Spacebar Second Stage: Evang Takes Over
by Jemu Nekketsu
{STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY.}
They say that there are many versions of truth, and thus many versions of reality. But is it truth when what you see, what you hear, what you feel, is just totally unthinkable, seemingly unreal at times? Does art imitate life, or the other way around?
Evang: What the hell is going on in here? Who paid for this heavy, gritty, matrix-like opening spiel from some invisible guy anyway?
BOS: Can a guy wax poetic, or philosophical at times around here?
Evang: You're a computer, BOS. An artificial intelligence. We may refer to you as a guy, you may think of yourself as one of the guys, but let's face it, sentience does not equal sex. Ergo, you're not a guy. How's that for philosophical?
Gai: Did someone just call me?
BOS: Yeah. There's a delivery guy with a package for you outside bulkhead #5. His shuttle has a Gekiganger logo onit, or something.
Gai: Yes! It's finally arrived! My Gekiganger V master grade model! (Hurries out of the Main Lounge, singing.) Gan gan ga gan gan ga gan...
Seconds later, muffled screams and a muted pop could be heard.
Evang: Bulkhead #5 connects directly to the space-walk platform.
BOS: I know.
Evang: Did Gai know?
BOS: Let's just say that guy never knew what hit him.
Evang: Like he'd believe something so sci-fi like internal pressure seeking to equalize the external pressure.
BOS: Yeah.
Evang: You're one sick bastard, BOS.
BOS: I know. And guess what? I feel no remorse. That's what I love about being a machine. You just feel rhythm, no emotion. Just communication.
(Cue in opening music here. It's Yumi Matsuzawa's "You Get To Burning", but the movie is a bunch of old and not so old super robot clips showing the metal monsters executing their final attacks.)
Next scene: All black, except for a spotlight trained to a place on the floor. Footsteps. Evang steps into the lighted patch, his red robes catching the light and reflecting some of it, while being simultaneously highlighted.
Evang: Due to a recent static shock produced by yours truly, BOS will be temporarily off-line as punishment for gross misuse of opening song titles. We hope that you will continue to read on despite the unfortunate absence of our sarcastic neigborhood AI. Thank you, and enjoy. (Takes a bow as the light dims, then totally goes out.)
Next scene: Looks like a courtroom drama set. Crowd, jury, judge, lawyers, the works. It would all be so mundane, save for the fact that everyone in the room was an anime character or a cliche.
Yoneda (AKA Da Judge): Have you reached a verdict?
Gort: Yes we have, Your Honor.
Yoneda: Well? What does the jury say?
Gort: The jury finds the accused, Tenkawa Akito and Ohgami Ichiro --
Fujieda Ayame: Both big, lousy, good for nothing pedophilic perverts!!!
Yoneda: (Pounding his gavel above the laughter of the crowd.) So tell us something we don't know already.
Ayame: Um, spiky hair is a sign of perversion?
More laughter from the crowd. Yoneda sighed. This was going to be one of those days.
Yoneda: Mr. Holy, you were saying?
Gort: We find the defendants, not guilty for the numerous counts of child abuse they were accused of.
Yoneda: The reason being...?
Gort: Said acts occurred in a hentai doujinshi setting. And we all know what that means...
Yoneda: Alright, they're not guilty, case dismissed, blablabla, now get outta here and let me get a drink. (Pulls out a flask from underneath his robes and takes a swig.) Ah! Just what I needed! I think I'll take another one, yes.
Exiting the [kangaroo] courtroom, the former defendants, with their respective lawyers, were met with flashbulbs, microphones, and of course questions.
"Mr. Tenkawa, is it true your wife is planning a divorce despite your being innocent?"
"No comment."
"Mr. Ohgami, how do you think your sister would react upon learning of this event?"
"No comment."
"Question for Mr. Tenkawa. Do you have a fetish for underdeveloped girls and double ponytails?"
"That piece of shit doesn't need to be answered by my client, nor would it be asked by any respectable, credible journalist."
"Mr. Ohgami! Is it true that your being assigned to a newly-formed anti-demon assault squad in Southeast Asia is a result of your superiors' displeasure over this scandal?"
"I think, lady, that you're interviewing the wrong person here. Go talk to my client's superiors and get it from the horses' mouths."
(Whiteout. Clear, then camera shows Main Lounge, its patrons removing some funky VR headsets and gloves.)
Ichiro: So, that's how the 21st century justice system works?
Evang: Not exactly. It's based on a 20th century drama show, were this team of lawyers have to face different issues every week. So how does it feel do be sort of on stage?
Ichiro: How does it feel to sit your ass on a frying pan with live coals beneath it?
Akito: Come on, Gai, you know I couldn't do a thing like that!
Gai: Do I? It just came to me that while we share some things in common, I don't really know you that much. After all, we've just worked together for what, three episodes? (To Yurika.) I feel sorry for you, kancho. Really.
Yurika: Iiiiiiiyaaaaaaaahhh!!! (Starts pounding on Akito with her fists.) AKITO NO HENTAI!!!
Ichiro: Wow, look at her lay it all out on him! Poor Akito.
Evang: That's because she really loves him.
Ichiro: (Wincing as Yurika's knee found a very sensitive target.) Now, that's got to hurt.
Evang: All the more proof that her love is -- hey, why're you getting into your Mk. II?
Ichiro: Call it a premonition. (Seals his Koubu and vents some steam.) Good to go.
Ayame: There he is, girls! Get him!
Teikoku Kagekidan: Death to the voyeur! Kill the pedophile!!
Ichiro: (Running around in his Koubu and dodging attacks left and right.) Hey, cut it out, man! I'm starting to look like a running gag, for crying out loud!
Evang: (Whips out a crystal ball and speaks to it.) What's the punishment here for bad puns?
Jemu: (Speaking from the ball.) Do as you see fit. I'm in academic mode right now, so I won't be appearing for a while.
Evang: Ah, music to my ears.
Jemu: I kinda figured that out. Later. (Signs off.)
Evang: (Noticing that Ichiro is still in the running.) Hah! Time to test my summoning skills again!*
(Closes his eyes.) Targets visualized. Destination set! Third sentence in otherwise useless chant, completed! OPEN GATE!!!!
*The only other time Evang decided to use his summoning spells, well, see a previous SpaceBar episode.*
Ichiro thought he would make it to the door before any of the frustrated females [Nope, they're not frantic. Yet... =)] got in a lucky shot and crippled his unit. So intent he was on escaping, that he failed to notice Akito heading in his direction. The cook, too, was fleeing from an angry mob. Thankfully, none of the mob members had any AK-47s. (But if you've seen how good a certain green-haired tomboy is with her gut punches...)
Ichiro: #@|!^ hell! Look out!!!
Akito: AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
It was sheer luck that no body-mangling collision occurred. Or maybe it was just a simple plot device, meant to be a set-up for a worse one still to come.
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Akito: I'm betting it's the latter one.
Ichiro: Don't tell me, you have a bad feeling about this.
Evang: (Using a cardboard megaphone.) Hello???! Weren't you two in the middle of a chase scene?
Akito: Oh. Right.
Ichiro: No rest for the wicked, eh?
