Ureshii Park was a rather pleasant place for families to
spend lazy Sunday afternoons. Children giggled and played games
that involved a lot of running. Some adults also ran, but enjoyed
the activity considerably less. Couples shared intimate, but not
too intimate moments. Besides the never-ending struggle between
picnickers and ants, the place radiated a feeling of peace. That
is, it did before the large, reptilian thing showed up.

     It was, under a loose definition, a Yoma. Which had become
the popular term to refer to anything from an unidentified
species, that looked like it might very well bite your head off. 
In accordance to its nature, it snarled and growled and made like
it was only seconds away from bringing hot, bloody death to
anyone present. Many people were noticeably annoyed at the
slavering hell beast's sudden intrusion, but none panicked or
seemed particularly frightened at all.

     The Yoma paused and attempted to ponder the meaning of this
non-reaction. Unfortunately, its intellectual capacity was rather
limited, so it just went back to its snarling and growling bit
again. After a couple minutes of this, an well-endowed adolescent
girl, wearing what looked like a combination of a fairy-tale
princess' outfit and a way too short miniskirt leaped out of
nowhere and sternly faced the reptilian abomination. 

     "Hold, foul creature!" she declared, pointing at the, once
again confused, Yoma, accusingly. "It is I, protector of the
innocent, Princess Love!"

     Many of the assembled "victims" went back to their previous
activities. By now, this had become a familiar scene. 

     Princess Love gesticulated madly; her arms quickly making
out patented poses with precision accuracy.

     "You have committed heresy against Love, with your
unpleasantness! But have no fear, I shall change your wicked
ways, with power of song!"

     A microphone materialized in Princess Love's hand and she
began her serenade.

     "o/Hate is very, very bad! We should love instead! For with
the love in our hearts, we can live in happiness! Open your heart
to the yummy light that GURK!"

     The apathetic crowd suddenly started paying attention. It
seemed that Princess Love had updated her "Happy Healing Song";
it had never involved the word "gurk" before... And was all that
red stuff coming from her forehead some kind of new attack?

     Princess Love did not continue with the "Happy Healing
Song." Nor, did she use her Bubble Heart Wand or rush the
monstrosity with a flurry of kicks and punches. Instead, she
seemed to think that the wisest tactic would be to fall to the
ground with a sickening crunch.  Blood slowly poured out of the
gaping hole in her forehead and accumulated in a large puddle,
that soon encompassed her entire body. The Yoma, realizing that
Princess Love was no longer a threat, turned its attention on the
shocked crowd. Soon, the formerly serene park was transformed
into a maddening blur of screaming people. The slower percentage
of which didn't scream quite as much, considering that they were
being ripped to bits by the ecstatic Yoma. Which was good,
because it meant that nobody would be noticing me.

     I blew the smoke off my gun and returned it to my trench
coat pocket.

     "What did I tell you, man?" I said to my partner, Itami.
"Milk run. C'mon, let's go grab a burger."





Improfanfic presents...



MAGICAL GIRL HUNTER



An Improfanfic created and started by Aaron Shattuck.



Episode 1: It's A Dirty Job, But...



Written by Aaron Shattuck



Edited by Chippy the Transvestite Gnome





     Business had been picking up recently. It used to be we'd
have long gaps between _real_ work, which unfortunately had to be
filled by "working" in the kinds of establishments where we got
those burgers from. Now we had a waiting list. I'd like to think
that this was because we had developed a widespread reputation,
but I knew what the real reason was; they were multiplying like
cockroaches. Still, it was good for business. I mean, after all,
now we could afford the kind of food we used to have to serve.

     I had a lot of time to think about this kind of stuff, while
I was driving to work, because Itami's really not the chatty
type. No, he's more of the type of person that could be a real
role model for suicidal teens. He prefers staring off into space
to small talk, which I can't say I mind, but it does make for
rather boring car rides. I briefly thought of saying something to
him at the stop light, but when I looked at him, I felt compelled
to check myself in the mirror. See, Itami's kinda scuzzy looking.
Uncombed black hair all over his face, five o'clock shadow, the
works. Sometimes, I feel grungy just looking at him, and this was
one of those times. You'd probably be correct if you called it
obsessive-compulsive of me. Anyhow, my face was clean and there
wasn't a brown wittle hair on my head out of place, so all was
well. I gave my reflection that winning smile of mine, and then
resumed the driving thing.

