This one was a far too silly to actually fit into the Avenging storyline. That and it contradicts some plans I have for the characters within. But I thought you might be amused if I typed it out and let you see a few more strands of the twisted skein of my mind. Also going for the A!MG triple feature, evidently.

Any and all C+C is appreciated. You can contact me at sommer@3rdm.net

Disclaimer; Marvel Comics owns the rights to the Marvel characters. Oh, My Goddess © Fujishima Kosuke, Kodansha, TBS and KSS films; AnimEigo, Studio Proteus, and Dark Horse Comics.

One last note: That beginning is a little stilted. That is intentional. You'll see when you read. No prereaders either.

Side Story 1: Wrecks N' Effex

Lo… Xel… Xelloki had a problem.

Xelloki was the God of Mischief.

Being mischievous meant harassing people. Xelloki liked harassing people. He liked harassing his half-bro… sis… sibling most of all, preferably to death.

But Xelloki wasn't allowed to be mischievous with Thor. Odin had said so in an Imperial Edict. People that went against the All-Father's Imperial Edicts didn't do so for long. That was because they ended up too dead to break them more than once. They got to go to Hel instead of Valhalla. Usually the way Odin sent people to Hel involved ungodly amounts of pain. That was impressive, since Odin was a god, and doing ungodly things was not easy when one was a god.

Sif also said Xelloki wasn't allowed to be mischievous with Thor. Sif was not the All-Father. Sif could not issue Imperial Edicts. Her threats were only backed by her sword arm and her own female creativity.

Xelloki was far more afraid of Sif than Odin. Angry women were far more creative when it came to hurting men than men could be to one another.

But Xelloki really, really wanted to harass Thor. Hercules wasn't going to be enough, especially since the stupid Olympian was wasting time fooling around with women in Rio de Janeiro instead of acting on the information the God of Mischief had provided. He was not driven by such base lusts, and could not understand Hercules' mentality. Exactly how many wenches did the musclebound clod have to sleep with before he was going to be satisfied? At the rate Hercules was currently going, Xelloki wondered if perhaps it was going to take all of them. Still, such lasciviousness would serve its purpose in time, assuming Thor didn't get him… herself killed in the meantime.

No, Xelloki didn't want to wait for Hercules to travel to Japan. He wanted to be mischievous with Thor now.

Was meddling worth Sif's wrath?

Didn't a god have to be true to his purpose?

"Argh! I can't take it!" Xelloki said as he pulled at his hair.

Lina Inverse and company drew back in surprise, all save Zelgadis, who was too busy trying to read a spell that could revert him back into his human form.

"D… Did Xelloss just have an emotional outburst?" Lina asked in shock.

"That's what it sounded like," Sylphiel said, next to Lina's side.

"Everyone be quiet! I'm trying to read this!" Zelgadis complained as he squinted and tried to read the symbols explaining Sm'llii O'Ffal's Spell of Reversal. It just had to have been written by a near-sighted, two-fingered troll who had to use charcoal instead of ink. Worse, it was written on cheap parchment that threatened to crumble into dust with every violent movement. As ancient as it was, 'violent' meant dust motes falling upon it.

Xelloki turned around and smiled. "No, I didn't. I only made you think I did."

"Yes, you did. I saw you. You even shouted," Lina insisted.

Xelloki's eyes widened enough that they appeared open. "Oh, so now you're saying that you believe in everything I say or do. Well, that's a refreshing change of pace."

"I didn't say that!" Lina corrected. "I'm not that stupid."

"So you don't believe I had what appeared to be an emotional outburst?"

"Of course not. I don't believe… I mean I do… Wait a minute," Lina paused to try and sort out exactly what Xelloki was trying to say and what she may or may not have agreed to.

While she pondered the matter, Xelloki went back to considering more important issues than tormenting his new playmates. It appeared there was only one decent solution. It was time to subcontract. That way Thor could be harassed by proxy. It was the closest thing to direct contact Xelloki could manage without risking his neck, or more important body parts, to Sif's dainty broadsword. The one that regularly disemboweled Storm Giants that pissed her off.

