Breathe in. Wait. Breathe out. Wait. Breathe in. Wait. Breathe out. The warrior meditated, his mind a questionably chaotic array of peace and tranquility. Lo, he was one with his body, mind, and soul, not necissarily in that order. The warrior within was awakened. And that warrior was nearly ready to go kick some ass. He sat, on a large cushion in the middle of his office, clad in an ancient Chinese warrior's robe, fashioned of the finest sweatshop-woven satin, with ivory clasps, gleaned from the bleeding bodies of countless African elephants. It was all dyed a fashionably clashing array of red, black, pink, khaki, and puce. This was Controversial Jack, after all. His meditation excercise over, he strode forth to his desk and partook of the frugal, humble dinner awaiting him: Cute n' Cuddly Dolphin Steak sandwich, acidic, synthetic, caffienated un-cola, and the obligatory Bowl of Baby Harp Seal Soup a'la Jack. After finishing his supper, he checked his arsenal once over, just to be safe: Steel chair. Check. Hair spiked nice and pointy. Check. Super-soaker filled with 1 part maple syrup, 1 part stage blood. Check. Life-sized inflatable anatomically-correct Asuka doll. Check. Sock + Orange. Check. Power tie, complete with dayglo-green fish print. Just in case. Check. Arousal of the Controversial Intent. His ultimate weapon. Check, baby. He was ready. Now, before you ask yourselves just why the HELL Jack was going for the 'honorable warrior' deal, hear me out. He had seen it done numerous times. On Ultra. On Hong Kong martial arts films. In that wierd Japanese animation that everyone else seemed to enjoy. It always seemed to be the way things worked in the world, so he decided to fall back on it...but of course, to add his own controversial touch. The reason for all this, of course, was that he was going to RESCUE Mr. Duck. "HELL YEAH!" He shouted to nobody in particular. Then, he just ranted. "FEAR NOT, MY RUBBER, YELLOW FRIEND! THOU ART HELD CAPTIVE BY THE FORCES OF DARKNESS, AND I, THE FORCE OF CHAOS, SHALL COME TO THY RESCUE! FOR I AM THE TERROR THAT EATS ALL THE NIGHT, I AM THE CHEESE THAT CRAPPED FOR TOKYO! COWER BEFORE ME, PEASANTS AND NOBLES ALIKE, FOR THOU ART NOTHING BEFORE MY WRATH! I AM KICKASS EMBODIED! FORGED IN THE FIRES OF CHAOS AND CONTROVERSY, BORNE OF THE TORMENTED SOULS OF A THOUSAND BLEEDING MANATEES, A HUNDRED THOUSAND STARVING AFRICAN CHILDREN, AND MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! I ATE NAPSTER! I DEFENESTRATED MICROSOFT! I TOOK MONEY FROM THE COLLECTION PLATE AT CHURCH TO PURCHASE MY WEAPONS OF HONORABLE DESTRUCTION AND BATTLE!" Ubenknownst to the raving lunatic, the door to his office had opened, and the associate producer poked her head in. "Hey Jack, cut your ranting. We're on air in five minutes." She sighed, "You gonna go out dressed like that?" Jack, eyes burning with madness, whirled upon her. "FLEE BEFORE ME, PEASANT! I GO NOW TO RESCUE MY TRUSTED COMPANION WHO WAS FORCED TO BECOME A TRANSVESTITE AGAINST HIS wait a minute. Five minutes?" "Yeah." said the assistant producer, nonplussed. "As I was saying, you gonna go out dressed like that?" Jack sweatdropped. "Uh..." "Better decide fast," She looked at her watch, "four minutes and counting." "Aww, snugglebunnies.", cursed the looney. "Stupid dramatic timing." ************ Working Title Fanfiction Presents The ImproDating Game Created by Delfina and Stephica Episode #4: Fashionably Incorrect Written by Tabris ************ The audience erupted as Jack ran out onto the stage. He had hastily donned a long, black trenchcoat that just seemed to scream 'trenchcoat mafia bomb freak', and a pair of basketball shoes fashioned of the finest in puppyskin leather (They were warm to the touch). It was his job, he was getting payed, and he had to do it, whether in the mood to or not. He was madman, but a -responsible- madman. "Hell-o, ev'ry-bo-DAY!" He whooped, "Welcome to the latest and greatest of gimmick game-shows ever: The ImproDating Game! I'm your host, Jack Lysias!" He bowed perfunctorily. Happily, nobody had thrown anything at him yet. "Tonight, not one, but TWO Impro characters will get the chance to go on the theoretical DATE of their DREAMS. We know this, you see!" He BS'ed, "We have vast scientific research conducted backstage, and we know for a FACT that EVERYONE here will end up in a PERFECT, HAPPY FUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP! Don't it bring a tear to your eye?" The audience cheered. What, were they going to say 'no'? "But before we introduce our lucky contestants, let's first pop in this little sucker," he held up a videotape, clearly marked 'Morrigan + Order', "and see what a wonderful relationship our lucky contestant is having with her newfound soulmate!" Jack popped the tape into a conveniently located VCR. ************* Order had on a little collar with a heart-shaped tag that said 'Gimp Boy'. Morrigan had a leather mask on. Neither of them wore anything else. Both were moaning loudly. But Morrigan was on top. Did you expect anything else? Be honest. The video feed was abruptly cut off. ************* Jack, with the leather sleeve of his trenchcoat, wiped a glistening tear from his cheek. "That's..." he said between sniffles, "so very beautiful, so touching. To see the rampant embodiment of Order tamed by the chaotic Morrigan...it just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside." "Awwww," said the audience collectively. