Furniture Warriors PART FIFTEEN: Nothing Suspicious Here! or Love and Ice Cream! (Formerly) A Spoof Chase Production NOW An ImproFanfic Production, Thanks To Me (http://pixelscapes.com/improfanfic) A Furniture Warriors ImproFanfic created by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne Episode 15, written by NeoVid, who probably should have stuck to doing MSTings, and still can't believe some people think his name has a space in it. (All characters copyright Nihana-san, obviously. If I ever even considered claiming that these were my own characters I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where I'd be forced to eat my own hentai riffs to live.) Special thanks to Omi No Miko for putting up with all my crap. ______________________________________________________________________ POINTLESS RECAP Even though you've never heard of them, Furniture Warriors are considered the greatest fighters in any universe. That's saying something, since there are so damn many of them (Universes I mean. If there were that many Furniture Warriors, you would have heard of them by now). Anyway, the fate of one of those universes is going to be decided at the FURNITURE WARRIORS TOURNAMENT. Well, I assume it is. You sure won't find out in this chapter. A whole heck of a lot of them have gathered (or been gathered) in this freaky pocket dimension, and are battling the servants of the Ottoman Empire and each other, presumably for a good reason. LAST TIME: The scheduled writer screwed me over by skipping and not setting up any of the stuff that I asked him to. A group of soon-to-be-pummeled bozos insulted Shelly with Mick in earshot, and got the hell beat out of them for it. Marlo FINALLY accepted Yoshi's offer to train him as an actual Furniture Warrior. And Ikea got this message: Ikea, We want our ice cream back. You will supply us with ice cream. Come to the gardens and wait by the horse statue at midnight tonight, or you will die. Signed, Queen Radiance PS - bring ice cream. OK, on with the show.... _____________________________________________________________________ In a disused room, the Emperor's three mercenaries were... well, basically, they were discussing contract obligations. Ken brushed his hair away from his face. "You have to make your choice, Pon." She smiled her kawaii, devious smile. "I already have. I'm joining Queen Radiance." He stared incredulously. "You're kidding, right? We may be mercenaries, but we can't just get up and switch sides." "Sure we can! It's not like there's anything to stop me." "What about loyalty to the Emperor?" "Like I said, there's nothing to stop me." She smiled again, turned her back, and walked off. "She'll realize what a mistake she made soon. Well, Jan, we-" "I'm joining Queen Radiance also," the monk stated flatly (his favorite way to state). "I... can _not_ take this. What reason could you possibly have for giving up on the Emperor?" Jan shrugged (an impressive feat, considering the stone table strapped to his back). "Mujo." The ancient Buddhist statement on the transcience of things seemed to cover most situations like this. "Fine then, go join her. She's worthless as a leader. You know you'll just get stomped again at the tournament. And she'll blame you for it." Jan just shrugged silently. "All right, forget you then! We'll see who made the right choice when we meet in battle!" This time, Ken was the one to turn his back and walk out. <><><><><><><> There was a *clunk* as another of Frigidaire Fifi's parts broke loose. Since her warranty ran out, her refrigerator form had been coming apart at the seams. So far, it seemed like the process was going to end with with her going back to normal, but either way, there wasn't much she could do about it. All she could do was wait, and get on with what she could do... which currently was helping Shelly hunt down... "YARSLOV!" "Aw no..." The much-abused Swede looked futilely for somewhere to hide. "Shelly told me everything about what you did. Waiting until she was vulnerable to take advantage of her... you warped little..." She had a moment of indecison, deciding whether she should pummel him with her chandelier or milk bottles. That gave Yarslov his chance. He jumped straight up and hung onto the ceiling lights. "Wait, wait! It wasn't anything like that!" "You'll say anything to avoid getting what you deserve!" "No! Like, she doesn't really remember what happened! Uh, just listen for a minute..." <><><><><><><> Somewhere very else, Marlo was nearing the end of the first day of his training as a Furniture Warrior. Tony thudded against the ground, T.V. antenna-shaped bruises appearing on his face. Marlo returned the set of rabbit-ear antennas to FurnitureSpace and sneered at his fallen opponent. He was still sort of uncomfortable with the whole furniture thing, and the antennas were enough like a tactical baton to still let him think like he was using a conventional weapon. Yoshi watched with some approval, and more worry. It was almost disturbing how fast the kid was absorbing new techniques. And he was naturally more powerful than practically anyone Yoshi had ever seen. He distracted the kid from his gloating by clapping. "Very impressive. Now it's time to see how your skills compare to mine. This will be part of lesson eight." Marlo cracked his knuckles. "Alright. I've already proven I'm more than a match for him! Now it's time to whup your butt, sensei!" Tony paused at his task of gathering up his teeth. "The kid's got the whole determination thing down pat..." Marlo reached into FurnitureSpace for his weapon, and had his legs knocked out from under him by Yoshi's speakers. As Marlo hit the ground, Yoshi told him, "Lesson eight: an intelligent opponent will take advantage of any moment of vulnerability." As Yoshi finished saying that, a bookshelf slammed into the side of his head. "I learn fast, don't I?" grunted Marlo. <><><><><><><> In what passed for outdoors in this dimension, Ikea stumbled around in the dark trying to find the horse statue. It had been hard enough finding the garden in the first place in the tournament's twisted version of reality, but now his candle had gone out. He would have been better off bringing a flashlight, but Ikea's grip on high technology (such as indoor plumbing) was still tenuous at best. His head impacting with a large metal structure tipped him off that he had found the statue. Making himself comfortable, he sat down to wait until midnight. He would finally have the answer he wanted about how Lumi's strange transformation had occurred. Not long after, bright lights flared. Ikea shaded his eyes from the glare eminating from the light bulbs in Queen Radiance's headband. 