     I pulled up to the building our office was in and checked my
watch.

     "Hmmm... Looks like we have some time to kill," I mused.

     "Yes... we do," replied Itami, in the same way you might
say, "My mother died today."

     "Darts or Black Jack?"

     "Darts... you always cheat at Black Jack."



     I have to say that Itami is damn good at darts. I guess he's
just talented in anything that involves throwing sharp objects. I
dunno... I suck at it, myself, so I was pretty relieved when I
heard a knock on the door.

     Eight o'clock, right on the nose. It seemed that our client
was one eager beaver. I quickly shoved the dart board underneath
one of the many unruly stacks of papers that covered the two
desks in our office (gotta keep up appearances, you know) and
went to open the door. 

     What I saw was not a good sign. The guy was covered from
head to toe. What he couldn't hide with his long, black coat, he
hid with sunglasses, a derby, a scarf, gloves and galoshes. The
whole setup just screamed, "Look at me! I'm trying to be
inconspicuous!" I mean, its not a requirement that our clientele
possess a modicum of intelligence, but it sure helps!

     Still, a client was a client. "Mashihaisha Ultra-san, I
presume?" I greeted him, smiling.

     "Shh! Not so loud," he loudly whispered, accentuating his
request by putting his finger up to where I guessed his lips must
have been.

     I fought back the urge to roll my eyes and ushered him
inside. Once there, the first thing he noticed was the first
thing everyone who comes to our office notices: the sailor fuku
pinned to the wall. It never belonged to one of them, mind you. I
actually bought it from a school supply store. Initially, I put
it up there as a joke, but it seemed to have quite an effect on
our clientele. Anyhow, once he got over that, he took off his get
up, and I saw that he was probably justified in wearing it. I
mean, as conspicuous as that cute little costume was, it wasn't
quite as conspicuous as a huge, blue skinned guy, with four arms,
three eyes, and no visible nose to speak of.

     Itami reluctantly got out of his seat and offered it to
Mashihaisha Ultra. We only have two chairs, you see and it was
his turn. I turned my seat around and straddled it.

     "Well, I believe that introductions are in order," I
reasoned cheerfully. "I am Yoi, and this is my partner, Itami."

     Itami actually managed to wave. Sure, he didn't bother to
pick his head up or look anywhere near Mashihaisha Ultra-san, but
it was quite an improvement, anyway.

     "It was very wise for you to come to us with your
particular... problem," I continued. "We're specialists in the
field, you know."

     Mashihaisha Ultra just nodded, his eyes darting around the
room like gnats on cocaine.

     "Mashihaisha Ultra-san, I assure you that we're completely
safe here," I soothed. I was pretty good at getting people to
calm down. Like Quaaludes without the side effects.

     "I... I'm sorry," stammered the client. "It's just that...
I've been on edge ever since..."

     "I understand what you're going through," I sympathized,
doing my best to ooze compassion from every pour. "It must be
terrible for you."

     "I mean, it's not like mine is the only organization of this
sort! Why doesn't she pick on someone else for a change?!" The
poor guy was close to tears. 

     "They tend to 'latch on' to specific groups and badger them
incessantly," I explained, doing my best psychiatrist
impersonation. "Our studies have shown that their 'obsession
complex' develops early on, usually regarding the first organized
business they run into... They'll continue their terrorist
activities towards that one group until they are stopped or it is
destroyed."

     Mashihaisha Ultra gulped; little beads of sweat beginning to
slide down his forehead. He was really worried now.

     "Really, it's an obvious crime; what these parasites have
done to entrepreneurs, such as yourself. Of course, the police
don't want to have to deal with the problem, and the public
certainly isn't pressuring them to. I'm afraid they're image has
become quite positive. So you see, you're not only helping
yourself, by enlisting our aid. You're also providing a valuable
public service..."

