Prologue
Quickly the mad scientist Saionji thrust his hand into the air, a voice rising up from his soul that spoke as one possessed by many demons. To the side, his hunchbacked assistant cowered, the sheer might of this man's wildness like a battering wind. Was it he who caused the storm outside, the fierce lightning and the stabbing rain? Was it he who dared show such audacity, such contempt, such ingratitude—all by reforming this hulking mass, this inhumane sin? Saionji had spent a year assembling and constructing this homunculus, but at last his creation was whole, and he was filled to the very brim with volcanic glee. The abomination needed only to move for his plans to become perfection.
"LIVE, my creation!" he screamed, matching well with the roaring thunder. "LIFE! Do you hear me? GIVE MY CREATION…LIFE!!!" The world trembled at his insanity and, perhaps out of fear of repercussion, granted his diabolical request. The flow of energy blasted into the monster at once, and it opened its sinister yellow eyes and grinned at its master, its creator, its father.
"It…it's alive!" Saionji squealed. "It's really alive! MY GOD, IT'S ALIVE!!! Pyotr Ilich Tchaikovsky lives again!!!"
"Um, master?" the hunchback said. "Tell me again—why did you bring Tchaikovsky back to live?"
"Silence, Igor!" screamed the madman. "Don't question science! Now, release his harnesses so that I may glimpse at my creation in all its glory!" Even though he knew it was a bad idea, the hunchback obeyed and freed the monster. Without anything holding it back, the misshapen demon rose up from the table and lurched away, ready to once again wreak harmonious havoc on the world.
"No!" Saionji screamed, "come back! Where are you going? Come back, Pyotr! COME BAAAACK!!!"
He wasn't coming back.
"Oh well, you gotta take the good and the bad in science. Now let's pay another visit to the graveyard, Igor! I'm going to resurrect Ella Fitzgerald!"
"Here we go again," sighed the poor guy.
Al Kristopher and Mr. Toasty presents
"Fractured Tales of the Rose Bride"
Dios Is Mockin' Ya.
!!: A Nutty Cracker
Once upon a time, there lived a poor little girl in a poor little family, in a poor little corner of poor little Russia, circa 1900. In this country there lived a wicked king called Lenin, and he did a lot of mean things that made the girl's life miserable, as well as the lives of many other Russians. Every day seemed harder than the last for her, and she had to work for long hours just to keep the family house intact. The only solace came to her during the Christmas season, which was especially bleak for her countrymen, but for the girl, no time was more magical. Her name was Wakaba, and this is the story of how she found her prince and, more or less, lived happily ever after (despite what Juri might believe!).
During one of "Uncle Lenin's" wackier Bolshevik revolutions, the family was staying in a much larger house, owned by the only rich person who treated them kindly, Ms. Tenjou of Moscow and her "handmaiden" Anthy, who was the very first person to wait on Wakaba and her kin. They spent autumn in that house, weathering the political storms raging outside, and soon winter was upon them (in Soviet Russia, winter prepares for you!), ice and snow creating an endless wasteland of white, white, white; there was nothing but snow around for miles. But as children know, there is no force in the world that can stop St. Nicholas, and so when the enchanting Mass drew near, they began to anticipate his arrival all the more.
Oh the balls and the banquets they attended to during that time! Ms. Tenjou was a very kind hostess and allowed Wakaba's entire family to be at every gathering, and soon they saw so much pageantry that they grew wearisome of it. Eventually Tenjou got the idea (poor silly little Utena!) and stopped having them; the family returned to humbler ways to pass their days and nights. On one solemn night, however, Wakaba's eccentric uncle Touga appeared, playacting as the Wintry Saint as he came bounding into the house with a sack full of treats! Oh the shrieks of joy those children made, and how long they lasted!
For each child, Touga delivered a single gift, a reminder of charity and the goodwill that all people must bear towards one another, no matter what the time or season. For Wakaba he gave a hand-carved nutcracker, bright orange and white and gold, its oily face yawning at her in boisterous greeting. She adored it and treasured it above everything else; but even though the other children received very fine things, they were always on the lookout for better possessions, and when something is loved with that amount of affection, no other toy can suffice.