He whipped out a slender black object that easily fit in his hand from within the folds of his cape. He unfolded part of the bottom of it so that it protruded outward at an angle, raised a long, slender metal rod from the top, pushed several buttons from the main part of it, each emitting a tiny little beep, and cradled it to his ear, as though listening for something.

"What's in the world is that?" Lina asked.

Gourry raised his hand, shouting "Oh, oh! I know what it is."

"Well?" Lina asked.

"It's a Xel-phone."

Both Lina and Sylphiel's eyes widened.

Lina was the first to properly react. "Oh no! He's under the effects of the Curse of Kleppe again!"

"We have to exorcise it!" Sylphiel agreed.

"I don't have to exercise. I'm in great shape," Gourry insisted.

"See? He can't help himself. We're going to assailed with an endless variety of painful puns until we're driven crazy!" Lina held her hands up to her head in woe.

"Would everyone please shut up?! Your voices are making the parchment crumble. Ah! Now my voice is making it crumble. Argh! I just did it again!" Zel resisted the urge to cry.

Lina said, "Sylphiel, it's up to you to use your white magic to drive the possessing spirit out again."

"I understand what must be done for Gourry-sama's sake," she said solemnly. "Give me the Band of Purity."

Lina handed her a white headband.

Sylphiel tied it around her head. "Now the Lights of Truth."

Lina handed her several lit candles.

Sylphiel stuck them in the headband. "Now the Staff of Deliverance."

Lina handed her a long wooden staff.

A white aura formed between Sylphiel's hands as she chanted, "In the name of Chumba-wumba, I summon thee forth spirits of cleanliness to scrub out Gourry-sama's form, especially his brain, of this ancient and powerful curse." A nimbus of white magic surrounded the staff. Pleased that the spell was successful, Sylphiel said, "Now let the suffering end!"

She slammed the glowing end of the staff into Gourry's head.

"Ow!" Gourry moaned as he rubbed the rapidly growing lump. "I thought you said you were going to make my suffering end!"

"Not your suffering. Ours!" Lina said as she shouted for Sylphiel to hit him again.

Xelloki covered the ear that was not touching the Xel-phone. Eventually the ringing in the receiver ended as a feminine voice said, "Eternal Pits of Damnation. How can I help you?"

"I want to speak with Mephisto."

"He's not the current ruler of this section of Hell, I'll put you through to the new Archfiend."

"What, Mephisto's been ousted again? Who's in charge this time? Blackheart? Daimon Hellstrom? Satannish?"

There was a click on the other end as a new, male voice said, "Hello. Phil, Prince of Insufficient Light here. How can I help you?"

"What?! Is this some sort of joke?"

"Nope. I ousted Mephisto just last month. I'm in charge of this section of Hell now."

"That's ridiculous. You can't be in control. Mephisto has resisted the power of the Silver Surfer, hacked off Thanos, and continued to exist. Even the Impossible Man failed to drive him nuts. What could you possibly do to an entity of that power that could harm him?"

Suddenly, the world went dark around Xelloki. Not pitch black, but there was unquestionably insufficient light to get anything done.

"Ow! Damn it, Sylphiel, you just hit me!"

"Sorry, Lina. Gourry-sama, call out so I can hit you again."

"No way. I'm not—" *Thunk* "Ow!"

"Argh! Not now! I can't read the rest of this spell! Is there no justice in this world?!"

Xelloki said, "I see what you mean. I admit to underestimating your prowess."

"So did Mephisto," Phil informed Xelloki. "Poor bugger couldn't see and ended up accidentally wandering through a portal to some other realm."

Xelloki said, "I see. Where is old Mepphy now?"

"I bet you he's asking himself that selfsame question even as we speak."

"Your point is taken, oh Master of Inadequate Lighting. I have a favor to ask. A contract job to harass my brother."

"All right. Since you're causing misery and despair, I'll help you out."

"And I want the job done right, so don't give it to any pointy-haired demons."

"Shoot. Thought I could slip that one past you. What do you want done?"

Xelloki told him.

"Tamiya, tell me again why I have to wear this ridiculous ball and chain on my ankle," Keiichi whined as Ootaki continued to fit the clasp firmly around Keiichi's ankle.

