Dr. Strangelouvre
Cause 8:
--------
He's crying on my shoulder, and his mucus dribbles down the front of his face and globs off in big pools into my shirt. He squeezes me so tight, God, I could swear he's gonna crack a vertebra.
"I didn't mean to Ranma, honest to God, man!"
I can remember a time Ryoga was this close up to me he left me a sobbing mess, now the roles are reversed, but it still sucks to be me. I can feel the tears-n-snot soup he's currently secreting running through the fabric of my shirt onto my shoulder.
"Hug me, Ranma. Embrace me! I need that at least."
Embrace this. My fist clenches up, my hand goes in the air, and then serenity. Tranquility takes me over. Noitaru just stabbed in the back of the shoulder.
"Seratonin point! B.F. Skinner School special attack. How did that make you feel?"
My hand goes limp, drops down and my brain is at ease. The psychiatric approach to problem solving is usually to dope someone up with drugs. In this case Noitaru is using his brain-fucking martial-arts to keep me in a state of lulled bliss, using my own endorphins against me. Cause and effect. My vision has blurred, I'm high as a kite, and no matter how much the logical part of my brain wants to be mad the constant supply of neronal happy-sauce just won't let me.
This all started a week ago. In fact, it's been a long time so I can't help but give the gory details for this most recent week in my history. It all started when I changed the fate of my entire life by not going home. The turn I took, well it brought me face to face with Ryoga.
"We have to talk Ranma."
Like hell we do. This idiot tried to rape my girl half. My next move was going to be to bash the bridge of his nose into his forehead, but something happened that made me stop. A cloth was pushed over my face and some kind of chemical was squeezed out over my mouth. One wiff was like someone poking my brain with wooden dowels through my nose.
Cause and effect. Hit me with ether and I'm out like a light.
Next thing I know I'm coming around mumbling no problem. No problem. It's OK. There is this gigantic grayish blob trying to suck me inside of its body cavity like something out of a microscope slide.
The grayish blob crushes my torso, and I can see yellow and black bits of gunk floating around inside of it. It speaks to me in a mumbled tone, like someone stuck wax then cotton then more wax in my ear.
"Forgive, me Ranma. I don't hate you but I must become a man."
The gray mass sucks me in and crushes my body some more squeezing my ribs and gusts together like an accordion.
No, Mr. Amoeba-thing. Don't eat me.
I blink again and the image gets a little clearer. Upon reflection this is entirely embarrassing. I blink and shake my head. Now everything becomes clear. Ryoga is the microbe trying to suck me in, and Noitaru is at his side, tapping my shoulder, back, face, just about anywhere that he can get my brain to numb itself into submission.
"He's awake, now Ryoga, really let it out."
"Ranma?" He grabs my head, and drags it down so we're looking face to face. His smile goes from ear to ear, with his jagged fangs jutting out like stalagmites of elation and his eyes shrink-wrapped in tears.
All my senses seem to be coming back to me in a Testing, testing one-two-three kind of way. The imaginary blocks in my ears, and over my eyes are completely gone. My conscious mind is ussured back into reality, and into my enemies loving arms. How do you feel?
I feel great.
Joy.
Rapture.
Bliss.
How should I feel?
Rage.
Kill.
Destroy.
Ryoga must die.
The problem with the brain is that it's something physically real. If you poke it in a certain place, or squirt it with some kind of drug you can change everything.
Can't eat tofu?
Poke.
Now you can.
Can't write a poem?
Squirt.
Now you can.
Don't like Ryoga?
Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.
Repeat.
Anyway the whole session went on like that. My-drugged up head couldn't muster enough anger to kick the shit out of the kid, so one might argue that we actually made headway. That was Thursday last. Eventually we all got situated, and I agreed to do this little meeting thing once a day for a little while. That should at least help the poor bastard level his surging emotions enough to keep us from killing each other.
The daily one one-on-ones actually get pretty interesting. We do Alexandrean yoga, and Hibikis hums are like jagged sheet-metal scraped across a blackboard. The last four times this hasn't been much of a bother, since I was too busy feeling the lower half of my body go numb.
