Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and its characters and settings belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Kitty, and Viz Video.

Chapter 1

Deep within the shadowed recesses of a diseased mind, a plan was forming. It was a masterpiece, a true example of strategic perfection implemented with a minimum of hassle. Yes, Genma couldn't wait to tell his friend the good news.

"Come back here, Ranma!" Akane shouted, smashing aside a few students unfortunate enough to cross her path. Her mallet, her favorite of the collection, hung from her hand, ready to be wielded in the righteous punishment of suspected pervert, fiancé, and martial artist, Ranma Saotome.

Ranma crouched on the outer wall of the school grounds, grinning as his thick-hipped, tomboy of a fiancée charged towards him. "What's the matter, Akane, can't handle the truth?" he asked with sharp sarcasm.

A dozen feet from her target, Akane froze, glaring at the boy through anger filled eyes. "I. DO. NOT. STUFF. MY. BRA." Each word was bitten off and by the time she finished her proclamation an angry battle aura pulsed around her.

"Then what's this?" Ranma asked, holding up a piece of foam shaped roughly like the cup of a bra, even having a small protrusion that could easily pass for a nipple.

Akane's aura faltered and she glanced down at her chest. The left breast was noticeably smaller than the right. Others around the courtyard were beginning to whisper guardedly, several going so far as to snicker and point. Ranma smirked triumphantly and threw the object to Akane, intentionally hitting her in the face with it. With the return of her 'accessory', Akane found her anger once more. Now, though, it was tempered by rage, embarrassment, betrayal, jealousy, and another five or six emotions that mostly involved really bad stuff happening to the person who invoked said emotions.

"Die!!!!" the maddened girl screamed, throwing her mallet in a double-handed overhead swing that sent it careening in Ranma's direction, a sizable load of chi infused within its structure making it glow a fiery red.

Ranma, expecting a wild charge or maybe a thrown 'hammer of death', froze, unable to comprehend Akane somehow pulling off what appeared to be an advanced chi manipulation technique. Finally, when enough sense returned for Ranma to realize that dodging would be in his best interest, it was too late. He wasn't positioned well enough to do more than expose himself even more to the now car-sized attack. Muscles went slack and chi flowed readily, all defensive measures designed to lessen the force of the blow and to allow Ranma to be carried along with it instead of absorbing most of the energy himself.

Ranma hovered over a small mirror, unable to close his eyes or drift away from the horrifying scenes that the infernal device played out for him.

—Ranma, in female form, dressed in bright pink fuku, tiny bikini top, and nothing else—

"Oh, yes, do it to me good, baby, uhhhhhhhhh…ummm…" the redhead groaned as an animatronic tentacle-monster had its way with her.

"Cut! That's perfect Ranko. Take a break and we'll get the props set up for the next scene," said the director of the latest in a long and successful line of 'Ranko: Adventures In The Pornoverse' pornography series.

—Ranma, a much older Ranma, strapped down by a dozen three-inch thick titanium bars, and wearing an orange convict outfit—

"Whenever you're ready, Ms. Tendo," the guard told Kasumi as she stepped up to the oversized electrical circuit on the wall.

A newspaper lying discarded on the floor suddenly zoomed in close enough for Ranma to read. 'Convicted rapist, murderer, drug dealer, and child pornographer, Ranma Saotome, to face first execution in over three decades.'

Without hesitation, Kasumi flipped the switch and the older Ranma twitched slightly. He turned to face Kasumi and the warden. "Kinda tickles, can we try agai—" the comment was cut off as a frightened guard emptied an entire magazine of incendiary shells into Ranma's chest.

—Ranma, hidden within the purple costume and totally obscured from normal vision, yet still identifiable to Nightmare Ranma by his aura—

"I love you, you love me, let's get together and be a family," sang the costumed Ranma from within his Barney suit. Hundreds of children in the audience screeched in immature bliss.

Finally, after more scenes than I can currently imagine had played out, and Ranma was seriously starting to wonder whether or not he was dead and if this was Hell or just something very close. Damn Nabiki and her demon friends, damn them to Hell… wait, that really didn't sound right; not for the demons anyway. No, Nabiki could stay in hell, but the demons, damn them to Heaven.

"Ranma, wake your ass up and save Akane," Nabiki growled as she repeatedly slapped the youth. That she was currently in a swimming pool-sized crater, with Ranma as the epicenter, and Akane as the creator of the new landscaping didn't matter. There was some crazy floating sword chasing her baby sister around the schoolyard and Ranma was the only person she knew of who could deal with that kind of thing. Poor Kuno, and he'd thought it a gift from the kami, right up until it shaved him bald and left him a whimpering puddle of 'pathetic' personified.

"But mommy, I don't wanna wear lipstick, it's icky…" Ranma mumbled in his sleep.