'Okay, I have to be menacing and evil evil evil!' She pointed at him and said in her most ominous voice (which still wasn't very ominous), "It's good to see you didn't wimp out. Now surrender the ice cream you took, or prepare to suffer a whole lot!" Ikea-kun simply shrugged. "The ice cream is not important. I came here only to find out-" A vein throbbed in the queen's forehead. "You... DIDN'T BRING MY ICE CREAM?!" Dark Queen Radiance yelled, incidentally sounding a bit like the Emperor. Ikea faced her rage calmly. "I have no ice cream. I have no idea why you believe I took it from you." "Because everyone told me, that's why!" How dare her wussy brother defy her this way! Ikea's reaction couldn't be considered stoic, because that would imply he could act differently. "Lumi..." There was almost emotion in his voice. "What happened to you? You've always told me-" "SHUT UP! You must PAY for not returning our ice cream! DARK RADIANCE FLASH!" The black light bulbs exploded against the ground where Ikea had been standing a moment ago. "I'm not going to hurt you, Lumi-chan..." "Good! I'm going to hurt you, and you holding back'll make that real easy! And I'm NOT Lumi! I'm Dark Queen Radiance, ruler of the empire, and all sorts of cool evil things like that!" While dodging her attacks, Ikea considered his options. The queen wasn't likely to listen to reason (which showed that she was still a LITTLE like Lumi), but if she wouldn't answer his questions, there wasn't much he could do. He didn't want to fight Lumi- "SHINING WAVE OF DOOM!" And with the massively overpowered attacks she was using, he wouldn't have much chance if he tried. He couldn't see a good option, so he came to the logical conclusion about what he should do. Patiently, he waited for the queen to commit herself to an attack before making his move. "ANTI-LIGHT B- hey, get back here!!" Ikea was running like a rabbit on fire. "DARN YOU, IKEA!" she shouted at his back. "Awww... I really wanted to wreak an unspeakable revenge... oh well. I'll do terrible horrible things to him next time." <><><><><><><> With the exception of the Emperor throwing his VCR out the window when it mangled his tape of Please Save My Earth, the rest of the night was uneventful, so I'll skip to the next morning. <><><><><><><> Harry the Handsome Executive's day started ordinarily enough: he woke up. As always, in his swivel chair. He wouldn't leave his chair even to go to bed. Even though Scumco's Handsome Executives were trained to be instantly wide-eyed and alert after waking up in the morning, he was still in the habit of having a cup of coffee. On his way to the kitchen, Harry quickly noticed one thing that hadn't been in his room when he went to sleep. "Hello, what's this?" He picked up the envelope that had been slipped under the door and gave the note inside a quick read-through. After finishing the note, Harry dropped it in shock. He never expected to be dragged into something like this. Then, a realization hit him, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he heard opportunity knocking... <><><><><><><> Marlo's training and Tony's pummeling comntinued. Since Yoshi had gone off to "check on something important", Tony had come up with the most unfair tests he could imagine. And still been beaten each time. The current challenge was lesson 14: Coping With Distractions. Yoshi's spare stereo was blasting a Tesh song at max volume, and only Tony was wearing earplugs. They were both taken by surprise when the "music" cut off. Tony looked over, and was pounded with a water heater. Marlo gloated again. "Man, that lesson 8 really is useful!" The kid had already overcome his hangup about using furniture as weapons. "Hmm," Yoshi hmmed, "I see you have progressed very well in my absence. I now have a pressing matter to discuss with Tony, however, so if you would excuse us..." "What's so important that I can't know about it?" the kid asked nastily. And if you say anything that starts with 'sore wa', I _will_ mangle you." Yoshi quickly revised what he was going to say. "It is none of your concern. Practice your techniques on the training dummies while we attend to this matter." Yoshi went over to his partner, and whispered the message he had received. Tony started to sweat. "I hoped that if it hadn't happened by now it never would! We'd better get to work on this quick... wait, are you sure it's for real?" "Definitely. All the correct code phrases, _and_ he used our real names. Fortunately, the delivery included some items we might need." "We'd better move." The two rushed out of the impromptu dojo, already beginning to put together a plan of action. Several minutes after they left, Marlo smiled slowly. "I'll practice on some dummies all right..." With a sadistic laugh, the kid went off to find a real challenge. <><><><><><><> The preparations for the morning fight were well underway, thanks to the fact that Queen Radiance wasn't there to interfere. "It's a good thing the queen has such a short attention span," Fifi said. "If she actually CARED about running the tournament..." "I'd be out of a job, I know," Hugh responded. "Well, she'll have no reason to take me off the job from now on. I've even made sure that I'll be INTERESTING when I announce the matches." Staying backstage, he took a quick look out at the stone-floored