“What an exciting way to start EMW’s inaugural broadcast!!!”  Hiroshi yelled above the cheering crowd.

 

“You know, do you have a microphone headset,” Daisuke said rubbing his ear.  “And it’s on.  Oww.”

 

“Oh, it’s ‘On’ alright!”  Hiroshi hyped.  “Tonight is a night of heart-pounding, pulse-racing, no-holds-barred, go-for-the-throat violence, martial arts mayhem, sports-entertainment edge-of-your-seat action!!!”

 

“And thanks to the unrelenting usage of catch phrases, I owe April five dollars,” Daisuke complained.

 

“Yeah!  Money-money-money-money!  Mon-nay!”  The uber-hyper Hiroshi sang as he danced on top of the announce table for the cheering crowd.

 

“Anyway,” Daisuke rolled his eyes.  “Hiroshi and I are the last single pair of commentators tonight.  As chaotic as that will be, all six of us will be actively announcing immediately following this next match.”

 

Pseudo-Chinese techno pop music began to play and colorful spotlights swirled around the entrance stage.

 

“Which is apparently about to start.”

 

o/` Nothing But Pennies In My Pocket.

Nothing But Faith to Keep Me Warm.

But, Baby, Then I’d Be Broke Without it.

Tell Me, How Much for Your Love? o/`

 

“Making their way to the ring, from Nermia, Japan,” The Announcer said as two teenagers in colorful Chinese silk clothes walked from the entranceway.  “Mousse and Shampoo!”

 

The serious-looking pair of dangerous Chinese amazons marched down the ramp to the song “In My Pocket” by Mandy Moore.

 

Mousse, a handsome youth clad in a long-sleeved Chinese silk robe and black silk pants, stood proud and stoic as he marched down the ramp next to his beloved Shampoo.

  

Mousse then took a right turn, walked right off the side of the ramp, and fell flat on his face.

 

“Stupid Mousse,” Shampoo, a beautiful young warrior in white silk clothes decorated with pastel designs, said as she leaned over her recovering partner.  “Put glasses on.”

 

“Huh?  Oh, right!”  Mousse muttered as he pulled a pair of extremely thick “Coke bottle” frames from his robe and put them on.

 

“Now, Mousse get in ring before Shampoo beat Mousse up herself,” The Amazon with flowing elegant purple hair said in a belying dainty voice as she continued down the ramp.  Mousse quickly climbed back on the ramp and followed his beloved Shampoo to the ring like a lost puppy. 

 

It’s just a shame Shampoo doesn’t return Mousse’s affection. 

 

“As a matter of fact,” Hiroshi piped up.  “According to Chinese Amazonian law, she’s engaged to Ranma, who will be in action a later tonight!  Man, that guy has more fiancés than he knows what to do with!”

 

Who asked you anyway?   

 

“No one,” Hiroshi said sheepishly.  “But I thought it was important for the audience to know.”

 

“Hiroshi!?”  Daisuke yelled.  “Are you talking to the narrator?”

 

“Uhh...yes.”

 

“Well stop it.  We have a match to announce.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

A gothic organ played a few cords before the peel of an electric guitar took over and loud, fast rock music filled the speakers. 

 

“And their opponents,” It was announced.  “From Sunnydale, California, Buffy Summers and Spike!”

 

A couple appearing to be only slightly older than Mousse and Shampoo arrived from the entrance. 

 

One, a striking young woman with long dusty blond hair, had just as serious a face on as her opponents (Although it dropped for a moment when she smiled and gave a wave into the camera as she walked by).  

 

_-_-_-_-_

 

In Sunnydale...

 

“Hey!”  Buffy’s young sister, Dawn, cheered as she sat in front of the TV with the rest of Buffy’s friends.  “She waved to us!”

 

“Cool!”  Buffy’s friend Xander exclaimed from the couch.

 

“I hope Buffy’s going to be okay,” Buffy’s best friend Willow expressed her concern from beside Xander.  “Amazons are dangerous.”

