EXCEL SAGA: The Lord of the Ring-dance
Part three of the How do you parody a parody?
By P.D. Wright
Disclaimer: Nothing is owned. All is borrowed. No money have I. So to sue is pointless.
Am reloading this due to a error in spellchecking. Thanks all who noticed it.
A black screen. Music starts, miner, low-key. Voices chanting in wordless sounds.
A voice intrudes: "Puchu, puchu puchu, puchu!"
Another voice, loader then the other; A conteralto, very masculine voice: "The world is
changed."
"Puchu, puchu pucho puuchu!"
"I feel it in the air."
"Puuuchu! Puchu puchu puchu puchu!"
"I smell in the water."
"Puchu, puchu puchu puchu!"
"What once was, is now lost.."
"Puchu Puuuuchu!"
"For none now living, remember.."
Lights up. In the secret underground base, Ill Palazo is reclining, sipping spring water and
perusing a large red book.
"Um, Lord Ill Palazo, sir.." comes a small female voice. He glances up, realizing his two agents
are there.
"Yes, Excel, what is it now?" he says, a touch of impatience in his voice.
"Sir.. you've been so wrapped up in that book, you've not sent us on any all important missions,
for nothing is more important than our task to take over the city, and then.."
"Excel, do you have to keep stating our plot every episode? I think they have caught on by now."
"Yes, well, by your leave, sir, I expect other viewers are probably turning up every week or so,
so we need to keep them informed also..."
"Don't you think your being rather overly optermistic, excel?"
A look of total confusion crossed young excel's face at that point. The other agent, Hyatt, leaned
over, said:
"He means, we have been running for several weeks, and by conventional standards, all the
viewers were likely to get we've already got. At least, I think that is what he means." A drop of
blood spilled from her mouth.
"Excellent, Hyatt. I knew you would get it."
"Yeah," Excel cried, "But were not a conventional show, are we? We shouldn't be judged by that
should we?"
"In that case, yes, your right. But then, our viewer ship would be down."
Excel's expression hit the floor, then into the several subbasements below.
"So, Watanabe, what do you wanna do tonight?" asked Iwata to his rather surly roommate,
Watanabe. Watanabe growled back at him. Unperturbed, he turned to his other roommate,
Sumiyoshi.
"What about you, Sumiyoshi?'
'I don't know what do you wanna do, Iwata?"
"I don't know, what about you, Watanabe?"
"I wanna get some new friends," growled Watanabe.
A load "Nooo-o!" sounded thru the secret HQ of Across. Hyatt blinked. Excel blinked. Ill Palazo,
er, blinked. A hand tapped Excel on the shoulder, and she found her self face to face with the
starfield that was Ishi. The Great Will of the Cosmos.
"Sorry about that. Poor Mr. Pedro's having such a bad day, you know." she said.
"Well, that's alright, Ishi," Excel said, "But please, do try to get him to lower the sonics, eh?"
"I'll try to, I will," she said, and vanished.
Meanwhile, at the HQ of the Defense Assurance Agency, the old Doctor Kabapu was gazing at
the window, as red dawn fell to cool blues and deep shadows. His ever smiling and slightly creepy
secretary, Momochi, stood there at the desk. He turned, yelped.
His members had arrived.
"Don't you people ever knock?" He asked. Watanabe scowled.
"Are you kidding," he muttered, looking sideways at Iwata and Sumiyoshi. Iwata was busily
looking at Matsuya, then at adult Roppon Matsu the first with barely disguised lust. Sumiyoshi
was.. well, there. Matsuya and Roppon where ignoring Iwata, and Watanabe was not looking
happy.
Matsuya said, "And what is this new mission you want us to go on?"
The Doctor squirmed, making the assembled uneasy. It was rarely a good sign when he was like
this, and Momochi was little reassurance, as her smile was not of the good kind.
"You said that already," Matsuya said, gazing sideways at the story.
Sorry. I get carried away.
"Better you then us," Watanabe muttered.
ANYWAY!
"Ow! Stop shouting!" the Doctor said.
Look, can we get back to this story, already?
"Already?" Asked Roppon the second, who was here, but was forgotten by your author until
now.
She scowled, "The story of my life."
"Look," Matsuya said, her voice now barely contained, "Can we get to the reason of this
already?"
"Oh, right," the Doctor said, then:
"Um.. I've forgotten now."
And the faces fell.