The evening turned into night gradually, guided by Uncle Touga's voice as he wove tales of mystery and magic, where djinns granted wishes and carpets flew, where sailors fought off dragons and maidens were rescued from towers. One by one the children became drowsy and were sent to bed; Anthy personally made sure that her mistress was "tucked in" properly (oh, g'won, you know what I mean!). Wakaba smuggled her precious new toy to bed with her and slept with it at her side, and for a single night, her dreams were pure and beautiful.
Early the next morning, though, she was horrified to discover her treasure was missing! She was sure that one of her brothers had taken it; she had noticed their jealous stares earlier on! Filled with anger, she marched down and caught them in the act: they were playing soldiers with it (ol' Uncle Vladimir would've been so proud!). She dashed herself against them and tried to recapture the doll, but they were barbaric and full of battle-lust, and would not give the toy up without a struggle. Uncle Touga and Ms. Tenjou arrived to break it up, but they were too late: the tug-of-war ended with both sides breaking apart the beautiful nutcracker.
One can only imagine how crestfallen Wakaba felt as her cherished gift was broken. That she was witness to her siblings' punishment didn't help mend wounds or forge together injuries: charity and kindness, as represented by this wooden figurine, had been shattered by greed and jealousy, a fact of life she would remember eternally. Uncle Touga, however, picked Wakaba up and comforted her, and promised to heal the doll's fractured limbs by the next morning. In spite of this, the rest of the day was spent in gloom.
However…
That night…
When the stroke of midnight sounded across the great house…
Something magical happened!
This is where the true story begins…
………
Unable to sleep because of her depression, Wakaba wandered down to the main room where, not long before, the greatest of joys had been ripped apart by her own siblings. In the darkness, she was unable to discern one shadow from the other, and the enveloping quiet gave the house an eerie feel. Gradually the black shapes took on forms, and she could identify things around her that had formerly been invisible. One of them was her cherished nutcracker, lying on the floor waiting for the gentle hands of its maker. Wakaba approached it, wishing to caress it one more time, even if it was a broken doll. Before she could reach it, small patches of darkness started to move, surrounding her and the toy. Her pulse went mad as she dared imagine what exactly they could be.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed (wow, spoken words? Remember those? How long has it been since that weird prologue, anyway?). "They're rats! And they're chewing up my nutcracker toy!" There are fewer things that will make a rat scurry like crazy than a gigantic irate young onion-headed princess—personally I wouldn't like to see the other things. Once they retreated, Wakaba had plenty of time to wonder where they had come from and why they were attacking this treasure, which seemed in even worse shape than before.
"Oh, noble nutcracker prince," she sighed gloomily, "it seems there are many circumstances that find pleasure in my misery. Is there no charity left at all in this world? Yet even you might feel love this night, if I cannot." And she gave her toy a kiss, cradling its broken, gnawed limbs with all of her love. To Wakaba's amazement, the toy nutcracker prince suddenly began to burn with a great brightness, and grew to a stature worthy of the noblest people. She gasped as the wooden figurine became flesh, and breathed, and smiled with utmost joy at the tender-hearted girl who had freed them.
Unfortunately, Wakaba was disappointed. She wasn't expecting Juri to be the prince.
"Umm…what gives?" she said, noticing the lady Arisugawa standing before her, dressed more or less in nutcrackery fashion (including the extremely fake beard strapped around her chin). Juri, still enamored with rapture, bowed properly and kissed the girl's hand.
"I must thank you, dear princess," she said. "I was placed under a horrible curse that removed me from my regal body and placed it into the vessel of a humble wooden toy. The only way to remove the spell was for a maiden of pure heart to demonstrate utmost kindness and love towards me. This you have done, my savior, and I am eternally in your debt because of it."
"Uhh…I think you got the wrong girl," Wakaba tittered. "I'm not a princess. I'm just a victim of Bolshevik misunderstanding and Communist revolution."
"That's what they all say," Juri replied. Again she took Wakaba's hand, eyes glittering with peace and love that, quite frankly, looked very alien on her. "Come with me, my princess, and leave this harsh place behind. I will show you the land where I came from, where you will be hailed as a hero, and where we may yet be wed."