 

“Those two?”  Xander asked.  “They look about as tough as porcelain dolls.”

 

“Yes, well,” Buffy’s Watcher, Rupert Giles, scoffed in a British accent from behind Xander.  “As delicate as they look, Chinese Amazons, or Amazons of any kind, are extremely dangerous fighters and must be treated with extreme caution.  I just wish Buffy had chosen a better partner.”

 

“Why?”  Xander asked.

 

“Because they’re human.  Spike won’t be able to hurt them.”

 

_-_-_-_-_

 

Yes, walking towards the ring next to Buffy was the notorious vampire, William the Bloody, or as he is now known, Spike.  Wearing a long black leather overcoat with short, slicked-back bleached blond hair he definitely looked badass.

 

“Buffy,” The fearsome vampire almost whined in a cockney British accent.  “How the bloody hell is this supposed to work?  I can’t hurt humans, you know.”

 

“I know,” Buffy simply stated.

 

“I got that whole mind-numbing-pain-brain-chip thing going on,” 

 

“I know,” Buffy said again, never taking her eyes off their opponents in the ring.

 

“I’m going to get beaten eight ways from bloody Sunday!!!”

 

Buffy turned to Spike with a sly smile, “I know.”

 

“This is for trying to kill you and your friends all those times isn’t it?” 

 

“Yep.”

 

From the ring, the two Chinese amazons watched their opponents as they approached ringside.

 

“Beware!”  An aged and wizened warning sounded from behind the two young warriors.  They both turned to find Shampoo’s great-grandmother, Cologne in the ring.

 

“AHH!  MONKEY MUMMY!”  Mousse reacted to the diminutive shriveled crone perched upon her knarled staff.

 

“Quiet,” Cologne snapped as she beaned Mousse over the head. 

 

“What you say Great-Grandmother?”  Shampoo asked the aged Amazon with long white hair.

 

“Your opponents are ones to be both feared and respected,” The aged warrior warned.  “Despite her delicate appearance, that young girl is the Slayer, the one blessed with superior strength and abilities chosen to defend our world against the forces of evil.”

 

“And the other?”  Mousse adjusted his glasses to better look at the pale blond man in the long leather jacket.

 

“He is a vampire,” Cologne answered coldly.  “A vampire that has dishonored our tribe in the past.”

 

“How dishonored?”  Shampoo asked.

 

“Our tribe was once blessed with a Slayer many years ago,” Cologne seethed as she stared a hole into the vampire climbing onto the ring apron.  “But like most Slayers, her life was tragically cut short by the demon you now face.”

 

“I really don’t like the way they’re looking at me,” Spike muttered as he and Buffy stood outside the ring.

 

“Fine,” Buffy stated with a confident smirk.  “If you’re going to chicken out, I’ll fight first.”

 

“I can’t fight at all!”  Spike exclaimed as Buffy climbed into the ring.  “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

 

As Spike’s partner climbed into the ring, Shampoo threw her’s out.

 

“Oof!”  Mousse landed with a thud on the outside of the ring.  “I’ll just wait out here then--Gahh!”

 

Cologne’s staff impacted on Mousse’s back with the aged Amazon perched on top.

 

“Get up boy,” Cologne commanded the bi-optic Amazon.

 

“Old bag,” Mousse muttered, but complied and crawled up the steel steps to his team’s corner.

 

In the ring, the two female warriors prepared for combat.

 

[SHAMPOO & MOUSSE]

[VS.]

[BUFFY SUMMERS & SPIKE]

[*DING!*]

 

“Shampoo not want to fight Slayer,” The purple haired girl stated.  “Slayer good.  Give Shampoo vampire so Shampoo can take head.”

 

In his corner, Spike audibly gulped.

 

“Sorry,” The Slayer stated back getting into a ready stance.  “But we’re a team.  You want him, you’re going to have to fight me first.”