We do trust exercises. Standing up we hold hands and lean back as far as we can. If we let go-well I'll just cut to the chase, we always let go. Thump. Cause and effect, flat on our backs. It's called gravity.
Sunday was interesting. Noitaru had us doused and we had to explore the virtues of our respective cursed forms. We sat there, I as the busty bombshell redhead I never wanted to be and Ryoga the pig on a mat in the park staring at each other. This went on for a long time. Joggers would pass by, then they would return, and there we were; chick, pig and shrink all sitting about, staring at one another. It couldn't last forever so I finally said that Ryoga the pig is not as obnoxious as Ryoga the human.
"Very good Ranma." Noitaru said. "Ryoga?"
The little black pig motioned with his front hoof at Noitaru. The shrink complied by laying out an ink well, and a sheet of paper on the ground. The pig dipped his snout into the ink and traced out lines on the paper. When he was all done, Mr. P. dipped his hoof into the ink, and stamped it out on the bottom corner.
Noitaru handed me the paper.
"I'm glad to see you've both made such great headway in this short period of time. We'll meet again here, at the same time."
I stood up smiling, looking at the paper. Teeth clenched tight enough to crunch gravel. I turned and walked away.
"When Ranma is a girl, he is very cute." Then the little black hoof-print.
You'd look cute over diced pineapple, frikker. Anyway, I couldn't worry about that. I had to get over to Kuno's house. YES, I'm still being trained to learn French bread-fuu, and YES, Kodachi is still teaching me. I'm not ready to give up until I do some serious damage to Strangelouvre. That pussy-prodding hack is all mine. What better way for him to be defeated than by the person with the heart of a man, and occasionally the body of a woman? This situation doesn't smell of irony, it bleeds.
Anyway it was Sunday, the same day that I got P-suke's little love letter That I arrive for training and Kodachi leads me into the den, and stands over the phone.
"Well, my dear, someone has to challenge Dr. Strangelouvre, and it might as well be you. Simply call him, and it will be challenge enough. Formal letters are completely useless on the good doctor."
I assumed I should just tell him Ranma Saotome wants a rematch, right?
"Precisely my dear."
So I made the call.
"Dr. Strangelouvre, gynecological clinic, Rei speaking. May I help you?"
I need to speak to Dr. Strangelouvre please.
"May I ask who is calling."
I adjusted my voice. I'm Akane Tendo.
That was by far the worst impression, ever.
"I beg your pardon?"
Right now my biological level is saying: Look at me I'm a girl with testicles, I'm a bad impression, someone stop me.
I muttered well, that is I uh-before Kodachi grabbed the phone out of my hand.
"Kodachi Kuno wishes to speak with him."
She handed the phone back to me.
"Why darling Ranma keeps an annoying girl like you around I'll never understand."
I got ready to snap my fingers. I said if Ranma could be rid of me, he would do it just like, and I snapped, that.
"Another thing he and I have in common."
I go back to the phone. I'm on hold.
Billie Jean is not my lover. She's just a girl who claim-
"Mon amour pour vous brûle comme le soleil au-dessus de la mer.
Mon amour pour vous lames au-dessus et au delà de moi comme des nuages d'orage.
Mon amour pour vous, deviendra-t-ce une tempête pour nous consommer deux?"
What the fuck?
"Who ees thees?"
I'm just calling to tell you that I want a rematch.
"AI Baig youar pardaun Madame, I deu naut fait my paishenns."
Of course not. Ranma Saotome had me call you to tell you he wants a rematch.
"Ze gutlais swien, he couuld naut tawk to moi himesailf?"
Look, If Strangelouvre wants Ranma to call him that can be arranged. However, he thinks this should be sufficient. Will you agree to fight?
"Naut unlaiss it ees made moar eenteresteeng. Eef he vaus to never use martial arts again if he loses, zen I wuuld be veary anxiuus."
And if Ranma wins?
"Zen I weel nevair aggan bozer ze madame Kodachi. He cain haer aal to heemsailf."
My gut clenched. At that moment I realized what this was all about. Oh, God.
Deal, I say. Consider it done.
"In woan week at zee park, neun. Oui?"