auditorium. "Big crowd out there. This is going to be good." Hugh slowly walked onto the platform, letting everyone get a good look at his newly hand-airbrushed shirt, which had a picture of Ikea with several dozen paintbrushes sticking straight out the back of his pants. The sight got an amazingly strong reaction from his intended target. "Hmm..." Hugh's mockery had been blatant ever since the battle with the Ancient Swivel Chair Warriors, and even though no one could really tell, it was getting close to being the straw that broke the Warrior's back. Hugh stepped up to the podium, giving a few standard statements about the superiority of the Ottoman Empire and preparing to announce the next fight. Hugh was glad he had finally decided to get a teleprompter instead of just reading from notes, since he was halfway through his speech and the audience was actually AWAKE. It obviously had had the effect that he had been hoping for: making his speeches a little less of a constant drone. Of course, a lot of the audience was stifling laughter, but he decided that WAS an improvement over nodding off in their seats. Then he started listening to himself. "...Migk blebt speeb... um, wait a second... would somebody kick the teleprompter?" Everyone who had been listening to his speech broke out laughing. (Except, of course, Ikea, whose emotional reactions could only be detected with an electron microscope.) Hugh noticed one especially loud laugh from... behind. "You too, Fifi?" "Oh, I'm sorry, Hugh, but, but... hehehehehe..." Hugh stated "..." with an expression to match, then started digging through his pockets. "Forget the teleprompter. I'll just go back to my notes." There was a loud "AWWW!" which was silenced by a glare. Shuffling through his notes, "Alright, we'll go straight to the battle. Mick of Assorted Pubs And Pool Halls, style: Pool Hustler Fighting, vs. Searer of ..." Hugh squinted at Searer's entrance application to the Furniture Warriors tournament, "can't read that handwriting... style: Kitchen Appliance Fighting." The audience arranged themselves around the edge of the stone circle in the center of the hall. Mick and Searer stepped out of the crowd on opposite sides of the circle. Leaning his cue on his shoulder, Mick gave his opponent a good once-over. He certainly did look impressive. Plenty of scars, dressed in black, a little less than seven feet tall, and a little more than seven feet wide. Of course, he HAD to be huge to handle that oven as an effective weapon. Especially since it seemed he hadn't been trained enough to learn the use of FurnitureSpace and had to CARRY that thing with him all the time. Still, Mick wasn't about to underestimate him, though judging by his sneer, Searer might be making that mistake about Mick. Hugh's voice boomed out of the speakers again. "Hurry up and FIGHT!" Moving impossibly fast for someone that size, Searer snapped his oven up to a sidearm position, where a shell of energy flared up around it. "MAXIMUM RANGE!" he boomed, swinging his oven forward, both of them rising off the ground and starting to fly across the ring in a move that seemed incredibly familiar to anyone who's played Street Fighter. Almost overcome by surprise, Mick barely managed to dive under Searer before he was smashed into paste. Searer's attack sent him all the way across the ring (where the crushing force was harmlessly stopped by a group of innocent bystanders). He landed back on the ground, surprised that his signature move hadn't netted him an instant win. Searer than heard a shout of "Goof Ball!" He pulled his head back in time for a sixball to go flying past his face. Turning to face Mick, he was taken by surprise when the ball (ricocheting off the wall) hit him in the back of the head, nearly knocking his eyeballs out. Mick smiled. If there was one thing he had always had a natural talent for, it was suckering people. It was why he realized pool hustling was his calling. Searer rushed across the ring, swinging his glowing electric oven by the cord, obviously trying to land one attack that would stove Mick's head in. "SHORT RANGE CRUSH!" Searer smashed his oven down at Mick, hard enough to crack the concrete. Mick, of course, was nowhere near where the clumsy attack landed. "SCREW BALL!" Mick tossed a five ball straight at Searer's head. Searer knocked it out of the air with a backhand, just before the cue ball flying right behind it smashed into his face. Searer's nose went crunch. Considering the big guy's looks, that was probably something that he was familiar with. Mick decided not to play around anymore in this fight. He had heard about what Searer had done in a brawl a few days ago. Searer had taken on three opponents, who had lasted eleven seconds. Total. The medics had had to pick them up with spatulas... Searer, raging, didn't even bother with a special attack this time, just grabbing his oven with both hands and swinging it like a club. This one was fast enough to force Mick to counter it directly. "RIGHT ON CUE!" He wedged his cue into the crack of the door on the oven and deflected Searer's swing. Searer ended up nearly losing his grip on his oven and barely managing to hold onto it with one arm. "FLYING CUE!" Mick jabbed his cue several dozen times at his opponent's face. Searer desperately tried to backstep while not losing his grip, and so was taken completely by surprise when the jabs at his face turned out to be a feint, and the cue was actually grinding into his wrist. Searer's hand sprang open, and his oven dropped... right onto his foot. Guys as huge as Searer usually have an image to uphold, so most of them wouldn't have had the reaction he did: tears instantly streaming from his eyes as he fell over. "OWIE OWIE OWIE! Get it off me! Call the medics! MOMMY!!!" as he pounded his fist against the ground. Mick put away his weapons. "See how easy it is when you hit your cues?" Fifi waved and almost blew a kiss to Mick, changing her mind when she saw the instant look of jealousy that came