 

“That’s right!”  Spike cheered.  “You tell that purple haired bint!”

 

“Shut up Spike,” Buffy snapped.

 

“Right.  I’ll just wait here then.”

 

“Fine,” The young Amazon warrior said.  “But no say Shampoo not warn you.”

 

“Bring it on.”

 

Without any further warning, Shampoo launched a furious attack of punches and kicks.  Still, Buffy was able to either dodge or block all of them.

 

When Shampoo paused her attack, however, Buffy took a moment to rub her forearms, which were sore from the punishment they absorbed.

 

“Ouch,” Buffy winced.  “That smarts.”

 

“Shampoo strong Amazon warrior,” The young girl snorted smugly.  “You no stand chance.”

 

“Yeah, you’re tough,” Buffy agreed with her haughty opponent.  “But I’ve faced tougher.”

 

With that the Slayer rushed forward with her own offensive strikes.  Even though Shampoo tried valiantly to block and dodge Buffy’s own powerful strikes, she just wasn’t able to avoid them all.  A strong kick to her side left the Amazon kneeling on the mat. 

 

“SHAMPOO!!!”  A distraught Mousse shouted from his corner.

 

“Had enough?”  Buffy shot at the recovering Shampoo.

 

“You may be more strong than Shampoo,” The purple haired beauty gasped as she rose from the mat.  “But you still no win!!!”

 

Shampoo lunged at Buffy with furious speed and a ferocious flurry of kicks and punches. 

 

Buffy was still able to block and dodge most of her shots and soon put Shampoo on the defensive with attacks of her own.  With her skill and slightly superior strength the Slayer was backing Shampoo into a corner. 

 

Unfortunately, it was the corner Mousse was standing in.

 

“Buffy!  Watch out!”  Spike’s warning came too late.  As soon as the dueling divas were in range, Mousse lashed out with a kick that caught Buffy directly in the side of her head. 

 

The Slayer went down to the mat and was knocked for a loop, but quickly tried to recover fearing Shampoo would take advantage of her mistake.  Instead, she looked up to see Shampoo glaring at her own partner.

 

“Yes!”  Mousse shouted excitedly and held out his hand to his beloved Shampoo.  “See Shampoo?  We make a great team!”

 

Disgusted, Shampoo knocked away Mousse’s affectionate gesture with an audible slap.

 

“Tag!”  The referee shouted.  “Mousse in!  Shampoo, you’re out!”

 

“Ai-yaa!!”  Shampoo shouted in confusion.  “What you saying?”

 

“And Shampoo makes the first tag of the match!”  Hiroshi shouted from ringside.  “That brings Mousse into the game!”

 

“Even though it looks like Shampoo apparently forgot this was a tag match,” Daisuke smiled.  “After, Mousse’s sneak attack, Buffy can capitalize and use this confusion to recover or make a tag of her own.”

 

Buffy chose the former, and stood ready as Shampoo reluctantly left the ring and was replaced by the male Chinese Amazon Mousse.

 

“You may be the Slayer,” Mousse seethed.  “But I cannot even allow the Chosen One to hurt my precious Shampoo and get away with it!”

 

“Well, okay,” Buffy quipped.  “But you do know this is a fight, right?”

 

Instead of answering, Mousse simply attacked.  Although he wasn’t as strong as his tag team partner, Mousse is at least as skilled as Shampoo, if not more so.

 

Every time Buffy tried a kick, Mousse countered with one of his own, but only his longer legs fully connected.  The same thing happened when Buffy tried a punch.  The factor Mousse didn’t consider, however, was what little of Buffy’s strikes that did get through were made equal to his by her superior strength. 

 

“Time to change strategies,” Mousse muttered as they both staggered backwards from another simultaneous kick. 

 

The next of Mousse’s kicks connected with Buffy’s right arm and sent a sharp pain through it.

 

“BUFFY!!!”  Spike shouted as he watched in horror from his corner.