Oui. He'll be there
"Nau, eef yule escuse moi, zere is a 37-year oald in coald stiirups I maust attend teau."
My spine shivered and I hung up the phone. How could anyone not want to beat the crap out of this guy? I turned to Kodachi and told her that if Ranma beats him, Strangelouvre will be gone for good.
"Well, you're useful for something dear. What else do you do besides running errands for dearest Ranma?"
I grabbed her by the collar and brought her face right up to mine. I kick ass.
"Really, dear?" Then she laughed. "Well, let's see, shall we?"
I'm a lot better at French bread-fuu than I used to be, now. The essence is in the chi. The battle aura that you produce can be extended into the object you hold. If you can do it right, then the object you hold can be defended by your own aura. It's not extremely effective, so combined with aura projection you have to learn to focus it as well as use different hand motions to attack with studier parts of the bread. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, it works.
For the whole week I busted ass to get the tricks of the trade down, and it's paying off.
Thursday, the day that Ryoga wept a slime-hole into my shirt, Kodachi and I did battle She came at me with a full-thrust, fencer style. I blocked that with a side-swipe from the but of the bread. Still in swordsman mode, the girl swipes at my head. A quick duck, and I try to slam the bread home on her heel, she has to back flip to avoid me.
"Not bad, Red."
I nod.
"Now we need to discuss a problem."
Problem? I shouted, that was a perfect attack.
"No no no, dear. The problem is with Ranma. You tell me he is learning and I just trust you? No. Tomorrow I will not let you into my house, understand? I want to see what Ranma has learned. So only he can come here. Understood?"
I told her that he'd only could come if there are no dirty tricks. No paralysis powder, gymnastic weapons, strikes from brothers, no attacking sharks or alligators. He'll come here, and Kodachi will spar with him just like she sparred with me. Agreed?
"Indubitably, my dear."
So I agreed. It was Thursday then. The next day would change my life.
Oh yeah, Akane.
I haven't spoken much to Akane in the last week. What's there to say? She was a lie to me from the start. What she really is is something I couldn't want any less. But for your sake I'll tell you that every time I went out to meet with Ryoga, then spar with Kodachi she always had some word for me, she waited for me out by the gate each time. Before I left on Thursday she said to me:
"Ranma, I really want to have a talk with you. Allot has changed too fast. So please, when you come home, Just be with me for a little while, and hear me out."
Sounds nice doesn't it? Rewind to Wednesday when she said this:
"Ranma, we should talk."
Rewind to Tuesday:
"Talk to me later, Ranma."
Back to Monday:
"See you later Ranma."
Sunday:
"You leaving?"
Saturday:
"Get lost, Jerk."
Friday:
"You had better have something to say to me, you ass."
Now, let's look all the way back to Thursday, the day on which, just as she promised, she locked the gate, and I had to find someplace else to go.
Authors notes:
OK, no more school, which kept me from writing, but at the same time, I'm pretty sure everyone who once followed the fic is out of the loop on it now. I don't think anybody really cares if this gets written or not, nobody except me, so I guess I better finish it. I love to win a "most bizzare fic" award, so if there are any out there, somebody make sure I get nominated.
The real inspiration for polishing this off was when I went to see "The Matrix: Reloaded" and for a brief moment on screen, before me was an arrogant, French dingus going on about "Cause and effect." All I can say is that it was a thing that made me go Hmmm. 2 seconds later I knew I had to write more Strangelouvre. Whether a coincidence, message from God or indication that the Wachowski bros. like my work (HAHAHAHAHA, right) I knew I had to write more.
Further notes: For the hell of it I added direct quotes from "Fight Club" and "Survivor" Both books are © Chuck Palahniuk, and don't fuck with him, he'll kick your ass.
"Billie Jean" is a Michael Jackson song. I don't know who owns the rights, I don't own them that's for sure. I just used it as an excerpt, please don't sue me. Don't show this to him, or he'll climb up a tree, and sue me while claiming he never saw a plastic surgeon.