The Fanfic author P.D. Wright stared across the table at his nemesis. His blue eyes were like
diamonds, his long brown hair tied up in back. His hand was clenched. Sweat was running a
marathon down his face.
His opponent, Excel creator Koshi Rikudo, was staring at him, his glass fogging over. Sweat ran
down his face in rivers.
Between them, a bottle stood. It had been standing there like that for the past thirty minutes. As
had the contestants.
Finally, Rikudo sat back, wiped his brow with the back of his arm, his chin with the back of his
hand.
"Aha!" Said P.D. Wright, "You moved! That means you gotta take a drink."
Rikudo cursed, picked up the bottle, and took a heavy slug, returning it to it's former position.
He glared at the Fanfic author.
"Why are we doing this?" he asked.
"You wanted a duel."
"Yeah, but I meant something like swords.. or race cars... or video games.. hell, even madougu.
Not staring at a bottle of liquor until one of us tips it over, or moves. What kinda game is this?"
"A good game to get sloshed by," Wright smirked.
"Excel, Hyatt" Ill Palazo said.
"Hai!" replied the girls.
"I do actually have a task for you!"
"Yes sir! I will do it to the best of my abilities, and even beyond those, for nothing is beyond us
when we.."
"Yes, yes, Excel. I want you to go and witness this movie." On the screen beyond, a legend
appears.
"The Lord of the Rings..? Isn't that the name of the book you've been reading for the past several
months?"
Ill Palazo's face reddened, but he replied, "Yes it is. I have no time, what with my busy schedule
trying to take over the world, picking movies for Deep 13, and my knitting, I simply have no time
to go see this adaption of the book. That is your assignment, Excel. See this movie, and the
second one, and write a three thousand word essay on what works and what doesn't."
Excel's cute face blanched, she became pale, sweat dropped from her brow.
"Es..essay?"
"Yes. You remember, the kind you had to do in school."
"Oh", she said, then screamed, "Please Ill Palazo-sama, don't make me do an essay! Anything but
that! I'd rather face the soldiers from episode three again then write an essay! Please.."
"Stop whining, Excel. My orders stand. Anyway, I'll let Hyatt help you."
"Oh, thank you, thankyouthankyou.."
Hyatt, standing there until now mostly forgotten, now turned to Ill Palazo, raised her hand and
asked:
"Sir, what kind of movie is this that we are to review?"
"Ahh. Glad you asked. Yes, it is a fantasy film."
"Oh," Excel cried, "like Slayers, right?"
"No, Excel, more like Lodas War."
Excel's cute face fell again. This time it took out Ill Palazo's wine cellar.
"I never could understand that series..." she muttered.
Koshi Rikudo was now severely sloshed. The bottle, formerly between the two on the table, was
held by the creator in a mad binge drink, the kind that spring breaks are made for. The Fanfic
writer P.D. Wright watched him, amused.
"Better take it easy with that stuff, Koshi."
"Shawwaw. I bim drankig sinze before you w're born..."
"Umm, I rather doubt that.."
"Whatta ya mean?"
"Nothing."
"I dunt haf to take this fom you.. you two bit low live author."
"And I don't got to take that from someone who does his own dojinshi."
"I created the thing! I can do damn well what I want with it!"
"And so can I!"
"Now hold on.."
A new voice said, "No, he's right!"
The two looked up, saw the doors burst open, and a crowd of people standing in the frame.
Some American, some Asian, some from other parts of the world. All standing wearing white
shirts with the Excel Saga logo on it.
"Who the hell," said Rikudo, rising, "Are you?"
"We are the Excel Fanfiction Brigade! Dedicated to bringing a moment of insanity to everyday
life."
Rikudo face faulted. Kobayashi Excel appeared.
"Fanwriters one, author naught!"
And she and Hyatt Mikado then proceeded to sing "Ai" at maximum volume.
"And Ziggy played guitar," P.D. Wright muttered.
Excel walked down the street, her head low. She was watching the street itself, a vaguely silly
reference to the fact that she
was down. In feeling. She wasn't feeling good. Oh, hell, you got it by now.
"Essay.. I gotta write a essay.. Ill Palazo-sama ordered me to, so there's no way out.. I hate
essays... I gotta write a essay.. Ill Palazo-sama ordered me to.. Essay.. Essay.."
Suddenly, figure stood in front of Excel. A tall figure, with purple jacket, an Afro.
"Take heart, Excel," the figure said.