     Ah, the ol' rationale. See, despite the... shall we say less
than morally sound nature of the organizations (okay, gangs) that
Mashihaisha Ultra headed, the idea of hiring someone to...
well... to blow the heads off of little girls sometimes didn't
sit entirely well with them. I mean, they might constantly go on
about offing the squirts themselves, but the simple fact that
they were always guaranteed to fail, meant that they never really
considered what that would really entail. They had to, when they
hired us, though. We had a ninety-nine percent success rate.

     "If... if you say so," he conceded, claming down visibly.

     "So who do you want us to kill?" asked Itami. I swear, that
boy has no sense of human (well, near human) relations.

     "Itami-kun," I chided, "You know we don't use that word
here. Its 'remove from active operatation,' remember?"

     Itami gave me a look of quiet disgust, but didn't agitate
the situation further, thankfully. 

     "Her... her name is," Mashihaisha Ultra's eyes started
shifting again and he lowered his voice to a horse whisper,
"Captain Kawaii."

     He started rummaging through his pants pocket and produced a
dog-eared photo.

     "This is her picture. Please! I'll pay you anything! Half my
staff's quit already!"

     "Have no fear, Mashihaisha Ultra-san," I assured pleasantly,
plucking the photo from his hand. "You can consider your problem
solved."



     Dammit, I thought, examining the photo. She was one of
really young ones.

     What the hell motivated these organizations to recruit
toddlers, anyway? I mean, they were basically training them to be
terrorists! Did they get some perverse kick out of sending girls
who should be in pre-school, into urban combat situations? "Oh,
we're powerless against the enemy, Kyomi-chan! Only a
five-year-old like you can defeat them! Now go toddle off and
perform some guerilla tactics, while we have tea and scones!" It
was disgusting! Oh, well... at least it wasn't a team. I really
hated having to deal with the teams.

     Anywho, we decided to see if we couldn't lure kid viscous
out into the open. I had Mashihaisha Ultra-san leak out rumors of
his "organization" starting a new front at a local shoe repair
shop, called "Shoe Church. We Will Save Your Soles" (I figured
that if things got ugly, that place would deserve any damage it
sustained.) So, with any luck, if we waited around long enough,
we might spot someone matching Captain Kawaii's description
snooping around the place. Staking out a stake out, so to speak.
Unfortunately, this required sitting for long periods of time in
the car... with Itami.

     To amuse myself, I began imagining perverse conversations,
between people I saw in the street. It helped a bit.



     Two hours later, Itami started screaming and clutching his
head. I have to say I was quite surprised. Despite all the
supporting evidence, I had never _really_ believed that he was
insane.

     "Errr... Itami-kun... You okay, man?" I asked gently.

     "It's that song," he growled. "It's been stuck in my head
ever since our last job."

     "Huh?"

     "That stupid song that Princess whatshername was singing!"

     "What? That thing? But, she only got t' sing a couple
seconds of it!"

     "Yeah, but we had to hear it when we were doing the
research, remember?" explained Itami, his usual dour tone
beginning to return to his voice. "Must've triggered a
flashback."

     "Well, you know," I reasoned, trying to bite back a smile
and doing a rather poor job at it, "sometimes it helps if you let
it out."

     "What?"

     "You know... sing a few bars." Sure, I'd be in danger of
catching it myself, but I was _not_ going to miss an opportunity
to get the God of Gloom to sing the "Happy Healing Song."

     "You're kidding."

     "C'mon! At least do the 'yummy light' bit; it's my
favorite!"

     Itami just gave me his patented look of disgust and went
back to suffering in silence. Thought it would be too good to be
true.



     An hour after that, I left to go to the bathroom. On the way
there, I spotted a kid that I thought might've been the target,
but she didn't stick around too long. Just ran by, tripped, got
up and left. They're normally not so subtle, so I thought it was
doubtful that she was our quarry.



     Two hours after that, back in the car, Itami started
speaking again.

