PART TWENTY-EIGHT: Leaping Loveseats OR A Bottle of Plot Remover (Formerly) A Spoof Chase Production NOW An ImproFanfic Production (http://www.improfanfic.com) A Furniture Warriors ImproFanfic Created by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne. This Episode by W4, the Mad Author, who is pretty menacing with a laundry basket. (All characters copyright Nihana-san, except for the original characters, which are Improfanfic property. I'm not making any money off of this, so litigation is futile. This is a No-Pokemon zone, so please store all of your Pokemon in the nearest paper shredder.) */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* On the last episode of "Ranma 1/2", Ranma, tired of being fate's whipping boy, tricked his four fiancees into marrying each other. Okay, so it's not true. But *I'd* pay good money to see that. On the last episode of "Furniture Warriors", however: -Queen Radiance (the real one) convinced Dark Queen Irradiance (the fake one) that Ikea was not, in actually, an ice-cream stealing son-of-a-bitch. -Hugh and Leonardo dropped Marlo into the chamber of the Not-A-Vortex- Actually-An-Ice-Cream-Maker, where many vile, unpleasant, chafing and downright not-nice traps beat him senseless. -Fifi, in a Fit Of Rage(tm), destroyed the only way that Dr. Shockwave, the Not-Mad-Scientist-Who-Wants-To-Tear-You-Limb-From-Limb-But-Has-A-Pretty- Good-Rationale-For-It, had to access his lab in the Dimension of Light. He convinced Fifi, Shelly, Yoshi and Tony that, with the right parts, he could use his mad ninja MacGuyver skillz to repair his portal spawning device. Fifi and Yoshi formed one team, and Rebecca and Tony formed the other. These teams sallied forth in quest of parts. -Yarslov told Ikea that his new behaviors were scaring him and the others. Yarslov then told Shelly that her father was in a coma and currently residing in his head. Shelly replied with hits, blows and other violent displays. -Fifi had the urge to play dress-up with Yoshi. Yoshi had the urge to run like heck. -Dr. Pfischer told the Ottoman Emperor that they could take advantage of Furniturespace's flux by making themselves the only ones with permanent access to their furniture. They began to plot and plan. -Rebecca found and gutted a television. -Miss Oeru was discovered by The Ottoman Emperor and Dr. Pfischer, the last two people she had hoped to meet. -Ikea and Lumi started their "Healing through Baskin-Robbins" Therapy. -The Furniture Vortex started acting up again. Uh oh. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Miss Oeru tried to fold herself into as small a space as possible as the Emperor reached through newly reopened passages to the realm of furniture and sought the Sofa of Power and the Ottoman of Doom. The look on his face when they emerged, bright orange and composed entirely of lightweight foam rubber, was absolutely priceless. WHAT. . .? Miss Oeru took the oportunity to run like hell. "Sh- sh- she's getting away!" Dr. Pfischer stammered as he awkwardly stumbled after her. WELL, STOP HER! the Emperor barked. AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE, YOU AND I ARE GOING TO HAVE A LOOOOOOOOONG TALK ABOUT THE... DESECRATION... OF MY WEAPONS. Miss Oeru managed to get to the doorway when she felt a tugging behind her. Dr. Pfischer had managed to grab a hold of her dress shirt. In an attempt to pull her back, he gave the garment a mighty yank, and it came off. The look on Dr. Pfischer's face as Miss Oeru turned to face him could best be described as "Deer in Headlights." DR. PFISHCER! WHY ARE YOU JUST STARING AT HER LIKE... WHY, MISS OERU, IS THAT A PUSH-UP? Miss Oeru, blushing from head to toe, responded by picking up Dr. Pfischer, throwing him into the Ottoman Emperor, and resume panicked flight. The Emperor picked up Dr. Pfischer with one hand. OH, GOOD GRIEF. YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU GOT NOSEBLEEDS. WHAT A PANSY, the Emperor lamented. "....gah," Dr. Pfischer squeaked in reply. PERHAPS YOU CAN TELL ME WHY MY WEAPONS ARE PLUSHY? "...gah." HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP? "...gah." MAMA SAID THERE'D BE DAYS LIKE THIS. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Shelly stormed down the hallway at a pretty fast clip. Harry, who was still butt-scooting, and Joanie were having a hard time keeping up. "That no-good, rotten, vile, stupid, poor excuse for a man!" Shelly seethed. "Wh- which one?" Joanie asked between pants. Shelly stopped, stomping her feet. "BOTH OF THEM!" she barked. Joanie clamped a hand on Shelly's shoulder. "Shelly, stop," she commanded. Shelly took a deep breath while Harry scooted past the two ladies. "If you don't calm down a bit, you might end up storming into some other trap or something." "Well, it's all their fault!" she replied. "If they weren't being irresponsible, perverted jerks..." "Now wait just a minute there!" Joanine