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes insane again. "But this is a *snicker* family oriented show, so we can't show any more of that right now. However, be sure to catch the 'Morrigan and Order' pay-per-view special, tonight on Cinemax at midnight. We're all certain you'll love it." He gave a sick little giggle, and took out his card. "Well, tonight, we have yet another contestant that hails from the Sports Entertainment extravaganza, M.T.C.F.F. Ultra! Ladies and germs, put your hands together for the master of Furniturespace himself, the man who really KNOWS hardcore...Mr. Marlo Semaj!" Jack bit back his own comments as the teenager walked onto the stage, clad in his customary camouflage jacket, t-shirt, and jeans. His grinning face just seemed to radiate pure, one-hundred percent undiluted ego. Jack knew that he was in no position to complain, seeing as how he was the one who actually brought Marlo international fame and fortune. Still, nearly dominating -one- show was enough. "Hey, Jack!" Drawled Marlo, "Whassup!" He sat down, not at the chair provided for contestants, but at a large, generously-padded recliner that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, "You can introduce the chicks now that Marlo's in the house." He gave a cocky, arrogant nod at the crowd, who cheered loudly. (Drowning out the Ultra regulars, who, predictably, boo'ed.) "Right, then..." began Jack, "Let's get right to that. "Bacherlorette Numbah ONE! She's a European bombshell who's a great cook, a competent waitress, a star volleyball player, and an A+ student in school! Let's give this babe a hand, folks!" The young woman walked out onto the half of the stage that was concealed from Marlo's eyes. She curtsied, all proper and ladylike, then cocked her head and winked cutely at the audience, thrusting her hip out to the side ever-so subtly. Once the males in the house calmed down, she smirked insolently and sat down, tucking her skirt in under her. Jack grinned, and went back to his cared. "Bachelorette Numbah TWO! A warrioress hailing from an ancient world of myth and legend, let's hear it, folks!" As soon as she entered, she was greeted by a series of loud catcalls and wolf-whistles, and Jack staring unabashedly. Her costume, consisting of a minimal amount of steel, leather,and one sword, slung over her back, left VERY little to the imagination. Undaunted by the audience (and Jack's leering), she sat down. "You gotta ask yourselves, doesn't she every get cold in that getup!?" Cried Jack. "*ahem* Anyway, finally, we have Bachelorette Number Three! Tired of her many wild emotional issues back home in Tokyo, she decided to come here. Ladies and gentlemen!" He thrust his arm at the door, through which emerged the aforementioned young lady. She, too, was greeted by catcalls and whistles, due to the fact that the school uniform she wore was cut far too high in some places, far too low in others. She turned very red for a moment, and muttered under her breath. Getting her bearings, she curtsied at the audience, then sat down. "Well, now, what a pretty arrangement we have here, tonight!" Jack smiled, shiny white pointy teeth gleaming, "Why don't you all say hi to Marlo, as I'm sure he's quite eager to meet you all." "Bonjour, Mr. Semaj." Smiled No. 1. "Hey." Said No. 2. "Um, hi." Blushed No. 3. "Well, that was nice." Smirked Marlo. "You all seem like a lovely bunch of creamy young things, and Marlo's very eager to meet one o' ya." "Ladies and gents, that's Marlo for you. Anyway, let us move onto our wonderful questions. Marlo, you're on!" "Thank you, Mr. Lysias," smirked the boy wonder, "Anyway, first question..." He looked at the cue cards, "This is generic enough. Now, if you were a beverage, what would it be? Well? Let's start with Number One." "Hmmm..." Number One touched her finger to her lips in an artfully demure gesture, "Perhaps, I'd be a glass of fine, aged wine...not too sweet, not too bitter, but just the right combination." "That's easy," said Number Two, "A tankard of mead, strong and intoxicating, that you'd raise to toast your victory in battle, in the hall of warriors." Marlo nodded, smiling crookedly. "And I," sighed Number Three, "Would be a can of coke. Nothing incredible, but satisfying. Just what you'd expect it to be." She smiled. "Marlo likes an honest lady..." said the teenager. "Anyway, let's move on. Now, Number Two, you interest me. In one word or phrase, describe your fashion sense." Number Two nodded. "All right, then. That 'phrase' would be...fan-service." This, expectedly, recieved immense applause from the males (and some of the females) in the audience, as well as loud cheering. "I see, I see," Marlo nodded, "Any