Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and its characters and settings belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Kitty, and Viz Video. Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon belongs to Takeuchi Naoko, Koudansha, TV Asahi, and Toei Douga, and DIC.

Disguised as an inconspicuous substitute teacher, the creature named Youma Fortranda strolled the halls of Furinkan High School. She went completely unnoticed as she passed the various classes, completing the necessary preparations to drain all of the energy out of the exceptionally gifted early-morning students.

Fortranda paused to peek in on the Advanced Placement Physics class. The classroom had a very ergonomic design, spread out in a quarter-circle. At the front, the instructor taught, using a chalkboard and an electronically controlled overhead projector.

"Hmmm… soda can," one student in the front row muttered. Everyone ignored him.

"So you see," the slightly-purple-skinned teacher explained, pointing things out on the chalkboard with a long stick and his voice vibrating slightly as he spoke, "contrary to what they may have taught you in elementary school, all true scientists know this one simple fact: In space, constant thrust equals constant velocity."

The bulky teacher wrote the equations on the board. "Repeat it with me: Constant thrust equals constant velocity."

"Constant thrust equals constant velocity," all twenty-five advanced placement students replied at once.

"Again."

"Constant thrust equals constant velocity."

"Good. Now, let us move on—"

A hand went up in the back row. "Uhhh, Exedore-sensei? I've got a question!"

"What is it this time, Otaku-san?" the Zentraedi asked, turning around and glaring impatiently at his student.

"I'm not clear on this 'sound in space' thing."

Exedore sighed, glaring at his least intelligent student. "It is very simple. In outer space, there is nothing but a complete vacuum. There is no air."

"Yyyyeah," Otaku-san agreed, slowly nodding along.

"Explosions are therefore louder, since there is no air to get in the way."

"Ooooooooh," the student said, "it all makes sense now."

"But what about the soda can?" the ignored individual in the front row asked again.

"The offensive use of a soda can was first witnessed in nineteen eighty-six, during the alien attack on Graviton City." Exedore clicked a button on the remote control for the overhead projector, bringing up a slide of the incident in question. With a red laser pointer, he indicated the part of the image with the soda can in it. "Apparently, the aliens were armed with Pepsi missiles."

From the doorway, Fortranda waved her hand at the students. Wisps of a cloud-like energy rose off of them.

Exedore yawned slightly while his students grew weary, slumping down onto their desks.

Youma Fortranda snickered malevolently and moved on to the next class. On the door, it read: Advanced Placement Home Economics.

The entire classroom was full of cooking utensils: pots and pans were neatly arranged on metal hangers while Senior, Junior, and Sophomore girls attempted to cook various pieces of unidentified foodstuffs in very unorthodox methods.

One girl, a shorthaired blonde that looked like she should have been in elementary school, stepped toward the front of the class, merrily holding up a closed bentou-lunchbox-thing and offering it to the teacher. "I finished my midterm, Sensei!" she announced in an overly cute, high-pitched voice.

"Excellent, Shiko-san," the teacher replied, smiling in return. "I'll grade it right now so that you won't have to wait."

Shiko jumped up and down in delight. "Waaaaai!"

The teacher turned toward her assistants, three very nervous-looking boys.

"I-I-I—" the eldest boy stuttered, waving his hands frantically. "No, please!"

"No, no, no!" the second cried.

"Can't I just have detention instead?" the third pleaded.

The teacher shook her head. "No, school policy is very strict on this. Tanaka-san, please grade Shiko's assignment."

The third assistant gulped very hard, then took the lunchbox, unhooked the clasp and opened it.

*Screoooow!* Screee!* Scree!* Scrooow!* Kreeee!* Tanaka held the box at arms-length as restless spirits of the undead screamed out in a foul wind, flying past his face and disappearing into the air.

The eldest assistant offered him a blindfold. The other offered him a cigarette. Tanaka held up his hand, refusing them.

Tanaka was handed a pair of chopsticks. He gingerly impaled what appeared to be a slice of sushi, lifted it up, took several deep breaths, placed it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He braced himself for the inevitable.

Shiko smiled proudly, holding her hands behind her back.

After a few moments, Tanaka opened one eye, followed by the other, surprised that he was still alive. "Hey," he ventured to say, "this isn't half bad." The teacher's assistant took another bite, then another and soon he had gobbled down the entire meal. "That was great! I loved it, Shiko-chan!"

Shiko blinked. "You did?"

Tanaka nodded vigorously. "Yeah!"

The poor little blonde frowned. "B-b-but, but, but… I studied and everything!"