Akito: For crying out loud, man, we were innocent!
Ichiro: When did this episode turn into a "spiky-haired protagonist-bashing episode," huh?
Akito: I think he's just jealous because he hasn't gotten laid.
Evang: (Rising angrily from the director's chair.) THAT'S IT!!!
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A Handy Portal (TM) opened above Akito's and Ichiro's heads, dumping the battle-ready French Hanagumi on them. Ichiro was fortunate enough to be in a Koubu. Akito, however, was not. Still, the impact was enough to stun Ichiro, and with both of them pinned by the French Koubu units, their respective persecutors caught up with them and ripped them to shreds.
***************************************************************************
Akito: That is SO LAME.
Ichiro: Yup.
Akito: I thought episode 14 was supposed to be another "It all starts with a drinking session" episode.
Evang: You want a drinking episode? You'll get one. How does a roomful of vampires sound?
Gai: No, don't do that!
Evang: You're back, I see.
Gai: Don't do the vampire bit! Vampires suck, or don't you know?
Evang: Are you hoping for another quick decompression, Daigouji? (To the others.) So, how about this, no vampires, just lycanthropes?
Ichiro: Do I get a silver-edged saber and a carton of silver pistol rounds?
Evang: No.
Ichiro: I'll pass, then.
Evang: Fine. Get the hell out of here, then! I don't need you.
Akito: Hah! If we're not here, who are you going to make fun of?
Ichiro: You'll be alone! No BOS, no Jemu, you'll be bored brainless!
Evang: I won't. Now either go with my flow, or get out of here.
Ichiro: Hah! Make us, you prick!
Evang: Glad you said that. Makes it so much easier, it does.
Evang extended his hand toward Ichiro, and Ichiro felt as if his very breath was being drawn out of his lungs by an invisible tube. Akito watched in horror as Ichiro fell to his knees, clutching his throat, as a stream of crackling blue energy flowed from Ichiro's mouth to Evang's palm. A few seconds later, the enrgy vanished, and Ichiro collapsed to the floor without a word coming from him throughout the entire ordeal.
Evang: You will respect my authority!
Akito: You and what army? GEKIGAN FLARE!!!
Akito pulled his fist back and prepared to leap, but a hand on his nape delivered 220 volts of electricity to his spine. The cook crumpled to the floor, slightly smoking.
Sada-chan: I hate it when women are taken for granted. You don't mind if I borrowed your power, do you?
Evang: (More to himself.) I have it back, then. The lightning I lent to Ohgami last season. I feel... whole.
Sada-chan: Are you okay? Want me to send these two back for you? You sound, I don't know, weird.
Evang: Everything's normal, then. But go ahead, don't let me spoil your fun.
Sada-chan: (Sighs.) And they say gentlemen are extinct now. (Raises a well, drops the two bodies into it, and makes the well disappear back into the floor.) So what are we going to do now?
Evang: (Heading out of the studio for the Main Lounge.) Like I said earlier, we'll be having a drinking party.
Sada-chan: (Falling into step beside him.) I thought you didn't drink? And you just sent a couple of guys off.
Evang: (Raising an eyevrow.) Don't you believe in magic, my dear?
(Lights go out. Or insert fastfood commercials here.)
NEXT SCENE: Main Lounge. Standard cabaret set: tables, chairs, raised platform for performers, some room for people to dance, and of course, The Bar. It looks like closing time, or perhaps the hour before the first happy hour regulars walk in. The place is almost empty, save for a small clump of humanity assembled at the bar.
Evang: Hi guys.
Assembled people: Hi there.
Evang: I'd like to welcome you to the first-ever Perverts Anonymous meeting. It's a time and place where you air out your worries that you're a sexual deviant, and we assure you that you're just fine or that there are worse people out there. So, come on, don't be shy, we're all friends here. We all know what you're going through. So, you, teenager guy, you go first.
???: Uh, hi. I'm, um, Runaway Kid.
Others: Hi, RK.
RK: I think I'm a deviant. (Looks at Evang, who coaxes him with gestures.) Uh, I like getting screamed at by women I want to get close to. I also have a thing for being attractive to older women, even though I'm scared of them at times. Then, there's this girl I like whom I like because she reminds me of my mother. Please, am I a pervert? Tell me!
Evang: Now, now, kid, take a deep breath. And another. Calm down. How do you feel now?
RK: I don't know.
Evang: Relieved? Like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders?
RK: I guess so.
Evang: See? That's what we're here for. To make you feel better about your insecurities and doubts. Let me be the first to say, "Runaway Kid, you're neither a deviant, a pervert or alone. We're here for you." (Gives him a pat on his shoulder.) (To the others.) Now, we all do the same in turn, give him reassurance and share your own questions about your selves.
Runaway Kid is deluged by a lot of hands patting him on the back, while some ruffled his hair like he was just seven years old. Except...
RK: Uh, is it okay if I receive a pat on the back-
Evang: Sure it is!
RK: From a DEMON CLAW???
Evang: What? (To the offender.) Sir, please, restrain yourself!
???: Oh. Sorry about that. It happens when I get rather emotional.
Evang: As penance, you go next.
???: Hai. (Takes a deep breath.) I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Hell-Teacher, and I think I'm a deviant.
Others: Hi there, Teach.
HT: Well, it's hard for me to say this. I teach elementary children, you see, and teachers have a certain image, a reputation of trustworthiness to maintain, and well... how do I say this...
Evang: It's okay. Use simple words, if you must. Curse, even if you want to.
HT: Hell, let's get this out in the open. I have a sort of split personality. This demonic hand thingy? It's from a sadistic bad-ass demon lord I had to sacrifice my left hand and my mentor's life to take down. See, I was a former exorcist's assistant, but I failed. The demon isn't dead, it's just trapped inside me, and sometimes, in cases when I experience extreme emotion, he takes over. Do you know how that makes me feel? To lose control?
RK: I fight sometimes. Sometimes I fight angry, and afterwards I just break down.
HT: You have it easier. I can't break down. I musn't. If I do, he might break free, and I don't know if I can send him back if he does. What if it happens while I'm teaching my cute, lovable, precocious students?
Evang: I think we're beginning to see the problems here.
???: Yeah, but isn't this supposed to be a perversion-airing session? What's with the psychotherapeutics?
Evang: We're not just here to listen to what gets people off, my friend. We're here to listen to others' problems as well. In this case, he needs some reassurance that he's strong enough to not lose it with his precocious students.
HT: Um, that's not really my perversion. That was just my stress talking a while back.
RK: Oh, so you don't have a thing for your female students.
HT: Well, there's this female high schooler that I'm trying to tutor in using her pyrokinetic abilities.
Others: Ooh.
HT: She needs a target, you see, especially during her period. Otherwise, she incinerates stuff uncontrollably, and when she tries to control it so as not to harm lives or property, she invariably ends up burning all her clothes off in a flash.
Others: Wow. That's... Words fail us.
HT: So I have her vent it all on me. Problem is, I'm rather fire resistant, thanks to my demon prisoner, and she gets pissed off when she sees I'm not burnt, thinking her powers are pathetic. In the end, she just self-combusts. She doesn't get hurt, but then again, she isn't clothed by the time her outburst is over.