particular reason for that?" "Well, because it's fairly obvious that the less I wear, the more my loving fans will appreciate me, boosting me to interplanar fame and fortune, which will allow me to eventually take over the world using nothing but my womanly charms..." Marlo's eyebrows raised. He was interested. He was an adolescent, after all. "...but," continued Number Two, "that's only a passing interest. Aside from that, it's comfortable, it looks good, and everyone knows that when it comes to woman-warriors, less is -always- more. Besides, it suits my particular line of work. The less I wear, the easiest it is to...replace." Even more loud, obnoxious cheering. Most of the females in the audience, though, were beginning to look a little put-out. Marlo was still smiling, though even more crookedly. Jack was simply silent. Gazing at this woman's ensemble, he could believe it. Every word. Shame about that sword, though. "All right, moving on..." Said Marlo, "...Number Three, same question." "Fashion sense?" Said Number Three, "In one word or phrase, hmm...either 'normal' or 'conservative'." Everyone, except for Marlo, face-faulted. "Wait, wait," Said Jack, "You come out here wearing that skimpy little number and you call yourself 'conservative'?!" The girl blushed. "Oh, shut up!" She folded her arms under her breasts and sniffed derisively. "Oh-KAY." Said Marlo. "All right, then...I guess Number One here needs some attention." Marlo made a pretense of thinking things over for a minute, "Ah, I got it. Miss One, if you were a piece of furniture, what would it be?" He smiled winningly. "..." Deadpanned Jack, "Oh, come ON." "It's alright, Mr. Lysias." Said Number One, "my answer to that question would be...a bathtub." Jack sniffled sadly. It reminded him too much of Mr. Duck. "Do explain," Said Marlo. "Well, just think about how versatile a bathtub is...and how very...relaxing." "I see, I see," Said Marlo, scratching his chin. "How intriguing." "Well," Said Jack, "You've got one more question to ask all of them...what shall it be, Marlo? Think hard." The adolescent warrior leapt out of his chair. "A'right, babes, listen hard. This ain't much of a question, so much as it's a...request. So you'd better make this good." His tone shifted, from his usual flippant speech to a more somber voice. "What you must do is describe to Marlo, in detail, a body of water. Any body of water." Everyone was silent. Then, finally, several members of the audience realized exactly where this was going, and began to cheer and clap. The rest were even more confused. "Uh..." Said Jack, at a loss. "A body of water..." began Number One. "Let's see...a hot spring, comfortably warm, secluded behind trees and rocks. The water flows upwards from deep beneath the earth." Marlo nodded approvingly, as did the percentage of the audience who seemed to 'get it'. "A river." Said Number Two. "At times, calm and collected, but can become swift and unpredictable at times, and beneath, the current is so strong that it just might pull you under, that is, if you don't work hard." Marlo smiled. The understanding part of the audience cheered. "I'll have to go with a river as well," said Number Three, "Except this one is -all- rapids. Dangerous to any who would navigate it...but exhilirating, nonetheless." The cheers and clapping that this recieved might have come from the entire audience, but it didn't. It was loud enough, though. Marlo, however, had a look of consternation on his face. "Hmmm," Said the young man, "Decisions, decisions. Marlo needs to think this one out." "Quite alright," Said Jack, "It's about time for a commercial anyway. Don't go away, ladies and germs, we'll be right back!!" ************* O_o ************* "Welcome back, boys and girls, to ImproDating Game!" Rambled Controversial Jack, still clad in his combination Chinese Warrior's Robe/Black Trenchcoat. "Our first contestant, Marlo Semaj, was going to make his decision. Not that I know who it isn't going to be, of course, since I kick ASS, but we'll let Marlo take it from here." "My humblest thanks, Mr. Lysias." Said Marlo, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure all my eager fans out there are waiting to hear who Marlo's chosen to be his woman, and indeed, he has considered it deeply, weighing it carefully, and Marlo has decided..." The audience listened. "...that Marlo will choose..." The audience leaned forward. "THAT THE BEEEE-YOOTIFUL BACHELORETTE NUMBAH TWO IS GONNA SEE SOME HOT ACTION T'NIGHT! CAN YOU DIG IT, BABY?!" The audience had been rendered dizzy by Marlo's outburst, then, as they recovered, the clapping and cheering began in full. Bachelorette Number Two stood gracefully and bowed. "Well, there you have it, folks! Right from the Marlo's mouth!" Said Jack, "First, though, let's meet the other two lovely ladies." Bachelorette Number one strode forward, undaunted by her loss, really. "Everyone," cried Jack, "give a big, friendly, slappy-happy 'bonjour' to the lovely, talented Miss Gina Jacquard, hailing from the world of 'Heart Heart High'!" Gina