Ranma ½ is owned by Rumiko Takahashi. Don't show this to her, or she'll have a heart attack, or try to have me killed or
Cause 8:
--------
He's crying on my shoulder, and his mucus dribbles down the front of his face and globs off in big pools into my shirt. He squeezes me so tight, God, I could swear he's gonna crack a vertebra.
"I didn't mean to Ranma, honest to God, man!"
I can remember a time Ryoga was this close up to me he left me a sobbing mess, now the roles are reversed, but it still sucks to be me. I can feel the tears-n-snot soup he's currently secreting running through the fabric of my shirt onto my shoulder.
"Hug me, Ranma. Embrace me! I need that at least."
Embrace this. My fist clenches up, my hand goes in the air, and then serenity. Tranquility takes me over. Noitaru just stabbed in the back of the shoulder.
"Seratonin point! B.F. Skinner School special attack. How did that make you feel?"
My hand goes limp, drops down and my brain is at ease. The psychiatric approach to problem solving is usually to dope someone up with drugs. In this case Noitaru is using his brain-fucking martial-arts to keep me in a state of lulled bliss, using my own endorphins against me. Cause and effect. My vision has blurred, I'm high as a kite, and no matter how much the logical part of my brain wants to be mad the constant supply of neronal happy-sauce just won't let me.
This all started a week ago. In fact, it's been a long time so I can't help but give the gory details for this most recent week in my history. It all started when I changed the fate of my entire life by not going home. The turn I took, well it brought me face to face with Ryoga.
"We have to talk Ranma."
Like hell we do. This idiot tried to rape my girl half. My next move was going to be to bash the bridge of his nose into his forehead, but something happened that made me stop. A cloth was pushed over my face and some kind of chemical was squeezed out over my mouth. One wiff was like someone poking my brain with wooden dowels through my nose.
Cause and effect. Hit me with ether and I'm out like a light.
Next thing I know I'm coming around mumbling no problem. No problem. It's OK. There is this gigantic grayish blob trying to suck me inside of its body cavity like something out of a microscope slide.
The grayish blob crushes my torso, and I can see yellow and black bits of gunk floating around inside of it. It speaks to me in a mumbled tone, like someone stuck wax then cotton then more wax in my ear.
"Forgive, me Ranma. I don't hate you but I must become a man."
The gray mass sucks me in and crushes my body some more squeezing my ribs and gusts together like an accordion.
No, Mr. Amoeba-thing. Don't eat me.
I blink again and the image gets a little clearer. Upon reflection this is entirely embarrassing. I blink and shake my head. Now everything becomes clear. Ryoga is the microbe trying to suck me in, and Noitaru is at his side, tapping my shoulder, back, face, just about anywhere that he can get my brain to numb itself into submission.
"He's awake, now Ryoga, really let it out."
"Ranma?" He grabs my head, and drags it down so we're looking face to face. His smile goes from ear to ear, with his jagged fangs jutting out like stalagmites of elation and his eyes shrink-wrapped in tears.
All my senses seem to be coming back to me in a Testing, testing one-two-three kind of way. The imaginary blocks in my ears, and over my eyes are completely gone. My conscious mind is ussured back into reality, and into my enemies loving arms. How do you feel?
I feel great.
Joy.
Rapture.
Bliss.
How should I feel?
Rage.
Kill.
Destroy.
Ryoga must die.
The problem with the brain is that it's something physically real. If you poke it in a certain place, or squirt it with some kind of drug you can change everything.
Can't eat tofu?
Poke.
Now you can.
Can't write a poem?
Squirt.
Now you can.
Don't like Ryoga?
Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.
Repeat.
Anyway the whole session went on like that. My-drugged up head couldn't muster enough anger to kick the shit out of the kid, so one might argue that we actually made headway. That was Thursday last. Eventually we all got situated, and I agreed to do this little meeting thing once a day for a little while. That should at least help the poor bastard level his surging emotions enough to keep us from killing each other.
The daily one one-on-ones actually get pretty interesting. We do Alexandrean yoga, and Hibikis hums are like jagged sheet-metal scraped across a blackboard. The last four times this hasn't been much of a bother, since I was too busy feeling the lower half of my body go numb.