     "My mother died today, you know," he said in the same way
you might say, "Yes... we do."

     "Ahh... that's terrible," I replied, feeling (probably
justifiably) awkward. "Was she in pain?"

     "I dunno... They say she was caught in the trash compactor
for a few hours..."

     "Errr...," I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so I
just looked at him oddly.

     "I'm just trying to make conversation," Itami shrugged.

Thankfully, he let the subject drop. 

     Two hours after that and I was ready to quit and become a
finance accountant, like my parents always wanted me to. Probably
would have been a wise decision, but the little squirt decided to
show up at that very moment. Sorry, Dad.

     Okay, these were the telltale signs that the little
redheaded moppet in question was, in fact, our target.

1. She kept pacing back and forth in front of the "Shoe Church,"
peering inside the windows. How interested could a little girl
_be_ in a shoe repair shop?

2. She was way too cute. No normal kid is that cute in real life.

3. She was accompanied by a rabbit. A pink rabbit.

     "I think we have our girl," I suggested to Itami, who slowly
nodded. 

     It was time to confirm our suspicions. As planned, I started
the car up, and swung around the block, stopping at an alleyway.
I got out of the car and walked through the alleyway, which led
to the backdoor of the shoe repair shop. I entered through there,
waved to the confused shoe repair guy, and exited out the front
door.

     "Hey, niisan," the little girl stopped me as I was about to
walk away.

     Bingo!

     "Hm?" I asked, smiling benignly. "Can I help you, little
girl?"

     "You see anything strange going on in there?" she asked,
motioning towards the building I had just left.

     "Huh? Well, I went here to get my shoes repaired, but they
weren't very serviceable. They seemed too busy chanting and
talking about raising horrors from beyond time and space, to
bother with my spats, so I just left. I guess that is kinda
strange, come to think of it," I finished, contemplating this
revelation with my hand to my chin.

     The cute little dickens rushed off, right on schedule.
Presumably to transform into a "crusader against evil." That was
one of the problems with job; it was our company policy that we
had to let them transform first. Couldn't run the risk of killing
the wrong little girl, after all. And besides, the authorities
tended to "look the other way," when one of them got whacked.
After all, they were representatives of _foreign powers_ that
considered themselves _above_ Japanese law. Not that we could
afford not to be discreet, mind you.

     I signaled Itami with my toy walkie-talkie (hey, they were
cheap!) We were going to have to move fast.



     The plan was pretty simple. First, as prearranged, we had
one of Mashihaisha Ultra's guys come by to scare Shoe
Repairman-san off (he had to be completely convinced that he
wouldn't have to deal with Captain Kawaii in any way whatsoever,
before he agreed to do it, though.) Itami took a position behind
the counter and I hid behind a shoe rack that lay adjacent to the
door. After that, it was just a matter of waiting. Hey, hardly a
napoleonic display of military genius, but this kind of thing
_did_ work.

     We didn't have to wait long, before Captain Kawaii burst
into the room in a swirl of rainbow light.

     Technically, she looked just like the little girl from
earlier, but if I didn't know it was her already, my
consciousness wouldn't have registered the connection between the
two. I'm not sure how they do that. She seemed to be wearing the
standard sailor fuku-based uniform that, thankfully, came past
her knees and her only noticeable weapon was a plain
magician-type wand.

     "Mashyites, come out and play!" she smiled.

     Funny, no speech... Must be my lucky day, I thought,
leveling the gun carefully. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my
hand that caused me to drop my weapon. I let out a short cry and
looked down to see the fucking little pink bunny rabbit's teeth
clamped tightly on my hand. Naturally, this didn't escape Captain
Kawaii's notice. I would have been dead meat right there, if I
didn't have Itami backing me up. Unfortunately, the Captain
dodged his bullet and zapped him with a stream of rainbow colored
light. The light hit him right on _his_ hand, causing him to drop
_his_ gun, as well. I swear I smelled burning meat after that
happened.

     Great. Just great.

