The sun shone down on the merry, misty land of England, bathing the land in its warm light and giving life to the quaint inhabitants of the small country. The birds sang in the trees, the traffic trundled along on the left side of the roads and the young anime fans screamed as they fell from several thousand feet towards certain death in a small country field. [Darn,] thought Eslington, as he and Omi fell towards the ground. [I really must work on the depth setting of that spell.] "Aaah!" screamed Omi, flailing her arms about. "Eslington! Stop us!" "Just a minute..." replied Eslington, twisting a few bands of metal on his staff. "Okay," he said, grabbing Omi's arm. "This should work..." Eslington muttered a few words and the staff began to glow a strange blue-purple colour. The descent of the two party guests slowed to a pleasant float, as the kinetic energy of their descent was absorbed by the staff. Omi no Miko landed lightly on the ground, followed by her ladder (landing a bit more heavily). She looked around her at the countryside, which was mostly comprised of fields, more fields, a few hedgerows, a small public footpath and more fields. "Where are we?" asked Omi, as she crouched down to pick up her ladder. "Well I didn't want to risk teleporting directly into town in case we materialised on a road or something, so I brought us to the countryside instead. Now we just have to get to town somehow." Eslington sighed as he watched a young man on a bicycle speed along the footpath. "If only I'd brought the 'summon bicycles' spell..." Omi looked at Eslington's staff, an idea forming in her head. "Ano, can you make that staff fly?" Eslington turned to look at her, grinning evilly. "That's a brilliant idea, Omi! This'll get us there in no time at all!" "Wai!" cheered Omi as Eslington pressed a button on his staff turning it into- Omi blinked. "A spear?" asked Omi, staring at the weapon. Eslington nodded and turned to face the cyclist. With a grunt of effort he threw the weapon at the bicycle. A trail of green sparks flew from the back as it flew towards the bike and went straight through the front wheel. The bike jerked to a halt, flipping up on its front wheel as it stopped turning. In accordance with Newton's first law of motion, the unfortunate cyclist continued moving in a straight line until he landed on the ground with a painful sounding thud. With a wave of his hand, Eslington brought the spear flying back with the bike hanging from its handle. As he pulled the spear from the spokes the weapon shifted back to its normal staff form. "There," said Eslington, grinning. "Now that we've got transportation, getting to town should be easy." "Actually, I meant that we could fly to town on the staff," explained Omi. "..." responded Eslington. "I'm surprised you didn't think of that, Esli." Eslington lightly tapped Omi on the arm with his staff in a mock-attack. "Thou shalt not call me Esli," he said, grinning. ****** Improfanfic presents: Improperly Episode 19: Hie thee to a fish 'n' chippery! Originally created by W4. This part by Eslington, of Epileptic Spider Productions. ****** "Oooh, baby!" H purred in the darkness of the closet. "Just like that!" Mr. Shattuck laughed, trying to disguise the psychotic overtones of his voice. Suddenly, a white light flashed through the closet and the war cry of, "H!!! GET OUT OF MY BODY!!!" rang through the small enclosure. Aaron continued whatever it was he was doing. Myth was dazed for a few moments, but soon regained her composure and took a look around the place of her imprisonment. Then she looked down. "AARON!!! GET! OFF! MY! LEG!!!" Myth attempted to shake the psychotic Impro master from her leg to no avail. She looked to the left. She looked to the right. She spotted a coat hanger. Shattuck saw it as well. "Oo! Fun! Do you have any squirrels?" Myth took this moment of distraction to get away. Far away. As far as the wall would let her go. Aaron contented himself with playing with the coat hanger. "Now what would happen if this went ther-- OUCHIES! MY COLON!!! Wow..." Myth sighed. "Aiyah... I hope I can find a way out of here..." *** Deep in the cavernous basement of Chez Impro, Evil was being conducted on a grand scale. Or, more accurately, on John Evans. "A comfy chair?" he asked as the High Commander led him off to another part of the basement. "Yes! No one can stand up the terrible torture of..." Chris paused for dramatic effect, "THE COMFY CHAIR!" A spotlight suddenly switched on, illuminating a large, comfortable looking armchair, which had a small green button set in the right armrest. Chris cackled evilly. A small sweatdrop came into existence on John's forehead. "Uh, Chris, I'm...a bit busy at the moment," he