"It was a dumb story any way." you decide, "Really, The
Saotome School of Any Thing Goes Marital Arts, going to
Dirt Hill, Texas to arrange a deal with a local gym that
teaches the Clearwater School of Any Thing Goes Indian
Fighting?  Only to find out that they are their cosmic
twins?  It's just too silly for words.  And the writer
doesn't even know how to spell."

You dismiss the thought from your mind, and continue your
walk.  No more seedy alleys, or fogy waterfronts for you.

But then you spot a filmier sinister looking figure in a
near by phone booth, furiously punching in a number.  He
spots you, and drops the receiver.

"Darn it!  You just made me lose count.  I was going to
call you with one of those 103215798 long distant discount
numbers.  Good thing I, Code  Name D, your loyal Ranma 1/2
fan fic smuggler, ran into you eh?"

He opens up his spy cloak, and begins to pull things out,
apparently looking for something.

"Let me see.  Where is it.  Fake nose?  No.  Kitchen sink?
No.  Hah!  I was looking for that... last week.  Grr.  A
stinky old man with a panty collection?  No.  Ah here it
is."

Code Name  D hands you yet another envelope.  You shrug
your shoulders.  "Why not."  The folder says Ranma 1/2:
Curse of the Ghost Dance, Act IV,  The Journey to Dirt Hill.

"I worked really hard on this one." Code Name D said, "You
wouldn't  believe how hard the Spanish speakers fight for
these things.  Why just the other day I..."

Suddenly, the phone rings.  A bit perplexed, Code Name  D
reluctantly answers it, and places the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

"!!! M O S H I !!! M O S H I !!!"  The volume at the other
end is so loud, that it blasted Code Name D against the
side of the booth, where he promptly collapses in a heap.

Looking to your right, you see the equally familiar
Japanese Copyright agent, holding a bullhorn into a cell
phone.  Then suddenly, as if afraid of getting caught in
the act, he hides  his hands behind his back, and grins in
innocents.

"Oh yah.", Code Name D rumbles painfully from his heap, "I
almost forgot.  Ranma is owned by Rumiko Takahashi. Don't
be a pirate, buy her stuff. uuuughf...  Could some one tell
me the number for 911?"

+----------------------------------------------+ 
|           Code Name D presents:              |
+----------------------------------------------+
|                 Ranma 1/2                    |
|       The Curse of the Ghost Dance           |
+----------------------------------------------+
|                   Act IV                     |
|            Journey to Dirt Hill              |
+----------------------------------------------+

	Those black and beady eye's did seem to stair at her.

	Akane sat quietly on the bed in the guest room.  Feeling
vary much out of place as the decor seemed to scream at her
about leaving home.

	She frowned to herself, and allowed herself to fall
backwards onto the bed.

	"No wonder Ranma makes fun of me.  If I can't even handle
a day away from home."

	She sat up again, and tried to look at the room with a
different attitude,  as an explorer might look at the world.

	The walls were coated with a faded blue wall paper that
was decorated with small white flowers and stray flower
peddles.  The perimeter where the walls met the ceiling had
a wall paper trim of white and blue patterns, with the trim
pealing in places.

	There were no pictures to speak of, and the only thing
that was hanging on the wall, was a painting of a rusted
windmill all alone on a green hill top with a tree growing
next to it, pushing it over.

	The room itself only held the bed upon which she sat, a
small dresser, a desk, and a book shelf that appeared to
hold binders of documents and a few text books.

	It was probably used as a den when there were no guests to
speak of.

	On top of the desk, was a small caddie that included some
stationary, pencils, and envelopes.  As well as a few post
cards and a book of American stamps for which to send
letters home just in case they might decide to do so.  It
wasn't a bad idea.

	But the doll was still staring at her.

	Akane's gaze found itself drawn back to where she had
placed it.  In plane view on a small shelf in front of the
window, next to a china doll dressed in a flowing blue gown
that she once saw the famous Scarlet O'Hare wear in Gone
With the Wind.

	Akane finally stood up from the bed, took the corn husk
doll, and placed it in front of her as she sat down at the
desk.  From there, she examined it closer.

	"So, what am I suppose to do with you?", she said to the
doll.

	".... treat the doll tenderly.... with passion and
gentleness that you would show your love in your
dreams....."

	Akane blinked.  It was only her memory from last night,
but it was a strong memory of the wind, talking to her as
if she had some how assessed the doll's instruction manual.

	"Threat the doll as I would Ranma, huh?", she said, still
staring at the doll., "Hmmm."

	She stood up, and glared down at the doll.

	"How dare you insult my cooking, Ranma!  You didn't even
take a bite.  How do you know you wont like it?", she said.
She frowned, and shook her head.

	".... treat the doll tenderly.... with passion...."

	She sat back down in the chair.

	"Oh, I should have known better.", she said, as she turned
her attention back to the china doll perched on the window
sill.

	"Please, Akane."