over Hugh. The crowd parted to let the stretcher through. The two medics strained to roll the oven off of Searer's foot, and then proceeded to give themselves hernias by lifting the gigantic man onto the stretcher. Searer wiped tears off of his face and told the medics, "Wait, hold on a minute." Sweating, they gratefully set him down. Searer motioned to his opponent. "Hey, O'Brien, I'm supposed ta give somethin' to you." Mick came over carefully, with his guard up. Searer reached unsuspiciously slowly into his shirt, and took out an envelope. "Read this when there's no one around. An' trust me, you'll regret it if ya don't." <><><><><><><> SHE'S PROVEN TOO DANGEROUS ALREADY, PFISCHER, AND NOW YOU SAY YOU WANT TO MAKE HER EVEN MORE POWERFUL? Emperor Ottoman boomed. Pfischer then began to explain his important discovery. "You see, some scans I made have shown that she has a vast amount of untapped energy." REALLY? THAT ISN'T SO SURPRISING. HER LAST INCARNATION WAS FAR MORE POWERFUL THAN THIS ONE... He trailed off as another thought came to him. LET ME TAKE A WILD GUESS WHAT YOU'RE PLANNING TO ASK. YOU WANT PERMISSION TO USE YOUR MAD SCIENCE THINGIES TO BRING HER BACK TO FULL POWER WHILE TRYING TO GET HER ON OUR SIDE. "That's about it, Emperor. And I'm NOT a mad scientist. I've proven that more than enough times." OH, OF COURSE. HOW ARE YOU PLANNING TO PROVE IT NEXT? BY FLYING ON A MAGIC CARPET TO SEE THE KING OF THE POTATO PEOPLE? "Ye- no!" SKIP IT. I THINK RELEASING HER POWER IS A GOOD IDEA, SO LONG AS WE HAVE A RELIABLE WAY TO CONTROL HER AFTERWARDS. SHE'S ENOUGH OF A PROBLEM NOW. Dr. Pfischer smiled viciously. "Of course, sir! I've already worked out a solution to both problems!" Pfischer rushed back to his lab, using Evil Laugh #23 the whole way. Their enemies would never be able to stand against this new weapon! After arriving in his lab, he made a quick call to Dark Queen Radiance. As he could tell by the sounds coming over the speaker phone, she obviously wasn't expecting a call. "Mmmm... mint chocolate chip..." Pfischer cleared his throat. "HUH?!?" There was the clink of a spoon hitting the floor. "Oh darn, I dropped it!" She then gave him an example of the perfectly evil tone of voice that he was so impressed with. "Well, Doctor, what's so important that I had to be interrupted during my meditation?" He matched her tone. "Could you come to my lab, Dark Queen? I've made a discovery that will be very useful to you." "And?" "Uh... I've also got some fudge." "Really? I'll be right there then!" The speaker clicked off. Pfischer leaned back in his chair. This was going to be an even more brilliantly evil moment than when he had turned her evil in the first place. He then idly wondered whether he was using the word "evil" too much. Several hours later, Pfischer finally noticed that she was a bit late. Suddenly starting to worry, he checked the security cameras on his monitor and found no trace of the queen. A sweatdrop the size of a basketball appeared on the back of his head. "...the emperor's going to kill me." <><><><><><><> "C'mon, it's noon already..." As if in response (but probably not), the doors started to creak open. "It's about time! I'm starved." The huge crowd of warriors shoved their way into the cafeteria, the meanest ones getting to the front of the line, and quickly regretting it when they saw the food. Ikea and Yarslov eventually got up to the counter and were given bowls of what looked a lot like crude oil. Staring in disbelief at the stuff, they went to a table. "Dude, do you even have a guess at what this stuff is?" "I think you should carefully consider whether you want an answer," Ikea responded. Ikea regarded his "meal" with less enthusiasm than usual. The food seemed to have gone down several notches from gruel to glop. Someone at the next table shouted "This is gruel and unusual punishment!" The chef, a master of Multiple Ladle Combat, knocked him out cold and dared anyone else to insult his cooking. Everyone grimaced and went back to eating the goop du jour. Ikea stirred the mystery mush, wondering if it would start to look edible if he waited long enough. This was just the poisoned icing on the cake. First, Lumi had been transformed somehow, and now her new Queen Radiance self considered him a mortal enemy. And he STILL didn't know how this had all happened. The things he had gone through because of love and ice cream... perhaps if he HAD brought some ice cream to her last night... no, he wouldn't give in to anyone, even his former sister. But when she had gotten angry, it had been so easy for her to defeat him. This was a very worrying development. How to return her to normal was still beyond him. Like the mending of a splintered antique chair, the solution to a situation like this can never be perfect... While trying to distract himself from what he was tasting, Yarslov saw a familar face, which was attached to the rest of a familiar person. Yarslov waved to him. "YO, HARRY!" "AAUUGHum... I mean, good day all!" Harry gave them a bright fakey smile, trying not to let his thoughts of 'deargodthey'reontome' show. "Jeez, what's wrong with you?" "HEH, nothing!!!! Why?" "Dude, you look like you're, like, falling apart, that's why." "Yes, you do appear to be under some strain." Harry put even more effort into his smile. "Not at all, friends! Let's not speak of it again!" He pointedly started eating. Then weakly continued eating when he tasted the Crappy Meal. Yarslov looked at him funny, Ikea nearly had a visible expression, then the two went back to convincing themselves that the food was nontoxic. At a table as far away as possible from where Yarslov was sitting, Rebecca, Joanie/Frigidaire Fifi, and Shelly were thinking of what they could do to avoid having to eat what was (theoretically) lunch. Joanie had carefully planned the seating arrangement so that Shelly wouldn't notice Yarslov and go into a homicidal rage. The two noticed their ninja friend staring off into space. Shelly waved a hand in