said. "And I know the whole Monty Python routine almost by heart, anyway. Is there any way I can get out of this?" "No!" replied Chris. "You must be seated in the chair, where you shall remain until you admit to your crimes!" John looked at his 'captor' for a moment, and then sat down on the chair...which turned out to be, as promised, quite comfy. "Your show of masochistic bravery stuns even me, Mister Evans!" sneered Chris, sadistically. "But even you shall crack eventually! And after you can stand the comfy chair no longer... press the green button, and I shall return to extract your confession from you!" John gazed at his captor some more...and then reached in his bag, and pulled out-- A book. Specifically, 'Textual Poachers' by Henry Jenkins. "I guess if you insist," he said, settling back in the chair. "Oh...if you see Chaos-san, could you tell her that I'm sorry that I can't help her on the scavenger hunt, anymore?" "Very well," Chris cackled to himself as he strode off, intent on finding Epsilon so that they could finish their villainy contest. *** "Tsk, tsk," Stephica tsked, heels clicking on the floor as she walked towards Roe, still bound to the bed under the obnoxious neon mistletoe. "You should have known something was up when imootochan insisted you have a Coke rather than a Dr. Pepper." Roe looked up at her as she came into his field of vision, eyes wild. "You... you aren't going to hurt me, are you?" The woman winked. "Only if you ask me to," she purred. "Please let me go..." "Now, where's the fun in that?" Stephica sat down on the edge of the bed, prodding his bonds curiously. She flared her Aura for a moment, saw Roe's eyes glaze over, then sighed and dropped it completely. Roe shook off the effects of the flare. "Are you okay?" he asked her, noticing her change of mood. "What good is this power if it's only temporary?" she muttered to herself. She raised her voice. "I'll be fine," she told Roe. "Actually, I just wanted to talk." Roe blinked. "Couldn't you have just asked me?" "This called for more... extreme measures. It's been very difficult to pin you down around here, you know." Roe flailed his hands, realising that his bonds were suspiciously comfortable, if not loose. "Well, you've got my attention now. Talk. Communicate." "I'm sorry about all this, to begin with," Stephica patpatted his leg. Roe twitched. "Ah, sorry, forgot you were... heh. Nevermind." She folded her arms across her chest. "Really, I just wanted to know what you were about to say when Phoebe interrupted us." "What I was... what?" She narrowed her eyes. "You don't remember?" Roe flailed again. "I've been kinda distracted, busy, you know, with being an Admin and Phoebe's EVIL plan and-" "And video games and caffeine and all, yes yes, I know," Stephica dismissed his excuses with a wave of her hand. "It must not have been important then." She stood up, straightening her dress. "Wait!" Roe cried. "I remember now!" "Oh, do you now?" Stephica's voice had gone back to a purr. "Yes, yes, I remember," Roe babbled. "Please, sit back down, here, next to me, please?" He gave her the Puppy Dog Eyes(tm). With a predatory smile, Stephica sat back down beside him, hands folded chastely (that's a joke, right? Right?) in her lap. Roe was encouraged. "Now, could you untie my hands?" Stephica just looked at him. "I can't go anywhere with my feet still tied. And you're sitting right here. Please?" Stephica considered this for a moment, then shrugged and untied the silk stockings that had been oh so carefully tied into Boy Scout-precise knots. Roe rotated his wrists a few times to get the circulation back into his hands, then sat up. The blonde looked at him expectantly. "Steph," Roe said finally, taking her hands in his, "There's something I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. And I got distracted by this whole Party thing, and that whole Strip Chess thing, and the smiting the other guys mightily at Rival Schools thing, and-" His voice trailed off as Stephica's expression grew increasingly more dangerous. He cleared his throat. "What I mean to say is... Steph, would.. would you... wouldyouplayMarcoPolowithme??" There was a moment of silence. Somewhere, a mime died. Finally Stephica smiled. "I... wow, that's really vanilla." She shrugged. "But I don't see why not. Sure, darlin', let's play Marco Polo." "Good," Roe said, smiling and reaching up with one of the silk stockings and tying it over Stephica's eyes. "You can be It first." *** Meanwhile, back in England, Omi No Miko's excitement was growing as Eslington's staff flew over the suburbs of his hometown. "London baby! Whoo!" she cheered. "Actually," corrected Eslington, "the town's called Newcastle." "Newcastle