"Who's?" she asked.
"Listen. The way to the mountain is long. The way to Morder is fraught with danger. Don't take
up with the creature Gollum, and you'll make it in one piece."
"One piece? I hate that show."
Nabeshin (For it was him) sweat dropped. He straightened his tie, wiped his chin, said:
"Excel, to reach the lands beyond, you must break the egg shell, for if you don't, you will die."
Excel appeared with a long sword, a white outfit.
"And then what... a miracle?"
More sweat dropping from Nabeshin.
"Excel, to win over the shadow dragons, find your strength, like Van and Hitomi, beware the
laughing pyro."
Excel's eyes glistened. She looked at Nabeshin with something akin to gratitude, her hands
clamped below her chin. Her single tooth fell out of her silly grin.
"Thanks, master! I know I can now do this! I can!"
"Um..." Nabeshin started, waving a hand, "the name is Nabeshin.."
"Master! I will write the best, most wonderful essay for Ill Palazo-sama that anyone ever read! I
will do it!"
She took off, at top speed, for the video store.
Nabeshin watched her go, a sweatdrop on his head.
"I wonder if she really understood..."
At the theatre, Hyatt stood by the door, awaiting her partner in crime. Every so often blood fell
from her lips to hit the ground in silent waves, but that was momentarily. She glanced at her
watch.
"I wonder where Senior Excel is? The movie starts in five minutes."
"Ayasugi-san!"
She looked over, at Watanabe standing there, as behind him stood Iwata and Sumiyoshi. Both
dressed as hobbits.
"Oh, Mr Watanabe."
"What brings you here, Ms Ayasugi?"
"I'm here to do a report on a movie for work."
"Oh? I didn't know you where a critic."
"Critic?"
"Don't worry," Iwata interjected, "We wont hold that against you."
"Are you seeing it alone, Ayasugi-san?"
"No, my partner hasn't shown up yet.."
"Oh.. a date, eh?" Watanabe said, his face downcast.
"Oh, here she is now."
"She?" Watanabe said.
A dust cloud approached the theatre. After it subsided, Excel stood, panting in the center.
"Sorry... I'm.. late... Hatchan..."
"It's alright, Excel-sempai. We'd better hurry, though.. it's about to start."
The two girls disappeared into the building. Watanabe, Iwata, and Sumiyoshi stood, stunned.
"I wonder what movie they're seeing.." Watanabe muttered.
The apartment of Excel and Hyatt. In a corner sat a small white dog, whimpering quietly to herself.
She was wondering when her owners would return, and feared that starvation might have gotten
the better of them. She dragged several sheets off of the beds, tied them together, and headed for
the window.
Then, shrank from going down there, as it looked far too steep.
The late evening sky darkened, the tempature dropped, and of late, the movie had let out. Hyatt
was walking with Watanabe, Iwata and Sumiyoshi carried the snoring form of Excel.
"Damn, this girls' heavy," Iwata muttered.
'You said you wanted to pick a girl up at the movies,' Sumiyoshi said.
"That's not funny, Sumiyoshi," he muttered.
"I didn't know you where into fantasy films, Ayasugi-san." Watanabe said, ignoring the complaints
of his roommates. As far as he was concerned, it served 'em right. Hyatt coughed up blood (again)
and said:
"Well, normally I don't take in movies, but this was a special assignment."
"Oh, really?"
"Oh, yes. Our boss was too busy to see it, so he sent us to review it for him."
"Oh, really," Watanabe said, an expression of bewilderment crossing his face.
Excel, still very much asleep, muttered, "And he says I explain things too much..."
"Alright, Nabeshin. What brings you here?" asked the bald man. He was tall, bald, and dressed in
black. A spider tattoo adorned his head. Nabeshin stood by the ticket counter. Posters of current
and past films lined the walls. A distinct smell of artificial butter lingered in the air. The bald man
flicked a grey book, counting up receipts.
"I've not seen you since that trouble in the jungle. Going on several years now."
"Yes," Nabeshin said, looking over the lobby, "Looks like your doing fairly well for yourself."
"I get by."
"Finest kind."
"I suspect," The bald man now said, eyeing Nabeshin with suspicion, "That you are not here for
simple idle chitchat"
"That is so."
"Well?"
Nabeshin straightened his tie, looked up, and coughed slightly.
"Actually," he began, "I need some help with this series I've started..."