	"Huh?"

	Akane turned back around.  Fully expecting Ranma to be
looking at her from the door with a sad expression on his
face.

	But the door was still closed.  No one had come it.  But
it was still Ranma's voice.  She was sure of it.

	"I'm leaving.", the phantom Ranma said.

	Akane blinked again, and looked back at the doll.  And she
stared, looking at it closer.  Its black stitch eye's
looked different some how.  As if it's features were
more... Asian... more like...

	"Ranma?", she said.

	"But I'll be back.", the phantom Ranma said.  The voice
was coming from the doll.

	She then heard something outside.  What sounded like a
motor being started up.

	She got up, and moved over to the window.  Outside, she
saw an old beat up half rusted hulk of a land rover propel
itself down the drive way to the dirt road out front.  It
looked like something one might expect to see in one of
those African movies.  The vehicles with the tires tied to
the side's to fend off rhinoceroses.  The spare tire was
even lashed to the front hood, doing double duty as a hood
ornament.

	Sitting in the passenger seat was Ranma, with Tarry behind
the wheel. Both were now in their proper forms, as the land
rover speed at a reckless speed down the driveway to the
dirt road that led out front of the ranch.  

	"No.", she suddenly said.

	She pushed forward, working to lift the window.

	"How could I have been so heartless.  I didn't even say
good by to him."

	The window was stubborn, as it was frozen shut by years of
neglect and layers of paint.  Akane really had to work
against it.  But in her struggle, she bumped up agents the
desk.  The doll fell, and began to role to the edge of the
desk.

	"Oh no ! ! ! !"

	Her actions were swift.  She abandoned the window, and
rescued the doll before falling over the edge.  When the
doll was safely within her grasp, she allowed a sigh of
relief, and then sat down on the floor, ignoring the chair.

	"How could I have been so clumsy.", she said to the doll,
"Could you ever forgive me?"

	"Of course I forgive you, it was an accident, right?  And
you did save me.", the doll said, using Ranma's voice from
some where deep within her mind.	

	"Oh my darling Ranma.", Akane said, "Your not hurt, are
you?  I'm glad.  I don't think I could have forgiven myself
if any thing happened to you.  I... I love you Ranma."

	She then held the doll to her bosom, and stood up to look
out the window again.  The old rusted beat up truck had
already disappeared beyond the next hill.  The only
evidence of it's passing was a white cloud of dust than
hung in the air.

	"I love you too, Akane."

	"Just come back to me, safe, Okay.  Then we will be
together again.", Akane said.

	"I will.  I promise."

< + + + >

	Ranma Saotome never had a rougher ride in his life.  He
had ridden in a car before, but that was always on actually
paved roads, with some one who actually knew how to drive
and who valued life.

	But the way Tarry was driving, one might have thought that
she was aiming for the trees and ditches.  The only thing
that saved them thus far, was the fact that a pot hole
would usually toss them to the other side of the road
before they would careen into a tree or rock.

	Ranma always considered himself a brave person.  After
all, he took on things that would make any other martial
artists turn white.  But right now, his knuckles were
white, as he desperately clamped onto the dented and rusted
metal dashboard, hanging on for dear life.

	He was riding in an old style land rover, like those that
he saw in the African import movies complete, with a full
set of warn out tires that had been tied off of each
fender, as if they were collision bumpers.  The windshield
was folded down, allowing a full spray of rock and debris
to pummel him in the face.

	Over the hood, some one had panted in white, English
lettering, "The Anti Christ".  Now Ranma didn't know a
great deal about Christians, but he was very certain that
this was a bad thing.

	The engine roared and groaned, as if it was protesting
every inch of the way.  And as if the land rover had earned
it's name, Tarry seemed to be in a pitch battle against the
machine.  Madly spinning the wheel and throwing gears, and
plotting a dangerously weaving course across the dirt road.
Some times, swerving with such violence, that only a crude
seat belt held him in place.

	He had been on roller coasters that were less jarring than
this drive.  Including the one where he fought Prince Toma.

	"Say Tarry, maybe I should drive.", Ranma said as he held
on to the dashboard with enough strength to turn his
knuckles white.

	"What's that suppose to mean?", Tarry hisses, "You don't
like women drivers?"  She responded by suddenly leaping the
Anti Christ across the road.

	"Hay, that was uncalled-for!  I just like breathing."

	

	The truck had suddenly hit something, the largest pot hole
so far.  The impact was so great that Ranma would have been
throw from the jeep, if it weren't for the fact that he was
securely lashed to the seat with a rope that was serving as
a makeshift seat belt.

	"Thank the Gods for seat belts.", Ranma sighed.

	"Seat belts are over rated.  They haven't helped my
driving one bit.", Tarry said.

	"I can see that.  You haven't miss a pot hole yet.  You're
even driving on the wrong side of the road." Ranma said.