baby! Whoo!" "..." Eslington sweatdropped. "Now Omi, you must remember that here in England we don't speak the same sort of English that you Americans do." "Oh, you mean like "Ho merry yeoman! Whence the way the nearest fish 'n' chippery? For I wish to partake in the consumption of an enjoyable meal with mine companion!" sort of thing?" Again, Eslington sweatdropped. "No, I just meant that people use different sorts of words here." "Like what?" "Well for example, here in England chips are potatoes, cut into strips and then deep fried." "So what do you call chips then?" asked Omi, a little puzzled. "Crisps." "Why?" "Because they're... crisp." "Oh, okay." Eslington gestured towards the ground, where there was a large empty area of land next to a supermarket. "We're here." Eslington brought the staff down until it was hovering three feet off the ground, and then climbed off. After Omi had dismounted, the staff fell out of the air into Eslington's outstretched hand. Omi read the large green sign above the entrance to the supermarket. "Asda... Does Asda stand for anything?" Eslington considered for a moment and then replied "Well, according to the adverts, Asda stands for fresh food at low prices or something." *** Meanwhile, back at the ran^H^H^H^H Chez Impro... "So our ultimate contest of evil is to be..." Epsilon smirked, mockingly. "A mere science fair?" "Ah, but not just any science fair," replied Chris, with his own evil smirk present. "THE MOST EVIL SCIENCE FAIR... EVER!" Far away, in the nearest area where there were actually storm clouds present, thunder rumbled dramatically. Our antagonists couldn't hear it, so the drama was lost on them. Epsilon cackled, evilly. "So be it! Once everyone witnesses the terrible power of my most heinous device, they shall surely all bow down to the awesome intellect of Epsilon! BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Epsilon produced a set of blueprints with mysterious arcane symbols on them and left, cackling evilly. Chris smiled, evilly. "That fool Epsilon," he said to himself, grinning villainously. "Soon he shall crushed by my vast intellect! BWA- HAHAHAHAHA!" *** Epsilon ascended the stairs, blinking in the slightly brighter light of the ground floor. "That fool Chris," he said to himself, grinning villainously. "Soon he shall crushed by my vast intellect! BWA- HAHAHAHAHA!" *** The sweetly sad notes of the violin poured through Chez Impro like a waterfall, causing many of the guests to stop and listen reverentially for a moment. Following the sound, Hottcoffee happened upon the door of a closet. "That's just odd!" she said to herself quietly. "Why would someone be playing violin in the closet?" On the other side of the door, Myth handled the ancient piece of carved wood with masterful skill, producing note after beautiful note from the instrument. Aaron's voice could be faintly heard over the instrument's tonality. "Hey! If you put on these bunny ears, do you think I could chase you around and attempt to rip your head off?" "SCREEE!!!" said the violin. "DAMMIT SHATTUCK!!! I'M TRYING TO VENT MY FRUSTRATION WITHOUT GOUGING YOUR EYES OUT!!!--" "Oo, fun!" Shattuck interjected. "...please let me play in peace, Aaron. Please." HottCoffee pressed her ear to the door. "Myth-chan! Is that you?!" Myth looked up and launched herself at the door in perfect glomp form. "Coffee! Let me out of here! Please?!" HottCoffee looked thoughtful. "On one condition." "Yes. Anything!!! ...well, almost anything." "I want you to get H exorcised. I'm pretty sure you could find someone to do that." "Gladly! Now get me out of here!!!" HottCoffee smiled to herself as she bent over to tamper with the locks on the door... then frowned. Damn, they had taken a lot of precautions to make sure she stayed in there... Finally, after about fifteen minutes, the door opened with a click. Myth launched herself out of the room at Mach-3, her newfound violin coming with her. Myth glomped onto HottCoffee out of fear. "Welcome back, Mythy!" HottCoffee winked. Aaron noticed that there was light falling on his face. "Hey! Can I come?" "[NO,]" the two girls said simultaneously. "Ok. Bye then!" Aaron waved as the door creaked to a close, the locks snapping as soon as the door was back in place. Both girls sweatdropped, then went on their search for an Impro- exorcist. *** In Newcastle, England, at the Jesmond Fish 'n' chippery, there worked a young man, Timothy North, who was quite possibly the most bishounen male in existence. If he ever chanced to meet Omi no Miko, one of the most fangirlish females in existence, then the reaction caused by their proximity would produce a tear in the space-time continuum that would cause the entire solar system to explode