 

“AHH!”  Buffy shouted in pain and grabbed her arm, only to fell a sticky warm substance on her sleeve.  Buffy looked down to see her arm soaked in blood. When she looked at Mousse’s foot she found a sharp blade protruding from the toe of his martial arts slipper.

 

“Now you see...” Buffy heard as she looked up to see Mousse adjust his glasses using his middle finger.  “...Why I am called a Master of Hidden Weapons.”

 

Buffy’s cold stare met Mousse’s confident smirk, and she knew she was in trouble. 

 

“OH MY GOD!!!”  Hiroshi shouted from ringside.  “Mousse has drawn first blood and Buffy is in a bad, bad way!  Uh...can he even do that?”

 

“Technically,” Daisuke calmly stated.  “EMW never formally made a ‘No Weapons’ stipulations for their matches.”

 

“Uh oh,” Hiroshi gulped.

 

“Yeah,” Daisuke agreed.

 

Back in the ring, Buffy was on serious defense.  With each of Mousse’s quick strikes, she could see a glint of metal in the long sleeves of his robe. 

 

Favoring her bleeding right arm, Buffy had no choice but to dodge and back away, or risk being sliced to ribbons. 

 

Luckily, this time she was making her way towards her own corner.

 

Spike’s mind raced as the fight was being brought his way.

 

“What the bloody hell does she want me to do?”  He asked himself.  “I can’t even hit him!”

 

As soon as Buffy was within arm’s length, Spike did the only thing he could think of, he reached out and tagged her on the shoulder.

 

“And a blind tag by Spike may have very well saved Buffy from a very edgy ending!”  Hiroshi violated the laws of good taste with a horrific pun.

 

“But still,” Daisuke reminded his partner.  “Due to a microchip implanted by a top-secret Psuedo-military organization in Spike’s brain, he can’t hurt humans in anyway without suffering intense neurological pain.  What’s he going to do?”

 

“What the hell am I gonna do?”  Spike panicked.  “Keep dodging and hope that he wears himself out?”

 

“Pathetic,” Mousse scoffed.   “A demon opponent that can’t even defend himself.  Out of mercy, I’ll end this quickly.  BLOW OF THE SWAN-FIST!!!” 

 

Mousse’s arms blurred with speed as they delivered a massive clubbing blow to Spike’s face.

 

“Ugh!”  The vampire grunted in pain as fell to the mat.  Spike quickly recovered and got to his feet in time to see Mousse come at him again.

 

“BLOW OF THE SWAN-FIST!!!”  Mousse’s arms again moved faster than most eyes could see.  Most eyes.

 

“Ha!”  Spike shouted triumphantly as he blocked Mousse’s attack, grabbing the hidden object the Chinese boy used in his attack.  “Well, ‘Swan-Fist’, looks like you’re just an ugly duckli--WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?!?” 

 

Spike now noticed the object he and Mousse held as a duck shaped training potty. 

 

“And Spike discovers the secret of the ‘Blow of the Swan-Fist’,” Daisuke smirked.  “Mousse uses his speed to disguise the fact that he bludgeons his opponent with a child’s training potty.”

 

“How embarrassing!”  Hiroshi gasped.

 

Leaning over the ring post, Buffy could be heard roaring with laughter, along with most of the fans in attendance. 

 

“Oh that’s it!”  Spike growled as his face twisted and contorted into its vampire form.  His forehead wrinkled, his eyes turned yellow, and his teeth became sharp fangs.

 

With a feral growl, Spike used his free hand and punched Mousse in the face, sending him sprawling to the mat.  Spike then grabbed his head and screamed in pain, even before he noticed there was no pain.

 

“What?  Why the bloody hell am I not in mind numbing pain?”  Realization dawned on Spike almost as quickly as the sinister smile appeared on his face.  “The chip’s deactivated!”

 

“Well,” Daisuke muttered.  “It appears as if Spike’s safety chip is deactivated inside the confines of the ring.”