interrupted. "There's no way you can believe that either Yarslov or your father are remotely responsible for the Ottoman Emperor, Marlo or any of that nonsense!" "Why are you taking their side all of a sudden?!?" Shelly shouted. Joanie let out a sigh. "Shelly, listen," she began. "I know a lot has happened recently, and it's downright aggravating. But we need to keep things in perspective. We don't have access to our furniture. Ikea's... having personal problems. And Harry is..." Joanie looked over to see Harry hit his head against the wall, accentuating each strike by shouting, "POING!" With a bigsweat, Joanie continued, "...is just plain nuts. Yarslov is the only decent ally we have, and he's not that bad of a guy, either. So if you could just-" "Just what?" Shelly hissed. "Be nice to him? Date him? Buy him pie? Hah! Hah! And hah again!" */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Yarslov chuckled to himself as he rounded the corner. "Shelly must be feeling better," he thought to himself. "I can hear her laughing. What a froody chick..." */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Shelly continued her rant, "My father is a deadbeat bum, and that... that... beach bum neanderthal was an ass even before he got my dad in his head!" "Shelly! Knock it off! He might hear you!" Joanie warned. Shelly put her hands on her hips. "Well, good!" she responded. "They should hear that I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE them both! Those jerks can stay with each other until Doomsday for all I care!" Shelly's condemnation was accentuated by the sound of a cue stick clanging on the ground. Joanie and Shelly turned and saw a shellshocked Yarslov. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* "S... S... Shelly... Shelly hates us, dude..." Yarslov thought to himself. "Aw, she's just saying that, mate," Mick tried to reassure him. "Shelly hates us. Very, very, very, very, very, very unfroody," Yarslov continued. Mick ahemed, then responded, "Hello? She's just venting steam..." "Shelly HATES us..." */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Shelly crossed her arms and glared at Yarslov. Joanie watched him with concern. Not bothering to pick up the cue stick, he slowly shuffled by the two ladies, staring into space. "Yarslov, where's Ikea?" Joanie asked, trying to break the tension. Yarslov shrugged as he slowly trudged along. "Dunno," he muttered. Shelly shouted, "What?!? You just left him alone by himself? What arGHMPH-" Joanie clamped a hand over Shelly's mouth and pulled her aside. Yarslov continued to shuffle straight ahead, devastated. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* One of the Laws of the Bishounnen is that, no matter how cool and handsome a bishounnen is, it is downright impossible to look studly and sexy when cross-dressing. Yoshi learned this law the hard way as he looked in the mirror. Were he not a bishounnen, he would have clawed at himself while screaming Bloody Murder. He was adorned with rouge, lipstick, mascara, a black lace bra, a red teddy, golden bracelets on each arm, white silk panties over black silk panties over red silk panties, thigh-high stockings and red pumps. His own clothes were in a sack that was wrapped around Fifi's left shoulder. Yes indeed... Yoshi was in Victoria's Secret Hell. Fifi bounced up and down as she shrieked, "WAAAAI! You look so... so... so..." "...utterly gay?" Yoshi offered. "NO!" Fifi shouted as she stomped her heel on the ground. "I was GOING to say, 'sexy!'" Yoshi rolled his eyes. "I don't feel 'sexy'," he mockingly replied. Fifi placed her hands on her hips and harumphed. "Harumph!" she harumphed, "That happens to be one of my favorite outfits, you ingrate!" "And I'm sure that it looks good on a WOMAN," Yoshi added. Fifi sighed. "You know what? You're just no fun," she stated. "I'm not SUPPOSED to be fun. I'm supposed to be a bishounnen, not a 'Priscilla, Queen of the Desert' groupie! Look at me! I'm RANTING! I NEVER rant! You did this to me! You stole my bishounnenness! I want my bishounnenness back, you freak!" he ranted. Fifi snickered. "Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch," she remarked with a snicker. "It's too late for that!" Yoshi shouted, red-faced, as he tried to grab his clothes from Fifi. "Ah, ah, ah," Fifi teased. "What's the magic word?" "Gimme!" Yoshi responded. Fifi leapt back. "Wrong," she stated. Yoshi glared at Fifi, then pointed at the bag. "Give. Me. That." he commanded. Fifi put on her best innocent face, pointing to the top layer of her lingerie. "Oh, this?" she cutely asked. She peeled it off, then tossed it on Yoshi's face. Yoshi counted to ten. It didn't help. He charged at Fifi and grabbed the sack, giving it a hearty yank. They were having a tug-of-war. "That's MINE!" he shouted. "You can't have it!" she protested. They tugged for a minute, neither side relenting. Then, Fifi lost her balance. Sensing an opening, Yoshi gave a hearty tug. Fifi stumbled forward, tripped into Yoshi... ...and their lips met. Their eyes widened, and time seemed to freeze. They violently pulled themselves away from each other, Yoshi claiming the sack. "I'll... be... right back..." he muttered as he shuffled off to change. Fifi stood there, maintaining her stunned reaction. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Tony had spent the past twenty minutes trying to be as quiet as possible. The main reason for this was to do anything in his power to dissociate himself from the human wrecking ball that chose him as a partner. Whenever any sort of problem came up, she would solve it by beating it, breaking it, and generally destroying it. He had considered telling her that she need not break down every wall in their path, but he opted to bite his tongue. Rebecca pictured an image of Fifi on another wall and proceeded to knock that one down. "DIE, FIFI!" she bellowed. Tony gulped. Then he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. "What's that?" he asked. Rebecca plowed through him. Tony fell, but he managed to prevent the television tube from breaking. They both saw Miss Oeru running around without her shirt. Miss Oeru looked, nervously, at Rebecca and Tony. "...eek," she squeaked. "You're one of HER friends, aren't you?" Rebecca snarled. "W... whose friends?" Miss Oeru nervously asked, trying to reach for card shurikens that just weren't there. "FIFI'S!" Rebecca shouted. Miss Oeru jumped back. "Nononononono!" she whimpered, shaking her head and hands wildly. "I used to work for the Emperor but when Marlo went to power I worked for him but now he's powerless and the Emperor wants to hit and hurt me and please don't kill me!" Rebecca and Tony audibly blinked. "Didn't... Fifi work for the Emperor?" Rebecca asked. Miss Oeru nodded. "And," Rebecca continued, "you're working against the Emperor now?" Miss Oeru nodded. Rebecca smiled. "Come with us," she ordered as she busted through another wall. Miss Oeru and Tony exchanged "Why me?" looks with each other. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* After being beaten, burned, cut, sliced, pummelled, tenderized and perforated, one would tend to lay down and die. But Marlo didn't. Mainly because he was tied to a stake. With his punched and blurry eyes, he gazed at the Not A Vortex; Actually An Ice Cream Maker as it began to hop and hobble all over the trap room. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn that the device was growing arms, legs and a head. He also thought that he heard singing. "Oooooooh, Iiiii've been workin' on the voooooooortex aaaaaaaall the livelong daaaaaaaaaay..." the machine seemed to warble. Switching back from human hamburger patty to loudmouthed, obnoxious jerk, Marlo yelled, "The Marlo demands that you knock off that yelping right now!" The machine, which was forming into a mix between a giraffe, a dinosaur and a Tinkertoy figurine, turned at Marlo. "Really? He does?" it asked innocently. "This Marlo fellow sounds like an unfriendly person." "Don't patronize the Marlo, you bucket of bolts!" you-know-who commanded. "Who the hell do you think you are?" The machine looked blankly at Marlo, then looked upward. It sat down and said, "Hmmm..." After a minute of deliberation, the machine replied, "I have no idea!" Marlo would have facefaulted if he were not tied to a stake. "Well, the Marlo says that you can call yourself 'Candy-Ass' for all he cares!" Marlo shouted. The machine thought about this. "Hmmm... this 'Marlo' person sounds very unfriendly. I'll be sure to tell Mommy about him," he plainly stated. Marlo rolled his eyes and wondered what he had done in life to deserve being subjected to this jabroni. The machine peered at Marlo. "Are you Mommy?" it asked. Marlo spat at the machine. "You can take your mommy, turn her sideways, and shove her up your roody-poo candy ass!" he yelled. The machine blinked, then said, "You sound a lot like this Marlo fellow, you know? Well, no matter... Mommy should be around somewhere. I can feel her presence. Ta!" With a mighty leap, the machine exited the pit. As the machine left, the traps deactivated. Marlo decided that immediate action was necessary. He was going to take a power nap. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Shelly glared at Joanie. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked. Joanie took three deep breaths. "You and I need to talk," she replied. Shelly crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "What?" she snapped. "Shelly, I think you really hurt Yarslov's feelings. Mick's, too. Didn't you see the hurt look on his face? I think you should apologize before he wanders off like Harry or Ikea did," Joanie says. Shelly balked. "You're just saying that because you've got a crush on him," she stated. Joanie gritted her teeth. She was Shelly's friend, and she would not, could not punch her out. Not even if she wanted to. ESPECIALLY if she wanted to. Joanie laughed. "You know what?" Joanie replied with a smirk. "You're right. I DO have a crush on Yarslov. And if you don't want anything to do with him, then I think I'll take him from you." Shelly turned beet-red. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?" she hollered. "After all..." Joanie snickered, "It's not like you LIKE LIKE him. Heck, you said it yourself. You hate hate hate etc. him." Shelly harumphed. "That's right!" she agreed. Joanie turned her back on Shelly. "Then I'll hunt down Yarslov while you fight that armed Furniture Warrior behind you," she stated. Shelly spun around, panicked, and clung to Joanie. "Stay back!" she shouted. There was no reply. Shelly looked around and saw nobody but Joanie and herself. "Y- you TRICKED me!" Shelly shouted. "I'm trying to make a point, Shelly!" Joanie yelled back. "I'm not asking you to love Yarslov or even like him! But right now, he has access to Furniturespace, he's protecting your father's spirit, and he is genuinely concerned about our safety! You could at least show him a bit of respect, at least until this mess blows over. Once everyone is safe, you can hate him all you want, but until then, get some perspective!" Shelly crossed her arms and rolled her eyes again. "...fine. I'll apologize to the twerp. Now let's go find him." Joanie let out a sigh. At least it was a start. She walked off and motioned for Shelly to follow her. "So..." Shelly asked, "You're really going to 'take' Yarslov?" Joanie blushed and smiled. "Since you don't want him..." she stated. "Of course not!" Shelly hissed. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Ikea watched as his sister gulped down ice cream. Queen Radiance smiled to himself. Ikea's hair grew spikier, and his ear perked up. He heard a voice say, "...been beaten by the evil Ikea. He must be destro... er... immobilized." Dr. Shockwave entered the room and gasped. "IKEA!" he screamed, fumbling around for some sort of weapon. "Dr. Shockwave!" Queen Radiance shouted with glee. Dr. Shockwave squinted at Queen Radiance. "Who the hell are you?" he asked. Queen Radiance facepalmed. "I... I'm Queen Radiance!" she replied, shocked. Dr. Shockwave shook his head. "No, you can't be Queen Radiance," he spoke. "Queen Radiacne is... well... pretty." Queen Radiance facefaulted. Ikea raised an eyebrow. "Why must I be immobilized?" he queried. Dr. Shockwave glared at Ikea, pointing a banana in his face. "You, traitor, sided with the Ottoman Emperor!" he announced. "You are scum on the pond of humanity! In the name of all that is good, I will cause you a long and painful death! KYAAA!" Dr. Shockwave charged at Ikea, lunging at him with the banana. Ikea sidestepped and watched as Dr. Shockwave tripped over Queen Radiance and into Lumi-chan, causing her to spill her ice cream. Lumi glared at Dr. Shockwave. "You..." she droned, "...are an evil, evil man! You RUINED MY ICE CREAM!" Dr. Shockwave locked gazes with Lumi. "NOBODY CALLS ME EVIL! I HAVE KILLED FOR LESS!" "Ano... Dr. Shockwave..." Queen Radiance chuckled nervously as she picked herself up. The Formerly-An-Ice-Cream-Machine-Now-A-Force-Upon-Itself entered the room. "MOMMY! There you are!" Queen Radiance looked at the machine lovingly. "SON!" she gleefully shouted. "MOMMY!" the machine repeated as it charged towards Queen Radiance. "SON!" Queen Radiance called backi. "MOMMY!" the machine yelled once more as it ran towards Queen Radiance... and right past her. It picked up Ikea in a gentle hug and sighed, "I love you, Mommy." Everybody except Ikea and the machine facefaulted. */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* WILL DR. PFISCHER RECOVER FROM SEEING MISS OERU IN A BRA? WILL THE EMPEROR GET HIS FURNITURE DE-NERFED? WILL YARSLOV ENTER A BLUE FUNK? WILL HE BE ABLE TO GET HIMSELF OUT IF HE DOES? WILL YOSHI GET HIS BISHOUNNENNESS BACK WHEN HE WEARS HIS OWN CLOTHES? WILL FIFI ENTER A LOVE POLYGON WITH HUGH, REBECCA *AND* YOSHI? WILL REBECCA AND MISS OERU TEAM UP TO BEAT UP FIFI? WILL TONY WATCH? HOW LONG WILL MARLO BE TIED TO A STAKE? (Hopefully for a bit longer...) WILL JOANIE MAKE GOOD ON HER PROMISE TO 'TAKE' YARSLOV? WILL SHELLY EVER NOT BE A RAGING, AKANE-ISH BITCH? IS IKEA REALLY A MOMMY? All this and less in Chapter 29 of Furniture Warriors, appropriately titled, "It's Nerf or Nothing!" or "Flirting and Furniture!" */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* */ \* Author's note: (D-sharp) This taught me a very important lesson. After writing too many GwG chapters, it's next-to-impossible to go back to writing for "real" impros. This'll be my last FW chapter because I don't like the way my chapters turn out. 8( Many thanks go to Phoebe for pre/proofreading for me. http://www.students.rhodes.edu/%7Eknoke/indie/indie.html Indie Madnesse Lotsa larfs and Impros