     Flinging the bunny off of me, I slipped from behind the
rack, rushed Captain Kawaii, and smacked her hard on the back of
the head. She flew forward and slammed against the far wall,
dropping to the ground.

     Okay, I was on top of the situation! Just had to get my
knife out and...

     Captain Kawaii got up, looked me directly in the eye,
smiled, and licked the blood that was trickling down her
forehead.

     Oh................................. shit.

     She was one of the nasty ones. No distorted sense of justice
here. No hippy-dippy-trippy ideals of love and compassion. This
girly liked the part where she got to hurt things. No wonder
Mashihaisha Ultra was so edgy...

     I nodded to Itami and we ran the hell out of there as fast
as we could. The tables were turned now. She was armed, and we
weren't (well, I still had my knife and a book of matches,
but...) I just hoped that her stumpy little legs wouldn't be able
to keep up with us.
     Damn, so much for our ninety-nine percent success rate.

     I looked over at Itami. I swear that guy scares me
sometimes... He didn't seem to register in the least that his
right hand had become what looked like a very overdone pot roast.
It was a shame that we had never bothered to get any medical
insurance...

     Wait, it looked like we wouldn't have to worry about big
hospital bills, because Captain Kawaii was catching up with us.
The kid was _fast_... Okay, I'd just turn left on this corner
and... Itami, you idiot! He simply _had_ to turn right, didn't
he? Well, maybe she'd follow him, instead of me.

     It looked like I had entered a residential area... Pretty
posh neighborhood, with lots of expensive looking, western-style
houses. Well, that meant solid doors. 

     I rang the doorbell of the first one I came to. A
well-dressed lady opened it and looked at me, confused.

     "Avon calling," I explained, punching her directly in the
face.

     She fell unconscious on the ground. Really, it's not as if I
get a kick out of hurting people, but I didn't exactly have time
to explain my situation.

     All right, I thought, locking the door. Time to put on your
thinking cap, Koi. Any minute now, a juvenile delinquent with a
wand of death is going to come a-knockin'. I just gotta come up
with a plan of action and everything'll be cool. That's right,
just keep a level head and... Why was the pet door swinging?

     I prayed to whatever gods that existed to please make it a
cat, before looking down and seeing a pink bunny rabbit staring
up at me with beady little eyes. 

     That does it, I thought. I'm really becoming an atheist now.

     "Over here, Captain Kawaii!" the bunny screeched in a voice
that could only have been developed for the purposes of
shattering glass. "He's over here!"

     Might as well make the most of my impending doom, I thought.
I picked up the little pink bunny rabbit and repeatedly smashed
it's cute little body against the wall. It made some satisfying
crunching sounds, twitched a bit and then went completely limp,
it's blood and brains covering the previously white plaster.

     Boy, that felt good, I thought, just before the door flew
off its hinges.

     I didn't need to look. I _knew _ what it was behind me. All
I needed to do was get the hell out of there.

     I ran through the kitchen which, thankfully, led to the back
door. It didn't calm my nerves any, to hear the pitter-patter of
little feet following me, though. Being shot at didn't help any,
either. It was a good thing that Captain Kawaii didn't have very
good aim. Either that or she was toying with me. Beams of rainbow
light shot past me, inches away from doing serious damage. As I
ran for my life, I began to mutter "o/Hate is very, very bad, we
should love instead...o/"

     Argh! I thought. Now I have it stuck in my head!

     The beams started trailing off and becoming fewer in number.
Looked like my adrenaline rush was giving me a bit of an edge,
speed-wise. I ducked into an alleyway and began to bury myself
deep within the labyrinth that was created by poor urban
planning. It didn't take long before they ran out, though, and
was back out in the open again. 

     The open wasn't good. I had to find a far less visible place
to be, like, say... Like that warehouse over there.



     The lock had already been ripped off, which was a bit
suspicious, but I didn't have many options. The way I saw it, the
possibility of running into an insane homeless man, was a far
better prospect than being a sitting duck for an insane little
girl and her magic wand bazooka.

     I carefully crept behind a stack of wooden crates and came
within three inches of having my head bashed in with a crowbar.