in a burst of grape jello. Fortunately Timothy wasn't at work that day because he had a cold, so he and Omi never met and the world was safe. (But for how long?) "Well," said Eslington, pushing a large shopping trolley filled with several dozen packages of fish and chips, "that's the fish and chips then." Omi, who was pushing a smaller trolley filled with one hundred and fifty boxes of chocolate fingers, nodded. "Anything else we should get?" "Grape jello?" "Omi, you've got tons of grape jello back at the party." "You can never have too much grape jello!" "Besides, they don't sell jello here." Omi was shocked. "No jello?" "Nope, none." [Because it's called jelly instead,] he thought with a smile. "We'd better go back to the party." Eslington nodded and raised his staff, chanting in a long forgotten arcane language (again). [I hope this works,] he thought to himself. [I've never teleported this much matter before...] Omi, Eslington and the trolleys vanished in a burst of dark blue light and a rush of hot air. "Now there's something you don't see every day," noted a passerby. "What?" asked his companion. "A girl carrying a ladder." His companion sweatdropped. *** In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, there is an island. Which is hardly surprising. It's a big ocean, so it's bound to have loads of islands. Only one island however, contained two people who were relevant to the plot. "So," started DamienRoc, "we'll phone them. Do you have a mobile in your stuff?" Steve blinked. "Actually, I don't. Do you have one?" "No." "And this island doesn't look very technologically advanced..." There was a pause as they looked around the island - a lovely beach, the soothing sound of the surf washing up against the beach, trees waving in the distance... But a complete absence of phones. The ordinary silence was followed closely by a dramatic pause, and then a dramatic pose. "Then, we must search for a phone!" And thus the Great Telephone Quest had begun. *** ColdFury walked back into Chez Impro, searching for TwoFlower, intent on defeating his rival for the much sought after position of being the #1 Dan-fan. Having searched the GGG for him, with no success, he decided to check the now-redundant Playstations that were set up inside, in case the imitator had decided to return to them for some reason. Needless to say, he did not find Twoflower there. However he did find Epsilon, sitting beside three Playstations, building some sort of device out of parts stolen from the consoles. "Hey Epsilon hav-" began ColdFury, before Epsilon spun around, facing him with a dramatic pose. "So! You have found me! And caught me in the process of constructing the most evil device known to man! I expect you want to know what my ingenious creations does?" "Actually, I-" "Well, I'll tell you!" Interrupted Epsilon. "With the parts of these abandoned game consoles I have constructed a -reality- enforcer!" Epsilon interrupted himself with an evil cackle. "That's right fool, this device will -enforce- RL physics and other effects on everyone in its radius. It will -destroy- Improparty! All those 'Improbabes' will be reverted to their -actual- RL appearance and ages, with none of the anime abilities they have gained such as sex auras and chibification! Heck, some may turn out NOT to be women." He paused for another cackle. "As for the men, they too will lose their ability to do neat crap. No more Hammerspace, no more mystic pocket dimensions, no more teleporting or piloting giant robots. No more zombies or playful violence or anything else! They will become -actual- people! Nothing can stop it! BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Unnoticed to Epsilon, ColdFury had left halfway through his monologue, in search of his rival. *** Omi was hugging her ladder protectively, as she, Eslington, her ladder and the trolleys fell towards Chez Impro from several hundred metres above the ground. Eslington was panicking. Not only had he messed up the depth setting on his spell, but he'd also overestimated the amount of magic necessary to transport his companion and their cargo of unhealthy food. Excess magic sparked from his staff, which was glowing a malevolent shade of deep purple. The ladder, shopping trolleys, chocolate fingers and fish 'n' chips, being nonsentient unliving objects, were not scared in the slightest. Eslington considered his options. Absorbing energy into his staff to slow his fall, like last time, would be suicidally stupid. Using the umbrella setting would be too risky, given the staff's highly charged state. However, there was one final possibility that might ensure that he, Omi and the food would reach the ground intact. Muttering in an arcane language (for the third time this episode) Eslington pointed his staff towards the ground... *** "Heh heh hee..." giggled Rain madly, as he wandered around, clutching his newfound slingshot. "Must find grape jello... heh..." He gibbered incoherently for a few minutes, but you presumably don't want to hear the ramblings of a madman (Then why are you reading this? -Ed.) so this monologue has been cut, with the exception of the bit at the end. "...until the name Mordling is completely obscured... hee hee... jello... huh?" Rain looked up. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a wild uncontrolled burst of magic heading directly towards him. A second later, he was gone. *** The blast of magic decreased the speed of Eslington's fall. As Omi fell past him he grabbed her arm. By a stroke of good fortune, the legs of Omi's ladder (which she was still clutching protectively) hooked under the handles of the trolleys, saving Eslington and Omi from the horrible fate of a wasted shopping trip. The energy flow from the staff decreased, and the otaku (plus cargo) landed safely on the ground. Eslington breathed a sigh of relief. "What's that?" asked Omi, pointing to Rain's dropped slingshot. "A slingshot," replied Eslington, a concerned expression crossing his face. "Oh my, I hope I didn't hit anyone with that blast of magic..." "Why?" "Well if somebody got hit with that much magical energy from the staff then they'll probably be teleported to a random location somewhere on earth. They could wind up anywhere! At thirty thousand feet, in the core of a nuclear reactor..." "Or worse?" guessed Omi. "Nah," replied Eslington, "there's few places worse to turn up than the core of a nuclear reactor..." Don't you just love foreshadowing? *** "Marco!" "Polo!" *shuffleshuffle* "Marco!" "[NOOKIE]!" A giggle. "...Marco!" ... "Marco!" ... "MAR-" *whump* "Whoa, HELLO!" Another giggle. "Pole.. Oh! Oh... oh.. Oh my..." *** Kate stared at the row of empty bottles sitting on the bar in front of her. Motioning to Lawrence (who was stuck tending bar while Ravi was, erm, busy), she called out, "Gimme another one. And something for my friend here, too!" She turned to the occupant of the barstool next to hers. "What would you like?" "Meow!" Ura mewed enthusiastically. "A bowl of milk for my new pal!" she specified. Shaking his head, Lawrence fetched a bottle for Kate and a bowl of milk for Ura, then went off to see if he could get someone else to take over for him. This was seriously putting a cramp on his lurking. Besides, that many bottles of A&W Cream Soda couldn't be good for anyone, and he didn't want to be around to witness the results. Kate popped the cap of the bottle and took a long sip, feeling the effects of the sugary-caffeine-y goodness coursing through her veins. "I'm having a pretty good time here," she stated. "But I wanna do something really fun for everybody. I mean, I'm not gonna get to meet that many people if I just sit around here. No offence, Ura." "Mrrow," Ura purred understandingly. Kate thought for a few minutes, then suddenly jumped up. "I know exactly what I should do! This'll be great! Thanks for your help!" Cream soda in hand, she scratched Ura behind the ears before rushing off to put her plan into action. Ura watched the strange but pretty nice human run off before resuming his snack. ***** A little while later, a multitude of fliers appeared in Chez Impro. THE FIRST ANNUAL W4 MEMORIAL TRIPLE TRIAD TOURNAMENT! FUN! PRIZES! SEE KATE FOR DETAILS. And all throughout Chez Impro, some saw this and began to prepare for the great challenge. (But most people just looked at the flyer and said, "Triple WHAT?") *** Lusipher wiped his hands on the front of the labcoat, wishing for some Lava soap and maybe a wire brush. It made his skin crawl just thinking about how close he'd been to Aaron Shattuck. He could smell the carnage, the sheer destructive force, of that deranged author on himself, it was all around him, suffusing him. Heady. He almost liked it. "Hey there," someone said at his elbow. "That's my labcoat." Lusipher looked down (did we mention how tall he is? No? TALL! Tall, I tell you!) to see Jonatan tugging on the sleeve of the aforementioned article of clothing. He smirked. "Leave off, naked boy, it's my coat now." "Thief!" said Jonatan with a frown, which soon turned to a smirk. "But you'll suffer for that..." "...'Do Not Press Red Button Under any Circumstances'," Lus read aloud from a tag on the sleeve. He nodded to himself. Jonatan sighed and wandered off purposefully (a difficult feat to achieve), plotting vengeance of some description. "...'For Added Fun, Press the Green Button while Hopping on One Foot and Singing "Camptown Ladies" but Omitting any Middle-C's'," Lus