The teacher sighed sadly and shook her head. "Shiko, what am I going to do with you? This is the third test you've failed so far in the course!"

"There must be something wrong!" Shiko tried to protest.

"Do you WANT to grow up to play a MINOR role in society, young lady?" the teacher berated her student. "If so, just keep making edible food and you will! Important people shouldn't cook well!"

Shiko turned around, sniffled, then went off to sit in the corner, weeping sadly to herself. "But… I tried to!"

"Why can't you be more like Belldandy?" the instructor muttered. "She had trouble starting, but just look at her now!" She pointed to another girl in the class.

A beautiful, smiling brunette held up a plate full of old chicken bones and rotting flesh, with toxic nuclear waste and old, lukewarm biohazard material pouring out the maggot-eaten holes. "How is this, Sensei?" she asked sweetly.

"That looks right," the teacher agreed. "Kenji-san, grade her assignment, please."

"No! Nooooo!" the eldest assistant pleaded, scooting backwards into his seat, obviously traumatized by past experiences. "Not that! Anything but tha-aaaat!"

"Man," Tanaka whispered, "I'm sure glad Shiko's been failing lately."

The remaining assistant nodded in agreement.

Nobody noticed when their life energy started coming out of their bodies in wispy light-blue clouds. One by one, the students and the teacher collapsed.

"This is too easy," Fortranda whispered in satisfaction as she collected the precious power. She proceeded to the next class, which was labeled: Family Life Curriculum. She peeked in through the propped-open door to watch the teacher explain the facts of life to everyone in the room.

"All right," a tentacle monster at the front of the class explained, and drew the word "Respect" on the chalkboard. "That's what it's all about, y'know: respect, love, and kindness."

"Ooooh," the students awed in unison. All of them were really, really cute, well-proportioned, bouncy females with not-so-smart looks in their great big eyes.

"The point is," the overfiend continued, "you never, ever start one of those relationships unless you've taken into consideration the consequences of your actions." He sighed, tying back one of his stray tentacles with a pink ribbon. "You get so many unwanted things, like children that can't be supported. Adoption's always traumatic for the poor kids, and abortions are… Well, they're just. Plain. Wrong!" He shuddered at the very thought.

A girl in the front row raised a hand, accompanied by a quick bounce that would have turned any fourteen-year-old male beet red.

The teacher pointed at her. "Yes, Maron-san?"

"Ummm, Fiend-sensei? We were all discussing this among ourselves for a while, and we want to know something."

"What?"

"Can we get extra credit if we demonstrate an advanced understanding of the subject?"

The tentacle monster froze. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Yes!" all the other girls agreed, bouncing up and down in agreement. "Let us demonstrate!"

The tentacle monster took a step backwards. "No, just stick to the course materials and you'll all do fine."

"Noooooo," the girls protested. "We want to demonstrate!"

The female students stood and started advancing toward their teacher. "Demonstration!" they cried, "Demonstration!"

"But no!" the teacher protested, frantically waving his tentacles, "I could lose my job!"

"Let us demonstrate!"

Wisps of life energy wafted off of all the individuals present.

The girls slumped to the floor, inches away from their teacher.

The overfiend trembled in horror before fainting in relief.

From the doorway, the youma gathered the energy in her right hand and started to walk off. "Good," Fortranda whispered, taking a few steps back, "but the teacher looked odd for a human being…"

"Stop!" someone called.

Youma Fortranda looked down the hallway to see a cap-wearing, grey-uniformed Furinkan hall monitor running toward her, waving his hand. "Yes, what is it?"

Drawing close, the monitor spoke to her in an authoritative English accent, "You there! I don't recognize you."

"Isn't it obvious?" Fortranda laughed. "I am a dangerous youma that has just drained the energy out of all your students! Ha hah ha ha haaaa!"

"Yes, yes, that's what the whole school system is about: draining the youth of all their energy," the monitor shot back impatiently. "Now let me see your identification, young woman."

Fortranda grinned evilly. "Here's my identification!"

*Unnnh!* Dozens of students from the drained classes ran out into the hallway, sweeping toward the unsuspecting hall monitor.

"Wait!" the uniformed man ordered, holding a hand out at the boys and girls. "Stop!"

*Grrrowl!* The zombified teenagers roared, grabbing the monitor's arms and legs, pummeling him into unconsciousness.

Fortranda laughed pityingly. "Dumb humans."

*WARK-WARK-WARK!* The klaxon of an alarm sounded and red lights flashed along the hallway walls.