front of Rebecca's face. "Hello? What's going on in there?" "Huh? Oh. Well, I had just found out some important things about the empire. It's hard to tell if you don't go looking, but they're falling apart. This COULD give me exactly the opportunity I've been looking for. Now that I know I _have_ an opportunity, I need to make sure I've got the twisted revenge scheme to go with it." Looking at nothing in particular, she got such a warped smirk that Shelly regretted asking. As she had been doing all day, Joanie thought about what Yarslov had told her the night before. At first she hadn't wanted to listen, but the kid just didn't seem like the lying type. And his story was too... believable. If Shelly would listen to the truth, she probably WOULD change her mind about him. "Shelly... I found Yarslov last night..." Shelly instantly brightened up. "You did? How bad did you hurt him?" Joanie sighed inwardly. This was not going to be easy. "I didn't fight him. I just listened to him. And I really think you should give him another chance..." Shelly gripped the edge of the table so tightly that the wood cracked. Several nearby warriors winced at the damage to a piece of quality furniture. "Don't start going all soft on that pervo! Thanks to him, I'm thinking of swearing off men just like I did booze!" "Sorry. I know I shouldn't have brought him up again. But there's more that you have to deal with. Especially your father..." Shelly sighed. "I have to admit, he has changed. I know he's trying... but until he does something that makes up for skipping out on Mom and me, I'm not forgiving him!" To the side of the cafeteria door, Yoshi and Tony were having a heated discussion. "That kid is so tough it's scary. I still say it wasn't a good idea to train him in the first place." "We can't afford to dwell on that right now. There's a far more important problem at hand." "You're telling me. I can't believe we're doing something this desperate." "I find it hard to believe as well, but this may be our only opportunity. The Ottomans haven't been this vulnerable for centuries. And now that they have the queen, neither have we. This HAS to be done." Tony scratched at his fake beard and said to his partner, "If you're so sure it's going to work, why don't you do it?" Yoshi looked down at him. "Well, it was your idea after all. Besides, effective as it sounds, it is quite crude, which certainly seems to be something you specialize in." Tony would have refuted that if it hadn't been completely true. "So, I just have to go in there, start some confusion, and then use this," He held up something that looked enough like a hypo-spray to get me sued for copyright infringement, "on her. Alright, I can deal with that," slipping the definitely-not-a- hypo-spray into his pocket. "I won't waste anymore time." Cradling his lamp, Tony went inside. A minute later, there was the shout of, "HEY, WHO PINCHED ME???" and the sound of a desk being forcibly applied to something that made a crunch that- to anyone with Yoshi's sense of acoustics- sounded much like Tony. In a couple of minutes, there was an at-least-ten-person fight going on. Then, Tony stumbled out the door, carrying an unconscious burden. Yoshi smiled faintly. "So, how did it go?" Tony handed off their target to his partner, then got to work trying to pull his beard out of his nose. There was a faint squelch as it came loose. "I see it wasn't quite so simple as you thought." "Weh a secun. Jus wehme rehlocade muh yaw. *SPOP* Ow. Hey, it worked, didn't it? No one even noticed what I was doing. Now, let's get going before things settle down in there." <><><><><><><> *THUNK* "Ouch." *THUNK* "Ouch." *THUNK* "Ouch." Searer, (now proud owner of a brand-new cast and bandages that covered most of his face) was limping back to his room. Still carrying his oven. He was having pleasant thoughts about how well he had succeeded in his match against Mick when the door he was passing jumped forward and smashed him into the opposite wall. "What the hell wazzat!?" "Me, that's what." Marlo was holding the door in attack position. Searer looked down at the more-than-slightly-disturbed teenager. "Oh. I heard of you, kid. What are you botherin' me for?" "You're going to HAVE to take my fighting skills seriously THIS time! Now I'm a REAL Furniture Warrior!" "Listen kid, you still don'know what this tournament is all about, do ya? Don't waste my time, punk." Giving the kid a backhand shot with his oven, that sent the young running gag flying back through the doorway, while making it apparent that he had already forgotten lesson #1 (don't get hit). In every other chapter, the kid had stayed down, but this time he struggled back to his feet, with fire in his eyes (well, metaphorically). Searer, who had promptly forgotten about the young psycho, was stumping down the hall again. His first hint that the kid had stayed conscious this time was a door being slammed into the top of his head. Marlo quickly put the door away, bringing out a toolbox. Searer tried to smear the kid on the wall, but ended up with the narrow end of the box rammed into his gut. "Nice try, loser, but I am NOT going to be a joke any longer! You're going to see that I'm a better warrior than any of you!" The kid's psychotic rage seemed unbeatable (and probably was), but his victim wasn't the type to back down. "SHORT RANGE CRUSH!" Marlo easily avoided the attack, slowed as it was by Searer's injuries. The kid opened his toolbox, and did something blindingly fast. Searer lifted his oven again, there was a sound of bolts hitting the floor, and it fell apart in his hands. Marlo laughed, balancing four tools on his fingers. "Guess you're screwed now, huh?" Instead of trading remarks, Searer decided to make an intelligent move for the first time in his life, and ran. He was quickly downed due to the liberal application of a bookshelf to the back of his head. "HA! I'm as good as any of these weenies! I'll try a more dangerous one ne-" "That was very impressive." Since