     "Oh," shrugged Itami, still holding the crowbar too close to
my head for my liking, "it's just you."

     "Yes, it's me!" I snapped, my usual composure having
withered away quite a bit. "Just where the hell did you go off
to?!"

     Itami decided it was beneath him to point out that I now
knew _exactly_ where he had gone off to, and decided to just
stare at me, instead.

     Okay, I thought. Maybe Captain Kawaii _won't_ be able to
follow my trail like a bloodhound and kill us both where we
stand... and maybe the Prime Minister'll throw me a Christmas
party, as well. I need a plan, and fast!

     I began to nervously pace around with my head down, so it's
really no wonder I smacked it on one of the wooden crates.

     Rubbing my sore noggin, I happened to notice what was
written on that particular crate. "Warning: Flammable. Kerosene.
This side up."

     Let's have a round of applause for dramatic coincidence,
folks.



     "o/With warm hugs, we'll start to feel fuzzy inside. And
then we'll have... Happy, happy smiles...o/" I sang, as I stuck
my knife into the final barrel. Picking it up, I shuffled
backwards, allowing the very flammable liquid inside to splatter
on the ground in a thin trail. Satisfied that I had gone back far
enough, I quickly ran back to the front door and put the barrel
down there, by the others. 

     "Itami, did you get that window open?" I asked, wiping the
kerosene that had splashed on my hands on my pocket-handkerchief.

     "Yes," he muttered. "What'll we do if she decides to start
firing at us from outside?"

     "Why, we'll die of course!" I confirmed, cheerfully.

     This didn't seem to upset him quite as much as I thought it
would.

     I skipped up to Itami, continuing to sing the "Happy Healing
Song" under my breath. Now standing directly next to the open
window, I took out my book of matches. 

"o/We should loooooove! We Should looooooove!o/"

Before I could get to the final stanza of the song, I heard the
creak of a door being opened.

     Yes! She didn't blow it open with her magic wand! Thank you,
thank you, thank you!

     Captain Kawaii smiled maliciously, and leveled her magic
wand straight between my eyes.

     "You did a bad thing to Pinku-chan," she chided. "That
wasn't very nice."

     I smiled back and lit the book of matches.

      "Let the yummy light into your heart, you little freak!" I
suggested, dropping the handful of flame onto the kerosene
stream.

     We jumped out of the window, and, unfortunately, parts of
the building decided to follow us. I guess I should have thought
of that, I mused as a piece of what used to be a wall slammed
into me.

     Fortunately, it seemed that all the action pictures I'd seen
hadn't lied to me, because I was still alive. Albeit, in more
pains than I have ever thought possible, but alive nevertheless.
Groaning, I shrugged some flaming wreckage off of me and got up.
What I saw, didn't help my mood. 

     Captain Kawaii stood a few feet in front of me and, despite
a few singed spots on her fuku, looked none the worse for wear.
She was also putting Itami's arm in a position that it had never
been intended to be in. She giggled, as his joint started making
unpleasant snapping sounds, followed by a small whimper. Jeez, he
must've really been in pain, to do that. After a resounding
"crack!" she let go of the arm, which hung limply at odd angle.
Then, she started on the other one.

     "You're those 'Magical Girl Hunters' I've heard about,
right?" she asked cheerfully, as she put my partner through all
new levels of agony. "You're sure a lot more fun than the
Mashyites. I have lots of games we can play!"

     It was then that I realized that I really, really, really
hated my job.





Gasp! What will happen to our loveable pair of child murderers?!
Damned if I know! I thought I should mention to anyone sadistic
enough to continue this happy little story, that just because I
wrote it in the first person, doesn't mean you have to. Heck, you
can even write it in a different persons perspective, if you
want! Sure, it'll look choppy, but that's rather difficult to
avoid with this kind of thing, isn't it? Well, that's all for
now. Say good night, Chippy!



Chippy: Burn in hell, Aaron!



Enh... close enough.



This story concept and all the characters and stuff are property
of Aaron Shattuck, who should be very sorry he created them, but
isn't. So there!