 

_-_-_-_-_

 

Watching from somewhere in the arena, a caped figure continues to smile (Yeah, he does that a lot).

 

_-_-_-_-_

 

“This can’t be good,” Buffy realized with dread.  If Spike gets out of hand now, it’ll be up to her to step in and bring him down.

 

“So, there’s some bite in you after all, Demon,” Mouse said as he rose up adjusting his glasses.  “This should make it a lot more interesting.”

 

“Count on it,” Spike sneered wickedly.

 

“Stupid Mousse!”  Shampoo shouted from the ring apron.   “Tag out!  Shampoo want fight vampire!”

 

“Fear not, my dearest Shampoo,” Mousse confused Shampoo’s demand with concern.  “I’ll be fine!” 

 

“No you--WHOA!!”  Spike ducked just in time to miss having his head cleaved by a sharp blade on the end of a chain.  The other end of the chain was found protruding from the long sleeve of Mousse’s robe.

 

“Don’t take me lightly,” The Master of Hidden Weapons snarled.  “You will regret challenging me, vampire.”

 

Mousse launched another volley of pointy implements on chains towards the vampire formerly known as William the Bloody.

 

“That’s a neat trick,” Spike said as he snagged an iron claw attached to another chain as it sped towards his heart (It surprised him a little to then see a yo-yo then go whizzing past).  “But so’s this!!!”

 

Spike yanked hard on the chain, pulling Mousse off his feet and towards the angry vampire.  A well-aimed kick sent Mousse flying across the ring, subsequently knocking off his glasses. 

 

“You’ll pay for that, foul creature!”  Mousse yelled and pointed an accusing finger at a helpless ring post.

 

“Mousse stupid,” Shampoo muttered from her adjacent ring post.  “He no see without glasses.”

 

“Don’t have anything to say?”  Mousse snickered.  “You must be frozen with fear!”

 

“Yeah,” Spike rolled his eyes.  “That MUST be it.”

 

Mousse released another volley of chain weapons that where not only aimed away from Spike, but also missed the ring post completely.

 

Audience members screamed as sharp objects on chains impacted with the audience barricade.  

 

“Someone had better stop Mousse before someone gets hurt!”  Hiroshi shouted.

 

“Yeah,” Daisuke paled even further as a knife impaled the notes on the commentating table right in front of him.  “Like us.”

 

To everyone’s surprise Spike threw himself in front of the next round of sharp weapons accidentally thrown at the terrified crowd.  He was able to deflect most of them so they harmlessly landed on the mat, but he still took one sharp claw directly in the arm.

 

“AARGH!!”  Spike roared in pain.

 

“What?”  A bewildered Cologne wondered from beside her great-granddaughter.  “Why would a soulless vampire do such a thing?”

 

“Right!”  Spike looked at his arm and shouted with rage.  “I’ll do you for that!” 

 

Spike charged forward and clobbered the visually impaired young Amazon with a vicious right hook.  Spike continued his relentless attack until Mousse was against the ropes.  Spike prepared to deliver the final blow when he felt something grab his arm.

 

“Spike,” The vampire turned to see Buffy holding back his injured right arm with her own.  “Enough.”

 

“Buffy?”  Spike’s face returned to its human guise, and he stared in bewilderment at his tag-team partner.

 

Buffy answered with a swift kick to the stomach that sent Spike reeling to a corner of the mat.

 

“Huh?”  Mousse asked as Shampoo slapped his glasses back on his face.  “Shampoo?  Wha--” Then he say Spike laying in the corner and Buffy in the ring.  His teeth clenched in anger and he started towards his opponents.  “You!  I’ll--”

 

“Mousse done enough!”  Shampoo said right before she delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of his head, knocking him to the ground.  Then, she too turned towards the prone Spike.  “Now for evil vampire...”

 

“Shampoo!  Leave him be!”  Cologne commanded as she bounded into the ring.  “The Slayer is our first priority now.  You should get some medical attention for the cut that fool boy gave you.”