Others: Aah. So you have a thing for volatile high school girls, eh? At least she's not your student in the strict sense of the word. I guess that's alright. Just don't get caught. Wow, a pervert with standards!
HT: Of course I have standards! I'm a teacher! At least, I took on the cover of a teacher to protect kids in a high demon incident neighborhood from an event similar to the one where my mentor died in. And, no, I don't go for high school types either!
Evang: Complex you are, it seems. (Produces a bowl of cracker nuts and puts it on the table.) Here.
Everyone gets some of the snacks. Evang motions for HT to continue.
Evang: Your type is...?
HT: I had a thing for bouncy coconut milk once. Dig?
Others: Oh. Bouncy. We dig. Coconut milk? Isn't that exaggerating?
RK: You said "had".
HT: I did, didn't I? Now I go for the slim, delicately-built college girl type. Not too showy, but not model thin either. The kind that would look great in slacks and a sweater or a kimono. Especially with a pure look, kinda like new mountain snow.
Evang: Oho! Pure-looking ones, eh? And I suppose you'd want to play the role of gallant protector? Or maybe cold-hearted defiler?
HT: Try both.
Others: OOOOOOHHH! AAAAAAAHHH! Sou desu ne.
Evang: I mean, such an elaborate scheme as wanting to be both defiler and defender of innocence at the same time... kinky, but not really perverted, if you think about it.
???: It's like protecting your own interests from outsiders. And if that isn't a good thing, what isn't?
Nube: And you are?
???: Hmph. Call me Dark Glasses. I do not consider myself a pervert, but then again, normalcy is a value judgement based on an observer's perception, is it not?
RK: (Whimper.)
Evang: (Passing the cracker nuts around again.) So, Mr. Glasses, what is normal for you? Sexually speaking, of course.
Dark Glasses placed both of his elbows on the bartop. He meshed the fingers of both hands together, and leaned forward a little, hiding his lips from view. The weak illumination from the bulbs overhead lit his tinted lenses in a sinister manner.
DG: My preferences are quite simple, really. I like to sleep around with females whom I wish to do so, regardless of age or consequences. If I have authority over them, so much the better for me. It's a bonus for me if they somehow manage to resemble my late wife.
RK: Even if she's just a fifteen-year old precocious albino.
DG: Yes. Even so. How well you know me, boy.
HT: How do you know this, Kid?
DG: How? He knows me that well because... (Takes a deep breath and lets it out, which sounds like air being forced through a breathing mask.) I AM... HIS FATHER.
RK: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Evang: Looks like we opened up a real can of worms here, people. Should we continue, or stop? It's up to you, now. But first, is Dark Glasses a deviant, or not?
???: Dark Glasses is not a deviant. It's typically male to be attracted to a certain type.
HT: I second that.
???: So he's a dominating personality. Probably likes to be on top of everything, even in bed. Is that a sin? I don't think so. Not a deviant.
Others: Yeah, that's right. Rather normal, I guess. Let's just go on to the next guy and move on.
Evang: The council has spoken. (Produces a super-large, clear mug, filled with beer.) Everyone know what this is?
Others: Of course! That's beer, isn't it? What do you take us for?
Evang: Good. Now, is anyone feeling thirsty here? No? You guys sure are tough. Those dehydrating cracker nuts should be kicking in right about... now.
???: Me! Need drink, now! (Reaching for the mug.)
Evang: (Moving the mug out of range.) We shall hear your story next, then.
Others: Huh?! What's this about? What's this for, we came here voluntarily to tell our tales!
Evang: Call it insurance. Now, do I have your agreement?
???: Yes! Now give it to me!
Evang handed over the mug, and its contents were reduced to half by the thirsty poor fool. The mug was handed back, and once in Evang's hands, it became full again. Everyone murmured in surprise and amazement.
Evang: Now then. Your name, sir?
???: You can call me Super Soldier.
Others: Hi there, SS.
Evang: Go on. Tell us your dirty secrets, the stuff you'd rather not let the whole world see or know.
SS: Well, I like to play savior and champion of the underdog. I get a kick out of rescuing helpless young misses and stealing a squeeze, or accepting a tight hug, which I consider my just rewards for what I just did.
HT: Sounds like my fetish.
SS: Unlike Hell-Teacher, however, I prefer to go for the high school girl type. There's just something about the combination of white blouses and short skirts that gets me going. Heck, I think it's the short skirts. They either billow up with the wind to show some thigh, or they're the tight ones that show off a nice ass.
DG: So you're a sucker for girls in uniform.
SS: You could say that, Commander.
DG: Commander...?
SS: You have the look of one. I should know, I grew up during the period of a war for separation from a restrictive, overprotective government.
RK: Any other reason why you go for the high school type?
SS: Well, I never really got to study. Really study, I mean like books and flag ceremonies and lunch period and all. By the time the war was over, well... (Shrugs.)
Evang offers him the mug again, and this time Super Soldier shakes his head.
Evang: Right then. Who's next? (Someone reaches for the mug.) Oh, good, the next victim. Here you go.
???: (Drinking his fill.) Ah. Can't say I agree with the taste of beer, but that's secondary to wetting my throat. Ah. Hi, I'm Denial King.
Others: Hi there, Denial King.
DK: I don't know if I'm a pervert or not. I just like to play games with women, you know, keep those who desperately want to sleep with me hanging along, pretending I don't give a fuck about them, when in fact, that's what I really want to do. Give them a fuck, that is.
HT: We don't have a pervert here, people, we have a sicko.
SS: But not a deviant in the sexual sense of the word.
DK: Gee, thanks for that much. So you wanna here my story or do I get the verdict now?
Evang: Hell-Teacher, Super Soldier, you should have let him finish.
RK: Besides, we haven't even heard his type.
DK: My type is simple. I like the ditzy types with big hooters and long hair. You know, your stereotypical dumb bimbo? Make an impression on them once, they won't forget abut you for the next five years or more. I used to have a yen for blue-haired women who could cook gourmet, 'cause I'm something of a culinary genius myself, but I found out the hard way that they take the old saw "The way to a man's heart - and other vital systems - is through his stomach" a little too seriously.
DG: A misogynist who likes bimbos with good long-term memory. Interesting.
DK: A father who likes to "play " with his son's girlfriends because they remind him of his dead wife. Not exactly award-winning material, but maybe worth a manga and a TV series.
Dark Glasses and Denial King glared at each other. Neither one was willing to back down.
Evang: (To himself.) So much for support and reassurance. But what the hell. (Notices something.) So, mister, need a drink? Here.
???: (Gulping down the contents of the mug in just one go.) Can I have a refill? Maybe two, if it's not too much trouble?
Evang: No problem.
Everyone else in the bar watched as the spiky-haired man downed three double-sized beer mugs in succession without a pause. Some of the patrons beagn to clap their hands.
Evang: Judging form that display of machismo, I gather you're from the Navy.
???: Betcha that. (Burps.) Ah. I'm Periscope Guy. Nice to meet y'all.
Others: Hey. Yo! Ditto.
RK: Where'd you get such a strange name?