"This is sad. What does it take to get through that thick skull of yours, Ranma?" Nabiki asked the inert body. Sighing, she called to one of her go-fers to throw down a rope. Once she got the line, she tied it firmly around Ranma's ankles and gave the command for her assembled workforce to haul Ranma out of the pit. It wouldn't do at all for her to actually get her hands dirty.

"What do you wish for us to do with him, Nabiki-sama?" a plain looking girl with glasses asked her mentor/mistress. Nabiki was beginning to regret getting that imp to put that geas on all her associates. Sure, it made things such as insubordination and embezzling a thing of the past, but meaningful conversation and creativity got thrown out in the mud. Oh well, she always had been the brains of the operation, anyway.

"Dunk him in the swimming pool a couple times, that oughtta snap him out of it." Activating the curse was a convenient way of waking Ranma up, returning his sanity, and making a large sum of money on hot water when the water heater 'mysteriously' stopped working only days after last being repaired.

Meanwhile, Akane ran around the courtyard, screaming like a frightened girl, mostly cause she was a frightened girl, as a large sword chased her around like it was playing tag with her. Every so often it would dart in and score a hit, never actually injuring Akane, but her dress was little more than tattered ribbons of cloth and the students of Furinkan, those not too scared to stay, were getting a rather revealing show. Every escape attempt, either by gate, smashed hole in wall, or simply hiding met with disaster. It knew where she would be and blocked her path every time.

"Waaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!! What did I do to deserve this? Ranma, I know this is all your fault!!!"

Not too far away, just as a group of glassy-eyed students were preparing to toss him into the chilly depths of the pool, Ranma muttered, "Stupid tomboy, always acting like she's a martial artist… worst martial artist I ever saw…"

Nabiki's grin was nearly feral as she glanced down at her micro-recorder. It hung from a loop sewn into her waistband and she always had it running during her waking hours, just in case some juicy tidbit of knowledge came her way and she needed proof to back it up.

"Okay, one the count of three…one…two…three…" Ranma was much much heavier than he looked, and the less than fit students barely managed to get Ranma out of their hands before he dropped like a stone. Leave it to Ranma's luck to recieve another dangerous head injury only minutes after the first one, at least this time it was only concrete, and not chi powered atomic mallets.

Xiombarg chuckled as he viewed the mortal female running for her miserable life as his sword carried out it command to protect its master, even going so far as to use the boy's subconscious desire for vengeance to taunt the girl into an hysterical state of fear. Maybe he should have done this sooner, it was even more fun than torturing the real Michael Jackson.

"Oh, Akane, my love, if only I could express my true feeling to you," Ryoga lamented for the tenth time in the last hour. By now, his aura had reached its daily peak, and soon the simple manifestation would begin to tire him out and he would have to sleep. Everyday it was the same routine— wake up, throw a few shi shi hokodan to get rid of the depression brought on by a night of miserable dreams, eat something, followed by another shi shi hokodan or two to get rid of the depression brought on by not being able to eat Akane's delectable food… the cycle repeated for various reasons and Ryoga ended up expending enough energy on a daily basis to power most small cities.

The lost boy looked up and frowned. He didn't remember the sky being made of purple flames the last time he checked. Sigh, he was probably in America again. Kami knew the place was weird enough. The locals had probably just bought some new clouds or something.

"…the duty of a martial artist is to protect the weak and innocent…" Ranma said in a voice not his own and sounding much like Genma's. Nabiki nodded, grateful that the eldest Saotome had drilled that particular trait into Ranma moronic little head. She didn't even want to think about how he would be if he didn't have that whole 'protect innocents' BS guiding his actions.

"Duty sucks [censored][censored], and licks [censored][censored][censored], not to mention [censored] and [censored]," Ranma finished, now sounding like himself.

"Wow, who woulda thought you even knew those words?" This was getting to be more trouble than Akane was worth. Beckoning one of her servants, Nabiki commanded, "Just bring a bucket of water." That's what she should have done in the first place, but it would have been much more satisfying to see Ranma flounder in the pool as consciousness returned.

Within a minute there were seven underlings gathered at Nabiki's side, and they all had buckets of water. "Did I ask for more than one bucket of water?" Sigh. "Never mind, I'll deduct it from your salary." Hah, mind-controlled sla— employees didn't complain about much. The girl grabbed a bucket and said, "Don't just stand there, go get pictures of Akane, and get a few of Kuno. Make sure to get his new haircut in all of them."

Only after making sure they all ran in the proper direction did Nabiki upend the container on Ranma. Besides getting a good deal wetter, nothing happened to the pigtailed martial artist. Nabiki's eyes bugged out and her hair stood on end. How… when did Ranma get cured?! Before getting truly upset, Nabiki checked the water remaining within the bucket. There were only a few drops, but it was enough for her to tell that the water was warm. The middle Tendo felt like crying, but steeled herself and went after the water herself. If she ever got her hands on that little imp it was gonna wish it didn't have so many tentacles when she got finished with it.