The head of the Nekomi Tech Motor Club placed his hands on his hips in indignation. "It's to build up muscle tone in your ankles for the moto-pedal. We can't afford to lose to Aoshima again. He's already got our clubhouse and vehicles. If we lose this last race, we got to disband our club. There's no way I'm letting that bunch of Four Wheels geeks take our rightful spot as the top club at Nekomi."

"Then why aren't you driving the moto-pedal?"

"I'm too big. Only a shrimp like you can fit in it comfortably."

Keiichi sighed at the jab against his height. "I guess you're right."

Megumi placed a hand on her older brother's shoulder. "Don't let it get you down. I'll be helping out."

"You're going to wear a ball and chain and run alongside me?"

"No, I'll be riding on the back of Ootaki's bike and shouting words of encouragement to you."

Ootaki said, "Yeah, it's not like you've got an actual girlfriend to cheer you on, so you're going to have to settle for your sister."

Another sigh passed through Keiichi's lips. Everyone had to rub his face in his lack of a love life. If only he wasn't so damn short. If he had been tall and built like Tamiya, he would have been sure to have found someone to share his life with. No one was ever interested in scrawny, average-looking, nice guys. He was just a luckless loser. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"No time for a pity party. Get a move on." Tamiya shot his starter pistol in the air.

Keiichi tried his best to run with the large, heavy, metal ball and chain attached to his ankle, which was to say he hardly went anywhere at all. Tamiya just shook his head as Keiichi slowly made his way up the street, dragging the ball behind him.

As the head of the Nekomi Tech Motor Club entered the ramshackle house that was serving as their temporary headquarters, he resolved himself to the fact that they were doomed. That was all there was to it.

Idly Tamiya turned on the ancient television set that had been left in the house and popped open the last beer, trying hard to think of some way to level the playing field so they stood a chance against Aoshima. He mumbled, "What can I do to make sure we win? I'd do anything. Anything."

The television flickered for a moment before coming on. A beautiful woman with long stringy blonde hair and an odd set of red markings on her cheeks appeared in the middle of the screen. She wore a revealing lacy white top that was barely sewn together in the front, a pair of cutoff denim shorts, and a large baseball cap with the word, 'Hellraisers' across the front. She spoke to the camera in a salesman-like pitch as she said, "Are you tried of being trod upon by arrogant jerks that think they can buy the world? Frustrated at losing bets in what are almost certainly rigged contests? Wouldn't you like to have the Devil's luck, just like they do? Everyone knows revenge is a dish best served hot, and have we got a hot deal for you. What we're offering today is a no-money-or-your-soul-back guarantee that you can start kicking ass and taking names. All you have to do to barter for this near limitless power is dial 1-800-PURE-EVIL, and all that stands in your way will buckle before your awesome might."

Tamiya rose to his feet, shouting out, "That's it!"

The woman on the television gave a cruel smile.

Tamiya continued. "I can't think of anything, we're doomed, and I'm out of beer!" He tossed the empty can aside and headed to the refrigerator in the hopes that someone had left a wine cooler in the back.

He only made it halfway there when a television control bounced off the back of his skull. He turned around to see who had launched the makeshift projectile.

The woman on the screen shouted, "Hey, stupid!"

Tamiya looked around. There was no one else in the room. She must have been talking to someone else on a different channel. He headed toward the refrigerator again.

An empty can caromed of the back of his head.

"I meant you, you oversized grease monkey!" the woman screeched.

"That's some interactive television," Tamiya admitted.

The woman nearly pulled her hair out by the roots in frustration. "The answer to evening the score with Aoshima is right here. Just dial 1-800-PURE-EVIL."

"That's twelve numbers. There should be only eleven in a one eight hundred number."

"Just dial the damn number!"

Tamiya reluctantly did as he was bid. The instant he hit the last digit, the doorbell rang. He went over to it and opened the door. There was a package wrapped in brown paper, hovering about three inches off the ground. Tamiya just scratched his head as he looked at it. "I wonder if Morisato's sexual frustration finally overflowed and he's ordering porn."

Underneath the package, a tiny almost musical voice said, "Excuse me, please, Senbei is getting really, really tired of holding up this really, really big package."

Tamiya lifted up the package. Underneath was a three-inch man. Tamiya looked again at the package. "Morisato ordered GI Joes?"