SS: You with a submarine crew?
PG: Who me? Nah. Weird shit of the matter is, I was Navy but I got transferred to lead some Imperial Flower Assault Squad or somesuch.
RK: Huh?!
PG: Right you are, Kid. Huh?! That was my first reaction too. Along with "Man, they're going to send me to lead some queers into battle." That was the scariest moment of my life, I'm telling you.
DK: Still doesn't tell us how you got the name Periscope Guy, though.
PG: Are you sure you're a cook? Aren't cooks supposed to have patience? I mean, I knew some galley guys who could outwait a saint or the devil himself. Now, where was I?
SS: Imperial Florists?
PG: Right. So, imagine my surprise when I met my squad and they were some of the best-looking pieces of ass taken from all over Japan, and we even had a half-Russian blonde and a petite French real-life Goldilocks.
HT: It wasn't the hell you imagined it to be, I take it?
PG: Hell no! Those are just the front-liners, which included me, who'll go out and do the hacking and shooting. The logistics and command unit, well, those were four different babies entirely, if you get my drift. Excuse the navy pun.
DG: Hmmm...
RK: Don't get any ideas, Father.
DG: (In pretend pain.) Oh, you wound me, son.
PG: Then, the next year, we had some new recruits from the Continent, a half-Italian half-Japanese girl and a boyish-looking German one. Lordy, that one made me go nuts when I found out.
DK: We still have to hear the reason for your being called Periscope Guy.
PG: And so here it is. Pop quiz: what's a persicope for?
SS: It's used by submarine captains to activity above water.
PG: Good answer. Now, I said something about discovering the truth about that boyish-looking German kid, right? How do you think I found out?
HT: Let me guess. You looked in on her while she was taking a bath, didn't you?
PG: Not just her, but the rest of my squad as well!
SS: The other women looked as well?
PG: Yeah! I mean, NO! They don't bend that way, I think. I meant that I peeked in on all of them while they were bathing, combat and command personnel alike!
DK: Every single one of them?
PG: Even the underaged French and German girlies.
Evang: Whoa.
Others: Incredible. The gall. The audacity.
PG: That's not all. A few months ago, I got shipped to Paris to do the "lead luscious female soldiers into battle" routine again, and they have a genuine Japanese noble's daughter in the squad as an import or something to that extent. Felt just like home, Paris did. And guess what the cover for our base their was.
HT: What?
PG: A cabaret! I'm serious! Looks sort of like this place, except classier-
Evang: HEY!!!
PG: -And my squadmates had to perform some outlandish routines every night! Know what can-can is?
DG: That's a performance where the women wear these skirts and kick up as high as they can to show their thighs and underwear, right?
RK: (Looks at his dad strangely and sidles away, whimpering.)
PG: Yeah. It's a European thing. Ever thought of a couple of noblemen's daughters performing it? With a jailbird serving a 100-year lockup sentence, a barely pubescent French-Indochinese brunette, and a ditzy former nun-in-training?
Others: We're thinking, we're thinking! Oh, yeah! That's it, baby!
Evang: Hey you, yeah, I'm talking to you, the one with the Koushiryoku Laboratory T-shirt. What's your story?
???: Can I have a beer first?
Evang: No, you're underage. No beer.
???: Gimme or I won't tell!
Evang: Oh, alright. (Hands over the mug to the last patron.)
???: (Takes a sip and spews it out, drenching the bartop.) Bleah! Why the hell do people drink this crap anyway?
Evang: Your name and tale, please. (To the others.) Alright, you perverts, let's listen to one last story before heading out.
???: Hi, my name is Ageless Kid, AK for short.
RK: Ageless?
AK: You know, they bring me out in the late 70's and then in the 90's but I only look like ten years older or so?
DG: I'd like to know your secret to staying young.
AK: No secret. It's called target market research.
Evang: Go on.
AK: Anyway, in my latest incarnation, I have a thing for attracting older women's attentions. Specifically, there are these twin blonde bombshells with Ph. D.'s - no joke, really! - working with my father, assisting in his research.
RK: My dad has a blonde scientist aiding him in his research. I think she's a peroxide blonde, though.
DG: Shut up, boy!
AK: Not too make myself bigger than my mecha, but during a beach outing, both of them wore the skimpiest bathing wear on the whole planet and tried to get me to rub suntan lotion and sunscreen on them.
HT: Beach outings are good. Very, very good. You see a lot of vitamin A in beach outings.
AK: Vitamin A?
HT: Things that are good for the eye.
AK: I see. Well, during that same episode, I managed to pull off my "best friend's" bikini top in a fight.
Others: Aaah.
DK: Why does 'best friend' have double quotation marks?
AK: Actually, she's supposed to be my love interest, but I keep insisting that we're nothing of the sort. Even when two of my buddies catches me in bed with her and her arms are wrapped around me. You might say (Casting a sly look in Denial King's direction.) that I'm denying the obvious.
DK: Why you-! GEKIGAN FLARE!!!
Denial King knocks Ageless Kid to the floor with his attack. Eager to seize the opening, Denial King drops his guard, which he dearly pays for.
AK: ROKETTO PANCHI!!!
Evang began to take bets on the outcome of the fight.
Evang: Ah, some booze, some gas, a lot of poking fun at, some dark humor, and a fistfight to top it all off. Yep, this is my kind of episode. I better think hard on how to top this one next time.
The double doors swing open, and the combatants look up. The newcomer is silhouetted against the doorway, and the occupants of the bar watch as he takes off his helmet and walks toward the bartender.
Kazuya: Kabuto-kun, why are you trying to kill Tenkawa?
Kouji: He started it!
Akito: Yeah, that's real mature of you, Kabuto. Just proves to show how much you've changed in ten years.
Ichiro: Unlike you, who changed a lot in a mere five.
Akito: At least I got some while I could. What about you? You slept with anyone of your flower-girls yet?
Gendo: Probably hasn't. He's mentioned a lot of women, but none of his conquests. He hasn't even told us what his type is.
Ichiro: How about Kabuto? He hasn't-
Shinji: He's just changing the subject, isn't he, Dad?
Gendo: Probably. Maybe he's gay, and all he said is just an elaborate lie to hide his secret.
Ichiro: Why you two!!! ( A katana and a wakizashi appear in his hands.) Shippu Jinrai!!!
Ichiro runs around trying to cut the Ikaris into ribbons. Using the distraction, Akito lands a blow to Kouji's genitals, causing the latter to howl in agony. Sousuke wisely ducks for cover behind the bar.
Kazuya: That's it! I've had a tough day dealing with that idiot brother-in-law of mine, and I need to unwind! If you won't let me drink in quiet to relieve my stress, I'll just use you to relieve it! Hissatsu!!!
(Insert standard rapid strike scene here. You know, fade to black, flashes indicating hits, lots of bodies on the floor when the screen goes normal again.)
Kazuya: (Panting.) Finally! Some quiet! Can I have a beer now?
Evang: (Hands him the mug, smiling evilly.) Want some cracker nuts to go with that?
Kazuya: Sure. (Pops a handful of nuts in his mouth and crunching.) Mmmm. Tasty.