 

“Yes,” Shampoo smiled as she immediately obeyed her great-grandmother and helped The Slayer out of the ring.  “We get you to doctor now.”

 

“Thanks,” Buffy said.  “But I’ve had worse.  I heal pretty fast anyway.”

 

“You should still see to that wound none the less,” Cologne suggested as they made their way up the ramp.  “That is a most...interesting partner you have chosen Slayer.”

 

“Yeah.  Spike’s not all bad,” Buffy reluctantly agreed.  “Anymore...I think.  What about Mousse?”

 

“Mousse not bad,” Shampoo admitted as Cologne stayed quiet.  “He just get carried away at times.  Shampoo rather team with Ranma, but he have own tag-team match later.”

 

As the three females disappeared into the back, the two male figures in the ring began to stir.

 

“This is all your fault,” Mousse grumbled as he and Spike stumbled out of the ring. 

 

Spike just slapped him upside the head.

 

“Oww!”

 

“ARGH!!!”  Spike screamed and grabbed his head as the anti-violence chip reactivated outside the ring.

 

“Well,” Daisuke sighed in relief as Mousse and Spike left the ring and hobbled up the ramp.  “As close as that was, it appears our audience is willing to stick around for more...and hopefully not sue us.”

 

“Yeah!  They want more action and entertainment!”  Hiroshi shouted in excitement.  “o/` Everybody Have Fun Tonight!  Everybody Wang Chung Tonight! o/`”

 

“Oh well,” Daisuke sighed in frustration.  “We now take you live backstage where April is standing by with another interview.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Thanks, Daisuke,” April smiled into the camera.  Standing next to her was a man in a manly bright pink karate gi, with his light brown hair in a manly ponytail and a trying-to-be-dashing manly smile on his face.  “I’m here with self-styled Saikyo Master, Dan Hibiki.  Dan, tonight you face Olympic gold medallist Kurt Angle in a unique match, where the loser with be crowned the ‘Biggest Dork in the Universe’.  Your thoughts?”

 

“Yes!  No doubt you are wondering what manly thoughts are running through the mighty brain of Dan,” The pink clad Master of Saikyo proudly stated.  “Although the opportunity to fight for any title is a tremendous honor I, Dan Hibiki, shall defeat my worthy Olympic opponent and then I shall become the Biggest Dork in the Universe!!!”

 

April looked at Dan as if to say, “He doesn’t have a clue.”

 

“...No wait,” A confused Dan scratched his head.  “That’s not right.  How’s that supposed to work again?”

 

“Anyway,” April sweatdropped.  “The match between Dan Hibiki and Kurt Angle for the Dork Title will take place right after--”

 

“Uh, Miss O’Neal?” Dan interrupted.

 

“Call me April,” The yellow jump-suited journalist smiled.

 

“April,” Dan said with a sly smile as he pointed down the shirt of his pink gi.  “Would you like to try some of Dan’s Twinkie?”

 

“WHAT?!?”  A very offended April screamed.  “NO WAY YOU PERVERTED PSYCHO!!!”

 

“Are you sure?”  Dan said as he reached into his shirt and produced a plastic wrapped Hostess treat.  “It’s still fresh!”

 

“Uhh, no thanks Dan,” April forced a polite smile as she pushed the cream-filled sponge cake offering away from her face.  “You go right ahead.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Dan shrugged before he began his mighty struggle to open the Twinkies package.

 

“We now take you back to ringside,” April said to the camera.  “Where I will be rejoining the commentating team for the Dork Title Fight right after this next match.”

 

“Wait a minute!”  Dan paused in his strenuous exercise.  “Why did you call me a perverted psycho?”

 

“Oh, no reason,” April blanched.  “I just don’t like Twinkies.”

 

“Hmm,” Dan shrugged and returned to his mighty task.  Manly tears began to flow in his fantastic struggle.  “Stupid plastic!”

 

* * * * *

 

To Be Continued…