Searer was unconscious on the ground, even a drooling wacko (Marlo, for instance) would have realized that the voice had not come from him. The kid spun around, holding his door in attack position. "WHAT IS IT???" "You seem to be a very dangerous fighter. I'd like it if you signed up on our side in the tournament." "Really? Well..." the kid's rage just melted away and was replaced by arrogance. "It's good to see that someone FINALLY appreciates what I can do." "Of course," Miss Oeru gave him a tofu-bland smile, and thought 'Unrefined skill, but incredibly strong. With a little training, the young fool could be the secret weapon we need.' "I happen to have a preliminary entrance form right here. If you would just give me your name..." "Marlo! Marlo Semaj, creator of the Varied Tactical Furniture style!" He had no idea why it came out that way, but it sounded good. Filling in the blank, she said, "Of course, to join so late, you'll have to meet with... the, hmm... sponsor of the tournament first. But I'm sure she'll be quite receptive." Marlo shouldered his door like a rifle and smiled hugely. <><><><><><><> Grumbling, Doctor Pfischer searched through the slightly twisted halls of the pocket dimension, remembering what the Emperor had yelled at him a few hours ago... well, he had probably yelled. It was hard to tell with the Emperor's voice. SO... SHE DISAPPEARED... JUST BRILLIANT, DOCTOR PFEATHERHEAD. GET OUT THERE AND FIND HER, OR I'LL THROW YOU INTO THE NEXT ROUND OF THE TOURNAMENT! "She's as good as found, sir!" SHE'D BETTER BE. SOMETIMES, DOCTOR, YOU'RE ABOUT AS SHARP AS A BRICK. AND ALMOST AS BRIGHT. Pfischer pointed the antenna of his scanner in random directions, not really expecting to find anything. Not in time to save his butt, anyway. Then, the detector *ping*ed. Frantically, he fumbled with the screen, checking where the signal had come from. "Only two halls away. But she's moving fast. If she gets into one of the reality distortions, I'll never get her trail back!" The withered old mad scientist pushed himself to the limit running... and didn't quite make it in time. All he got for his trouble was a quickly-fading view of the queen and someone in a swivel chair. <><><><><><><> Back in his room, Yarslov was asleep. You should know what that means if you have been paying any attention at all for the last fourteen chapters. "We now interrupt, 'This is Yarslov's Life,' for an important announcement." The scene flickered, then cleared. The Mysterious Psychic Chick was at the edge of the screen, handing the dream Yarslov a sheet of paper. "Why can't you tell him?" he asked frantically. "I can't waste any time! It's all starting to happen!" She rushed offscreen. "Um... WHOA! I'm on already?! Uh, hey, dude." The dream Yarslov seemed more nervous than he had ever been. "This is really important, so I, like, can't waste any time. The love of your life is in some major trouble, man." "Huh? What happened?" "Uh, you're supposed to find that out for yourself, dude. I can only tell you this much... let's see: you'll need two people to help save her, and I can't tell you who they are either. That fate stuff, y'know." "Okay, I can deal with that part. Ikea oughtta-" "Sorry, man, but it can't be him. They're supposed to wanna help Shelly, not you. And anyway, Ikea's got his own problems right now. I guess you better wake up now, because the more time you waste, the more trouble she's in, dude." Yarslov's eyes popped open. "Whoa, that was sure NOT froody..." He got to work trying to think of who he could possibly ask to help him save Shelley, and hoping he wouldn't strain his brain by thinking that hard. One possibility instantly came to mind, and as hard as he tried to put it out of his head, it was so depressing he knew it had to be right. "Aw, aw man... that Leonardo Decapitato guy." <><><><><><><> Word had gotten around that a second fight had been planned for that day. Everybody was especially interested, since this might mean that the tournament was getting back on schedule, after the recent interruptions. This fight had been scheduled to take place in one of the best arenas (it was actually designed to have an audience). A huge crowd had quickly gathered outside the balcony door. The door automatically unlocked, opening out into what would have looked like a theatre, if it had seats on the ground floor, instead of an old tatami mat (with some slightly frightening stains). The warriors who would be mere spectators at this match filed in, filling the balcony. Directly across from them, where the theatre screen used to be, Hugh stepped up to his podium and got out a wad of notes slightly bigger than a phone book. He then started into the Traditional Pre-Match-Enthusiasm-Killing Drone (TM). However long it was later (the normal rules of time do not apply during his speeches)... "they then found that the same theory can't always be applied to different situations when they fell off the edge of the world. An important lesson for anyone... Mmm, I'm going to miss Red Dwarf if this match doesn't end by 8:30. How long has it been?" One of the other warriors (who had managed to stay awake) yelled, "There's a calendar behind you!" After using a needle-sharp paintbrush to permanently silence the guy who was dumb enough to speak up, Hugh picked up the mic again. "Well, then let's get right to it. Ikea of the Mighty Lame Tibetan Dojo..." "Hmmm." Ikea-kun pushed open the doors to the ground floor of the ex-theatre, attempting to focus his chi past the worries about Lumi and his recent doubts about his own strength. "Versus Yokakin of Dio's Furniture Assassin School." A slim man in a grey uniform forcefully shoved the doors open, sprinting down the short hall to the center of the battlefield. He smiled viciously at Ikea, then pulled his weapon out of FurnitureSpace: an antique coatrack with elephants carved on the base. And a black military-style cap hanging from it. Yokakin put the hat on, using it to keep his straggly pink hair out of his