A tv screen, on a tiny little handheld. A music video started.
Il Palazo scowled. I could do better then that, he thought.
"Hail, Il Palazo," two voices intoned. He looked up. His agents were back.
"Ahhh.. good. You've returned then."
"Yes sir! And I, your ever faithful servant, Excel of Across, have completed my mission, even
thru the dangers of matinee hour, thru the horrors of triple dating, the hideousness of Gollum.."
"Yes, yes. Excel. And your report?"
"Right here, sir!" She said, hefting a large and exidngly sloppy looking notebook.
Il Palazo looked at it warily.
"That is it," he asked.
"HAI!" Excel shouted.
Il Palazo sweat dropped. What have I got my self into, he asked himself..
Menchi flipped thru tv channels. She was rather bored and depressed, not a good combination.
Eventually, she stopped on a tv commercial showing a dog running thru the kitchen.
The anuacer said: "Puppy Chow! Made of only the best puppies.."
Menchi squealed, and hurriedly flipped the channel, not realizing that the anaucer had said,
"Made FOR only the best puppies.."
Il Palazo stared at the document on his lap. He had only scanned thru two pages, but had found
only three sentences that pertained to the subject at hand. His right cheek twitched. He glanced up
at his two agents.
"Thank you, both. You are dismissed," he said wearily.
"HAI!" They both yelled, before slipping into the shadows, Excel with a look of disapointmenton
her face, Hyatt with a drop of blood on her lips. A thud was heard, Excel cried "Hatchan!" and the
sound of a heavy object moving was heard.
Il Palazo looked back down at the report, twitching. He read the opening line again:
"This movie is about a piece of jewelry that is trying to destroy the world. It belongs to this evil
and bad dressed guy called Sayron, and he's really badly dressed, not like my Il Palazo-sama, not
at all! This ring is dropped into water, which is a dumb place to hide a ring, I mean really...."
Il Palazo's cheek twitched again. She even writes the way she talks, he thought.
As the waning moon rose over the city of F, a load scream was heard echoing thru the darkness.
"Sounds like Il Palazo-sama likes my essay!" Excel said, as she heaved the dead Hyatt into bed.
"Oi, Hatchan, your not gonna be dead long, are ya?"
Todays experiment: Failed.
Part three of the How do you parody a parody?
By P.D. Wright
Disclaimer: Nothing is owned. All is borrowed. No money have I. So to sue is pointless.
Am reloading this due to a error in spellchecking. Thanks all who noticed it.
A black screen. Music starts, miner, low-key. Voices chanting in wordless sounds.
A voice intrudes: "Puchu, puchu puchu, puchu!"
Another voice, loader then the other; A conteralto, very masculine voice: "The world is
changed."
"Puchu, puchu pucho puuchu!"
"I feel it in the air."
"Puuuchu! Puchu puchu puchu puchu!"
"I smell in the water."
"Puchu, puchu puchu puchu!"
"What once was, is now lost.."
"Puchu Puuuuchu!"
"For none now living, remember.."
Lights up. In the secret underground base, Ill Palazo is reclining, sipping spring water and
perusing a large red book.
"Um, Lord Ill Palazo, sir.." comes a small female voice. He glances up, realizing his two agents
are there.
"Yes, Excel, what is it now?" he says, a touch of impatience in his voice.
"Sir.. you've been so wrapped up in that book, you've not sent us on any all important missions,
for nothing is more important than our task to take over the city, and then.."
"Excel, do you have to keep stating our plot every episode? I think they have caught on by now."
"Yes, well, by your leave, sir, I expect other viewers are probably turning up every week or so,
so we need to keep them informed also..."
"Don't you think your being rather overly optermistic, excel?"
A look of total confusion crossed young excel's face at that point. The other agent, Hyatt, leaned
over, said:
"He means, we have been running for several weeks, and by conventional standards, all the
viewers were likely to get we've already got. At least, I think that is what he means." A drop of
blood spilled from her mouth.
"Excellent, Hyatt. I knew you would get it."
"Yeah," Excel cried, "But were not a conventional show, are we? We shouldn't be judged by that
should we?"
"In that case, yes, your right. But then, our viewer ship would be down."
Excel's expression hit the floor, then into the several subbasements below.
"So, Watanabe, what do you wanna do tonight?" asked Iwata to his rather surly roommate,
Watanabe. Watanabe growled back at him. Unperturbed, he turned to his other roommate,
Sumiyoshi.