EOF
by Jemu Nekketsu
{STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY.}
They say that there are many versions of truth, and thus many versions of reality. But is it truth when what you see, what you hear, what you feel, is just totally unthinkable, seemingly unreal at times? Does art imitate life, or the other way around?
Evang: What the hell is going on in here? Who paid for this heavy, gritty, matrix-like opening spiel from some invisible guy anyway?
BOS: Can a guy wax poetic, or philosophical at times around here?
Evang: You're a computer, BOS. An artificial intelligence. We may refer to you as a guy, you may think of yourself as one of the guys, but let's face it, sentience does not equal sex. Ergo, you're not a guy. How's that for philosophical?
Gai: Did someone just call me?
BOS: Yeah. There's a delivery guy with a package for you outside bulkhead #5. His shuttle has a Gekiganger logo onit, or something.
Gai: Yes! It's finally arrived! My Gekiganger V master grade model! (Hurries out of the Main Lounge, singing.) Gan gan ga gan gan ga gan...
Seconds later, muffled screams and a muted pop could be heard.
Evang: Bulkhead #5 connects directly to the space-walk platform.
BOS: I know.
Evang: Did Gai know?
BOS: Let's just say that guy never knew what hit him.
Evang: Like he'd believe something so sci-fi like internal pressure seeking to equalize the external pressure.
BOS: Yeah.
Evang: You're one sick bastard, BOS.
BOS: I know. And guess what? I feel no remorse. That's what I love about being a machine. You just feel rhythm, no emotion. Just communication.
(Cue in opening music here. It's Yumi Matsuzawa's "You Get To Burning", but the movie is a bunch of old and not so old super robot clips showing the metal monsters executing their final attacks.)
Next scene: All black, except for a spotlight trained to a place on the floor. Footsteps. Evang steps into the lighted patch, his red robes catching the light and reflecting some of it, while being simultaneously highlighted.
Evang: Due to a recent static shock produced by yours truly, BOS will be temporarily off-line as punishment for gross misuse of opening song titles. We hope that you will continue to read on despite the unfortunate absence of our sarcastic neigborhood AI. Thank you, and enjoy. (Takes a bow as the light dims, then totally goes out.)
Next scene: Looks like a courtroom drama set. Crowd, jury, judge, lawyers, the works. It would all be so mundane, save for the fact that everyone in the room was an anime character or a cliche.
Yoneda (AKA Da Judge): Have you reached a verdict?
Gort: Yes we have, Your Honor.
Yoneda: Well? What does the jury say?
Gort: The jury finds the accused, Tenkawa Akito and Ohgami Ichiro --
Fujieda Ayame: Both big, lousy, good for nothing pedophilic perverts!!!
Yoneda: (Pounding his gavel above the laughter of the crowd.) So tell us something we don't know already.
Ayame: Um, spiky hair is a sign of perversion?
More laughter from the crowd. Yoneda sighed. This was going to be one of those days.
Yoneda: Mr. Holy, you were saying?
Gort: We find the defendants, not guilty for the numerous counts of child abuse they were accused of.
Yoneda: The reason being...?
Gort: Said acts occurred in a hentai doujinshi setting. And we all know what that means...
Yoneda: Alright, they're not guilty, case dismissed, blablabla, now get outta here and let me get a drink. (Pulls out a flask from underneath his robes and takes a swig.) Ah! Just what I needed! I think I'll take another one, yes.
Exiting the [kangaroo] courtroom, the former defendants, with their respective lawyers, were met with flashbulbs, microphones, and of course questions.
"Mr. Tenkawa, is it true your wife is planning a divorce despite your being innocent?"
"No comment."
"Mr. Ohgami, how do you think your sister would react upon learning of this event?"
"No comment."
"Question for Mr. Tenkawa. Do you have a fetish for underdeveloped girls and double ponytails?"
"That piece of shit doesn't need to be answered by my client, nor would it be asked by any respectable, credible journalist."
"Mr. Ohgami! Is it true that your being assigned to a newly-formed anti-demon assault squad in Southeast Asia is a result of your superiors' displeasure over this scandal?"
"I think, lady, that you're interviewing the wrong person here. Go talk to my client's superiors and get it from the horses' mouths."
(Whiteout. Clear, then camera shows Main Lounge, its patrons removing some funky VR headsets and gloves.)
Ichiro: So, that's how the 21st century justice system works?
Evang: Not exactly. It's based on a 20th century drama show, were this team of lawyers have to face different issues every week. So how does it feel do be sort of on stage?
Ichiro: How does it feel to sit your ass on a frying pan with live coals beneath it?
Akito: Come on, Gai, you know I couldn't do a thing like that!
Gai: Do I? It just came to me that while we share some things in common, I don't really know you that much. After all, we've just worked together for what, three episodes? (To Yurika.) I feel sorry for you, kancho. Really.
Yurika: Iiiiiiiyaaaaaaaahhh!!! (Starts pounding on Akito with her fists.) AKITO NO HENTAI!!!
Ichiro: Wow, look at her lay it all out on him! Poor Akito.
Evang: That's because she really loves him.
Ichiro: (Wincing as Yurika's knee found a very sensitive target.) Now, that's got to hurt.
Evang: All the more proof that her love is -- hey, why're you getting into your Mk. II?
Ichiro: Call it a premonition. (Seals his Koubu and vents some steam.) Good to go.
Ayame: There he is, girls! Get him!
Teikoku Kagekidan: Death to the voyeur! Kill the pedophile!!
Ichiro: (Running around in his Koubu and dodging attacks left and right.) Hey, cut it out, man! I'm starting to look like a running gag, for crying out loud!
Evang: (Whips out a crystal ball and speaks to it.) What's the punishment here for bad puns?
Jemu: (Speaking from the ball.) Do as you see fit. I'm in academic mode right now, so I won't be appearing for a while.
Evang: Ah, music to my ears.
Jemu: I kinda figured that out. Later. (Signs off.)
Evang: (Noticing that Ichiro is still in the running.) Hah! Time to test my summoning skills again!*
(Closes his eyes.) Targets visualized. Destination set! Third sentence in otherwise useless chant, completed! OPEN GATE!!!!
*The only other time Evang decided to use his summoning spells, well, see a previous SpaceBar episode.*
Ichiro thought he would make it to the door before any of the frustrated females [Nope, they're not frantic. Yet... =)] got in a lucky shot and crippled his unit. So intent he was on escaping, that he failed to notice Akito heading in his direction. The cook, too, was fleeing from an angry mob. Thankfully, none of the mob members had any AK-47s. (But if you've seen how good a certain green-haired tomboy is with her gut punches...)
Ichiro: #@|!^ hell! Look out!!!
Akito: AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
It was sheer luck that no body-mangling collision occurred. Or maybe it was just a simple plot device, meant to be a set-up for a worse one still to come.
***************************************************************************
Akito: I'm betting it's the latter one.
Ichiro: Don't tell me, you have a bad feeling about this.
Evang: (Using a cardboard megaphone.) Hello???! Weren't you two in the middle of a chase scene?
Akito: Oh. Right.
Ichiro: No rest for the wicked, eh?