The tiny man, obviously delighted at being relieved of his burden, said, "Senbei would do his happy dance, but his back is killing him. Bye-bye." With his declaration made he crouched down slightly, then leaped up in the air, talking off like a little rocket.

"Must be action figures from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. That little guy looked exactly like Chow Yun Fat." Tamiya reentered the house and tore off the wrapper, leaving a trail of brown paper behind him. When he opened the box, he saw the only object it contained was a CD in a jewel case entitled, 'The Real Satanic Verses'.

"Oh, it's just an audio book." Tamiya tossed the case on the couch and began to make his way back to the kitchen yet again in search for more alcohol.

"Play the CD, stupid!" a female voice screeched from within the case.

Tamiya reluctantly picked it up. "Nag, nag, nag. You're just like my last girlfriend." Tamiya mumbled as he opened the case and put the CD in the player.

A moment later, a kaleidoscope of light emerged from the player and became a swirling vortex of energy directly above it. Within moments the lights coalesced into the figure of a woman how hovered in midair. She was identical to the saleswoman from the television, except she was three-dimensional and no longer wore the baseball cap. Without the headgear, Tamiya could see a set of ram's horns curled on each side of her head.

"Ha, ha, ha! I am here at last," the woman announced. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Satana Satanadana. But you can call me Mara."

"How do you get Mara from that?"

"It's all in the pronunciation."

"Oh. What's up with the horns on your head? You look like could head-butt your way through a cinderblock."

"Horns?" She reached up and felt the side of the head, her hands caressing the projections as though it was the first time she had become aware of them. "What the hell?" She went through a pocket of her scandalously short shorts, and pulled out a card. She spoke aloud, reading it for the first time. "Hmm. According to my super villain action card, I'm currently fused with 'Satana, the Devil's Daughter'. A Marvel character that made a handful of appearances in the late seventies and early eighties during the whole Satanist craze that was a fad for a while. Briefly hung out with her brother, Daimon Hellstrom, a.k.a. the Son of Satan, off and on. Eventually Satana met a pointless demise hanging out with Spider Man and Dr. Strange in Marvel Team Up. It was pretty much a senseless gesture that was an admission that no one knew what to do with her character. Rumors are she was resurrected in the brief 'Hellstorm' title in the late nineties." She considered that. "Actually that's a remarkable amount of time for someone to stay dead in the Marvel Universe, unless you're the first Bucky or the original Baron Zemo."

"That still doesn't explain the horns," Tamiya pointed out.

Mara-Satana Satanadana read further. "I see. Originally it was a sign that the demonic 'Basilisk' entity, (no relation to the late green-skinned, red eye-beam shooting super villain of the same name) within Satana was active. In my case it's just to show I'm evil and fused with her." She tucked the card back in her pocket. "Well, that's settled."

"So what do you want?"

Sensing the conversation was steering away from the fourth wall, the demonic woman cleared her throat. "I am here to offer you a path to true power."

"Like that self-help guy with the big forehead that's always trying to pitch his tapes?"

"No!" Mara-Satana swatted Tamiya in the head. "I mean real power. Power as in 'I can casually bench press a Buick if I feel like it'."

That she used a car reference in the explanation helped Tamiya to understand the concept much more quickly that he otherwise would. The big man said, "So what's this power going to cost me?"

"It's absolutely free," she stated, adding, "except-for-giving-me-your-soul," under her breath.

"That's not exactly absolutely free."

"But it's relatively close. In sales terms it's as close as you can get to free without going over."

Tamiya quavered a bit. "I don't know as I want to part with my soul."

Mara-Satana said, "Sure you do. It's the only way you can beat Aoshima. After all, he's got the edge since he already sold his soul to us."

"He did?"

"How else do you think a smug, little, selfrighteous prick like him can avoid getting the beating he so richly deserves all the time?"

"Why that little bastard! I'll do it. What do I have to sign?"

Mara-Satana whipped out a contract. Right before Tamiya could sign, she pulled it away and said, "Oh, there's just one other little thing besides your soul that I'm going to need from you before I can give you this kick-ass power."

"What's that?"

"It's nothing, really. I just need you to beat the crap out of Thor."