	"Say, your right.  I am on the wrong side of the road.",
Tarry admitted, "And so is that guy, and that one over
there.  Gee Ranma, they all appear to be on the WRONG side
of the road."

	"Actually, the seem to be getting off the road the moment
they see you coming." Ranma said.

	"I heard that!" Tarry snapped.

	Within a few minutes of frantic (and to Ranma, desperate
and harrowing) driving, they arrived at the out skirts of
Dirt Hill.

	It was a miserable speck of a town that seemed to have
more abandoned building than occupied ones.  Never the
less, it was still a quite looking place.  The main street
was actually well maintained, with tall light polls dotted
ether side of a wide street.

	As far as he could tell though, there wasn't any grass,
just sidewalks, and pavement.  Or at least down main street
any way.

	One building was an old looking brick structure with a
cement lane standing guard outside, and a flag pole next to
it where the American flag gently waved in a slow moving
breeze.  There was an old red brick school, with a play
ground next to it with a number of little kids playing ball
or tag.  Some of the older kids were even playing Baseball.

	In all, it was a lot like that Norman Rockwell art that he
saw in a museum once.  As American as you could get, with,
or without Mount Rushmore, or the Statue of Liberty.  A
place of tranquil serenity.  That is until every one saw
Tarry charging down the road like a one woman heard of
buffalo.  Mothers quickly grabbed their kids by the arm and
yanked them to safety.  Pedestrians sprinted towards the
sidewalk, clearing the intersections.  Shopkeepers
scrambled to bring their wares away from the curb.

	When they reached the outskirts, the rock road suddenly
gave way to pavement.  But where the two surfaces meet, was
not completely level, with the city street being a few
centimeters higher than the dirt road.

	The moment the Anti Christ hit the change in surface,
there was a tremendous shock, and the land rover was sent
flying throw the air.

	Ranma held on for dear life, as the wind whipped throw his
air, and they went sailing directly for a statue of some
civil war hero that had been erected in the center of town.
But Tarry's only response, was to begin cursing in English
that Ranma's pendent couldn't, or wouldn't translate.

	The land rover collided with the road, just shy of the
statue.  The impact caused the rover to swerve, causing one
of the fender covered tires to hit the base of the statue
first.

	"WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!" Ranma screamed as the Anti Christ was
sent into a raped spin, turning several 360s as it careened
towards one of the empty parking stalls at the side of the
road.

	The Anti Christ was suddenly came to a violent stop as the
rear wheels hit the road curb.  The impact was so great,
that Ranma's seat came lose, and he was sent tumbling into
the cargo bay behind his seat.

	Then, every thing was quiet, with the exception of the
Anti Christ still growling in protest as it idled.

	"Here we are.", Tarry said with the hint of music in her
tone.  As if it was just another average drive into town.

	She turned the ignition off, the Anti Christ refused to
die, and continued to sputter vainly for some time.

	Ranma slowly began to extract himself from the Anti
Christ, crawling over the side, and onto the ground.  He
stood up slowly, half expecting the ground to heave out
from under him at any moment.

	Tarry got out as well, and walked to the font of the Anti
Christ.

	"Quit running!" she shouted, slamming her fist into the
hood.  The Anti Christ backfired once, then died completely.

"Well Ranma.  Welcome to Dirt Hill." Tarry said, "Now I do
have to warn you.  Some of the local folk can be a little
eccentric.  And you really need to watch out for old man
Goober.", Tarry said.

	"Who?", Ranma said.

	"THE GERMANS ARE COMING ! ! !      THE GERMANS ARE COMING
! ! !"

	Suddenly, an elderly, heavy set, white haired man charged
from around the corner.  He was wearing a US Army uniform
that was about ten sizes too small for his punch and arms,
and a green and black military helmet, covered with
camouflage netting, and a single pack of cigarettes stuck
into the netting.  The old man quickly spied Ranma.  Still
dressed in his native garb, he was not hard to spot.

	A scowl appeared on his scared and wrinkled face, as he
razed a battered old riffle with a bayonet mounted on the
barrel.

	"There's the invader men!  AFTER HIM ! ! !"

	Tarry placed her palm over her face to hid her shame, and
pointed in the old man's direction.

	"Him.", she said with a sigh.

	"Yaaayyyyy!!!", old man Goober shouted as he broke into a
full charge, heading directly for Ranma.

	Ranma recoiled.  There were stories of Japanese tourists
getting shot in the Unites States, and with horror, he
realized' that he was going to be a another statistic.

	"Please!  Don't Shoot me! ! !", Ranma cried.

	Then suddenly, before Goober could plunge the bayonet into
Ranma's chest, a foot landed squarely in Goober's face  It
was Tarry's foot, and she held him at leg's length.

	"Oh please.", Tarry said, "That gun hasn't been fired for
fifty years.  And even the N.R.A. won't give this nut any
ammunition."

	Goober then dropped his gun, his fingers still twitching
as Tarry removed her foot from his face.