looked Marlo up and down appraisingly. "I suppose you're not all that bad looking, now that I've seen you in person, Mr. Semaj, but I -have- seen you...perform in Ultra a few times." She smiled insolently, "Smart boy, but you -must- do something about that attitude." She curtsied tritely, and began to leave. "Otherwise, enjoy your outing." "Uh..." For once, Marlo couldn't think of anything to say. "Hey!" "Au Revoir, Mr. Semaj!" Gina vanished backstage, smirking. "Well, isn't that a shame." Sighed Jack, "She might have just been what Marlo needed!" "Hey!" Snapped the adolescent warrior. "Uh, that is, don't question Marlo!" "Moving right along," said Jack, "let's see who Bachelorette Number Three is!" The girl sat up and stepped out to meet Marlo. She was a normal-looking girl, fairly cute, but her fuku really was a few sizes too small. "Boys and girls, meet Nami Hakuchi, of 'H! Flash'!" "Well," said Nami, "It's been fun, but you win some, and you lose some." "Oh, nonsense." Cackled Marlo. "Just follow the path of Marlo and you'll win every time!" "Suuuure..." Muttered Jack. "Oh, and by the way, Miss Hakuchi," said Marlo, grinning, "you seem a normal kind of girl. Who'd have thought you were into bondage?" Nami turned bright red. "EXCUSE ME?!" Marlo cackled. "It's simple!" He turned to the audience, "Now, listen to the word of Marlo, people of the world! That last question I asked was one from this old psychology test-thing I took a while back. There were lots of questions, and your psyche could be analyzed from your answers. See, the one about the 'body of water' was the one that described your sex life. And you all heard the answer that Miss Hakuchi here gave. That's a sure as hell indication that this innocent little school girl is really a closet dominatrix." He laughed, and made a little whip-gesture, along with a whip-crack sound effect. Jack was nodding in understanding, and the audience was, as expected, cheering. Nami, however, was -not- cheering. A bright red aura flared up around her, and, out of nowhere, a giant mallet, conveniently labeled '1 Ton', appeared in her hands. "MARLO NO [BAKA]!!!" *WHAM* Jack winced. "Ow. That probably hurt." Marlo, clutching his head and trying to recover from this sneak attack, would probably have agreed. Nami stalked out, cursing under her breath. "You gotta admit," said Jack, aside to the audience, "that he's had that coming for a while, though." "Oh, shut the hell up." Grouched Marlo, seemingly recovered. "Can we get on with this?" "Right, then!" Shouted Jack, the cheery announcer once again. "Finally, our winner for the evening! Everyone put yo' hands together for the warrioress Gaina, hailing from 'The Gods Must Be Randy'!!" The tall, beautiful, extra-scantily-clad babe strode out onto the stage. Marlo's pain was completely forgotten as he (and his adolescent hormones) viewed this vision of loveliness approaching him. "Marlo Semaj, I will date with you this evening," she said, bowing. "Though your final question was somewhat...underhanded, I have, truly, nothing to hide, as it would appear..." She winked demurely at the audience, getting plently of cheers and whistles in return. "Miss Gaina, Marlo is honored," Marlo said, nodding, "to date such a hot, badass babe." "If you wish to call me that, so be it, however, I must warn you..." "What's that?" She spoke in a low, sultry voice "...take it slowly, boy. I like romance. Candlelit dinners. If you behave yourself, then we can discuss the wild, unbridled, steamy, passionate SEX." She dragged out the last word, ending it in a seductive hiss. The male members of the audience with more frail constitutions had, by now, spouted prodigious nosebleeds. Marlo's cool demeanor was somewhat...shaken. "Just remember that, Marlo..." she continued. "I always keep my long, SLENDER sword here nice and POLISHED..." Marlo was visibly sweating, but he nodded, trying to keep his cool. "No worries, babe. Marlo can keep control of his urges...." "I would hope so." Whispered Gaina. "Otherwise, Bobbitt here may have something to say about it." She idly gestured to the sword at her back. "B-B-Bobbitt?" Marlo's cool demeanor had all but vanished, now. He was nervous. Hell, -any- male would get a little uncomfortable if you were bearing a sword named 'Bobbitt', if you asked Jack. "...but I'm a forgiving sort." Finished Gaina, now speaking conversationally. "So, Mr. Semaj, shall we be off?" "Uh, uuh..heh..." Marlo stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them, they had their usual cocky gleam once again. "Right on, babe!" Out of nowhere, Marlo produced a large sedan chair, and bowed, bidding Gaina to step in. She did so, and relaxed, and Marlo, displaying his Madd Furnityre Skeelz, picked up the huge sedan on his own and carried Gaina down the central aisle, through the audience and out the double doors in the back. Though the audience's cheer was quite loud, if one listened carefully, they could hear Marlo softly, ever so softly repeating a mantra: "I musn't run away, I musn't run away, I musn't run away..." "Well, how about