Tamiya stared flatly at her. "No way."

"Why not?"

"I don't beat up girls, especially hot Norse ones. I'd sooner ask her out on a date."

Mara-Satana considered the unexpected proposal. "Hmm, I would certainly qualify that as harassing." She thought over her orders again. They were quite specific about Tamiya having to actually assault Thor. It took only a second for the agile mind of the demoness to come up with a solution. "Well, I have it on good authority that she won't go out with just anyone."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Rumor has it that she'll only go out with someone that's powerful." A rumor that was started by Mara-Satana just now.

"I'll be powerful."

"Powerful enough to beat her up. Yes, that's it. I think someone might have said she'll probably only go out with someone who defeats her in combat." The demoness congratulated herself on modifying an old law some recently extinct tribe of warrior women in China had used.

Tamiya rose proudly to his feet. "I'll do it. I'm sure the poor girl's been dying to go out with someone like me." He signed the contract. "Now give me that power."

Mara-Satana rolled up the contract and hid it within her ample cleavage. She continued rummaging around in it until she came up with a vial of greenish fluid sealed by a cork. She unstopped the vial, and the fluid began bubbling as it came into contact with the air. "Drink this and you'll become the recipient of near-unimaginable power."

Tamiya accepted the offering. He sniffed the contents of the vial. "It smells just like my Granny's goulash."

"Good," Mara-Satana said happily.

"I hated that stuff." Tamiya poured the contents of the vial on the floor.

"You idiot! You were supposed to drink that!" The veins on Mara-Satana's forehead began to pulse.

"I'm not drinking something that tastes like recycled rubber," Tamiya stated firmly.

Growling, the demoness refrained from using her hellish powers on him, reminding herself that she needed his body intact for what was to come. "I'll see what else I can come up with," she mumbled as she began searching through her cleavage again.

"Want me to help?"

"Want to lose a hand?" Mara-Satana stated coldly. At last she pulled out a gold medallion with a silver chain. Etched on the medallion were the images of huge men accomplishing great feats of strength. "Here we go. This Amulet of Force will imbue you with the strength of a thousand men." She offered it to him.

He waved his hand dismissively at it. "No thanks. Jewelry's not my thing."

"WHAT?!" Mara-Satana raged. "You wanted great power! Take the damn amulet!"

"No. If the price of power is to look uncool, I don't want it. Style is as important as strength."

Mara-Satana resisted the urge to put her ridiculous horns to good use by ramming her head into Tamiya's. "Fine! We'll do it the old fashioned way!" She looked around the messy room until her eyes settled on an object. She flew over, grabbed the crowbar, and flew back to Tamiya's side. "Here's what you're going to do. This," she waved the crowbar around. "Is going to serve as a conduit to give you your power." She made him hold it in his hand. "Now here's what you're going to do. You know the hill out behind the house?"

Tamiya nodded his head.

"Good. You go stand on the top of that hill and hold that crowbar above your head."

"How will that give me power?"

"I'm going to do something to it, but it's going to take time to build up the power. Now listen to me. No matter what happens, you hold that thing high above your head. No matter what, got it?"

"What if I don't?"

"Then we'll use the Cube of Atlas to give you your super power."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It's inserted anally."

"The crowbar it is." Tamiya rushed outside and headed to the top of the hill.

"Sheesh," Mara-Satana lamented. If the soul collection business had taught her anything, it was that it wasn't the smart ones that you had to watch out for; it was the stupid ones. They were the beings responsible for half the cases of retirement among demonkind. It was unfortunate that demons were so susceptible to high blood pressure. Mara-Satana just knew she was going to have to take a relaxing bloodbath in order to wash away her woes that this moron had inflicted upon her. But only after she enchanted that damn crowbar first.

The demoness exited the house and flew as high as she could until she encountered a cloudbank. She entered it and disappeared from sight.

Keiichi gasped out as he tried to make his leg move again. Only a half-mile, but it felt like he had run ten.

"Only five more miles to go," Megumi cheered from the back of Ootaki's motorcycle as they circled around Keiichi's slow moving form.

