
Yakuza thug #4: (scared for dear life) Please understand the situation, Kirimaru-sama, he had
outside help in the form of Team Possible, and that your father was going to kill an innocent little
girl in front of her own parents.
Kirimaru: (shocked in disbelief) No, you're lying, father wouldn't do that. He's an honorable man,
he wouldn't do such a thing that would bring shame on to our Yakuza.
Yakuza thug #5: (relieved that his boss calmed down a bit) But it's all over the news, take a look.
The yakuza thug then turned on the television and tuned into a t.v. news station showing a story
on how Team Possible and E.T. Becker had singlehandedly fought off sixty yakuza hoods, while
their leader hid in the crowd of on-lookers, and when they came after him, he ran like the late,
great Jesse Owens ran from the I.R.S., only to take an innocent girl as a hostage. The now
disgraced Oyabun was finally brought down by the so called Baka Gaijin before the little girl was
injured or killed. All that happened last night, but for Kirimaru, the damage brought to his family
felt like it happened only just now.
Kirimaru: (in a repentant tone) Oh, dear Kami-sama, why would father do something so cowardly
like that? We must find this E.T. Becker and his friends from Team Possible, then beg for their
forgiveness, and if necessary, commit Seppuku before them.
They did find us by the way, before we boarded our flight back to America, and did in fact, beg
for our forgiveness. Then the whole bunch of them brought out their tanto daggers, and pointed
the business ends to their stomachs, but we stopped them from going through with their Seppuku
ritual,saying that their apologies were more than enough. That they didn't have to pay the debt we
were owed, and that they should continue living on, as special Japanese informants for the one
and only Team Possible, I'm glad to say that they humbly accepted the generous offer. Then we
all bowed and said our fond farewells, and while Kirimaru and his group left the airport in peace,
I turned around and said that we'd meet again.
E.T.: (looking dramatically at Kirimaru as he left) Mata aou ze, ore no tomodachi.
Kim: ( looking back at E.T.) Okay, what the deuce did you just say to him?
E.T.: (still in a dramatic pose) I told him we'd meet again.
Ron: (also looking back at E.T.) Oh, that's what I thought you said. Come on, the planes boarding
and we gotta get back to the U.S.A. before dinner.
Kim: (walking towards the entrance of the plane with us) By the way, did your computer find any
evidence as to who our mysterious e-mail heckler really is?
E.T.: (feeling like death himself walked right up to him) Yes, but I'll only tell you when we get to the
Global Justice headquarters and get your friends, families, and the families of your friends, into
the G.J. safehouses. Trust me, I know what I'm doing.
Ron: (surprised at his speech) But, why G.J.?
E.T.: Because, well, not to reveal my trade secret, but, in order to have a get-out-of-jail-free card,
at least when my hacking is concerned, I took a job building and maintaining Global Justice issued
equipment and technology.
Kim: (floored by this development) Just how much did you invent for them, anyways?
E.T.: (running to the plane) All of it, the whole shebang, the kit n' kaboodle, the whole ten yards,
why do you ask?
Ron: (in a sense of surprise that boarders between shock and awe) You mean to tell us that you
invented all of the gear that G.J. uses? Why didn't you tell us?
E.T.: (in a nonchalant yet humble tone) Oh, you know my auntie Betty, for your eyes only and need to know basis. I imagine that if G.J. had in fact found out about those anonymous e-mails that you, your friends, and your family had recieved, there would be some next level cloak-and-dagger type stuff going down right now.
As we boarded the plane, we just so happen to bump into an innocent civilian boarding the same
plane. He looked like a college professor of some type, at least, to me he did.
Fellow passenger: Oh, gomen kudasai, suimasen. (Oh, sorry about that, excuse me.)
E.T.: Hajime mashite, hai doozu. (That's alright, go right ahead.)
Passenger: (bewildered) You spoke japanese just now, and quite perfectly for a foreigner, too.
I must say I'm impressed. What's your name, stranger?
E.T.: Ore no namae wa Edward Thurston Becker desu ka. (My name is Edward Thurston Becker)
Who might you be, kind sir?
Passenger: Oh, my name's Takeshi Hongo, and I'm a college professor from the University of Tokyo originally, but now, I'm transfering to the University of Colorado. Wait a minute, I've heard about you, you're the Olympic Gold Medalist of Kendo, the one who saved a little girl from a crazed Yakuza boss, and helped Team Possible fight off all of his goons.
E.T.: (smug yet modest smile on his face) It would appear my reputation preceeds me. But, that's enough about me, allow me to introduce you to my new friends, Kim Possible, her boyfriend, Ron
Stoppable, and their partner/mascot, Rufus. Say hello, gang.
After Team Possible finished their individual greetings/introductions, the five of us, if you count little Rufus, had all boarded the plane and took our seats, fortunately, I opted to sit between Ron & Kim, just to make sure thet didn't get those urges. Thankfully, it worked like a charm and didn't put them off one bit. We had to make a couple of stops in Honolulu, and Los Angeles though, but they kept themselves in mission mode the whole way through. After we made it to Middleton International Airport, we procured a stretch limousine, and invited to give Takeshi a ride to an old friend of his, who's living in Downtown Middleton, a man by the name of Tobei Tachibana. Then, we contacted Wade, as well as Global Justice, and told them to set up some safehouses for the innocent victims of this elaborate act of cyber-terrorism. We also notified the families of Team Possible, friends of Kim & Ron, and the families of their friends, that G.J. agents would pick them up, and relocate them to undisclosed adresses for the G.J. safehouses. I only hope we're in time, especially if it's to prevent the loss of innocent people and children.
Well, that's another chapter done with, remember folks, read and review, and you'll get a free
virtual cookie, if it's a good review, I'll treat you to a virtual meal, with all the fixings. So, keep
reading and reviewing till the next chapter, same Rider-Time, same Rider-Channel.