that?" Said Jack. "Looks like they're getting off to a wonderful start. Tonight, though, we have one more contestant for you all! "...hey wait. What's this?" The recliner that Marlo had produced earlier that evening was still there. Jack, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, pulled it off to the side and plunked down in it. "Well, that was nice of Mr. Semaj. Anyway, our lovely bachelorette contestant for the evening..." He shuffled around in the pocket of his trenchcoat, and drew out a card. "Everyone," he began, "please give a big round for Miss..." Jack fell silent. After a moment, he began to sort of...shake. It was silent, and a few people in the audience were ready to go dial 911, as Jack might have gone into spontaneous seizures. However, it soon became clear that he was laughing, quite maniacally, as the indicative sounds did emit from his vocal chords, filling the auditorium with the echo of his insane cackling. Eventually, he managed to pull himself together, and righted himself...well, relatively. "Let's all have a nice, happy, shiny round of applause for my dearest sister, Miss Anne Lysias!!" The audience burst into a huge round of applause as a normal looking woman in her mid-twenties stepped onto the stage. She had short, red-brown hair and wore her customary t-shirt and jeans ensemble. She had a strange look on her face, one that seemed to mix elation (from the crowds appreciation) with consternation (at being on, of all people, JACK's show.) And of course, the audience loved her. After all, this was Jack's sister, and deserving of immense respect, if only for that reason. "So, tell me, Anne," said Jack, grinning, "What made you decide to try your hand at the ImproDating Game?" Anne calmly walked up to her younger brother and took the microphone from his hand. "Well, Jack, I could give you a straight answer, couldn't I?" Her calm face soon split wide into a genial grin, "But, I'll have to fall back on the tried and true response. As they would say here in Japan, Jack, sore wa himitsu desu!" The audience broke into laughter and scattered applause. "Aw, Anne..." Whined Jack, a pained expression on his face, suddenly having second thoughts, "That's hitting below the belt, you know." "Oh," said Anne, her smile diminishing slightly, but not disappearing entirely, "I know. But you did, after all, try run out on me, brother dearest." "Hey, I had no choice! God herself wanted me to!" "Oh, don't try to take the easy way out. Now, why do what I came here to do, that is, participate in this little game show of yours?" Jack nodded, he may as well get this over with. "Fine, then. Please, have a seat, and make yourself at home." He swept his arm out, indicating the cushioned chair provided for contestants. As she sat down, Jack spoke to the audience once more. "Introducing, ladies and gentlemen, bachelor Number One!" From the door on the end of the stage that Anne couldn't see, emerged the tall, leather-pants-and-t-shirt clad man who was to be the first bachelor. He seemed normal enough, somewhat younger than Anne, but had a very definite wild, almost berserker-like look about him. "Heya, folks." he grinned, "what's up?" "Taking a short break from his highly successful music career," announced Jack, "this teen prodigy and warrior of justice, truth, and love joins us here on ImproDating game!" The young man plopped into his chain, slumping and looking generally casual. He flashed the audience another toothy grin...one couldn't help but notice white, pearly, pointy fangs. "Next, then," announced the Controversial one, "Bachelor numbah TWO!" A murmer went through the audience as the second 'bachelor' emerged. It was not a man, but quite definitely a woman, with short-cropped hair, dark, casual, unisex-seeming clothing, and cold eyes. Judging from the audience and Jack's reaction, Anne looked curious, but she could not see who it was, so she'd just have to wait. "Hey, wait a second." Said Jack, "This is the second time this has happened on this show, uh, lady, you do not look like a 'bachelor' to me." The woman shot him a baleful look. "Look, dude, just do your job and quit gawking.", she stated in a husky, calm voice. She sat down in her chair and cupped her chin with her hand, looking generally bored. "Or are you just jealous of my slim, feminine figure?" She said tersely. "Mee-YOW. Well, she, uh, he's a high school dropout and an expert sharpshooter, but not much is known about this mystery guest here! Anyway, on to bachelor Number Three...what the hell?!" The third bachelor, a tall, sinewy fellow with exotic, almond-shaped eyes and short, curly hair, strode arrogantly onto the stage, sneered at the audience, gave Jack a sidelong glance, snickered chillingly, and sat down. "Well, not much to say about him except that he's an expert martial artist, tactician, and all-around badass!" said Jack, refraining from mentioning that he also knew him rather well, "These are our wonderful, happy and sunny bachelors! Now, back to the lovely Anne. Can you dig it, sis?" "Whatever, Jack." Said Anne, sitting