Another hall monitor rushed down a flight of stairs.

"Ooooh, another one," Youma Fortranda commented. "But I don't want any distractions while I get this energy to Jadeite." She held out her hand and the thick steel door leading from the stairs to the hallway slammed shut, additionally barricaded by a few rows of lockers, which slid over to cover the entrance.

The zombified teenagers groaned and lined up along the hallway.

Fortranda held her hands together, transmitting the energy she had gathered to her beloved general.

A ball of swirling energy quickly gathered into Jadeite's outstretched palm. He demonstrated it to his queen. "Beryl-sama, as you see, in a short while, we will have enough power to fend off even the Outer Senshi, should that become necessary."

"Excellent work, General," Beryl complimented her lackey.

Suddenly, the ball of energy ceased to grow.

Jadeite frowned. "What…?"

Fortranda stopped her transmission of the humans' energy when she noticed something odd about the blockade she had created. It was shaking and glowing red in the center. "What could that—?"

*HISSSSSSSSSSS!* Sparks danced around the lockers for a second and the metal began to sizzle.

*BLAAAAAAM!* The entranceway exploded open, bits of broken and oxidized metal flying inward. Dust and smoke engulfed the area.

*BJRR!* BJRR!* BJRR!* Red laser bolts blazed through the smoke. They struck several students, flooring them.

White-armored, masked Stormtroopers fought their way in, firing their black laser rifles at everything that moved.

*BZRR!* BZRR!* POWWWW!*

Fortranda's jaw dropped. With a wave of her hand, she sent the possessed students to face this new threat while she ran further down the hallway and around the corner.

*BZRR!* BZRR!* BZRR!* BLAAM!* BZRR!* The barrage of laser blasts continued, taking down more and more possessed students. A couple of them launched themselves at the soldiers, only to be shot down in midair.

"AAARRGGH!" Another student cried, falling limply to the ground as he clutched at a black, smoking wound in his stomach.

*BZRR!* BLAM* BLAM* BLAM* BLAAAAM!*

"Heeeeeeey!" the tentacle fiend whined, running through the middle of the firefight in an attempt to find some cover. "Why's everyone acting so weeeeeiiiirrrd?!"

"Phee-pho-pheeow!" a squat, barrel-shaped overhead projector droid whistled as it followed its master through the firefight. The two safely made it to the next classroom, despite all of the laser beams whooshing by them.

*BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BZRRRR!* BLAM!* The troopers advanced, taking down everyone in sight.

In a few more seconds, it was over. All of the young men and women were down on the floor as the white-clad soldiers rushed forward and continued to secure the area.

*Dahn-dahn-daaaaahn!*

As the dust cleared, a tall, black-clad, caped man with a black, all-covering breathing mask walked through the entrance. He placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed the troopers' handiwork. A few more Stormtroopers followed close behind him.

"Aww, man! Haruka left early to take my Pop over to school?!" Ranma cried. "I wanted to ask 'er about—"

"You can ask her about whatever you like during lunch," Rei said, dragging the boy out of the house. "She goes to the same school, after all." She glanced back at him. "By the way, doesn't it bother you in the least that they're making your father go back to school?"

"Hmm? Well, yeah, a bit," Ranma admitted, taking a moment from planning his future training sessions. He held rested his arms behind his head, trying to get his mind around the concept. "My Pop's going back to fourth grade. I don't think he even made it into high school. Heh. Who knows? It might be good for him."

Rei nodded as she walked alongside the pigtailed boy on their way to Furinkan High. "Yeah, I think it'll be about right for him." She laughed softy at the idea, then tried to picture her own father going back to elementary school, crunched into a tiny desk, waving his right arm frantically in the air to answer a question, alongside a bunch of very disturbed ten-year-olds. "I can imagine your father doing it, but if my father had to do that, I don't know what I'd do." She cringed at the thought.

"But it ain't your pop that's going."

Rei smiled, letting her imagination feast upon all the deliciously embarrassing things that might happen to the poor spore— er, man. "No, it isn't, is it?"

Ranma snorted, folding his arms. "Serves 'em right, after all he put me through."

Rei cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh? What did he ever make you do that you didn't want to do? Besides coming here and getting you engaged to me and my sisters, I mean."

"Lots of stuff!" Ranma replied immediately. He paused, trying to think of a proper response. "There was, like, that trip to Jusenkyo, and we all know how that turned out."

Rei nodded along as she listened.

