Author's Note: This absurd crackfic depends on knowing the Japanese TV show Iron Chef. That doesn't mean it's as funny as I think it is. First posted for LJ Comm Inu-kaidan's "Kill-off Challenge." I don't like deathfic, but Naraku does.
Disclaimer: I paraphrase form the English translation of the opening and other voiceover bits. I don't own the rights to it anymore than I do to Inuyasha, but I gleefully borrow for tasteless and inane purposes.
Allez Cuisine!
As mood music begins, the lights come up on a beautiful, spotless stage unlike any other. No humans can be seen, only shining countertops, sconces alight with bright flames, and the portraits of the masters of their craft. A voiceover booms forth…
Nearly a decade ago, a crossdresser's fantasy became a reality in a form never seen before: Kitchen Stadium, a giant cooking arena. The motivation for mercenary work slaughtering hundreds of men to amass a fortune to create Kitchen Stadium was to encounter new original cuisines which could be called true artistic creations. To realize his dream, he secretly started choosing the top chefs of various styles of cooking, and he named his men the Iron Chefs: the invincible men of culinary skills. Each is known for his cooking style:
Iron Chef Hack and Slash is Bankotsu!
Iron Chef Sear and Burn is Renkotsu!
Iron Chef Iron Skillet is Ginkotsu!
Iron Chef Slice and Dice is Suikotsu!
Iron Chef Sauces and Aromas is Mukotsu!
And Iron Chef Mash and Crush is Kyokotsu!
Kitchen Stadium is the arena where Iron Chefs await the challenges of master chefs from around the world. Both the Iron Chef and challenger have one hour to tackle the theme ingredient of the day. Using all their senses, skills, creativity: they are to prepare artistic dishes never tasted before. And if ever a challenger wins over the Iron Chef, he or she will gain the people's ovation and fame forever. Every battle, reputations are on the line in Kitchen Stadium, where master chefs pit their artistic creations against each other. What inspiration will today's challenger bring? And how will the Iron Chef fight back? The heat will be on!
As the music swells, Chairman Jakotsu saunters forward, pride in his every mincing step. He reaches forward into a bowl of ripe red, yellow, and green peppers decorated with cherry blossoms. He pulls out a blossom, smells it, and puts it in his hair. The camera pans left and the voiceover continues.
We welcome tonight's panel of judges, both ramen-guzzling gluttons who would not know haute cuisine if they were hit over the head with it: Inuyasha the inuhanyou and Shippo the kitsune.
Polite applause blooms as the two judges wave idiotically to the camera, which slowly pulls back and widens to show the usual parade of dozens of sous-chefs and students of the Chairman's school.
But horrors!
Instead, we see dead bodies everywhere, white uniforms spattered with blood and other unnamable substances. Suddenly, the camera veers to the side of the hall, where a pale creature with flowing, ebony hair and a skin-tight black chef's uniform is cackling madly.
"You think you can get rid of me?" Naraku scoffs. "I should be Head Iron Chef! I made you, Jakotsu! Chairman, my hanyou ass! You dared disqualify me for unhygienic cooking methods because I used my own tentacles to spice up the soup? I am here to avenge myself! I demand to take on the challenger before the TV viewers!"
Floating in gracefully, Lord Chef Sesshoumaru of the Western Lands appears before Naraku, his hand embroidered silver uniform sparkling under the stage lights. "I accept the challenge," he says, in a rich, impassive baritone.
The Chairman scowls. "This is my Stadium and my show!" he whines, pointing in Naraku's direction. "You were supposed to battle against Aniki-chan! And now just look at him! How the hell am I going to find someone to resurrect him at this hour?"
"Get on with the challenge," Inuyasha waves. "We're hungry, and I wanna see if old one-arm Onii can cook any better than he can fight!"
An assistant stage manager whispers a reminder of ratings to Jakotsu and suggests he continue. Clearly flustered, the Chairman stamps his foot for silence in the Stadium. "Fine. We'll do this. But you'll be sorry, spider-bitch," he hisses.
The tank with the special ingredient for the challenge at last rises from a cloud of steam, a beautifully embroidered red cloth tents over a tall, slender object. Jakotsu flamboyantly whips off the cloth to reveal a naked Kouga, pissing a wide arc into a huge golden bowl.
The announcer clears his throat and proclaims: Today's theme: wolf piss!
"Allez cuisine!" Jakotsu cries.