	"Grrr!  Out of my way!!!", Goober shouted at Tarry.

	"And let you attack my guest?  I don't think so.", Tarry
said, "The war is over, you stupid old man!  Besides, he
Japanese, not German."

	Goober recoiled in horror.  He then glared at Tarry.

	"Them are even worse!!  I knew it.  You body snatcher!
Your in league with the German war machine, monster!  As if
taking poor helpless and frail Tarry away to some alien
planet..."

	"I'm not frail!!", Tarry shouted, getting up in Goober's
face.

	"Of course your not!  Your the body snatcher!", Goober
said, also getting into Terry's face, "You... monster!  And
I'll prove it!  I'll prove it to the world!  Ready men!"

	Suddenly, Goober reached behind his back, and produced a
mega sized squirt gun that was nearly as long as his riffle.

	"Ahhh!", Tarry said, dogging from one side, than to the
other, in order to avoid the sprays of cold water.

	"Give it up, body snatcher, monster!  We've got you
cornered at last.  No place to hid."

	Suddenly, Tarry slipped in behind Ranma, and a blast of
cold water struck him square in the face as Tarry hid
behind him.

	Then, Tarry suddenly finding herself standing behind
girl-type Ranma, who was still blinking in confusion.

	Goober's face opened up with the expression of pure
horror.  His jaw dropped open, and his eye's grew so wide
that Ranma thought his eye balls might fall from their
sockets.  Goober then dropped his mega squirt gun, and
clutched his heart has he gasped for air.

	"There... there... two body snatchers!  A girl body
snatcher!"  Suddenly, Goober turned, and sprinted down the
town street, his arms flaying about him as he ran in fear.

	"Their breeding!!!  Run for it, men!!!  Run for your
lives!!!"

	The whole incident left girl-type Ranma, blinking in
confusion.  She then looked around at the hand full of
residence who saw the incident.  Including a tall and
rather busty looking blonde who wore a short pink and white
skirt.  In fact, she was staring rather intensely.

	"What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a guy turn into
a girl before?" Ranma-chan said.

	The woman only continued to stare at her for a moment.
Then suddenly, she reached out and grabbed Ranma for a hug.

	"And I though I was the only one!", the woman cried,
spouting a fountain of tears, but she did so with a mans
voice.

	"Yah yah.", Tarry said, clearly unimpressed, "Cry me a
river why don't you, George."  With that, Tarry grabbed the
woman by the back of her blouse, and pulled her off Ranma.

	"Hay, I told you not to use my real name!", the woman
shouted, getting into Tarry's face, "Just for that, I'm not
going to call you later."  With that, the woman marched
off, clearly walking away like a guy.

	"Good!", Tarry shouted at her back, "That will save me the
effort of hanging up on you, you pervert!"

	Again, Ranma could only blink in confusion.  Then some one
tugged at her shirt.

	"Excuse me young lady.", said an elderly woman's voice.
Ranma turned around and found herself facing a very old
woman who was hunched over in age, carrying a basket of
white daisies.  To Ranma's surprise, she was wearing a blue
and white kimono , with a wide bow tied in the back.  And
her features were clearly Japanese.  She even realized that
she spoke to her in Japanese.

	"Is it true?  Are you really from Japan?", the woman asked.

	"Yah!  Near, Tokyo in fact.", Ranma said, excited on
meeting a fellow country men.

	"That's nice.  And just for you, here's a flower.", the
old woman said, taking a single daisy and handed it to
Ranma.  "A pretty flower, for a pretty girl."

	"Gee, thanks.", Ranma said with a smile.  When she opened
her eye's again, she realized that the old woman was
staring at her expectantly.

	"Well, what are you waiting for!", the old woman shouted
with impressive volume, "Are you going to put it in your
hair or not!"

	The old woman didn't wait for a response before marching
past Ranma, and addressing Tarry, who clearly looked
unexpressed.

	"And here's a flower for you too, you perverted hussy!",
the woman snapped as she thrust a daisy into her hands.

	"Thank you Miss Anderson.", Tarry said with a slight
smile.  She then tucked the flower into her blond hair.

	"Bless you child.", the old woman said to her with a wide
and approving smile.  She then glanced back at Ranma.

	Instantly, Ranma-chan slipped the daisy into her hair,
then proceeded to whistle in another direction.

	Satisfied, Miss Anderson began to walk off, giving a
flower to every woman and girl she came across.

	"Who's that?", Ranma asked.

	"Her?  She's Miss Anderson.  Her husband occupied Japan
after the war, and they were married.  Actually, she's a
sweet old lady that just doesn't have all her flowers in
her garden, if you know what I mean."

	"You can say that about the whole town.", Ranma said.

	"Well, not all of them are jerks.  Most of them are folk
just trying to make a living.", Tarry said with a sigh,
"Come on."

	"Hay, wait a minute.  Can't I change back into a guy
first?", Ranma said.