up. "Now, judging from the crowd's reaction, I've got an interesting bunch tonight. Well, don't worry, boys...I can keep -your- interest too, I'm sure." "Too much information." Muttered Jack. "Oh, shut up. Anyway..." Anne looked at the card. "First question, for you all...uh, how do you envision happiness?" The first bachelor spoke. "Well...happiness is that thrill you get when you get up there and do your best by doing your friggin' worst, baby! Kinda like that rush of battle, the competition. Happiness, my friends, is ADRENALINE!!" The audience cheered, as audiences are wont to do when someone says something that they like. The second 'bechelor' scratched her head and was silent for a moment, before finally speaking. "Well, that's a tricky one...happiness can be a lot of things. It can be the satisfaction of coming to grips with your inner conflicts and generally solving all of your problems as they come...but to tell you the honest truth, I've never been a very philosophical kinda guy, anyway, so I'll say that happiness is...a warm gun." There was some scattered clapping and hooting in the audience. "And there you have it," says Jack, "and now, ah, Number Three?" "Jack," said Number Three, "Listen closely. Happiness is simple. It's nothing more than getting your damn way and doing whatever the hell you want! And it's one other thing...it's self-respect." He concluded his statement somberly. "What an interesting thing for you to say..." Said Jack. "Anne, your next question." "Alright," she said, "Number Three, I'm a modern girl, and I don't like chauvanistic pigs like my brother here, so tell me, you all, how do you see women?" "Women." Said Number Three flatly, "from all that I've known about women, they're nearly just as bad as their male counterparts. Which is to say, I don't find them any different, if a lot more graceful." "Not bad," said Anne, "how about you, ah, Number Two?" "Depends." Muttered Number Two. "Do tell." "Well, there's lots of women out there. Some are friggin' MANIACS who need to be shot, some are like...Goddesses, while others are just sort of...there. Generally, though, I feel they should be respected for all the crap they have to put up with from guys. Basically, they're just the same as us guys." "'Us guys', she says," snickered Jack, "Well, I guess if that's the way the barn burns." "And now," said Anne, "a question for you, Number One." "How can I be of service, baby?" Drawled the young man. "Tell me, how do you think people look at you? They see you just once or get to know you, what's the general idea?" "Hmmmm...." There was silence for a moment, before the young man suddenly leapt out of his seat and powerposed. "Damn, that's an easy one! No doubt everyone sees me for the WILD and SEXY, yet SENSITIVE and LOVING guy I am! Hell, I'm not a hard guy to draw conclusions for. I mean, I'm one of those dudes where what you see is what you get! Heh heh heh." After finishing his brief speech, Number One sat down and snickered to himself for a minute, which only seemed to enhance his generally devilish aura. "Wow, that was blunt." Said Anne, "Not that I'm not used to arrogant maniacs." She glanced sidelong at Jack. "Anyway, I'll take your word for it, Number One. Anyway, shall we move on to the last question, Jack?" "Hey, sis, you're calling the shots, not me." said Jack. "Glad you finally understand, Contro-butt. Anyway, will you tell me , then," she spoke to the three bachelors, "my final question is...what, in your opinions, is the ULTIMATE QUESTION to the ULTIMATE ANSWER of LIFE, THE UNIVERSE, AND EVERYTHING?!" Suprised by her sudden outburst, Jack shook his head and spoke. "What, the question what's answer is '42'?" "Not necissarily. Work with me, Jack." The audience laughed, once again. "I don't have to take this." Spluttered Jack. "Man, what a great relationship you've got," laughed Number One. "Okay, my answer to that, or shall I say, my question will be...heh, how many tentacles does it take to deflower a refrigerator?" And the audience went wild...well, some of them, at least. The rest of them just sort of scratched their heads. "Uh, alright..." said Anne. "Um, your response, Number Two?" "Sure. That question is 'Why Me'?" "...wow." Said Jack, "She may have a point!" "True enough." Anne nodded, "And last of all, Number Three?" Number Three put a finger to his head for a moment, melodramatically whirling his eyes. Then, he looked directly at Jack. "The question is," he said intently, " 'Where is Mr. Duck'?" Anne nodded vaguely, "Alright, then." Then, it hit her. Something -did- seem missing. "That's right, Jack, where -is- Mr. Duck?" Jack looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment, then his expression melted into one of deep, sorrowful pain. He sighed, and sniffled, beginning to cry. "I can't say. It's too tragic." Anne got up and put her arm around her weeping brother, and, being a good sport, taking care not to look in the direction of the three bachelors. "There there, Jack." As the elder sister, after all, it was her duty to comfort her sibling