We do trust exercises. Standing up we hold hands and lean back as far as we can. If we let go-well I'll just cut to the chase, we always let go. Thump. Cause and effect, flat on our backs. It's called gravity.
Sunday was interesting. Noitaru had us doused and we had to explore the virtues of our respective cursed forms. We sat there, I as the busty bombshell redhead I never wanted to be and Ryoga the pig on a mat in the park staring at each other. This went on for a long time. Joggers would pass by, then they would return, and there we were; chick, pig and shrink all sitting about, staring at one another. It couldn't last forever so I finally said that Ryoga the pig is not as obnoxious as Ryoga the human.
"Very good Ranma." Noitaru said. "Ryoga?"
The little black pig motioned with his front hoof at Noitaru. The shrink complied by laying out an ink well, and a sheet of paper on the ground. The pig dipped his snout into the ink and traced out lines on the paper. When he was all done, Mr. P. dipped his hoof into the ink, and stamped it out on the bottom corner.
Noitaru handed me the paper.
"I'm glad to see you've both made such great headway in this short period of time. We'll meet again here, at the same time."
I stood up smiling, looking at the paper. Teeth clenched tight enough to crunch gravel. I turned and walked away.
"When Ranma is a girl, he is very cute." Then the little black hoof-print.
You'd look cute over diced pineapple, frikker. Anyway, I couldn't worry about that. I had to get over to Kuno's house. YES, I'm still being trained to learn French bread-fuu, and YES, Kodachi is still teaching me. I'm not ready to give up until I do some serious damage to Strangelouvre. That pussy-prodding hack is all mine. What better way for him to be defeated than by the person with the heart of a man, and occasionally the body of a woman? This situation doesn't smell of irony, it bleeds.
Anyway it was Sunday, the same day that I got P-suke's little love letter That I arrive for training and Kodachi leads me into the den, and stands over the phone.
"Well, my dear, someone has to challenge Dr. Strangelouvre, and it might as well be you. Simply call him, and it will be challenge enough. Formal letters are completely useless on the good doctor."
I assumed I should just tell him Ranma Saotome wants a rematch, right?
"Precisely my dear."
So I made the call.
"Dr. Strangelouvre, gynecological clinic, Rei speaking. May I help you?"
I need to speak to Dr. Strangelouvre please.
"May I ask who is calling."
I adjusted my voice. I'm Akane Tendo.
That was by far the worst impression, ever.
"I beg your pardon?"
Right now my biological level is saying: Look at me I'm a girl with testicles, I'm a bad impression, someone stop me.
I muttered well, that is I uh-before Kodachi grabbed the phone out of my hand.
"Kodachi Kuno wishes to speak with him."
She handed the phone back to me.
"Why darling Ranma keeps an annoying girl like you around I'll never understand."
I got ready to snap my fingers. I said if Ranma could be rid of me, he would do it just like, and I snapped, that.
"Another thing he and I have in common."
I go back to the phone. I'm on hold.
Billie Jean is not my lover. She's just a girl who claim-
"Mon amour pour vous brûle comme le soleil au-dessus de la mer.
Mon amour pour vous lames au-dessus et au delà de moi comme des nuages d'orage.
Mon amour pour vous, deviendra-t-ce une tempête pour nous consommer deux?"
What the fuck?
"Who ees thees?"
I'm just calling to tell you that I want a rematch.
"AI Baig youar pardaun Madame, I deu naut fait my paishenns."
Of course not. Ranma Saotome had me call you to tell you he wants a rematch.
"Ze gutlais swien, he couuld naut tawk to moi himesailf?"
Look, If Strangelouvre wants Ranma to call him that can be arranged. However, he thinks this should be sufficient. Will you agree to fight?
"Naut unlaiss it ees made moar eenteresteeng. Eef he vaus to never use martial arts again if he loses, zen I wuuld be veary anxiuus."
And if Ranma wins?
"Zen I weel nevair aggan bozer ze madame Kodachi. He cain haer aal to heemsailf."
My gut clenched. At that moment I realized what this was all about. Oh, God.
Deal, I say. Consider it done.
"In woan week at zee park, neun. Oui?"