Acting on instincts she never knew she had, Akane ducked, though some would say she had gotten lucky and tripped on an exposed tree root, just barely missing being impaled on the relentless sword that was making sport of her. By now the girl was down to her panties, those only hanging on her by a few threads, an equally damaged bra that was even more noticeably lopsided, and a strip of blouse that was tucked under the one fully functional bra strap she still had.

Hiroshi cheered the sword on— silently, of course— as Daisuke used his video camera to get as much footage of a sweaty, almost naked Akane as possible.

"This is great, Roshi. A few more minutes and she won't have anything on," Daisuke stated happily. He never allowed his camera to waver, even as Akane lost her panties and was reduced to jumping around with her hands busily covering her goods.

Tears of happiness in his eyes, Hiroshi said, "I wish I could get my own perverted sword. I wonder who that one belongs to?"

Daisuke didn't immediately reply, preoccupied as he was with getting a zoomed in close up of Akane's legs spread as she jumped over the crater created by her attack on Ranma. "Probably the old freak."

A few seconds of pregnant silence, then in unison the pair shouted, "Our hero!!!!"

"Finally," Nabiki huffed, dumping the cold water from the pool over Ranma.

Ranma sat up with a startled grunt and held her hand to her head. "Ugh, worse dreams I've ever had, stupid tomboy, stupid mallet," she grunted. Slowly, equilibrium gradually righting itself, Ranma climbed to her feet and shook her head painfully. "Thanks, I guess, Nabiki. I'll pay you later, don't have any cash on me now."

"Don't just stand there, you dope, go save Akane!" Nabiki snapped at her. No one would ever accuse Ranma of being bright, Nabiki thought.

"Huh?" she said, ringing water out of her sodden shirt.

"Idiot, there's a sword chasing Akane all over the courtyard. You think you could go save her before it makes Akane-kabobs out of her?"

Jeez, again? How could the tomboy get herself into trouble so often? "Okay, okay, I'm on my way. Don't get excited."

Ranma arrived on the scene, unaware of the events that had occurred only minutes before. Everyone was gone now, including Akane and the sword Nabiki said was chasing her. She frowned, nearly convinced that Nabiki was playing an elaborate joke on her. Before she turned to leave, though, Ranma noticed that the ground was littered with cut and torn strips of cloth and further observation revealed the match to Akane's boob thing resting under a tree. The one she'd grabbed with the amaguriken was only a few feet away, so how had that one gotten all the way over there?

Thinking back, Ranma couldn't determine why she'd done to Akane what she had, even if it was funny. She shrugged the incident aside, attributing it to overexposure to tomboy. The least she could do was get the fake tits for her fiancée before some pervert stole them.

Foam breast in hand, Ranma made her way over to the tree to retrieve the other one.

"Ranma, give me your shirt," came a command from up in the branches of the tree.

Ranma's head jerked up and she saw Akane sitting high up on one of the tree's branches, a bundle of leaves obscuring her crotch and a leafy stick hiding her chest.

"What are ya doing up there, Akane?" Ranma asked without thinking.

"You idiot, what does it look like I'm doing?" Ranma smirked and was about to reply snidely, but Akane interrupted, "Never mind. Just give me your clothes so I can get down from here and go home. When I find out whose sword that was, I'm gonna pound them soooo bad. I bet it was Happosai, that little perverted troll…" Akane continued to rant for a minute or two, ignoring Ranma as she went through the courtyard at amaguriken speed, collecting all the fragments of Akane's uniform.

"We're home," Ranma announced loudly as he and Akane entered the Tendo home. He was once again male, courtesy of warm water collected from some kind and desperate soul at the local ice cream shop.

"Better watch out for Nabiki, Akane," Ranma warned only half seriously. If another prince was planning to show, Ranma needed to train, so he headed for the dojo. What else could a magic sword signify?

"Don't think I've forgotten about what you did at school, Ranma," Akane said before stomping upstairs.

Halfway up the stairs, Nabiki appeared at the top. She took one look at her younger sister and burst out laughing. Akane looked like a partially mummified stripper who'd been attacked by a swarm of demonic moths. Poorly woven strips of cloth formed a barely adequate bikini top, and the loincloth-type thing hanging from her waist had to be quite drafty.

Akane glared at her sister, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Nabiki was in an entirely different league than her sister, and she didn't want to get on her bad side.

To be continued.

Author's notes: This fic is sort of choppy and short, but it's the best I could manage with my screwed up keyboard. I'd feel like writing, start, then get so frustrated about having to copy and paste punctuation and caps lock ever capitalized word that I'd give up. If I wasn't so cheap and lazy, I would've bought a new one by now, but since I'm going home for Thanksgiving I'm just gonna switch this one with the keyboard to the computer there. No one ever uses the thing, so they won't notice. C+C [couldn't even get a freaking 'and' symbol to display] welcome at dark_phoneix@hotmail.com

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Last revision: May 21, 2007