when he was troubled. Not that she personally cared what happened to that stupid little bath toy anyway, but she still had her job. "Now, just calm down and tell big sis what the problem is." You damned freakshow, she thought. And what is -up- with that outfit he's in? "Oh, Anne, it was awful!" Bawled Jack. "They...THEY took Mr. Duck from me, wouldn't let me see him, even though we've been best friends for years! I didn't see him for weeks! And when I finally saw him again, they took him and they're *SOB* turning him into a DRAG QUEEN AGAINST HIS WILL! At least, I hope it's against his will! I never did anything to hurt poor Mr. Duck, honest! I don't know why they're doing it! Those mean, mean people! They've got him all locked up in a back room, now, and every time I nearly get through to save him, the stupid dramatic timing thing kicks in and -this- show starts!! WAAAAAH!!!" Oh, thought Anne, so that's it. Well, it surprised her minimally. "Now, Jack, don't worry." Why, God, did he have to break down on public television?! Well, the audience seemed to be eating it up, at least. "Jack, be brave! I'm sure that Mr. Duck will be returned to you unharmed!" Silence. "THAT'S RIGHT!!" Jack exclaimed, leaping up from Marlo's recliner and thrusting his fists into the air. "HE WILL NOT SUFFER LONG AT THE HANDS OF THESE EVIL SATANIC COMMUNIST OPPRESSORS!! BOLDLY, I SHALL SALLY FORTH AND RESCUE HIM!!" "That's nice," said Anne, "but can we finish this show, first?" Heedless of his sister, Jack continued to rant. "THE VENGEANCE OF HEAVEN WAITS FOR NOTHING!! WITH THE BLOOD OF A THOUSAND RED TAPE WARRIORS AND THE SPIRIT OF AN ANGRY MOB, I GO TO REGAIN MY MOST TRUSTED COMPANION!!" At this point, he tossed off his trenchcoat and whipped an orange-within-a-sock out of his...well, somewhere, and brandished it wildly. "NO LONGER SHALL I SIT IDLY BY AND LET THIS TRAVESTY PASS!! CHAOS SHALL RULE ONCE MORE, AND I, THE BOLD WARRIOR OF BLEEDING PUPPIES AND STUFFED BALD EAGLES WILL....uh...ANNIHILATE! ANNIHILATE!! RIGHT!! COME, PATSY!!" With that, Jack dashed off stage in a wierd pantomime of horseback riding, clip-clopping together a pair of coconut halves that he had produced from seemingly nowhere. Anne sighed. It was just like Jack to go and do something like this. She turned to the nearest cameraman. "Can we cut to a commercial?" Backstage, the associate producer was sighing as well. "This is not good. Cut to the commercials." ************* o_O ************* "We're back." Said the unassuming associate producer. "To recap, our host, Jack Lysias, has just run off, frothing at the mouth, determined to rescue his friend, who is, in fact, right here." She pointed to her shoulder, on which sat the small rubber ducky, around whom was wrapped a length of twine, a wierd parody of rope to tie up a human, and had tiny strip of linen around it's beak, and a tiny pink bow on his head. "Jack, if you're watching, just remember, this is coming out of your salary." "Uh, one question..." Anne attempted to interrupt. "A moment, miss." Said the associate producer. "The show must go on. Miss Anne Lysias here was about to make her decision. I trust you did give it some thought, Anne?" "Uh?" Anne suddenly remembered the three men who were awaiting her words, behind the barrier that concealed them from her eyes. "Oh, yeah, uh...I didn't really think about it." "...great." Murmured the associate producer. "Uh, you guys? You still back there?" There were voices from the place where they say. "Yo." "Yeah." "Yeah, we are." Anne smiled, relieved. "Oh, good." She put on her best cute-girl voice. "Will you boys be very, very nice and do me a favor?" Various synonyms for the word 'yes' came from their general direction. "Alright. One and Two. Do the whole rock-paper-scissors thing. Winner does the same with Number Three. The winner is my choice. You got that?" Again, various forms of confirmations of understanding came from their direction. "You're all so sweet! Now, go ahead and do that. I need to have a word with the associate producer here." Anne moved off to where the unassuming-looking woman stood, Mr. Duck on her shoulder. "Miss Associate Producer, may I have a word with your 'hostage'?" "Sure," said the associate producer, "but no funny business." "Understood." Anne took Mr. Duck from her shoulder and removed the strip of cloth from it's beak, then moved off to a Shadowy Corner of the stage. "Hey, Duck, just what the hell is all this?" She whispered. *Squeak* replied the duck discreetly. "I know, I know," whispered Anne, "but what about Jack?" *Squeak* *Squeak* *Squeak* Anne was silent for a moment, then nodded in comprehension. "Wow. That's deep. Okay, I understand everything now." She replaced the strip of cloth on the bath toy's beak and returned it to the associate producer, then faced the direction of the three bachelors. "You boys done yet?" She called. "Yeah!" Came the reply, Number Two's voice. "Looks like I won." "Alright, then!" Said the associate producer. "We have a winner...though that was rather unorthodox, I must say, Miss