"What about you, Sumiyoshi?'
'I don't know what do you wanna do, Iwata?"
"I don't know, what about you, Watanabe?"
"I wanna get some new friends," growled Watanabe.
A load "Nooo-o!" sounded thru the secret HQ of Across. Hyatt blinked. Excel blinked. Ill Palazo,
er, blinked. A hand tapped Excel on the shoulder, and she found her self face to face with the
starfield that was Ishi. The Great Will of the Cosmos.
"Sorry about that. Poor Mr. Pedro's having such a bad day, you know." she said.
"Well, that's alright, Ishi," Excel said, "But please, do try to get him to lower the sonics, eh?"
"I'll try to, I will," she said, and vanished.
Meanwhile, at the HQ of the Defense Assurance Agency, the old Doctor Kabapu was gazing at
the window, as red dawn fell to cool blues and deep shadows. His ever smiling and slightly creepy
secretary, Momochi, stood there at the desk. He turned, yelped.
His members had arrived.
"Don't you people ever knock?" He asked. Watanabe scowled.
"Are you kidding," he muttered, looking sideways at Iwata and Sumiyoshi. Iwata was busily
looking at Matsuya, then at adult Roppon Matsu the first with barely disguised lust. Sumiyoshi
was.. well, there. Matsuya and Roppon where ignoring Iwata, and Watanabe was not looking
happy.
Matsuya said, "And what is this new mission you want us to go on?"
The Doctor squirmed, making the assembled uneasy. It was rarely a good sign when he was like
this, and Momochi was little reassurance, as her smile was not of the good kind.
"You said that already," Matsuya said, gazing sideways at the story.
Sorry. I get carried away.
"Better you then us," Watanabe muttered.
ANYWAY!
"Ow! Stop shouting!" the Doctor said.
Look, can we get back to this story, already?
"Already?" Asked Roppon the second, who was here, but was forgotten by your author until
now.
She scowled, "The story of my life."
"Look," Matsuya said, her voice now barely contained, "Can we get to the reason of this
already?"
"Oh, right," the Doctor said, then:
"Um.. I've forgotten now."
And the faces fell.
The Fanfic author P.D. Wright stared across the table at his nemesis. His blue eyes were like
diamonds, his long brown hair tied up in back. His hand was clenched. Sweat was running a
marathon down his face.
His opponent, Excel creator Koshi Rikudo, was staring at him, his glass fogging over. Sweat ran
down his face in rivers.
Between them, a bottle stood. It had been standing there like that for the past thirty minutes. As
had the contestants.
Finally, Rikudo sat back, wiped his brow with the back of his arm, his chin with the back of his
hand.
"Aha!" Said P.D. Wright, "You moved! That means you gotta take a drink."
Rikudo cursed, picked up the bottle, and took a heavy slug, returning it to it's former position.
He glared at the Fanfic author.
"Why are we doing this?" he asked.
"You wanted a duel."
"Yeah, but I meant something like swords.. or race cars... or video games.. hell, even madougu.
Not staring at a bottle of liquor until one of us tips it over, or moves. What kinda game is this?"
"A good game to get sloshed by," Wright smirked.
"Excel, Hyatt" Ill Palazo said.
"Hai!" replied the girls.
"I do actually have a task for you!"
"Yes sir! I will do it to the best of my abilities, and even beyond those, for nothing is beyond us
when we.."
"Yes, yes, Excel. I want you to go and witness this movie." On the screen beyond, a legend
appears.
"The Lord of the Rings..? Isn't that the name of the book you've been reading for the past several
months?"
Ill Palazo's face reddened, but he replied, "Yes it is. I have no time, what with my busy schedule
trying to take over the world, picking movies for Deep 13, and my knitting, I simply have no time
to go see this adaption of the book. That is your assignment, Excel. See this movie, and the
second one, and write a three thousand word essay on what works and what doesn't."
Excel's cute face blanched, she became pale, sweat dropped from her brow.
"Es..essay?"
"Yes. You remember, the kind you had to do in school."
"Oh", she said, then screamed, "Please Ill Palazo-sama, don't make me do an essay! Anything but
that! I'd rather face the soldiers from episode three again then write an essay! Please.."
"Stop whining, Excel. My orders stand. Anyway, I'll let Hyatt help you."
"Oh, thank you, thankyouthankyou.."