Akito: For crying out loud, man, we were innocent!
Ichiro: When did this episode turn into a "spiky-haired protagonist-bashing episode," huh?
Akito: I think he's just jealous because he hasn't gotten laid.
Evang: (Rising angrily from the director's chair.) THAT'S IT!!!
***************************************************************************
A Handy Portal (TM) opened above Akito's and Ichiro's heads, dumping the battle-ready French Hanagumi on them. Ichiro was fortunate enough to be in a Koubu. Akito, however, was not. Still, the impact was enough to stun Ichiro, and with both of them pinned by the French Koubu units, their respective persecutors caught up with them and ripped them to shreds.
***************************************************************************
Akito: That is SO LAME.
Ichiro: Yup.
Akito: I thought episode 14 was supposed to be another "It all starts with a drinking session" episode.
Evang: You want a drinking episode? You'll get one. How does a roomful of vampires sound?
Gai: No, don't do that!
Evang: You're back, I see.
Gai: Don't do the vampire bit! Vampires suck, or don't you know?
Evang: Are you hoping for another quick decompression, Daigouji? (To the others.) So, how about this, no vampires, just lycanthropes?
Ichiro: Do I get a silver-edged saber and a carton of silver pistol rounds?
Evang: No.
Ichiro: I'll pass, then.
Evang: Fine. Get the hell out of here, then! I don't need you.
Akito: Hah! If we're not here, who are you going to make fun of?
Ichiro: You'll be alone! No BOS, no Jemu, you'll be bored brainless!
Evang: I won't. Now either go with my flow, or get out of here.
Ichiro: Hah! Make us, you prick!
Evang: Glad you said that. Makes it so much easier, it does.
Evang extended his hand toward Ichiro, and Ichiro felt as if his very breath was being drawn out of his lungs by an invisible tube. Akito watched in horror as Ichiro fell to his knees, clutching his throat, as a stream of crackling blue energy flowed from Ichiro's mouth to Evang's palm. A few seconds later, the enrgy vanished, and Ichiro collapsed to the floor without a word coming from him throughout the entire ordeal.
Evang: You will respect my authority!
Akito: You and what army? GEKIGAN FLARE!!!
Akito pulled his fist back and prepared to leap, but a hand on his nape delivered 220 volts of electricity to his spine. The cook crumpled to the floor, slightly smoking.
Sada-chan: I hate it when women are taken for granted. You don't mind if I borrowed your power, do you?
Evang: (More to himself.) I have it back, then. The lightning I lent to Ohgami last season. I feel... whole.
Sada-chan: Are you okay? Want me to send these two back for you? You sound, I don't know, weird.
Evang: Everything's normal, then. But go ahead, don't let me spoil your fun.
Sada-chan: (Sighs.) And they say gentlemen are extinct now. (Raises a well, drops the two bodies into it, and makes the well disappear back into the floor.) So what are we going to do now?
Evang: (Heading out of the studio for the Main Lounge.) Like I said earlier, we'll be having a drinking party.
Sada-chan: (Falling into step beside him.) I thought you didn't drink? And you just sent a couple of guys off.
Evang: (Raising an eyevrow.) Don't you believe in magic, my dear?
(Lights go out. Or insert fastfood commercials here.)
NEXT SCENE: Main Lounge. Standard cabaret set: tables, chairs, raised platform for performers, some room for people to dance, and of course, The Bar. It looks like closing time, or perhaps the hour before the first happy hour regulars walk in. The place is almost empty, save for a small clump of humanity assembled at the bar.
Evang: Hi guys.
Assembled people: Hi there.
Evang: I'd like to welcome you to the first-ever Perverts Anonymous meeting. It's a time and place where you air out your worries that you're a sexual deviant, and we assure you that you're just fine or that there are worse people out there. So, come on, don't be shy, we're all friends here. We all know what you're going through. So, you, teenager guy, you go first.
???: Uh, hi. I'm, um, Runaway Kid.
Others: Hi, RK.
RK: I think I'm a deviant. (Looks at Evang, who coaxes him with gestures.) Uh, I like getting screamed at by women I want to get close to. I also have a thing for being attractive to older women, even though I'm scared of them at times. Then, there's this girl I like whom I like because she reminds me of my mother. Please, am I a pervert? Tell me!
Evang: Now, now, kid, take a deep breath. And another. Calm down. How do you feel now?
RK: I don't know.
Evang: Relieved? Like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders?
RK: I guess so.
Evang: See? That's what we're here for. To make you feel better about your insecurities and doubts. Let me be the first to say, "Runaway Kid, you're neither a deviant, a pervert or alone. We're here for you." (Gives him a pat on his shoulder.) (To the others.) Now, we all do the same in turn, give him reassurance and share your own questions about your selves.
Runaway Kid is deluged by a lot of hands patting him on the back, while some ruffled his hair like he was just seven years old. Except...
RK: Uh, is it okay if I receive a pat on the back-
Evang: Sure it is!
RK: From a DEMON CLAW???
Evang: What? (To the offender.) Sir, please, restrain yourself!
???: Oh. Sorry about that. It happens when I get rather emotional.
Evang: As penance, you go next.
???: Hai. (Takes a deep breath.) I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Hell-Teacher, and I think I'm a deviant.
Others: Hi there, Teach.
HT: Well, it's hard for me to say this. I teach elementary children, you see, and teachers have a certain image, a reputation of trustworthiness to maintain, and well... how do I say this...
Evang: It's okay. Use simple words, if you must. Curse, even if you want to.
HT: Hell, let's get this out in the open. I have a sort of split personality. This demonic hand thingy? It's from a sadistic bad-ass demon lord I had to sacrifice my left hand and my mentor's life to take down. See, I was a former exorcist's assistant, but I failed. The demon isn't dead, it's just trapped inside me, and sometimes, in cases when I experience extreme emotion, he takes over. Do you know how that makes me feel? To lose control?
RK: I fight sometimes. Sometimes I fight angry, and afterwards I just break down.
HT: You have it easier. I can't break down. I musn't. If I do, he might break free, and I don't know if I can send him back if he does. What if it happens while I'm teaching my cute, lovable, precocious students?
Evang: I think we're beginning to see the problems here.
???: Yeah, but isn't this supposed to be a perversion-airing session? What's with the psychotherapeutics?
Evang: We're not just here to listen to what gets people off, my friend. We're here to listen to others' problems as well. In this case, he needs some reassurance that he's strong enough to not lose it with his precocious students.
HT: Um, that's not really my perversion. That was just my stress talking a while back.
RK: Oh, so you don't have a thing for your female students.
HT: Well, there's this female high schooler that I'm trying to tutor in using her pyrokinetic abilities.
Others: Ooh.
HT: She needs a target, you see, especially during her period. Otherwise, she incinerates stuff uncontrollably, and when she tries to control it so as not to harm lives or property, she invariably ends up burning all her clothes off in a flash.
Others: Wow. That's... Words fail us.
HT: So I have her vent it all on me. Problem is, I'm rather fire resistant, thanks to my demon prisoner, and she gets pissed off when she sees I'm not burnt, thinking her powers are pathetic. In the end, she just self-combusts. She doesn't get hurt, but then again, she isn't clothed by the time her outburst is over.