eyes. Then he went into a psyche-out tactic, which just happened to seem exactly like undisguised bragging. "Now I will crush you with the power of my Stand!" Even in his impossible-to-detect turmoil, Ikea was unaffected by this statement. "I am..." Yokakin paused. "THE GREATEST ASSASSIN IN THE WORLD!" holding the hatStand horizontally in front of him. "Now, like everyone else who's faced me, you will DIE, you Tibetan fool!" Ikea-kun calmly brought out his chair, despite the fact that he was experiencing a trace of something that he had never before felt previous to a fight. Fear. Yokakin pounded the pointy end of the coatrack against the ground. "MAHOGANY SPLASH!" A copy of the coatrack's head, made out of energy, shot towards Ikea. Deftly dodging the blast, Ikea rushed in, and attempted to hit Yokakin with a combo. Ikea's opponent refused to cooperate, quickly backing off, and using the coatrack's reach to keep Ikea out of range. He was forced to break off his attack after Yokakin fired off another Mahogany Splash. "Now, do you see? No ordinary fool is allowed to become a Stand user!" If Ikea had been the wisecracking type, he would have said something about it taking SPECIAL fools like Yokakin. But he wasn't, so I missed out on an opportunity for a joke. Trying to ignore the existence of a growing sense of panic, Ikea rushed in again. His chair flaring with chi, he attempted to break through Yokakin's defense with his own long range attack. "TIBETAN FURNITURE SLASH!" The disk of red-hot energy scorched its way towards Yokakin. In response, he just leered and spun the coatrack in a circle over his head, energy pouring down from it. "MAJESTIC FIELD!" A circular wall of energy exploded out of the ground around him, absorbing the force of Ikea's attack. He laughed evilly, shouting, "I'm unbeatable! You can never touch me, but I can DESTROY you, with the power of-" he held his "Stand" over his head with both hands. "The Elephant Brown!" Everyone in the audience sweatdropped. "He named his weapon?" Hugh said increduously. "And the _Elephant Brown_? Exchairiber was a joke... but that's just pathetic." Fifi hugged her pillow. "Don't worry, Mr. Softy, he didn't mean it." "Mahogany... SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH!" The three multi-pointed and very-painful-looking blasts streaked in a line toward Ikea. In desperation, he tried to counter with his own special. "RISING CHAIR FIRE!" He destroyed two of the blasts, but the third one exploded against his leg and slammed him into the wall. His vision started to cloud up, and a memory from his long-gone training days came to mind. Even though it may have been the worst-timed flashback in history, Ikea wasn't able to ignore it... "Ikea, you are very skilled. But your chi flow has always been lacking. I doubt you will be able to master many energy techniques," stated Master Oakcraft. "You have more than enough skill to make up for your lack of raw strength, but still, it is a weakness that you should work to overcome. And never forget the training I have given you in energy techniques. I'm certain you will need them someday." "Of course, Oakcraft-sensei," Ikea responded. "And try to loosen up a little, will you, son? It's bad enough that Lumi is more powerful than you are..." The memory ended right there, because after that point, it had gotten a little more depressing than Ikea wanted to remember. Still, it, along with the beating he was receiving from Yokakin, caused Ikea to experience something that he had heard of, but never thought would actually happen to him personally. Supporting himself on his chair, he started to pull himself back to his feet. Yokakin giggled inanely (not a typo). "Still alive, huh? Allow me to fix that! MWAAAHAAAAHAAAAand stuff." So much energy started pouring out of Yokakin that it burned a hole in the tatami. He was too caught up in his coming victory to notice that Ikea was back on his feet with an obvious (for Ikea) look of rage on his face. Yokakin flipped his coatrack over and slammed the pointy end straight down into the ground. "20 Meter Mahogany Splash!!" A cluster of eight energy blasts roared out, looking powerful enough to vaporize Ikea, the wall, and whatever unfortunate planets happened to be in their way after they left the atmosphere. It just so happened that Yokakin was the ONLY one who hadn't seen the giant ball of energy that was glowing around Ikea's chair. Ikea jabbed the chair towards his opponent. "BLAZING CHAIR INFERNO!" The giant ball of chi plowed through Yokakin's blast... and Yokakin. The pink-haired loon staggered once and fell over backwards. Most of his hair had been fried off (along with his clothes... fortunately he had remembered to wear his black dot that day). Ikea's face went from red to grey as he dropped onto his chair, arms wrapped around himself and panting hard. With that exception, silence rained in the arena. Really. There was so much, it had condensed. Hugh was wide-eyed. ".......The... the Chair Inferno..." he broke out of his trance and hurried off. "The Emperor has to know about this!" <><><><><><><> The Emperor and his supporters were having a meeting, which was not going well. YOU _LOST_ DARK QUEEN RADIANCE?!? shouted the Emperor. "Aaak gurkkk hhurg..." Pfischer stated, due to the Emperor's hands being wrapped around his throat. Emperor Ottoman dropped the little man. IDIOT! DUMBASS! WE'RE TRYING TO GET ME BACK IN CONTROL AND YOU CAN'T EVEN FIND MY RIVAL? AND NOW YOU TELL ME THE MOST DANGEROUS WARRIOR IN THE TOURNAMENT JUST PULLED OFF SOME LEGENDARY SECRET TECHNIQUE _AND_ SCUMCO MAY HAVE THROWN ITSELF INTO THIS MESS. IF SHE GAINS SUPPORT FASTER THAN WE DO, I DON'T HAVE A CHANCE IN HELL OF GETTING HER OUT OF THE WAY. AND WHAT I DO HAVE TO WORK WITH IS SO INSPIRING. YOU, THE SUPPOSED DOUBLE AGENT... He swept his arm across the rest of the small group. ...HUGH, WHO CAN BORE OUR ENEMIES INTO SUBMISSION, FIFI, WHO I HARDLY REMEMBERED EXISTED, AND KEN, THE ONLY ONE IN THE BUNCH WHO HAS WON A FIGHT