Ranma, completely oblivious to the girl's rapidly growing grin, continued his explanation, "And then there was all that time we spent away from home, moving from place to place. He made me miss a duel with a friend from school a while back," he started counting the unpleasant circumstances off on his fingers, "when I was six, I had to move away from another friend when his dad gave us his yattai. Then there was that time when he ate the prize in the Amazon village, making ME fight everyone off…"

Rei covered her mouth, trying to conceal her expression.

The pigtailed boy gasped as he remembered another traumatic experience. "Oh yeah! Then there was the time he tied me up, covered me in fish sausages, dried and salted sardines, fish cakes, and then tossed me into a pit full of starving, ravenous c-c-c-c-c-caaaats!" He shuddered, his breathing rapid as he relived his traumatic childhood experience.

The longhaired girl clamped the other hand over her mouth, containing an ever-growing internal force.

"And it wasn't just once," Ranma half-shouted, "it was five, ten, fifteen, a hundred times! And why?! Just so I could learn some stupid technique called the Neko-ken! I learned it, sorta, but from the second my pop tossed me in, those, those THINGS latched onto my face and were bitin' me all over! They were tearin' me apart!"

Suddenly, Tendo Rei fell down. Losing her grip on her mouth, she burst out laughing.

Ranma suddenly stopped and glared at her. "Hey! That wasn't funny at all! It was horrible, it was—"

"So," Rei forced out between chuckles, "you — HAH— got tossed — heh — over and over again — hehehe — into a pit of starving cats, greased down and covered in sardines and fish cakes and SAUSAGES?!" She rolled around and laughed some more. "So THAT's why you ran off from that cat earlier today! It all makes sense now! Bwaha ha ha haa haaa!"

"B-b-b-b-but…!" Ranma protested. "IT was AWFUL! Don't you think Pop was bad for doing that to me?! I was only, like, five or six when it happened!"

Unseen by the two, a mysterious bubble popped up behind Ranma's head, containing the image of a cute, tiny, super-deformed Genma with his arms folded. He said, "You were at least ten, and it was only four times, you big crybaby!" Then the bubble puffed away into a thin wisp of white mist. "At least be grateful it wasn't s-s-squirrels!"

"Oh, I'm sure it was hard for you," Rei remarked, nodding and forcing a serious expression for a moment before lapsing back into her chortling funk. "Ha ha ha ha ha!"

The flustered boy glared at the chuckling girl.

After a few moments, Rei managed to collect herself and get back up. She put a hand on Ranma's shoulder and said, "Okay, look, I've just met you, but like Setsuna said: if he hadn't done that, the second you found out about it, you probably would've done it on your own."

Ranma shook his head. "Nooooooo, I WOULDN'T!"

Rei bobbed her head up and down. "Ooooh yes, you would."

Even more flustered than before, the boy clenched his hands at his sides. "I'm not THAT stupid!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Am not!"

"Ha ha ha! Are too!"

Ranma looked down, wedged his eyes shut, and waved a fist an inch from his face. "Ooooh, Reeeeeeeeeei!"

Cutting Ranma off, a voice rang out in the street.

"SAOTOME RANMA, PREPARE TO DIE!!!"

*KRUNCH!* Ranma instinctively sidestepped the surprise attack. He quickly analyzed the strike. First, the weapon: what looked like a perfectly ordinary bamboo umbrella had broken the concrete sidewalk slab that he had been standing on a moment before.

Second: the umbrella was being held by a teenaged boy with short black hair held back by a yellow tiger-striped bandanna. He wore a set of well-used travel gear, including but not limited to a leather jerkin, loose-fitting pants and soft boots. His clenched teeth and pulled-back lips revealed the fact that he had a very nice pair of short fangs for canines.

Third: the attacker seemed to be having trouble prying his umbrella from the sidewalk.

"I don't know this guy," Rei called over to Ranma from several meters away, also having dodged in her own manner. "Is he one of your friends?"

Ranma looked at the aggressor for a moment. He looked familiar, yes, but he couldn't quite place from where. "Uhhhhhhhhh, I dunno!"

"Curse you, Ranma," the boy with the tiger-striped bandanna spat, still trying to pry his weapon out of the ground, "because of you, I have seen HELL!!!"

"Really?" the pigtailed teen asked, folding his arms. "Don't tell me the 'spore' engaged me to you, too?"

"GRRRRRRRRRR!!!" Ranma's attacker growled, fire burning in his eyes. "And you're STILL mocking me!" He wrenched his umbrella out of the ground and stepped toward Ranma, swinging his weapon fast and hard at his target.