"I hate my life," Keiichi moaned. A rumble in the distance signaled the approach of a storm. Keiichi decided that was it. Even the heavens were telling him to stop. He was just about to announce his defection to Aoshima's Four Wheels Club when he spotted someone on the top of the hill behind the house.

"Hey, is that Tamiya?" Keiichi pointed in the figure's direction.

Ootaki pulled to a stop and stared. "Yeah, and it looks like he's holding up a…"

"Crowbar?" Megumi finished.

"Why would he be standing up on the top of a hill holding a crowbar in the middle of an impending storm?" Keiichi asked.

All three came to an answer at once.

"He's going to kill himself!" Keiichi and Megumi said simultaneously,

"He's trying to hit low flying birds!" Ootaki stated.

The siblings looked at Ootaki.

"Or maybe he's trying to kill himself," Ootaki quickly added.

"Quick, get us up there before it's too late!" Keiichi hopped on the back of the motorcycle, perched right behind Megumi. It would have been quite arousing, except for the fact it was his sister's body he was tightly pressed against.

It was a testament to Ootaki's driving skills that he moved as quickly as he did while maintaining his balance with three passengers on a vehicle that was designed for a maximum of two.

The trio arrived just as lightning began to flash overhead.

"Don't do it! We'll find a way to win!" Keiichi pleaded.

"I have to do it," Tamiya insisted. "I don't want to have an anal probe."

That took even Ootaki aback for a moment.

"Maybe we should let him do it," Megumi said.

Keiichi shook his head. "He's probably drunk. It's the alcohol talking." At least Keiichi hoped to god it was the alcohol. He didn't want to think about what the alternative implied.

The trio began struggling with Tamiya, determined to wrest the crowbar away from him. But the big man was powerful enough to hold off all three.

"This is the way it has to be!" Tamiya shouted as everyone's hair began to stand on end.

Perched from her position high on top of the thunderheads, Mara-Satana summoned all of her mystical might and enchanted a bolt of lightning that would have done even Thor proud. Satisfied it had the necessary spells, she sent it roaring through the cloud to magically seek out its target far below. Delighted at finally resolving the empowerment issue, she looked through an opening in the cloud produced by the magic bolt as it passed through. "Hope you get a charge out of this, you moron! Ha ha ha… Eh?" The demoness looked more closely at where the bolt was destined. "Hmm, either he's reproduced himself asexually, or something unexpected has occurred."

Mara-Satana let out a tired sigh. Why didn't anything work out the way it was supposed to?

The bolt of enchanted lightning hit the crowbar just as the other three managed to grasp it. The mystic power destined for one ended up being equally distributed to four as the recoil from the energy threw all of them apart. Tamiya maintained a death grip on the crowbar.

As the smoke settled, all three slowly returned to their feet.

For a moment, Keiichi thought it was all over, that the lightning had struck him and he had gone to heaven. And then he saw Tamiya nearby, and realized that there was no way the two of them could have ended up in the same place. Besides, he still felt like a loser. If heaven couldn't cure that feeling, then nothing would, and he wanted to hold on to the idea that death would be able to hold some measure of peace for his soul.

He rose to his feet, ball and chain still dangling from his ankle. Irritated at the additional weight, he tugged at the object.

The metal clasp broke as though it had been made of tissue paper.

"Whoa. Talk about weak metal." Keiichi then began to assess the situation, and suddenly realized that besides feeling like a loser, he also felt a whole lot stronger.

"Ohh," Ootaki moaned as he rose to his feet fifteen feet away.

The sound reminded Keiichi of the other three people that had also been in the area of the bolt's effect. He looked over to the person closest to him and saw that the lightning had singed the top of Ootaki's hair completely off his head. Now that Keiichi looked a lot more closely, he realized that his sempai had a very flat head, and that his tall stock of hair had hidden that rather noticeable feature very well. He also noticed that, for some odd reason, Ootaki appeared much larger than before, mostly around the torso. Rather than being on the thin side, he looked much more like Tamiya with his new, inexplicable build.

"The lightning must have affected me more than I thought." Keiichi looked over to where Tamiya was slowly rising to his feet. While it wasn't quite as conspicuous, Tamiya did look a good bit larger as well. More like a power lifter than a large man that worked out occasionally.

