With a deafening roar, a 747 jetliner lowers into the Haikajima airport. As the front sliding doors open, security calls for need of possible backup. A group of strange looking people has just entered, and they look like they are here to cause trouble. But in reality, they aren't. Well, a little, accidentally. They stop in front an escalator for terminal 521, bound for L.A. They look as though they are waiting for someone. Indeed, this is the case. Five minutes go by. Then five more. Then they realize that they are late. Motoko Aoyama, the lovely swordswoman, speaks up. " I sense something ominous at work here…" Kaolla Su, the ever-energetic foreigner, replies, "Keitaro better bring me back a game console!" Kitsune Konno, the master drunk and horse gambler, tells them to take it down a notch. "I'm as shocked as you are that Keitaro managed to land that study abroad position. Whatcha think, turtle lady?" the turtle lady, a.k.a. Mutsumi Otohime, takes a stand on Keitaros behalf. "Kei-kun isn't as dumb as you really think!" "Although I did offer him my support, I did not really expect him to pass" Motoko says, with a light cough. "That mean you love him now?" Su taunts. "What was that?" Motoko growls. "Nope." Motoko decided that this was a good time to see how far Su's face could stretch. "Oh!" interjects Shinobu Maehara, the Tokyo University prospecter. "Here they come!" Around a corner comes, Keitaro Urashima, Main Character and Main Comic Relief of this story, and Naru Narusegawa, the Beautiful girl with a Beautiful success story. "Sorry guys. That took longer than expected." Keitaro says in apology. With a loud bang, a party ball breaks open, spilling confetti and streamers everywhere. "Whoa, get him, not me!" Naru laughs. "Knew I shoulda kept my camera out! I'm gonna miss you guys." Keitaro says. "Believe me, we're the ones who are gonna do the missing!" Kitsune replies merrily. "Oh, your collars bent. Let me get that for you." Naru says, rather clingingly. "Uhh, thanks." Keitaro replies awkwardly. "Got your passport? Gum? Clean underwear?" Naru lists, making a big fuss. "Being a tad clingy, aren't you, Naru?" Kitsune says, with a mischievous smile on her face. "No way!" Naru replies loudly, turning red. "Better watch it, or he'll shack up with some American chick!" chided Sarah McDougall, the Dork/Keitaro Destroyer. "Oh my. How true!" Mutsumi giggles. Keitaro clears his throat, as though he is going to make a proclamation. Which he does, "I just want to say 'Thank you' for all that you've done for me. And no matter what happens, I promise I'll make you guys proud."
Now To The Present
"The outbound flight headed for L.A. will be departing shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts and quit smoking. Thank you, and enjoy your flight." A P.A. system was blaring nasally. Apparently the flight announcer has a cold. Keitaro leaned back in a semi-but-not-really-comfortable chair, reading a magazine called American Archaeology. Seta was snoring gently in the seat next to him, an earlier edition of the magazine keeping the light out of his eyes. Outside he plane, aircraft mechanics were busy doing a final look over of the plane, making sure all was alright for take off. Since everything was okay, an "all's clear" signal was sent out. The captain received this and informed the passengers that he was starting up the engines. The Boeing 777 started to whine, then scream, then roar. This was it! Despite all of his previous, unwilling flights, Keitaro was a slight bit nervous. Could a pile of metal this size actually fly? Not this time.