Ranma casually stepped backward, out of the way of the offending parasol's repeated passings. When he finally neared a wall close to the sidewalk, he jumped over a swing of the umbrella, held out his hand against the other boy's forehead and stood horizontally against the bricks.

Blind with rage, the bandannaed boy leaned forward, struggling against the force holding him back, the wild melee passing well below his prey.

"It looks like he has something personal against you," Rei noted from a safe distance.

"No kidding," Ranma replied, holding back his attacker. "Wow," he commented at his opponent's complete incompetence, "you must really be angry. You're fighting like a preschooler!"

The boy's opponent finally realized what was being done to him. "RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAANNNNMMMMAAAAAAAAAA!!!" He took a step back and pulled the bandanna off of his head, revealing beneath it yet another bandanna of the same pattern and color.

"Neat," Ranma quipped, hopping lightly to the ground. "Do you dress up like a clown and do parties, too?"

"Maybe I'll hire 'em for Haruka's next birthday," Rei laughed carefully, backing off a little more, just in case.

If the attacker was angry before, then that anger was a sweet, romantic honeymoon in comparison to his current level of rage. He looked between Rei and Ranma with extremely bloodshot eyes, put away his umbrella, yanked off another bandanna and spun them around on his index fingers.

His arms folded, Ranma hummed some circus music, grinning widely.

"GRRRRR!" The fanged boy growled, spinning the bandannas faster and faster until he let them fly simultaneously at both Rei and Ranma.

*ZRRRRRRRRR!!!* The bandannas made the sound of metal cutting through wood as they sped through the air, arcing toward their targets.

*Bzzreow!* Halfheartedly stepping out of the way, Ranma discovered a new shallow cut in his arm and sleeve. "Gah!"

*Bzrow!* Rei stood firm and tilted her head to allow the bandanna to pass without hitting her. She obviously miscalculated, since a tiny tuft of black hair fell to the ground. "Uh oh, I think he's getting serious, Ranma!"

*Thwack!* Ranma dove in close to the other boy and swept his feet out from under him, allowing the bandannaed one to drop.

The traveler boy caught himself by the hands and pushed himself back to his feet. "Hah!"

*KERRACK!* Ranma followed with an uppercut to the chin, hitting just the right spot to confuse his attacker's circulatory system into temporarily shutting off the blood to his brain.

Ranma's opponent stumbled backward for a moment, beginning to wobble. Nevertheless, he dove forward, swinging wildly with his fists. "Curse… you… Ran… ma…"

*Thump* The boy fell to the ground. He was unconscious, but his face still reflected a distinct lack of inner peace.

Triumphant, the pigtailed boy, smiled, clapped twice, looked up at the sky and said, "Thank you!" He walked to stand near Rei, once again continuing their journey to school. "Aaaah, I needed that," he sighed, putting his arms behind his head.

"You are good," Rei complimented her companion. "A lot better than Kuno, at least. He'd have gotten massacred against anyone that could do all that."

Ranma suddenly frowned. "Oh, great, I have to see that dang Kuno-guy again at school, don't I?"

The black-haired girl nodded. "Sure do, but look on the bright side: being your 'knight in shining armor' is better than him thinking he can get a date from you by beating you up."

"And he wants to kill the real me."

"Maybe he'll forget about it."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Ranma shook his head. "They never do…"

Rei considered that. "On second thought, you may be right."

They continued on their way to school.

The boy Ranma had fought awoke a couple of minutes later, the pain in his head serving only to fuel his unquenchable rancor towards the pigtailed martial artist."

"Soon, Ranma," he growled, "soon I will see you SUFFER for all you've put me through!!!"

*VROOM!*Thunk-thunk!* A motorcycle driven by a tall young woman in a boy's school uniform swerved onto the sidewalk and bounced over the boy, leaving a tire mark on his back. "OOF!"

"Bye!" a pink-haired girl in a cutesy white and blue uniform on the back of the bike called back to him, waving with one hand.

The near-roadkill jumped back up and shook his fist at the sky, shouting out in his depression, "Rrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaanmaaaaaaaa, this is all your fault!!!"

"Hey, be careful!" Genma shouted at the motorcycle's driver, hanging on to the older girl's shoulders. "You could've knocked me off!"

"Oh, FORGIVE me, Saotome-sama," Haruka replied in a mock-respectful tone, the gleam of the sun reflecting back at the little girl from the motorcycle helmet. "Like this any better?"

*VROOOOOOOOM!!!* Haruka popped a wheelie and hit a speed bump at sixty miles per hour, flying into the air while wildly spinning around the front axle.