Lysias. Anyway, let's meet the two who weren't the winners. First, Number One. Anne, meet Kireiko, half-man, half-oni, all hardcore rock musician, from the world of 'Do-Gooders'!" The audience broke into applause as the spiky-haired, be-fanged teenagers strolled out before Anne, taking a low, sweeping bow. "Well, babe, so sorry I didn't win. You're pretty hot!" "Ah, thank you, Mr. Kireiko." Anne replied, turning a little red, "And I think you should know that I very much enjoy your band's music. And you come up with such excellent song titles!" She stuck her hand out to shake. "Wow! Really?" Kireiko beamed, taking Anne's hand and shaking it heartily. "I make up all the names myself. Look for our next album. I plan on calling it 'Commie Zit Bitch', if it falls through with the rest of the gang!" Anne giggled. "I'll be sure to. Nice meeting you, Kireiko!" "Nice meeting you too, hot mama!" The half-oni grinned toothily and walked out. "And next," said the associate producer, "we have bachelor Number Three, another one who hails from M.T.C.F.F. Ultra....meet everyone's favorite obnoxious ring announcer, Pantyhose Tarou!" The tall, bishounen chinese boy stomped out. "Dammit! Did you have to use my full name?!" "Uh, sorry..." replied the associate producer, "just reading from the cards..." "Yeah, like hell. Spikey-ass probably planned this from the start." Sneered Tarou. "Hey, calm down," Anne admonished. "This isn't Ultra, Mr. Tarou." "You don't understand...!" began the chinese boy. He was interrupted, however, as Kireiko came back onto the stage. "Whoa, be cool, man." He stepped in between Tarou and the associate producer. "I can see why you don't like your name, but it's really no big deal. You're not the only one out there with a totally rediculous name. Just look at me." "You? Kireiko, yes?" said Tarou, "yeah, that's right. 'Kireiko'...isn't that, like, 'pretty girl', or something?" "Sorta, yeah. But see, I can cope with it! And I'm sure you can, too!" Tarou folded his arms and gave a little 'harumph'. "But it's not--" "Hey, come on!" Kireiko patted Tarou on the shoulder. "Let's go get some drinks or something. We can meet my guys and hang out. You look like you could relax a bit." "Yeah, whatever." Tarou sneered, but then again, Kireiko had a point. He hadn't had a good time that didn't involve pissing other people off for a while. "Fine, let's got." He stormed offstage, keeping up the angry pretense, Kireiko smiled and waved at the audience, giving a quick "Hey, dad!!" to the nearest camera, before following Tarou out of the auditorium. "Well, wasn't that heartwarming." Said the associate producer. "It's time, now, to meet our winner, the lucky bachelor who's mad romantic skills will be put to the test tonight with Anne Lysias. Ladies and gentlemen, Yoi Kurasaka, of the Magical Girl Hunters!" Yoi emerged, not really paying attention to the clapping audience. He, or rather, she, as it was the moment, approached Anne and nodded. "Hey, Anne. How's it going?" "So, you're my matchup, huh?" Said Anne, examining this person who walked, talked, and generally acted like a man, but had the body of a woman. "Well, you were put down as a bachelor, so I'm sure there's a good explanation for why you're obviously a woman. This kind of puts a damper on things, since I -am- HETEROSEXUAL, THANK YOU VERY -MUCH-, JACK." "Uh, yes, well..." stuttered Yoi, "it's a long story...but we have time." "That we do," said Anne, smiling politely. "I'm willing to hear it." "Oh, good." said Yoi dryly. "I was hoping you would." "Isn't that nice?" Said the associate producer towards the bound-and-gagged Mr. Duck, but loud enough for the audience to hear. "Well, goodnight, folks, and I hope you enjoyed this exciting episode of 'The ImproDating Game'! Tune in next week to see how the dates between Marlo and Gaina, and Anne and Yoi turned out! But wait, before we go, Anne has one small announcement." She handed the microphone to Jack's sister. "Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" Said Anne, "I have decided, over that last commercial break, that if, and ONLY IF, Jack has not been located by the next episode, I will TEMPORARILY take over his job as host until he is found and forced...uh...persuaded to resume his position! Hopefully, we will have found him by then, but if that's not the case then, well, what can you do? This is Anne Lysias saying goodbye, goodnight, and sorry!" And there was much rejoicing. Yay. ************** END EPISODE 4 Author's Notes: Hey, that was really fun. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Stock-dialogue author's note stuff, yes? Also, I'll thank my prereaders, Phoebe and Lady Brick, since it's polite and they're nice and wai and stuff. Oh, and sorry for the lack of amusing commercials...I couldn't think of -anything-. I don't watch much TV to begin with...other than that, though, I have no excuses. 'night! To Ilyria: Have fun with this. Remember, it's flexible...Jack might come back, he might not. 'sup to you, Miss Smirnov. I'll repeat, have fun with it. Good luck! Undefenestratably, Tabris