	"Actually, this will work better this way.", Tarry said.

	"Let me guess, he's a sucker for blondes and red heads,
right?", Ranma said, folding her arms in front of her.

	"You got it, gorgeous.  Come on."

	With that, Tarry grabbed Ranma-chan by the hand, and
dragged her down the street.

	In the center of town, was a other old red brick building
that looked like a left over front from a bad western
movie.  The window had a cast iron bars across it with the
words "Jail".  (Ranma can understand the word because
Japanese sub text appeared below the window.)

	"Here we are, Sheriff High W. Robbery.", Tarry said.

	"What the W stand for?", Ranma said.

	"High Way Robbery.", Tarry said, placing her palm over her
face in shame again.  "His parents were hippies who were
determined not to see their son become a police officer.
Come on."

	The two girls stepped inside.

	The place was definitely rustic.  The entry foyer was
completely devoid of furniture, save a plain old wood
counter that divided the foyer from the office.  At the far
end of the office, was a small cast iron jail cell.  It's
only occupant was an old man with a tangled gray beard that
came half way down his chest.  He also wore a tattered gray
wide brimmed had that drooped as if it were wet.

	Half way across the office, was an old battered gray
aluminum desk, and behind the desk, with his boots placed
up, and snoring away, was Sheriff High W. Robbery, Ranma
presumed.  He wore a blue uniform with an ordinary six
edged tin star that said, "Sheriff of Dirt Hill."

	Tarry approached the counter, and slapped down several
times on a small bell.  The prisoner then looked up at them.

	"Wait a minute, I'll wake him.", the prisoner said.  He
then fished down in his pocket, and produced a key.  He
stuck it in the lock, and let himself out.  He then held
his finger to his lips.

	"Shhh, you never saw this.  The Sheriff would have me hung
if he knew I could get out any time I wanted."  He said as
he trotted over to the Sheriffs desk.  He then kicked the
chair out from under him, and he spilled over onto the
floor.

	"What the!!", The sheriff said as he bolted up right, and
rubbed the back of his head.  In the mean time, the
prisoner tiptoed back into his cell, locked the door, and
returned to key to his pocket.

	"Dag nabit, Wily!  Wha'cha go and do that fer?", Robbery
said.

	"I didn't do nothing, Sheriff. I've been locked up in this
cell, remember."

	"Yay, right.  And I'm Dolly Pardon with a pair a falses.
I know ya got that key, Wily."

	"No you don't.  And I ain't got not key.  I'm here,
serving out my life sentence."

	"For the thousandth time Wily.  You only got ten days for
step'en on the mayor's flower garden.  You served that out
fifteen years ago.  And it was a bum rap to boot."

	"I was there at my own trial sheriff.  I know you keep
trying to trick me to escape so I won't get out for good
behavior.  Shame on you sheriff.  I always thought better
of you.  Besides, you got citizens at the counter.  Girlies
no less.", Wily said.

	"Girlies?  The Sheriff turned to face them.  He then
licked the back of his hand, and combed down a thin topping
of brown hair.

	"Why, as I live and breath, Ms. Clearwater.  And whose yer
friend here, and what brings you to Dirt Hill.  Did you get
a lead on the Perverted Jock Strap Thief?"

	"Ahhh, no.", Tarry said, "Actually we have another
problem.  We need a back ground check on some one."

	"Back ground check?  Now you know I can't do that.  It's
against the law.  Unless of course he was a gona by a gun
from ya.  Then I'd haft'a check him out."

	"What a coincidence, that's just what he's gona do.",
Tarry said with a wink.

	"Dag nabit.  I know your lie'n to me.  But I could never
turn down a pretty face.  Lucky, I have just the thing.
And since I'm a nice guy, I won't charge you for it.  I
have this brand new fancy dangle gismo that I've been
ache'n to try out ever since I got the darn thing, and this
is the prefect excuse.

	With that, Sheriff Robbery dropped down below the counter,
and produced a dusty wood box.  He opened up a box, and
revealed his treasure to the two girls.

	"Oh, dang it, got dusty all of a sudden.", he said.  He
then pulled in a lung full of air, and exhaled onto the
device, spewing a large cloud of dust throughout his office.

	Girl-type Ranma could only blink in confusion at the thing.

	"Is that what I think it is?", Ranma said.

	"I'm afraid so.", Tarry said, sagging in depression, "Dirt
Hill is many things, but one of them is not 'high tech'."

	"Yes-sir-ee, this here new fanged gadget that help us
communicate.  The TELEGRAPH ! !  What will them darn
engineers think up next." the sheriff said.

	Both Ranma-chan and Tarry face faulted.

	"Now let me see here, this manual says to type in the
letters like so.  Aright, here we go.   I... space... W...
A... N... T... space... T... O...."

	Instantly, the clicks and clacks from the sheriff's
telegraph key raced down the long wire, into the wall, and
outside to the bottom of a high tech satellite dish.  The
signal went hurtling throw space, and bounced of a
satellite, and back down to earth and into the telegraph
key receiver on the other side of the street.

