Sharon chased the diminutive pervert back and forth across the rooftops with increasing ire. Who knew the lithe freak could out run a broom flying witch, and out dodge her curses and hexes. Of course, she told herself, it was the need not to blow up the photos that held her back from just outright fireballing the runt. She needed those cursed images back in tact; just in case she had to reedit them to avoid having the Rule Of Three rebound the “camera never lies” spell back on her threefold. She hated it when that happened.
That, and he’s snatched her favourite mystic blue silk bra. Which was too expensive to replace. And … wait, where did that pile of trash come from?
“That’s it,” Sharon cursed as she picked herself out of the dumpster, “no more little miss nice witch!”
“Where in the world is Ranma Saotome?”
Ukyo watched the clock with annoyance. She’d caught glimpses of Ranma during the day and wanted to ask him what was up. It wasn’t like her Ran–chan to walk around in girl form acting like he wanted to be the centre of every boy’s attention. All those ‘accidental’ little bends and stretches tugging the loose cloth just so to expose curvaceous flesh. It just wasn’t like him. Oh, he normally acted downright femmy when he wanted discount snacks, but this wasn’t just his super–cute routine at work; Ranma was acting like a dirty–flirty–in–short–skirty tramp.
She had a plan, but it had not worked out. An offer of a free meal should have given her an opening to confront him. But it seemed that she missed him on his usual route out of school, and time waited for no food stall owner. She had to get cooking.
“Pft. He’ll be around soon enough,” Ukyo comforted herself as she left the post to return to work. Whatever he was up to, she was sure his belly would bring him around sooner or later. His strange behaviour couldn’t break him that far out of his usual routine. “But where can he …?”
An explosion erupted from somewhere in the shopping district.
“Ah. A new martial arts challenger?” Ukyo wondered. Well, that could maybe explain things.
“Meh, what was that?” Ranma wondered as he jumped down behind the toilets, nowhere near the explosion.
“I… don’t know,” one of the boys on the grass admitted nervously. There were times when they didn’t want to hang out with an insanely powerful martial artist, and this was one of them. “Why… why don’t you go find out.”
“Nah, Daisuke,” Ranma sighed as he sat down on the embankment next to them. “I can’t be bothered with all that taday. So what are ya guys up ta?”
“Oh, just, … hanging around,” another answered. “Boring stuff, you know.”
“Sounds good, Hiroshi,” Ranma replied. “Say, what’s that?” He made a snatch and grab of the bottle hidden behind one boy’s back. “Ah, root beer. Do ya mind, I’m parched.”
“That’s not ro–– ah, no go ahead,” Hiroshi answered as it was already too late to stop him, and after a moment he didn’t want to.
Ranma popped the cap off with a flick of his thumb, tilted his head back and wrapped his lips around the neck of the bottle. The beer swirled down Ranma’s throat in a single chug. “Ahhh… That hit the spot,” he sighed, shaking the last drops onto his outstretched tongue. “What?”
The boys’ eyes had been glued to him, as they watched a sexy girl chug down a bottle and play her luscious lips and tongue over its head.
“Nnna… nothing,” Daisuke boldly answered and held out his bottle. “Ah, ya looked really parched, Buddy. Do ya want another one?”
“Sure, it can’t hurt,” Ranma answered, and downed the second bottle. The second of several. The boys never got to drink their beer behind the toilets that day, but Ranma became very relaxed.
“So … whatcha guys do fer fun?” he slurred after it turned out there were no more bottles to drain.
“A we just sit back, drink, hang out, read … ahhh…”
“Read what?” Ranma asked, his curiosity sparked.
“Ahhahah nothing. Just some magazines we got from…. You wouldn’t… eeep!”
The latest was the result of Ranma spotting the glossy magazine, flinching it out from the hiding spot in Hiroshi’s shirt, and flipping it open to read with widening eyes. ‘This is it,’ Hiroshi mouthed to Daisuke. ‘We’re all going to die.’
“Meh? What’s so interesting about… man, those are huge! How does she walk around with those all day? I mean, these puppies are annoying enough when they jiggle while I’m working out, ya know what I mean?”
“Not really,” Daisuke answered, trying to keep his eyes off Ranma while he demonstrated how much his breasts jiggled and wiggled. Trying and not succeeding. It was hypnotic.
“It’s alright for you,” Hiroshi defended. “Ya get to see that stuff every day. We gotta make do with what we get.”
“Meh. It’s overrated. I mean, look, do these get you all hot and bothered?”
“I yay yi yiyi yi,” stammered Daisuke as the part of his brain in charge of telling Ranma to cover up suddenly stopped working.
“I mean, they are just breasts,” Ranma continued obliviously, looking down at his exposed rack and ignoring the ruin it was wreaking. What’s to get excited about? They don’t do anything. They just hang there and flop around. See. See?”
“I see, I see,” agreed Hiroshi, his eyes glued to the hypnotic bouncing.
Sat Dec 06 06:05:25 2008