continued to read as he walked out of the living room, heading for the attic. He had just mounted the stairs when he heard shrieking coming from an upstairs room, and he picked up his pace. The shrieking was coming from a bedroom door about a third of the way down the hall. Lusipher approached the door slowly, afraid to open it, then on a whim decided to press the Green Button on the labcoat while humming "Camptown Ladies", but he stopped for breath before he reached the chorus- *shazoop* Slightly disoriented, Lusipher took a moment to just STARE at his surroundings, thinking he'd arrived in some new circle of Hell. He silently cursed Jonatan's name, damning the bandanna'ed Swede to spending eternity in a pink tutu complete with feathery headpiece and glittery makeup. "Lus!" someone squawked. "Get me OUT of here!" The source of the frantic plea was a man tied to a swivel chair, a gag which had apparently slipped from his mouth hanging loosely around his neck, as well as a pair of stereo headphones. "Holy effeminate crooners, Twoflower, what happened to you?" Lusipher took a better look around the room, realising he was indeed in the bedroom that he'd been standing outside of not a few moments before. He felt overwhelmed and disgusted by the d‚cor, which would probably haunt his dreams for months afterwards. Boy band posters covered the walls, the ceiling. Cardboard cutouts of this week's prepubescent pretty-boy singers stood in mock-phalanx fashion around the room. The CD rack next to the stereo carried boy group titles from as far back as the original Menudo to more recent (but no less young and obviously recruited for their good looks) 4-part harmony choirboys. "Phoebe... her EVIL plan..." Twoflower bounced in the chair, anxious now that he had a saviour. "Please, get me out of here!" "This," Lusipher said, "Is very, very disturbing." He picked up a NKOTB doll (the Jordan one, no less) and eyed it dangerously. Then he slipped it into one of the labcoat's pockets. "Lus!" "Yeah, I'll help, bossman, just a sec here." Lusipher leaned over and untied the suffering creator of creamy Impro goodness, who immediately leapt from the chair and bolted from the room with nary a thanks. Lusipher was left holding a length of nylon rope and the headphones. Curiously, he lifted the headphones to his ears. "MMbop, ba do ba dop, ba doowap..." "GAH!" Lusipher yelped, dropping the headphones as if they were a box of half-starved crazed weasels. He jumped back three feet, took a deep breath, then backed slowly from the room and closed the door carefully. As he stepped into the hall, the long-unseen Anko wandered by and looked at the door curiously. Lusipher, slightly wild eyed, shook his head at Anko. "Do NOT go in there." And he continued down the hall, back strangely stiff and gait that of a zombie (but not Zombie Elvis, he has more of a corpselike shamble with a strange pelvic gyration thrown in). He was brought out of his daze by the sounds of moaning and giggling coming from one of the doors along the hallway (did we mention Chez Impro looks a lot like a Ramada on the inside? We didn't? Maybe we should have, but since this insert-author didn't have the authority to do so until now, the others have been remiss). Lusipher stopped in front of the door, pressing his ear to the wood. His face slowly went from somewhat numbly horrified to a furious shade of blush. He moved away from the door, fingering the buttons and tags on the labcoat and wondering what to do with the damnable thing next, trying desperately to forget about the sounds he heard on the other side of that bedroom door. A few steps later, and his ear was pressed against yet another door. More of the same- moans, yelps, giggles, someone yelling "Marco!" [Marco??, Lusipher thought to himself, there's no one named Marco here]- and he sighed heavily while still fingering the labcoat in frustration. "Everyone is getting some but me," he remarked to no one in particular. On the heels of that, unbidden, came the words to that mesmerising song he'd heard: "MmmBOP!" Lusipher stopped. Had he just said that? Out loud? "Dee doo de bow dow..." He clamped a hand over his mouth, but the words remained in his head. His eyes rolled wildly, frantic, and he thought immediately that it had to be the labcoat, the damnable thing, and he moved to tear it off. His right thumb caught the Sparkly Purple Button (not to be confused with Purple DCM bullets), there was an audible *whoosht*, and then Lusipher felt like himself again. He shook his head (which was now filled with the lyrics to "Everybody") and turned around to retrace his steps to the stairs with a sigh. "Dammit. I wish I could get lucky..." he mumbled to himself. Behind