	"BEEP BEB BEB BEEP BEB BEB BEEP BEB BEB BEEP"

	Sitting with his feet up on the desk, was a short skinny
kid with a truly hideous case of acne.  His arms were
folded in front of him as he snoozed away.  Them, slowly,
the clicking telegraph key roused him from his nap.

	"Why, that must be Sheriff High W. Robbery, hold on a
minute sheriff, I'll get the Texas Rangers.", the kid said.
He then picked up a black telephone receiver, and dialed in
the number.

	Instantly, the signal sprinted throw miles of telephone
cable, to DC, LA, Ranma North Dakota, Orlando Florida, and
then to the State Rangers office in Houston.  There, a fat
man wearing a blue, rhinestone studded police officers
uniform (who just happened to look like Elvis) suddenly
found that his bite from the jelly donut had been
interrupted.  He swallowed, and wiped his mouth clean with
his sleeve.

	"Why, that must be a phone call, why yes it is.", he said,
taking the receiver.

	"Uh-hu.  Uh-hu, I see, yes I do.  I wish I could help you,
wish I could.  Tell- ya just what I'm gon'a do, I'm gon'a
put you on hold, and place a call with them their FBI, yes
I will."

	The deputy then picked up another phone, and called out.
The signal went though another dozen cities (and two
provinces) before it came to the FBI headquarters in
Washington DC, where a another black phone rang on an
agents desk.

	"Yes sir.", the agent said in monotone, "Yes sir.  I see
sir.  No sir, I won't be cruel.  We'll look that up right
away sir.  Oh no.  Sorry Houston, we have a problem, our
computer is down, sir.  No sir, we were here at the FBI do
not have a sense of humor that we know of.  Don't worry
sir.  We have another computer in Japan.  I'll call them
right away sir.  Hello, Tokyo?"

	"Moshi moshi.  Tokyo, Japan here.", a Japanese agent said,
"I see sir.  Goldoil.  You need to know if he's real, rich,
and if he's actual a bachelor.  Yes sir, were looking it up
now sir.  Oh boy.  It doesn't look like there is a
millionaire by that name.  Wait a minute, there is one
other place I can try.  She's an agent of ours of the
highest caliber.  Absolutely infallible in these mater."

	The Japanese agent picked up a another telephone, and
dialed a few numbers, and the signal was sent on its way.
Baycheng, London, Paris, Australia, Los Angels, Orlando,
and then....

	 

	"Don't worry, I'll get it.", Kasumi said.  She put down
her pot and towel, and picked up the cordless phone that
just happened to be placed next to her dishes.

	"Hello, Tendo residence.", she said, "Why yes.  She's
right here, and I pass the phone on to her for you."

	Kasumi dried her hands, and then went into the tea room.
Her younger sister was laying on her stomach, the TV remote
in one hand, and a cracker on the other.

	"Nabiki.  It's for you.", she said.

	"Who is it Kasumi?", Nabiki said with her mouth half full
of cracker.

	"It's that really weird person who keeps calling you when
you and I are the only one's home."

	"Its not that guy who thinks this is a 900 number, is it?
His credit card is over drawn."

	"No.  It's that other weird person who keeps calling us
when we're the only one's home.  Here's the phone.", Kasumi
said, handing it to her sister.

	"Hello?  Oh, it's you.  I see.", Nabiki said, inspecting
the back of her fingernails.  "Of course, there is the
mater of my fee.  Double the fare?  My my, you must really
be desperate.  Okay, give me what you got.  Goldoil,
millionaire, bachelor, blue Swede shoes, I don't know, let
me see."

	With that, Nabiki produced her little black book.

	"Goldbar, Goldslick, Goldrun, Goldcoin.  Nope, there is no
Goldoil.  With, or without the shoes.  Your welcome."

	Nabiki then hung up the phone.

	"My, and exactly just who was that Nabiki?", Kasumi asked.

	"I'd love to tell you sis, but then I'd have to kill you."

	"Okay."

	 Tokyo.

	"I just got word from my agent.  She's never heard of the
man."

	  FBI headquarters.

	"I see.  Yes sir.  I see.  No doubt what so ever.  Thank
you Tokyo, the FBI owes you a debt of gradated.  As well as
40,000 yen.  I'll inform our agent."

	 Houston.

	"I see.  Thank you, thank you very much.  Let me see, oh
yay, Dirt Hill, on the other line."

	 Dirt Hill, telegraph exchange office.

	"Are you sure?  Yay, I'll telegraph Sheriff Robbery right
away.  Let me see.  T... H... E... R... E... space... I...

	  Sheriff Robbery's office.

	"...is... no... such... person... STOP.  Cost... of...
call... is... twenty... million... dollars. STOP.", Sheriff
Robbery said, "Dag nabit.  I'll never figure out how come
this dag burn thing cost so much.  Well ladies, look'en
like this guy hornswogeld ya.  Good thing you came to me,
right?"