Curious, Keiichi felt himself and gasped. Whereas before he had very little chest, almost to the point that he had an indentation rather than pecs, now he had what could only be regarded as a strapping amount of excess muscle. His arms and legs were the same way: thick, almost like pistons in an engine rather than appendages of a human body. He hefted the ball and chain as though they were made of papier-mâché. Also he felt an odd sort of… connection, for lack of a better term, with the ball and chain. Almost like it was an extension of himself rather than an inanimate object.

It was great. He was no longer a weenie. He was strong and buff and… still the same guy he was before he got bigger. It was an illusion. Nothing had really changed. He was just bigger now. Inside he remained the same timid, lovable loser he had been before. But at least he wasn't small. He was a tad better off than before, as long as he didn't let his newfound muscle turn to flab. Then he would be a fat loser. He silently vowed to begin working out, starting today.

A softer moan came from his left, shaking Keiichi out of his reverie. The sound caused him to recall one very important thing he had forgotten in his assessment of the weird situation.

"Megumi!" he cried out as he rushed to her side, only to recoil in shock at what was before him.

Before the lightning, his sister had been… proportioned… fairly average for a girl— not that he was any great judge since she was his sister— but now she was… bigger, for lack of a better term. Megumi had lamented to Keiichi a few times that she felt her chest was below average, to which he would reply, "I don't want to hear you talk about stuff like that! You're my sister, for crying out loud!" Now such matters were no longer a concern. On the bright side, her chest had unquestionably grown a good bit. On the downside, the rest of her had also increased to tremendous proportions. She looked like a professional bodybuilder, one that chugged a gallon of steroids with every meal. Especially noteworthy were her arms, which looked like twin pile drivers with how large they were.

The change did not go unnoticed by its recipient. Megumi looked down at herself in mute horror. The look of fear was frozen on her face for all of ten seconds before a cry of, "I'm a freak!" came bursting forth. The tears were hot on their heels a moment later.

Momentarily forgetting his own depression, Keiichi went over to console his sibling. He placed his hand on his shoulder and started to say, "Now, Megumi. No matter what you look like, you'll always be my sis—"

He didn't get a chance to finish as in her blind misery she backhanded her brother. The blow caught him cleanly under his jaw, hurling him away twenty feet through the air. He impacted solidly with the ground, tearing up a huge piece of turf. Much to Keiichi's surprise he was able to rise, his bones not only not pulverized but completely intact. He did feel sore from where Megumi had struck him, as though Tamiya had given him one of the big man's patented not so gentle slaps, but Keiichi was still in working order despite the tremendous force from the blow.

Tamiya started to make his way over as well, but unused to his additional mass, he misjudged one of his steps and nearly fell over. He quickly tried using the crowbar as a makeshift cane in an effort to keep from falling. As the sharpened end hit the ground, there was a tremendous roar and part of the hillside sheared off right where the crowbar had made contact with it.

All eyes turned to the destruction Tamiya inadvertently caused. Even the big man seemed taken aback by the carnage before him.

"When she said tough, she wasn't kidding," Tamiya mumbled.

"My hair," Ootaki wailed, suddenly realizing his own predicament.

"What just happened?" Keiichi said, trying to console Megumi. From a distance, this time.

Tamiya said, "We've been granted powers far beyond those of mortal men. This power has been granted for the express purpose of kicking the little jerk Aoshima's butt."

"And beating up Thor," Ootaki said. He instantly taken aback by his own words.

Keiichi was about to ask what his sempai was talking about when he felt a similar urge well up within him. "So I can ask her out on a date?" he said more to himself than the others.

"I want to, too. But I don't even like girls!" Megumi protested. Yet there was an undeniable desire to beat the heck out of the Goddess of Thunder with the intention of going out with her. It depressed her almost as much as her new physique. Not only was she a huge freak, but to make matters worse, evidently some previous lesbian tendencies that were so latent even she was unaware of their existence were now asserting themselves.

"Looks like her dance card is going to be full," Tamiya declared.

"I can't go out in public like this!" Megumi cried, bawling her eyes out.

Keiichi decided to try consoling his sister, again, "Cheer up, Megumi. You know, there are some guys that like girls that work out a lot."