Others: Aah. So you have a thing for volatile high school girls, eh? At least she's not your student in the strict sense of the word. I guess that's alright. Just don't get caught. Wow, a pervert with standards!
HT: Of course I have standards! I'm a teacher! At least, I took on the cover of a teacher to protect kids in a high demon incident neighborhood from an event similar to the one where my mentor died in. And, no, I don't go for high school types either!
Evang: Complex you are, it seems. (Produces a bowl of cracker nuts and puts it on the table.) Here.
Everyone gets some of the snacks. Evang motions for HT to continue.
Evang: Your type is...?
HT: I had a thing for bouncy coconut milk once. Dig?
Others: Oh. Bouncy. We dig. Coconut milk? Isn't that exaggerating?
RK: You said "had".
HT: I did, didn't I? Now I go for the slim, delicately-built college girl type. Not too showy, but not model thin either. The kind that would look great in slacks and a sweater or a kimono. Especially with a pure look, kinda like new mountain snow.
Evang: Oho! Pure-looking ones, eh? And I suppose you'd want to play the role of gallant protector? Or maybe cold-hearted defiler?
HT: Try both.
Others: OOOOOOHHH! AAAAAAAHHH! Sou desu ne.
Evang: I mean, such an elaborate scheme as wanting to be both defiler and defender of innocence at the same time... kinky, but not really perverted, if you think about it.
???: It's like protecting your own interests from outsiders. And if that isn't a good thing, what isn't?
Nube: And you are?
???: Hmph. Call me Dark Glasses. I do not consider myself a pervert, but then again, normalcy is a value judgement based on an observer's perception, is it not?
RK: (Whimper.)
Evang: (Passing the cracker nuts around again.) So, Mr. Glasses, what is normal for you? Sexually speaking, of course.
Dark Glasses placed both of his elbows on the bartop. He meshed the fingers of both hands together, and leaned forward a little, hiding his lips from view. The weak illumination from the bulbs overhead lit his tinted lenses in a sinister manner.
DG: My preferences are quite simple, really. I like to sleep around with females whom I wish to do so, regardless of age or consequences. If I have authority over them, so much the better for me. It's a bonus for me if they somehow manage to resemble my late wife.
RK: Even if she's just a fifteen-year old precocious albino.
DG: Yes. Even so. How well you know me, boy.
HT: How do you know this, Kid?
DG: How? He knows me that well because... (Takes a deep breath and lets it out, which sounds like air being forced through a breathing mask.) I AM... HIS FATHER.
RK: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Evang: Looks like we opened up a real can of worms here, people. Should we continue, or stop? It's up to you, now. But first, is Dark Glasses a deviant, or not?
???: Dark Glasses is not a deviant. It's typically male to be attracted to a certain type.
HT: I second that.
???: So he's a dominating personality. Probably likes to be on top of everything, even in bed. Is that a sin? I don't think so. Not a deviant.
Others: Yeah, that's right. Rather normal, I guess. Let's just go on to the next guy and move on.
Evang: The council has spoken. (Produces a super-large, clear mug, filled with beer.) Everyone know what this is?
Others: Of course! That's beer, isn't it? What do you take us for?
Evang: Good. Now, is anyone feeling thirsty here? No? You guys sure are tough. Those dehydrating cracker nuts should be kicking in right about... now.
???: Me! Need drink, now! (Reaching for the mug.)
Evang: (Moving the mug out of range.) We shall hear your story next, then.
Others: Huh?! What's this about? What's this for, we came here voluntarily to tell our tales!
Evang: Call it insurance. Now, do I have your agreement?
???: Yes! Now give it to me!
Evang handed over the mug, and its contents were reduced to half by the thirsty poor fool. The mug was handed back, and once in Evang's hands, it became full again. Everyone murmured in surprise and amazement.
Evang: Now then. Your name, sir?
???: You can call me Super Soldier.
Others: Hi there, SS.
Evang: Go on. Tell us your dirty secrets, the stuff you'd rather not let the whole world see or know.
SS: Well, I like to play savior and champion of the underdog. I get a kick out of rescuing helpless young misses and stealing a squeeze, or accepting a tight hug, which I consider my just rewards for what I just did.
HT: Sounds like my fetish.
SS: Unlike Hell-Teacher, however, I prefer to go for the high school girl type. There's just something about the combination of white blouses and short skirts that gets me going. Heck, I think it's the short skirts. They either billow up with the wind to show some thigh, or they're the tight ones that show off a nice ass.
DG: So you're a sucker for girls in uniform.
SS: You could say that, Commander.
DG: Commander...?
SS: You have the look of one. I should know, I grew up during the period of a war for separation from a restrictive, overprotective government.
RK: Any other reason why you go for the high school type?
SS: Well, I never really got to study. Really study, I mean like books and flag ceremonies and lunch period and all. By the time the war was over, well... (Shrugs.)
Evang offers him the mug again, and this time Super Soldier shakes his head.
Evang: Right then. Who's next? (Someone reaches for the mug.) Oh, good, the next victim. Here you go.
???: (Drinking his fill.) Ah. Can't say I agree with the taste of beer, but that's secondary to wetting my throat. Ah. Hi, I'm Denial King.
Others: Hi there, Denial King.
DK: I don't know if I'm a pervert or not. I just like to play games with women, you know, keep those who desperately want to sleep with me hanging along, pretending I don't give a fuck about them, when in fact, that's what I really want to do. Give them a fuck, that is.
HT: We don't have a pervert here, people, we have a sicko.
SS: But not a deviant in the sexual sense of the word.
DK: Gee, thanks for that much. So you wanna here my story or do I get the verdict now?
Evang: Hell-Teacher, Super Soldier, you should have let him finish.
RK: Besides, we haven't even heard his type.
DK: My type is simple. I like the ditzy types with big hooters and long hair. You know, your stereotypical dumb bimbo? Make an impression on them once, they won't forget abut you for the next five years or more. I used to have a yen for blue-haired women who could cook gourmet, 'cause I'm something of a culinary genius myself, but I found out the hard way that they take the old saw "The way to a man's heart - and other vital systems - is through his stomach" a little too seriously.
DG: A misogynist who likes bimbos with good long-term memory. Interesting.
DK: A father who likes to "play " with his son's girlfriends because they remind him of his dead wife. Not exactly award-winning material, but maybe worth a manga and a TV series.
Dark Glasses and Denial King glared at each other. Neither one was willing to back down.
Evang: (To himself.) So much for support and reassurance. But what the hell. (Notices something.) So, mister, need a drink? Here.
???: (Gulping down the contents of the mug in just one go.) Can I have a refill? Maybe two, if it's not too much trouble?
Evang: No problem.
Everyone else in the bar watched as the spiky-haired man downed three double-sized beer mugs in succession without a pause. Some of the patrons beagn to clap their hands.
Evang: Judging form that display of machismo, I gather you're from the Navy.
???: Betcha that. (Burps.) Ah. I'm Periscope Guy. Nice to meet y'all.
Others: Hey. Yo! Ditto.
RK: Where'd you get such a strange name?