Hyatt, standing there until now mostly forgotten, now turned to Ill Palazo, raised her hand and
asked:
"Sir, what kind of movie is this that we are to review?"
"Ahh. Glad you asked. Yes, it is a fantasy film."
"Oh," Excel cried, "like Slayers, right?"
"No, Excel, more like Lodas War."
Excel's cute face fell again. This time it took out Ill Palazo's wine cellar.
"I never could understand that series..." she muttered.
Koshi Rikudo was now severely sloshed. The bottle, formerly between the two on the table, was
held by the creator in a mad binge drink, the kind that spring breaks are made for. The Fanfic
writer P.D. Wright watched him, amused.
"Better take it easy with that stuff, Koshi."
"Shawwaw. I bim drankig sinze before you w're born..."
"Umm, I rather doubt that.."
"Whatta ya mean?"
"Nothing."
"I dunt haf to take this fom you.. you two bit low live author."
"And I don't got to take that from someone who does his own dojinshi."
"I created the thing! I can do damn well what I want with it!"
"And so can I!"
"Now hold on.."
A new voice said, "No, he's right!"
The two looked up, saw the doors burst open, and a crowd of people standing in the frame.
Some American, some Asian, some from other parts of the world. All standing wearing white
shirts with the Excel Saga logo on it.
"Who the hell," said Rikudo, rising, "Are you?"
"We are the Excel Fanfiction Brigade! Dedicated to bringing a moment of insanity to everyday
life."
Rikudo face faulted. Kobayashi Excel appeared.
"Fanwriters one, author naught!"
And she and Hyatt Mikado then proceeded to sing "Ai" at maximum volume.
"And Ziggy played guitar," P.D. Wright muttered.
Excel walked down the street, her head low. She was watching the street itself, a vaguely silly
reference to the fact that she
was down. In feeling. She wasn't feeling good. Oh, hell, you got it by now.
"Essay.. I gotta write a essay.. Ill Palazo-sama ordered me to, so there's no way out.. I hate
essays... I gotta write a essay.. Ill Palazo-sama ordered me to.. Essay.. Essay.."
Suddenly, figure stood in front of Excel. A tall figure, with purple jacket, an Afro.
"Take heart, Excel," the figure said.
"Who's?" she asked.
"Listen. The way to the mountain is long. The way to Morder is fraught with danger. Don't take
up with the creature Gollum, and you'll make it in one piece."
"One piece? I hate that show."
Nabeshin (For it was him) sweat dropped. He straightened his tie, wiped his chin, said:
"Excel, to reach the lands beyond, you must break the egg shell, for if you don't, you will die."
Excel appeared with a long sword, a white outfit.
"And then what... a miracle?"
More sweat dropping from Nabeshin.
"Excel, to win over the shadow dragons, find your strength, like Van and Hitomi, beware the
laughing pyro."
Excel's eyes glistened. She looked at Nabeshin with something akin to gratitude, her hands
clamped below her chin. Her single tooth fell out of her silly grin.
"Thanks, master! I know I can now do this! I can!"
"Um..." Nabeshin started, waving a hand, "the name is Nabeshin.."
"Master! I will write the best, most wonderful essay for Ill Palazo-sama that anyone ever read! I
will do it!"
She took off, at top speed, for the video store.
Nabeshin watched her go, a sweatdrop on his head.
"I wonder if she really understood..."
At the theatre, Hyatt stood by the door, awaiting her partner in crime. Every so often blood fell
from her lips to hit the ground in silent waves, but that was momentarily. She glanced at her
watch.
"I wonder where Senior Excel is? The movie starts in five minutes."
"Ayasugi-san!"
She looked over, at Watanabe standing there, as behind him stood Iwata and Sumiyoshi. Both
dressed as hobbits.
"Oh, Mr Watanabe."
"What brings you here, Ms Ayasugi?"
"I'm here to do a report on a movie for work."
"Oh? I didn't know you where a critic."
"Critic?"
"Don't worry," Iwata interjected, "We wont hold that against you."
"Are you seeing it alone, Ayasugi-san?"
"No, my partner hasn't shown up yet.."
"Oh.. a date, eh?" Watanabe said, his face downcast.
"Oh, here she is now."
"She?" Watanabe said.
A dust cloud approached the theatre. After it subsided, Excel stood, panting in the center.
"Sorry... I'm.. late... Hatchan..."
"It's alright, Excel-sempai. We'd better hurry, though.. it's about to start."