Oui. He'll be there
"Nau, eef yule escuse moi, zere is a 37-year oald in coald stiirups I maust attend teau."
My spine shivered and I hung up the phone. How could anyone not want to beat the crap out of this guy? I turned to Kodachi and told her that if Ranma beats him, Strangelouvre will be gone for good.
"Well, you're useful for something dear. What else do you do besides running errands for dearest Ranma?"
I grabbed her by the collar and brought her face right up to mine. I kick ass.
"Really, dear?" Then she laughed. "Well, let's see, shall we?"
I'm a lot better at French bread-fuu than I used to be, now. The essence is in the chi. The battle aura that you produce can be extended into the object you hold. If you can do it right, then the object you hold can be defended by your own aura. It's not extremely effective, so combined with aura projection you have to learn to focus it as well as use different hand motions to attack with studier parts of the bread. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, it works.
For the whole week I busted ass to get the tricks of the trade down, and it's paying off.
Thursday, the day that Ryoga wept a slime-hole into my shirt, Kodachi and I did battle She came at me with a full-thrust, fencer style. I blocked that with a side-swipe from the but of the bread. Still in swordsman mode, the girl swipes at my head. A quick duck, and I try to slam the bread home on her heel, she has to back flip to avoid me.
"Not bad, Red."
I nod.
"Now we need to discuss a problem."
Problem? I shouted, that was a perfect attack.
"No no no, dear. The problem is with Ranma. You tell me he is learning and I just trust you? No. Tomorrow I will not let you into my house, understand? I want to see what Ranma has learned. So only he can come here. Understood?"
I told her that he'd only could come if there are no dirty tricks. No paralysis powder, gymnastic weapons, strikes from brothers, no attacking sharks or alligators. He'll come here, and Kodachi will spar with him just like she sparred with me. Agreed?
"Indubitably, my dear."
So I agreed. It was Thursday then. The next day would change my life.
Oh yeah, Akane.
I haven't spoken much to Akane in the last week. What's there to say? She was a lie to me from the start. What she really is is something I couldn't want any less. But for your sake I'll tell you that every time I went out to meet with Ryoga, then spar with Kodachi she always had some word for me, she waited for me out by the gate each time. Before I left on Thursday she said to me:
"Ranma, I really want to have a talk with you. Allot has changed too fast. So please, when you come home, Just be with me for a little while, and hear me out."
Sounds nice doesn't it? Rewind to Wednesday when she said this:
"Ranma, we should talk."
Rewind to Tuesday:
"Talk to me later, Ranma."
Back to Monday:
"See you later Ranma."
Sunday:
"You leaving?"
Saturday:
"Get lost, Jerk."
Friday:
"You had better have something to say to me, you ass."
Now, let's look all the way back to Thursday, the day on which, just as she promised, she locked the gate, and I had to find someplace else to go.
Authors notes:
OK, no more school, which kept me from writing, but at the same time, I'm pretty sure everyone who once followed the fic is out of the loop on it now. I don't think anybody really cares if this gets written or not, nobody except me, so I guess I better finish it. I love to win a "most bizzare fic" award, so if there are any out there, somebody make sure I get nominated.
The real inspiration for polishing this off was when I went to see "The Matrix: Reloaded" and for a brief moment on screen, before me was an arrogant, French dingus going on about "Cause and effect." All I can say is that it was a thing that made me go Hmmm. 2 seconds later I knew I had to write more Strangelouvre. Whether a coincidence, message from God or indication that the Wachowski bros. like my work (HAHAHAHAHA, right) I knew I had to write more.
Further notes: For the hell of it I added direct quotes from "Fight Club" and "Survivor" Both books are © Chuck Palahniuk, and don't fuck with him, he'll kick your ass.
"Billie Jean" is a Michael Jackson song. I don't know who owns the rights, I don't own them that's for sure. I just used it as an excerpt, please don't sue me. Don't show this to him, or he'll climb up a tree, and sue me while claiming he never saw a plastic surgeon.
Ranma ½ is owned by Rumiko Takahashi. Don't show this to her, or she'll have a heart attack, or try to have me killed or