"Who?" she cried.

"Yeah, who?" Ootaki parroted.

"You're not helping here," Keiichi hissed.

Deciding to take control of the situation, Tamiya said, "All right. I'm still president of the Motor Club, which means I'm in charge. In deference to Megumi, who doesn't want to be seen as a freak out in public—"

That redoubled Megumi's tears.

"—And since we all got this irresistible urge to attack the Goddess of Thunder, as well as avenge ourselves on that little jerk, Aoshima, who I just discovered cheated when he beat us in our previous contests, here's what we're going to do. We're going to go incognito, and make costumes for ourselves and hide our identities to the world at large. We'll be like superheroes, except for beating up another superhero."

"Wouldn't that make us villains?" Keiichi pointed out.

"Not if it's for her own good," Tamiya pointed out. "She wants to go out on a date, but there aren't any guys tough enough. So that means it falls to us. And just in case she's really a dyke, then she can go out with Megumi."

The girl's cries tripled.

Keiichi threw up his hands. "Fine. We'll hide our identities and wear really loose clothing so no one realizes we've all thrown on about two hundred pounds of muscle. What will we call ourselves?"

Tamiya thought about that. "Well, the way I see it, I want to wreck Aoshima's place for cheating us out of what's rightfully ours. And I got this crowbar too, so I'll call myself the Wrecker, and you'll be my… um… Wrecking Crew."

Keiichi wanted to protest, but couldn't come up with a better name. He decided giving up was preferable. "And our names?"

"Well, Megumi's got those big, powerful arms, so we'll call her Piledriver."

Megumi's cries, stopped as suddenly as they started. She sniffled, "Actually, I sort of like that. It has a nice ring to it. It makes me sound tough, yet feminine."

"And me?" Ootaki asked.

"You got that really flat head, so we'll call you Bulldozer."

The newly dubbed Bulldozer rubbed his head mournfully.

Keiichi finally summoned the nerve to ask. "And me?"

That one made Tamiya think. "Well, you got that ball and chain. Keep it around, and we'll call you…"

"The Flail?" Keiichi asked.

"Nah. We're keeping that wrecking kind of motif. Your name will be Thunderball."

"That's the name of a James Bond movie."

"Maybe it'll be lucky and you'll be able to pick up women just as easily as he did," Tamiya said. "So, Thunderball it is."

"But I didn't agree—"

Tamiya didn't hear a word. "Now here's what we do. First we'll sew neat costumes. Then we get our revenge against the Four Wheels Club. Then it'll be time to take on Thor. And then we'll… build and race more cars, I guess."

Keiichi sighed. What a miserable situation he was in. He just knew everyone would think he was a bad guy. He'd end up going to jail and fending off the advances of men instead of women. The only possible upside would be there was an offhand chance Tamiya was right and he'd get a chance to go out on a date with a goddess. For some odd reason, thinking that made him feel better. Silently he decided to try his best to impress Thor once they went out on a date, and maybe she would want to go out with him again without having to beat her up.

The question continued rebounding in his mind. A goddess as a girlfriend? There was an odd sort of appeal to that. Maybe things would start looking up if he managed that one.

Author's notes: And that's that for that. Wow! Did that all in one day (hopefully it didn't show. ^_^) Revised it today, but the actual work was done yesterday. Like I said, too silly to fit in the real universe, but when the idea came to me it wouldn't die until I wrote it down. Large for an omake, I know, but that was the length the story turned out to be. With any luck this will get me restarted on finishing the Ten Rings arc of Avenging. It's either that or I finally start work on the Dual! Lemon or a little article on recommendations on how to help get C&C. It really looks like it'll be one of those three, which are really first and foremost on my mind. I did do the rough draft of the prologue to a Ranma wishfic series that will hopefully have a little twist that I don't think was done before, (people on FFIRC will probably know what I'm referring to, since we discussed it extensively a few months ago) Once I'm done with the above three things, I might go over to it. It'll be humor oriented, and not like some of the moodier work I've done of late.

BTW: If you have to ask who Kleppe is, you won't get the joke. ^_^

That's that for that. Hope you liked what I wrote. Drop me a line if you did.

D.B. Sommer

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Last revision: May 21, 2007