The two girls disappeared into the building. Watanabe, Iwata, and Sumiyoshi stood, stunned.
"I wonder what movie they're seeing.." Watanabe muttered.
The apartment of Excel and Hyatt. In a corner sat a small white dog, whimpering quietly to herself.
She was wondering when her owners would return, and feared that starvation might have gotten
the better of them. She dragged several sheets off of the beds, tied them together, and headed for
the window.
Then, shrank from going down there, as it looked far too steep.
The late evening sky darkened, the tempature dropped, and of late, the movie had let out. Hyatt
was walking with Watanabe, Iwata and Sumiyoshi carried the snoring form of Excel.
"Damn, this girls' heavy," Iwata muttered.
'You said you wanted to pick a girl up at the movies,' Sumiyoshi said.
"That's not funny, Sumiyoshi," he muttered.
"I didn't know you where into fantasy films, Ayasugi-san." Watanabe said, ignoring the complaints
of his roommates. As far as he was concerned, it served 'em right. Hyatt coughed up blood (again)
and said:
"Well, normally I don't take in movies, but this was a special assignment."
"Oh, really?"
"Oh, yes. Our boss was too busy to see it, so he sent us to review it for him."
"Oh, really," Watanabe said, an expression of bewilderment crossing his face.
Excel, still very much asleep, muttered, "And he says I explain things too much..."
"Alright, Nabeshin. What brings you here?" asked the bald man. He was tall, bald, and dressed in
black. A spider tattoo adorned his head. Nabeshin stood by the ticket counter. Posters of current
and past films lined the walls. A distinct smell of artificial butter lingered in the air. The bald man
flicked a grey book, counting up receipts.
"I've not seen you since that trouble in the jungle. Going on several years now."
"Yes," Nabeshin said, looking over the lobby, "Looks like your doing fairly well for yourself."
"I get by."
"Finest kind."
"I suspect," The bald man now said, eyeing Nabeshin with suspicion, "That you are not here for
simple idle chitchat"
"That is so."
"Well?"
Nabeshin straightened his tie, looked up, and coughed slightly.
"Actually," he began, "I need some help with this series I've started..."
A tv screen, on a tiny little handheld. A music video started.
Il Palazo scowled. I could do better then that, he thought.
"Hail, Il Palazo," two voices intoned. He looked up. His agents were back.
"Ahhh.. good. You've returned then."
"Yes sir! And I, your ever faithful servant, Excel of Across, have completed my mission, even
thru the dangers of matinee hour, thru the horrors of triple dating, the hideousness of Gollum.."
"Yes, yes. Excel. And your report?"
"Right here, sir!" She said, hefting a large and exidngly sloppy looking notebook.
Il Palazo looked at it warily.
"That is it," he asked.
"HAI!" Excel shouted.
Il Palazo sweat dropped. What have I got my self into, he asked himself..
Menchi flipped thru tv channels. She was rather bored and depressed, not a good combination.
Eventually, she stopped on a tv commercial showing a dog running thru the kitchen.
The anuacer said: "Puppy Chow! Made of only the best puppies.."
Menchi squealed, and hurriedly flipped the channel, not realizing that the anaucer had said,
"Made FOR only the best puppies.."
Il Palazo stared at the document on his lap. He had only scanned thru two pages, but had found
only three sentences that pertained to the subject at hand. His right cheek twitched. He glanced up
at his two agents.
"Thank you, both. You are dismissed," he said wearily.
"HAI!" They both yelled, before slipping into the shadows, Excel with a look of disapointmenton
her face, Hyatt with a drop of blood on her lips. A thud was heard, Excel cried "Hatchan!" and the
sound of a heavy object moving was heard.
Il Palazo looked back down at the report, twitching. He read the opening line again:
"This movie is about a piece of jewelry that is trying to destroy the world. It belongs to this evil
and bad dressed guy called Sayron, and he's really badly dressed, not like my Il Palazo-sama, not
at all! This ring is dropped into water, which is a dumb place to hide a ring, I mean really...."
Il Palazo's cheek twitched again. She even writes the way she talks, he thought.
As the waning moon rose over the city of F, a load scream was heard echoing thru the darkness.
"Sounds like Il Palazo-sama likes my essay!" Excel said, as she heaved the dead Hyatt into bed.
"Oi, Hatchan, your not gonna be dead long, are ya?"
Todays experiment: Failed.