"WAAAAAAH!" Genma cried, her puffy pink cotton candy hair blowing back in the wind. Her legs separated from the seat and she clung horizontally to Haruka for dear life.

*RRRK!*VROOM!* The motorbike screeched a little and wobbled back and forth when it landed, but a little creative maneuvering on Haruka's part kept the balance and speed where they should be.

*Thunk!* Genma popped back into the seat behind the other girl.

On the side of the road, a pair of elderly police officers in a squad car talked among themselves as the mounted pair passed.

"Hey there," the first began, pointing after the motorcyclist, "we better go catch 'em! What they're doing's illegal!"

"What d'ya mean?" the second asked. "Having two girls on a one-seater and speeding in a school zone or having that big pink hairdo?"

"Sure got me there!"

"Oh ho ho ho!" the two laughed, mockingly pointing at the focus of their joke.

Furinkan Stormtroopers led away the injured students at gunpoint, marching them off toward detention. The teenagers had their hands placed on their heads in a gesture of surrender.

"But we were being mind-controlled!" one student protested, wishing he could at least rub the laser-blasted pock-mark in his shoulder so that maybe he could tone down the horrible stinging sensation permeating the entire right half of his body.

One of the Stormtroopers behind them snorted and replied in his digitally filtered voice, "That old excuse isn't going to work this time, kid."

"But it's true!" Shiko protested in her typical, absurdly high-pitched tone.

"It is!" Hiroshi added.

"Yeah!" Daisuke agreed.

"Ask us if we care."

"Do you care?" Belldandy, completely devoid of any guile, ventured to ask.

*Thump!* The lead troopers nudged the rear students along with the butt of their rifles and replied, "No!"

"Delinquent scum," another trooper commented with disgust.

The vice principal had Fortranda by the neck, lifting her over a foot off the ground as he began the interrogation.

"ACK… ACK!" choked Fortranda, grasping at the man's wrists.

A nearby hall monitor came close and reported, "The drawn energy is not inside this wing, and no transmissions other than hers were made."

The black-clad man turned his attention back to the youma. "Where are those emissions you intercepted?" he asked in a deep, terrifying voice that only a Dark Lord of the Sith could possibly hope to manage. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THAT ENERGY?!"

"I— ACK! Don't know about any energy," the youma lied, not letting her disguise drop for one instant. "I'm — ACK!!! — just a part-time teacher, subbing for — AAAAH! — Professor Tomoe!" She frantically pried at her captor's unyielding fingers with both hands, her eyes bulging from the pressure.

The vice-principal tightened his grip, horribly disdainful of those that would DARE lie to him. "If you are a substitute, then WHERE IS YOUR PERMISSION SLIP?!"

Youma Fortranda flailed around in agony as the force on her neck became unbearable. "ACK-ACK-ACK!"

*Crack-Crack!* Several vertebrae in the youma's neck fragmented and her expression went blank. Her disguise faded, revealing her true form as a gaunt, shriveled-up grey female monster.

*THUD* The black-clad man threw the dead creature to the floor. Upon impact, it turned into a fine grey powder and vanished.

"Hall monitor!" The vice-principal turned to face one of his men.

"Yes, Vice-Principal Vader!"

"TEAR THIS WING APART AND BRING ME THE INSTIGATORS. I WANT THEM ALIVE!!!"

"At once, sir!"

"And hall monitor," Vice-Principal Vader added, just as the jall monitor had taken out his mobile phone.

"Yes, sir!"

"I meant that figuratively. The Principal will be most displeased if he has to rebuild the school again this month."

The hall monitor quickly pocketed his phone. "Y-yes, Vice Principal."

Rei poked her head through the smoking entrance hole, frowned and backed out, covering Ranma's eyes and leading him out by the hand. "Uhhhhhhh, we're going to take that other route to class today, okay?"

"Why?" Ranma asked, puzzled.

"It's the vice-principal. He's rather… harsh on tardy students."

"What does he do? Make people stand outside of class, holding buckets of water? Gives them bad haircuts or something stupid like that?"

"No, he freezes them in carbonite and sends them to see the Principal."

"…"

"Yeah, that's what I said when I first heard about it."

To be continued…

Author's notes: What? Everyone saw that one coming, right? I mean, it's the only logical solution!

Anyone that sees something that needs fixin', by all means, don't keep it to yourself!

Until later…

Benjamin A. Oliver
boliver@email.arizona.edu

Webmaster: Larry F
Last revision: January 7, 2006