	"Oh yes, Sheriff.", Tarry said with a smooth and seductive
voice.

	"We are ever so grateful for your help, Sheriff.",
Ranma-chan said in kind, "How ever can we thank you?"

	With that, Ranma winked at the Sheriff.  The gesture had
the same impact as smacking the sheriff in the face with a
gold brick, in knocked him back into his chair, where he
began to twitch blissfully.

	"Thank you, Sheriff Robbery.", Tarry said, she then gently
blew him a kiss, and blasted him to the floor.

	Wily could only look at the Sheriff, and shake his had.

	"Dang fool just can't handle women.  Lord help him when he
takes a wife."

	 <+ + + >

	"So.  Now we know something's up.", Ranma said, stepping
back out into the street and walking back to the beat up
pick up.  "So now what do we do?"

	"Good question.  I suppose we'll have to tell our
parents.", Tarry said.

	"Are you kidding?  Just the mention of this deal gets pop
salivating.  He'll never believe that he's been played for
a sap.  Even though he should be use to it by now."

	"I suspect ma will be the same way.  Maybe Miss Darenger
and Mr. Tendo?  They may be more reusable.", Tarry said,
"Get in."

	Ranma-chan complied by climbing back into the truck, and
tucking in her legs.  Tarry picked up the passenger door
from the street, and hung it back on the frame.

	"But what I don't get, is what's Goldoil's game?  Why
spend all this money to send you to Japan, and bring us
here?", Ranma-chan said, "Unless he's not after money."

	"I think your right.  It has to be something more
sinister.  Maybe he thinks the ranch is on an oil field or
something.", Tarry said as she pulled herself behind the
wheel, and slammed the door closed.  "Perhaps we should
play along until we know what he's up to."

	She then turned the key to start the motor, and it
stubbornly turned over and over, but refused to start.  She
tried again.

	"Good idea.  That way we don't have to tell pop and Miss
Clearwater right away."

	With a grind, the engine still refused to turn over.
Leaving Tarry to blink in confusion.

	"What the mater, this old wreck decide to die on you?",
Ranma said.

	"No.  That's impossible.  It should start."

	"Oh come on.", Ranma-chan said, "I'm surprised this engine
didn't fall out of this old rust pile on that old dirt road
into town that we took."

	"No.  You don't understand.  Bob maintains this.  He is a
superior mechanic.  It may be an old truck, but thanks to
Bob, it's in prime running condition.", Tarry said, still
confused, "In fact, he worked on it just before I took it
out of the machine shed."

	"You don't think something else is wrong, do you?", Ranma
said.

	They then looked at each other, then their faces grew long
with fear.

	"Redd!", Tarry said.

	"Akane!". Ranma-chan said.

	Simultaneously, they burst from the truck, and on to the
street.  Tarry ran to the other side, where there was an
old booth type pay phone, with Ranma-chan close on her
heals.

	Meanwhile, from the darkened shadows of one of the many
abandoned buildings, a pair of red slit like eye's spied
them.

	Tarry slipped into the booth, and picked up the hook.

	"Margaret? Yes, it me, Tarry Clearwater.  Look, this is an
emergency, I need to connect with the ranch.  Please, it's
a matter of life or death.", Tarry said, "What do you mean,
I have to deposit 25¢!?", she shouted, patting down her
pockets.

	"Oh no, I don't have a quarter.  Ranma, I don't suppose
you..."

	Ranma frantically searched her pockets, and produced a
single coin.

	"Would a hundred yen coin do?", she asked, holding it up
to her comrade for inspection.

	"It's too big.", Tarry said.  She snatched it from
Ranma-chan any way, and jammed it into the slot.  She then
pulled her fist back, and drove it into the phone, cracking
the outer casing in the process.

	"Hay!", Ranma-chan snapped, leaning foreword in protest.

	"There you are Margaret, 25¢.  Are you happy?  Now connect
me.

	"Twenty five cents my foot.", Ranma-chan said, folding her
arms before her, and turning back towards the street, "A
mighty expensive phone call if you ask me."

"What do you mean, Old man Segwick is on the party line?",
Tarry shouted, "Can't you brake in or something?  Well
aren't you going to at lest give me back my quarter?!" 

	Tarry, in a final fit of rage, slammed the receiver down
onto the hook.

	"The line is busy.", she said.

	"I have a really bad feeling about this!", Ranma-chan
said., "It's like the world is conspiring against us or
something."

	"More coincidences?", Tarry said, "We better get moving,
it's a long jog back to the ranch."

	Tarry then stepped from the booth, and started at a light
jog down the street towards the road out of town.
Ranma-chan fell into step next to her, both of them pacing
themselves for a long and desperate run.