. With a gasp and a wheeze that only stressed aircraft engines could make, the plane sputtered and died. All was not clear. Damn, Keitaro thought, another delay. Well, Keitaro will have to deal with the horrors of aircraft later. Now we take a break from Keitaros troubles, to enlighten ourselves with his 5 fellow archaeological trainees. Number 1: Nelson Pirkle. Nelson is a 19-year-old boy from Germany. He was born in the United States and moved to Germany when he was 3. He is both fluent in German and in English. He enjoys eating, sleeping, and gaming. He just happens to be from Russian decent with a non-Russian name. What a background. Next on our list is Sophia Sandalokis, an 18-year-old Greek woman, who want to make her name known around the world. This time the attempt is in Archaeology. She knows English, Greek, and Japanese. She is a really badass tennis player, and she needs to learn to not be so intimidating so that the dudes will like her. Now, it is time to present Cuc Ellestad, an unsuccessful 39-year-old Canadian merchant. His store has just about everything you don't need and nothing you want. Therefore, business is bad. He had to drop out of college in his sophomore year, to help support his younger brothers and sisters. He returned to college and finished his course in archaeology. He just happened to be in Setas class, where he heard about the excavation. Next on our list, it's Yoshihara Herschel. Herschel is of German and Japanese decent, with his first name being a German last name; in a sense, he has received the best of both worlds. Herschel was bullied as a kid, because of his name( he was known as Hershey the Kid). Due to this fact, he started practicing martial arts, such as Boxing, Judo (the art of rolling around and hugging people) as well as the Iron Palm technique (you can break coconuts and stuff with the soft part of your hand) He is a pretty kick-ass sort of person and he has a mighty honor code. If you are in trouble, just ask him or Abel. Speaking of Abel, he is our next excavator. Abel Shmelzle: built like a tank. Kinda looks like one too. Big, massive, hard to move, and he has treads… on his shoes. His guns are illegal in most countries, but beneath this harsh exterior, beats on the heart of a lamb. He would save you from a disaster in a second, but he might accidentally squash you in another instant. He is Australian by birth, but grew up in Oklahoma. And last, but not least, it is Keitaro Urashima, our main character and main stress outlet. He like Naru, women, archaeology, and hot springs. He has no obvious talent, but is fairly good at everything. He actually managed to get into the college of his choice, the Prestigious Tokyo University.
"The schedule for flight 137 has been updated. All is clear. The doors will be closing in twenty minutes, and the boarding platforms will be removed then. Enjoy your day!" the nasal voice asserted loudly. He should really take some medicine for that cold. Finally, the delay was over. Keitaro boarded the plane with Seta and the other trainees, only to find that there had been a collision of food carts and stewardesses. The food this airline provided has been rated as some of the freshest food an airline could possibly provide. As a matter of fact, the olives were so fresh, that they began to start attacking footwear, and the salads were growling at children. Amidst the mass confusion caused by the martini olives, the captain, who is really more of a burden than a pilot, was yelling for people to shut their air holes, and would everyone please get their butts back in their seats. This was going to be a really long flight. Once the steaks had stopped flopping, the salads had returned to their cages, and the olives had stopped biting the ends of shoelaces, the airline decided to risk it, and pass out packets of pre-packaged peanuts. That went smoothly. In the seat next to Keitaro, an old black man by the name of Sudi tried to strike up conversation. This proved to be impossible as to the fact that Keitaro only spoke Japanese, and the man only spoke Swahili. He gave up the communication, and began to focus on trade instead. Keitaro did not understand that Sudi had wanted his small bag of eight, badly salted, burned, over-cooked peanut packet. Apparently, the locals did not commence in active trade. The old man leaned back with a sigh. How disappointing. He had really wanted Keitaros peanuts. But oh well. He would just have to resort to other activities, such as pinching the stewardess, and kicking the seat in front of him. Both of these activities are suggested for you not to do. These temporary enterprises can be quite bad for your health. As Sudi soon found out. With a grumble and a glint, the man in front of Sudi turned around, the plane lights shining rather threateningly off his sunglasses. The light accentuated his scar on his face. "Whas' the big deal mistuh'?" Sudi attempted to explain to him that he had wanted Keitaros peanuts, but he had not understood. Then he ran off a string of incredible yet insane stories that would make even Mr. Rogers patience wane. This then led up to the Yakuza-like man (for the sake of something, lets call him Yaku-san) having to be dragged off the plane before he strangled Sudi. Now, Yaku-san is normally a very patient man, and he could take most things in stride. But today had not been a good day for him. First thing that happened when he entered the airport was that he had been arrested by a security guard, on the grounds of, "He looked at me funny." Then he had been kicked in the shins by a little boy, chased by a Yorkshire terrier, and had single handedly put the moving sidewalk out of commission by mistake. AND he had pissed off the god Loki, just to add a little extra spice.