SS: You with a submarine crew?
PG: Who me? Nah. Weird shit of the matter is, I was Navy but I got transferred to lead some Imperial Flower Assault Squad or somesuch.
RK: Huh?!
PG: Right you are, Kid. Huh?! That was my first reaction too. Along with "Man, they're going to send me to lead some queers into battle." That was the scariest moment of my life, I'm telling you.
DK: Still doesn't tell us how you got the name Periscope Guy, though.
PG: Are you sure you're a cook? Aren't cooks supposed to have patience? I mean, I knew some galley guys who could outwait a saint or the devil himself. Now, where was I?
SS: Imperial Florists?
PG: Right. So, imagine my surprise when I met my squad and they were some of the best-looking pieces of ass taken from all over Japan, and we even had a half-Russian blonde and a petite French real-life Goldilocks.
HT: It wasn't the hell you imagined it to be, I take it?
PG: Hell no! Those are just the front-liners, which included me, who'll go out and do the hacking and shooting. The logistics and command unit, well, those were four different babies entirely, if you get my drift. Excuse the navy pun.
DG: Hmmm...
RK: Don't get any ideas, Father.
DG: (In pretend pain.) Oh, you wound me, son.
PG: Then, the next year, we had some new recruits from the Continent, a half-Italian half-Japanese girl and a boyish-looking German one. Lordy, that one made me go nuts when I found out.
DK: We still have to hear the reason for your being called Periscope Guy.
PG: And so here it is. Pop quiz: what's a persicope for?
SS: It's used by submarine captains to activity above water.
PG: Good answer. Now, I said something about discovering the truth about that boyish-looking German kid, right? How do you think I found out?
HT: Let me guess. You looked in on her while she was taking a bath, didn't you?
PG: Not just her, but the rest of my squad as well!
SS: The other women looked as well?
PG: Yeah! I mean, NO! They don't bend that way, I think. I meant that I peeked in on all of them while they were bathing, combat and command personnel alike!
DK: Every single one of them?
PG: Even the underaged French and German girlies.
Evang: Whoa.
Others: Incredible. The gall. The audacity.
PG: That's not all. A few months ago, I got shipped to Paris to do the "lead luscious female soldiers into battle" routine again, and they have a genuine Japanese noble's daughter in the squad as an import or something to that extent. Felt just like home, Paris did. And guess what the cover for our base their was.
HT: What?
PG: A cabaret! I'm serious! Looks sort of like this place, except classier-
Evang: HEY!!!
PG: -And my squadmates had to perform some outlandish routines every night! Know what can-can is?
DG: That's a performance where the women wear these skirts and kick up as high as they can to show their thighs and underwear, right?
RK: (Looks at his dad strangely and sidles away, whimpering.)
PG: Yeah. It's a European thing. Ever thought of a couple of noblemen's daughters performing it? With a jailbird serving a 100-year lockup sentence, a barely pubescent French-Indochinese brunette, and a ditzy former nun-in-training?
Others: We're thinking, we're thinking! Oh, yeah! That's it, baby!
Evang: Hey you, yeah, I'm talking to you, the one with the Koushiryoku Laboratory T-shirt. What's your story?
???: Can I have a beer first?
Evang: No, you're underage. No beer.
???: Gimme or I won't tell!
Evang: Oh, alright. (Hands over the mug to the last patron.)
???: (Takes a sip and spews it out, drenching the bartop.) Bleah! Why the hell do people drink this crap anyway?
Evang: Your name and tale, please. (To the others.) Alright, you perverts, let's listen to one last story before heading out.
???: Hi, my name is Ageless Kid, AK for short.
RK: Ageless?
AK: You know, they bring me out in the late 70's and then in the 90's but I only look like ten years older or so?
DG: I'd like to know your secret to staying young.
AK: No secret. It's called target market research.
Evang: Go on.
AK: Anyway, in my latest incarnation, I have a thing for attracting older women's attentions. Specifically, there are these twin blonde bombshells with Ph. D.'s - no joke, really! - working with my father, assisting in his research.
RK: My dad has a blonde scientist aiding him in his research. I think she's a peroxide blonde, though.
DG: Shut up, boy!
AK: Not too make myself bigger than my mecha, but during a beach outing, both of them wore the skimpiest bathing wear on the whole planet and tried to get me to rub suntan lotion and sunscreen on them.
HT: Beach outings are good. Very, very good. You see a lot of vitamin A in beach outings.
AK: Vitamin A?
HT: Things that are good for the eye.
AK: I see. Well, during that same episode, I managed to pull off my "best friend's" bikini top in a fight.
Others: Aaah.
DK: Why does 'best friend' have double quotation marks?
AK: Actually, she's supposed to be my love interest, but I keep insisting that we're nothing of the sort. Even when two of my buddies catches me in bed with her and her arms are wrapped around me. You might say (Casting a sly look in Denial King's direction.) that I'm denying the obvious.
DK: Why you-! GEKIGAN FLARE!!!
Denial King knocks Ageless Kid to the floor with his attack. Eager to seize the opening, Denial King drops his guard, which he dearly pays for.
AK: ROKETTO PANCHI!!!
Evang began to take bets on the outcome of the fight.
Evang: Ah, some booze, some gas, a lot of poking fun at, some dark humor, and a fistfight to top it all off. Yep, this is my kind of episode. I better think hard on how to top this one next time.
The double doors swing open, and the combatants look up. The newcomer is silhouetted against the doorway, and the occupants of the bar watch as he takes off his helmet and walks toward the bartender.
Kazuya: Kabuto-kun, why are you trying to kill Tenkawa?
Kouji: He started it!
Akito: Yeah, that's real mature of you, Kabuto. Just proves to show how much you've changed in ten years.
Ichiro: Unlike you, who changed a lot in a mere five.
Akito: At least I got some while I could. What about you? You slept with anyone of your flower-girls yet?
Gendo: Probably hasn't. He's mentioned a lot of women, but none of his conquests. He hasn't even told us what his type is.
Ichiro: How about Kabuto? He hasn't-
Shinji: He's just changing the subject, isn't he, Dad?
Gendo: Probably. Maybe he's gay, and all he said is just an elaborate lie to hide his secret.
Ichiro: Why you two!!! ( A katana and a wakizashi appear in his hands.) Shippu Jinrai!!!
Ichiro runs around trying to cut the Ikaris into ribbons. Using the distraction, Akito lands a blow to Kouji's genitals, causing the latter to howl in agony. Sousuke wisely ducks for cover behind the bar.
Kazuya: That's it! I've had a tough day dealing with that idiot brother-in-law of mine, and I need to unwind! If you won't let me drink in quiet to relieve my stress, I'll just use you to relieve it! Hissatsu!!!
(Insert standard rapid strike scene here. You know, fade to black, flashes indicating hits, lots of bodies on the floor when the screen goes normal again.)
Kazuya: (Panting.) Finally! Some quiet! Can I have a beer now?
Evang: (Hands him the mug, smiling evilly.) Want some cracker nuts to go with that?
Kazuya: Sure. (Pops a handful of nuts in his mouth and crunching.) Mmmm. Tasty.
EOF