	Just then, a pair of red slits opened up in the darkness.
Red slits that pried at them throw the gray smoke that
wafted about him where he sat.  Again, a small and dark
chortle bubbled up from his thought.

	"At last.  The forth seal.  Three of the four deeds of the
impossible have come to pass.  The ends of the earth have
met.  Bonds have been foraged though common suffering that
is not the same.  Two great and terrible enemies Tarry
Clearwater, of the Unites States, and Ranma Saotome, from
the land of the rising sun of Japan, now undo four terrible
years of bloody warfare and slaughter.  Only one last tasks
remains.  The final articles must be collected."

	The dark figure stood up and towered over the smoldering
embers of his small fire.  The smoke rose with him, and
swelled about this evil festal with an anger of it's own.
He closed his eye's, and reopened them, gleaming as red as
the war paint of his ancestors.  He stepped forward, into
the smoke.  His sandals left the leather flooring of his
hut, and stepped onto the hot and burning dust of the Texas
plane.  Around him, a scorched and unforgiving wasteland,
and a lonely stretch of treacherous road that had calmed
many victims.

	Again, his thought chortled darkly, and he came to stand
over one of the many monuments of woe that lay ruined in
the desert sun.

	An old and rusty gray hulk of a convertible, beaten and
torn by the unrelenting winds.  Any hint of paint was
blasted away.  A long set of decrepit long horn antlers
barley clung onto a dented and warped hood.  Behind the
tattered remnants of the steering wheel, and sat upon
shredded and cracked upholstery, was an old and haunting
vestige of a skeleton.  A human, skeleton, who could only
scream silently against a sentence, now decades old.

	The dark figure exhaled upon the relic, and thick gray
smoke bellowed from his lungs, and began to slowly cascade
over the hulk.  And the years began to melt away.  Paint
returned to the surface, and was being polished by the
smoke.

	Rotted flesh began to appear upon the skeleton, and
threads long since dispersed by the winds, were returned by
the very same force, and spun about the decrepit corps.

	The shredded tires began to heal, and the wind charged
within to the brims, and the hulk was once again lifted
from the bed of the desert.  Pieces of shattered glass fell
upwards, and sealed themselves back into place within the
windshield, and the cracks retreated away from view.

	The skeleton was now full of rotten flesh, and skin began
to crawl upon the corpse.  Withered and dusty eyelids were
lifted, revealing the shriveled and hollow eyes within that
were beginning to fill, and clear, and then to sparkle in
the relentless sunlight.

	Blackened skin began to return to a normal color, a fancy
suit began to take form.  The wind blew in a tattered hat
and placed it upon the corpse's head, and a healing hand
was razed, and straightened it upon a growing wig of hair.

	There was a rusted grind from underneath the hood, as the
weathered and unoiled parts of the engine turned and moved
once more, despite the protest and resistance of age's
grasp.

	The corps drew in a tortured gasp of air, and inflated
itself.  Hands forcefully griped the wheel, now covered
with healing leather, bracing itself agents the pain and
shock of being re-animated after so many years of sleep.
His expression began to form, his features began to
resemble a human.

	The engine's protest became to lessened.  Black choking
smoke bellowed from the tail pipe, and quickly began to run
clear, and then disappeared all together.

	Final, the dark vestige that appeared over this miracle,
closed his mouth, and the gray smoke retreated.  Standing
before him, was a pristine and polished pink Cadillac, with
a horn hood ornament that spanned past the front fenders.
Behind the wheel, was a wealthy millionaire, none the worse
from his ages long sleep within the tormenting embrace of
the desert wind and sun.

	"Goldoil.", the figure called out, "I have need of you
once more.  Go to the Darenger ranch, and bring the one's
named Akane Tendo and Redd Darenger to me."

	"What ever you say boss.  But, what if'en the other try to
stop me?", The corpse said.

	"Then unleash the thousands of angry sprites that give you
life now.  Let the soles that their forefathers have slain,
return the favor."

-- To be continued in Act 5: The Taking of Akane --


_____Closing Credits____________________________
-->Insert shattering glass here<----------------
------------------------------------------------

Credits___
Story by : Douglas E. Kulp
Editing by : Lila R. Kulp (soon to be Lila R. Shaumeyer.
Congratulations sis.)
Based on stuff by : Rumiko Takahashi
Transportation and lodging by : Code Name D.
	Note to Akane:  It is the custom in the US to NOT allow
guests to cook.  USDA regulation or something.


Well, if your not addicted to my fanfic by now, then you
are clearly immune to a good plot.  In that case, I
recommend you seek help from Dr. Tofo at once.  (But be
sure that Kasumi isn't hiding some where first.  Ouch!)  As
for the rest of you, you may have noticed that my spelling
has improved.  You have my sister to blame for that.
Thanks sis.

[     Code Name D     ]
[     ___/\/\___      ]
[      _(_@ @)_       ]
[      \__\/__/       ]
[ Beware  of the spy  ]
code_name_d@my-deja.com

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