"That's crazy! You're not a prince!"
"But I have a beard."
"It's a fake!" Juri frowned and removed the fake beard. She didn't look very happy, though for some reason, she did seem more elegant and…well, how else to say it? More "real" without the farce. Wakaba smiled and laid her hand upon the girl's smooth chin. "You look…much better like this. A nutcracker princess, eh? And you say you live far away from here?"
"Yes, in a land full of wonders, mystery, and enchantment."
"So it's not West Virginia?"
"Precisely. Come with me, my princess!" At once Wakaba was whisked away from her dreary life, and transported to the kingdom of the nutcracker princess, which was even more fabulous than she described. Beauty surrounded her, literally in every direction she could think to look, and even catching a glimpse of herself in a crystalline lake provided shock: Wakaba was now dressed in a glittering gown, the type even Ms. Tenjou did not own! Smiling at her savior and potential love interest, the nutcracker princess whisked Wakaba away, where they met the most interesting characters—including…
Kozue the Sugar-Plum Fairy (complete with tacky felt wings and plastic wand with cardboard star-shaped tip!)
Grossly stereotypical dancing Chinese mushroom Mitsuru (with rickshaw!!)
Ballerina-girl Shiori (with super karate tutu and psychological torture action!)
Wealthy Middle East Oil Merchant Miki (harem not included)
Transforming Czarina Nanami (becomes bovine before your very eyes!)
Chu-Chu the Clown (keep out of reach of children and cookies)
And all those other people coming together for a final dance number completely ripped off from a superior franchise
"Wow!" Wakaba exclaimed as she observed all this. "Is this really where you live?"
"Yes," said Juri. She took Wakaba into her arms and gave the young girl a charming smile. "Now please, my princess, give me the honor of this dance." Wakaba breathlessly accepted—and oh, how like Zephyr upon the world's tickling fancies did they move, like the bolt of Artemis piercing each cerulean breast, like the glittering eyes of God beaming down alight, like Astaire and Rogers—only lesbianized! They might have engaged each other in harmonious rapture for all of time if Wealthy Middle East Oil Merchant Miki (harem not included) hadn't bothered them.
"Excuse me, Miss Juri? May I ask a question?"
"Go ahead, but make it quick. I have to propose to my bride before the ballet ends." (Wakaba gasped and fanned herself with glee!)
"Yes, it'll just take a second. Why were you chosen to be the Nutcracker, anyway? Why not Saionji or Touga—or me?"
"I'll tell you why," she replied.
THWACK!!
"Ow! My lightsaber!"
"That's why," she stated. At last the dance ended, with poor Miki groaning on the floor and everyone else more or less engrossed with the two dancing princesses. They were both gasping, from love and music and enchantment, and soon their breaths were gone completely as Juri knelt down, Wakaba's hand cradled in her palms, and asked The Question that had been in her heart since she was first released from her prison.
"Wakaba?"
"Y-yes?" she croaked. Suddenly, Zombie Tchaikovsky burst through the cheap scenery and went on a rampage.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?!" Juri screamed. Everyone suddenly ran in a panic as the monster destroyed everything in sight.
"RRAARRGH! Tchaikovsky smash! Get revenge on world!" The monster continued his terror until his sights were fixed on the author, and with a final lunge, overcame him and ended the story.
The EndStay tuned for the next installment!
It's got pirates!Epilogue
Exhaling relief and contentment for a job well done, Miki dusted his hands off and stood amazed at how much good had happened since that terrifying zombie was discovered. With the beast no more and the damage repaired, a nice hot bath seemed in order, so he quietly sauntered away, off-stage. Suddenly, Saionji came sprinting from the distant background, calling out Miki's name until he nearly crashed into him.
"Miki, Miki! Miki!" Young Kaoru was outraged with shock and nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Saionji! No, it can't be! I just sent you back to the Christmas future!"
"Yes, I know!" Saionji replied, "I know you sent me back to the Christmas future—but I'm back, Miki, I'm back from the Christmas future!" With this incalculable revelation, Miki stood aghast, his mind spiraling.
"Great Scott!" And with that, he fainted, leaving Saionji the dubious task of reviving him.