him, a tag labelled "To Get Lucky, Press Sparkly Purple Button while Thinking any Hanson Lyrics and Carrying a Jordan Knight Doll" fluttered to the ground. *** "o/~ Careful what you wish Careful what you say Careful what you wish You may regret it Careful what you wish You just might get it Then- o/~" "Steve, why are you singing?" "I dunno," responded Steve, his singing interrupted. "I just felt like it for some reason." Steve and DamienRoc turned back to the goal of their quest, a large, upright, rectangular blue box that stood atop a high cliff on the eastern side of the island, which instantly recognisable to those familiar with 80s British Sci-fi TV series. "Who would have thought that a small, practically uninhabited island in the middle of the Pacific would have had a telephone?" asked Steve as he and Damien approached the box. "Well, the natives said that just because they were a small tribe on a small island in the middle of the pacific didn't mean they had to be technologically backwards." "Now, let's see, I think I've got the number for Chez Impro somewhere..." *** "Ooh... my head," moaned Rain, looking around the small space he had been moved to. "Where am I? And who are you?" "I'm Aaron Shattuck, and I like squirrels..." He brandished a coat hanger, which glinted evilly in the half-light of the closet. "Wanna know what a squirrel's liver looks like?" *** Lusipher walked down the stairs, clutching his head as the poisonous lyrics echoed through his mind. Meaning he was in no condition to anticipate, or enjoy, the forthcoming glomp. "K-sama!" cried Phoebe, as she leapt at Lus, knocking him to the floor. "Huh?" asked Lusipher intelligently, as Phoebe's hold tightened around his waist. "I've always wanted to meet you, K-sama!" said Phoebe, brushing Lus' dark hair away from his face. [K-sama?] thought Lus. [Wait a minute, I'm blonde, not dark haired!] Something was amiss. Rooting through the pockets of the labcoat he brought out a spork and looked at his reflection in the metal. Looking back, was the reflection of a dark, mysterious man with spiky black hair and green eyes. Then the realisation hit him. He had been turned into Kevin Richardson. A member of the Backstreet Boys. *** Eslington blinked and looked up from the buffet table, where he had constructed a rather nice looking model of a log cabin out of chocolate fingers. He turned to Omi No Miko, who was busy eating a small portion of chips. "Hey Omi," he began. "Did you hear a loud soul-rending scream that speaks of tremendous misfortune and tragic occurrences ring throughout the house?" "No," replied Omi. "Huh, must've been my imagination." *** That's it! Tune in next time for even more exciting adventures at Chez Impro, same Impro time, same Impro URL. *** Steve Scougall: On an island in the pacific DamienRoc: On an island in the pacific ColdFury: Chez Impro Chris: Basement W4: Dead - In the iceberg. Iron Chef Chen Kenichi: Kitchen Nick: Living Room Anko: Chez Impro Yun Cheolsu: Out Cold - Game Room BlackMage: living room Kate Malloy: Chez Impro Twoflower: Chez Impro Squall: Basement Hottcoffee: Chez Impro Myth: Chez Impro Tameran: Living Room Stephica: Bedroom - with Roe Omi no Miko: Chez Impro Delfina: Wheel of Fortune Parking Lot Phoebe: Chez Impro Ardweden: Chez Impro Keith Richards: Dead - Bar Ura: Bar Roe: Bedroom - with Stephica Jess: Chez Impro somewhere Chaos: Basement Lusipher: Chez Impro Zombie Elvis: Still Dead - Bar Kimberli: Chez Impro Calculus: Chez Impro Eternal Lost Lurker: Bar Lawrence: Chez Impro Rain: In the closet, with Aaron Shattuck Wang Tu Chun Out cold - Bedroom Eslington: Chez Impro Jonatan: Chez Impro Epsilon: Chez Impro NeoVid: Chez Impro Fatman: Chez Impro Aaron: The beach ? nihility (Eric): The beach ? Illyria: Bedroom - with Ravi ^_^ Ravi: Bedroom - with Illyria ^_^ Aaron Shattuck Closet - with Rain Jake: Chez Impro Blade: Chez Impro Mecha Tom Green: San Diego ? Todd: Hunting down bishounens Dan: Wheel of Fortune Parking Lot Dragon: Front Yard Random: GGG Katy: Chez Impro somewhere Ragnorak: With Todd, hunting down bishounens. Leonardo DiCaprio: Dead??? Please. *** Author's notes: Go shopping, return library books, find some way to subtly ask people to sign up for Scarlett Marquee, record Tenchi Muyo. First off, I'd like to thank the many people who contributed ideas, and occasionally whole scenes to this episode: Myth Stephica Rain Kate Malloy Phoebe Steven Scougall Epsilon Lusipher Without them, this part would be MUCH worse. Secondly, I'd like to thank my wonderful team of pre-readers: Phoebe John Evans Steven Scougall Jonatan Streith Myth And finally I'd like to thank Phoebe for making me sign up for this. *AHEM* THANKS! C&C to me at: eslington@bigfoot.com