SOMETIME THIS DECADE. Ken flipped his scissors out of his hand so they stuck point-down in the center of the table. "I talked with Jan and Pon. They're definitely on her side. Can't figure out why, though." "That's right," said Hugh. "She's violent to her own side, capricious, and brainless. I figured if I was going to work for somone like that, it might as... well... be..." He shut up when he noticed the way the Emperor was glaring at him. Pfischer tried to rub out the fingerprints on his neck. "I think I can have Livewire 2.0 up and running by tomorrow, sir." LIVEWIRE? THAT THING WAS PRACTICALLY A PILE OF WASTE METAL EVEN BEFORE IT LOST ITS FIRST BATTLE. A pained expression crossed the Emperor's face. DO IT. WE CAN'T LET OURSELVES BE OUTNUMBERED. Fifi took the opporunity to speak up. "In that case, we should bring in Mick. He still doesn't know much about what's going on behind the scenes here." "Mick?" Hugh responded. "I don't think we should risk that. Not yet anyway." WE NEED EVERYONE WE CAN GET. IT MIGHT BE WORTH THE RISK. Not so surprisingly, the entire meeting was being spied on from the ventilation shafts. "So they're desperate to recruit more fighters... perfect." The spy gathered up her curtains and disappeared into the shadows. <><><><><><><> Mick went down the hall quietly, watching every shadow. Searer's note had directed him to the end of this hall, and he had only seven minutes left until the deadline it had given him. He stopped at the door marked "storage room #4466613" and warily pushed it open. The place it opened up on couldn't possibly have fit in the room Mick had been told to go to (which wasn't so unusual in this place). Before he had time to think, the door slammed itself behind him. Being something doors only do in movies right before the homicidal maniac shows up, this was not a good sign. Blinding lights came on, and Mick saw he was in a warehouse with electronics as far as he could see (though that wasn't very far, since those lights had left him in no shape to do anything but stand around blinking). There was a hunched over not-so-little guy in a lab coat working on a computer at the edge of Mick's view. He didn't bother to turn around before he started talking. "Ah. Mick O'Brien. I had been looking forward to meeting you." "And why exactly-wactly was this so important?" The scientist finally turned around. Weirdly enough, he was wearing a headset with opaque white goggles. Mick was sure that he would rather be seeing that than the disturbing sorta-little man's stare. "Well, I- we have been making no progress lately in... our attempts to overthrow the emperor of the Ottomans. How you bastards managed to turn the queen evil is beyond me, but doing that has forced our hand. Now all we need to bring them down is our own turncoat. You." "Turn on Hugh and Fifi?! I'm not about to-" "I believe you will." A momentary look of surprise crossed the man's face. "Those two are the only ones you know about? Not Otto or Dr. Pfischer... that little snot, steal my robotics designs, will he? I'm go..." His words trailed off and he turned bright red as he remembered there was someone else in the room. "As I was saying, I believe you will. You see, I always plan ahead." He turned a tiny dial on the side of his headset, dimming the lights. Mick started. Tied to a chair in the middle of the warehouse was Shelly! She looked brain-fried enough for it to take something like the end of the world to get her attention. Maybe. Her gaze slid past Mick, then went back and held. So tightly that he thought he'd have to smack its knuckles. Then he noticed the creepy scientist was holding a huge satellite dish, the antenna pointed at Mick's daughter. The doc gestured with the dish, and Mick could see the outline of thick muscle through the sleeve of his labcoat. Blue sparks started jumping down the man's arm and collecting in the dish. "I am Doctor Shockwave, greatest student of Queen Radiance's Electronic Arts, and as much as I hate unneccesary violence, as well as clichÈs... do what I say or the girl gets it." END PART FIFTEEN! Stay tuned for more Furniture Warriors! Part Sixteen: Fried Vegetables, Anyone? CONFLICT! LAUGHTER! SCIENCE! CAPITALS! FURNITURE! In the next part of Furniture Warriors, written by... the kinda legendary Twoflower! [applause] AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, my first actual impro. And somehow, it went well! Why I decided to write an impro part is a fairly short and interesting story... I hope. The reason I picked Furniture Warriors is partly because it wouldn't have been made into an impro if it wasn't for me (no, really), but the REAL reason is because we had already seen that the Empire lasted all this time, so I started wondering "Gee, what happened to Queen Radiance's side? They won, after all..." So, I thought of the secret character from the game who was Queen Radiance's second in command. Or something like that. And Todd Harper told me I should actually USE that idea. Hope you liked this fiasco, and that I didn't totally destroy every bit of continuity. (Yes, I realize that some of the subplots were a bit rushed, but they were supposed to be set up in Omi and Qi's parts, and you can see how that turned out.) And I must thank e X ! l e for making it possible for me to write this with my pathetically cramped net time. Wanna say something, e X ! l e ? e X ! l e : Hmm, "the kinda legendary Twoflower!"... are you sucking up again? Again? Remind me about the first time. e X ! l e : Well, you know, the time that you... um, what about that other time when you... um... oh, nevermind. I'm gonna go back to my procrastinating now. Thank you, e X ! l e . And Twoflower, I want to apologize in advance for totally destroying whatever you had planned. I welcome C&C at neovid@hotmail.com (wouldn't it be ironic if THIS got mail and my many MSTies still didn't. Speaking of MSTies, http://lefty.simplenet.com/svam/ Gotherenow! Nownownow!). And one last thing: I AM the king of the Potato People!