The Tragic Tale of Iwanako

[Sharp-O]

Interesting, funny and utterly bonkers. My brain is full of fuck and I'm loving it.

[Oddball]

CHAPTER 2

I apologize to all my faithful readers, but chapter 2 has been taken down. I was really unhappy with the way that it turned out and I may end up re-writing it in the future. I'm sorry for anyone that was looking forward to seeing the continuation of the story.

I did have a character profile though. I'll leave that up.


Iwanako Japaneseako (note to self, look that up. It might not actually be a real name.)
Blood Type: O
Birthday: August 1st
Eyes: Dark purple
Hair: long and black
Height: Average
Weight: Never ask a girl this
Favorite Food: Fried Chicken
Disability: Iwanako is not disabled, but she was sent to Yamaku as a result of a truth or dare game her parents where playing that got way out of control.
Profile: Completely unnecessary

[Oddball]

Chapter 3

“Thank god that's over. I thought we'd never get out of there,” Ryouko said.

“I'm surprised we did,” I said back. “That was just … horrible,” I add with a shudder.

“Who knew so many people here at Yamaku had connections to the Yakuza?” Molly said. “And what was up with that crazy Yakazu doctor?”

“I don't know if that was crazier than the weird cyberpunk future stuff or not,” Natsume said scratching the back of her head.

“I don't know. I thought it was fun,” Sayuri said. “All those kooky characters and weird adventures...”

“I kinda liked the part where we all got super powers,” Katawanako added.

“That part was stupid,” I sigh. “Anyway, it's all over with, so let's just forget it ever happened and get back to what we were doing.”

“...” Katawanako didn't say, mostly because she now lacked the ability to speak.

After arriving back in the common room or the day room or which ever name you prefer, we all took our seats again and passed around a hat to put our ideas in. After it went all the way around the room, it came back to me. I don't know who's hat it was.

I took the hat and sat it down in front of me. I took a moment to run my hands though my long black hair and blinked my dark purple eyes (that appear blue in certain lights.) I stood up and stretched all of my 156cm.


I adjust my dark black skirt, similar to the ones wore by Yamaku students except a different color and scratched my left foot that had a sock on that was just a touch shorter than the one on my right foot, but that's okay because my right foot still had some toenail polish on it that I hadn't quite gotten off yet. My stomach grumbles slights, making me wish I had some fried chicken, my favorite food, but something my family only eats once a year on Christmas, even though sometimes I sneak some during festivals, not too often though, because I weigh 51kg and really don't want to put on any additional weight.

My likes include mocha frappichinos, the sound of waves and the rain, first edition old books, and small fuzzy animals.

My dislikes include political shows, spiders, heights and fish. Fish are so gross. What even are gills anyway?

“Everyone already knows who you are. If you don't get back to the story right now, I'm leaving,” Saki said.

“Sorry. I just got carried away,” I say blushing with shame. “I never know where to stop with the descriptions.”

“Just … just don't say any of this stuff unless it's actually important to what's happening,” Saki says.

“Come on, let's hear what kinds of stories we had,” said that one girl in the purple wheelchair who I'm still not sure is supposed to be in this story.

“Alright, we're a pretty diverse group, let's see what we came up with,” I say reaching in and pulling out the first story possibility.

“Somebody commits suicide because they've broken up with someone else and everybody is is really sad about it,” I read. “That's kind vague,” I add my own comment.

“LAME!” the green haired track girl calls out.

“It's cliché, but it could work,” Ritsu says.

“Next. We're all trains in an alternate reality. I think we can skip this one.” I say.

“Do you want us to read all of them out loud so we can vote on them, or just read the ideas that aren't horrible?” Ryouko asks the rest of the group.

While a few people are curious about all of them, most of our group just wants the good stuff.

I pull out the next one.

A crossover with the X-men? What is this? 1995?

Following that we have a story where we're all cyborgs sin a post apocalyptic wasteland and just about everybody gets killed. That doesn't really have much to do with the established themes, so we're skipping that one too.

This is a magic school.
This is a school were we become weird tentacle monsters.
This is a virtual reality school.
An evil computer kidnaps us all and tortures and kills us painfully.

These ideas … these are weird ideas. None of them have so far been the 'steal attention away from the main cast' blockbusters I was hoping for.

Ryouko pulls the next paper out of the hat, reads it and wads it up and throws it away. “Really Natsume?”

Natsume looks shocked. “What? What did I do?”

“Stop being such a lesbian slut,” Ryouko scolds her.

“Hey! I am not a slut. Sluts are particular about who they sleep with. They sleep with everybody all the time. I haven’t slept with anyone in this room... this week.” that just earns her stares from the rest of the room.

“What did she write?” I ask. Saki retrieves the wadded up paper and reads it. “We're all taking a shower together and somebody steals our clothes? Why would we all be taking a shower together?”

“I didn't write that. I had the train idea. What do you want? I'm a reporter. I don't do fiction!” she says defensively.

“Then why were you … never mind,” I say. “Let's just move on.”

“Okay. But, you know, if whoever wrote that is curious, my room number is 1-8. Just putting that out there,” she says trying to fake innocence. “I mean, in case somebody wanted to hear the train idea.”

There were a few more ideas, but honestly, they all pretty much stank. “Really? Can we not come up with a single good idea?” I say.

“I didn't write this one down, but we could have a zany comedy where we're all in a band,” Ritsu offers up.

“I can play the violin. Can anybody else play anything?” Molly says.

“I wish I still could, I kinda can't anymore,” Ritsu says apologetically. “I could be the manager of something though. Can anybody else play anything.”

Nobody says anything.

“Well, I can play accordion,” I say meekly already knowing what kinds of strange looks I'm going to get. It happens every time I tell people I can play the accordion. It's not my fault I won free lessons in a contest.

“So we have a band consisting of an accordion and a violin. What are the rest of us supposed to do, be back up dancers?” Sayuri scoffed.

“Can I be lead singer?” the actor girl we called Thisby earlier speaks.

“I think the band idea is a bust,” Hikage states.

“Right, no band,” I articulate.

“Maybe we're looking at all this the wrong way,” Molly speaks.

“Right. I'm sure there's some way the band idea isn't stupid,” Ryouko verbalizes.

“Put down the thesaurus,” Natsume communicates. … sorry. Says. “That's better.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean about everything in general. You're really not messing up half as badly as you were earlier,” she clarifies.

“I think I'm getting back into the hang of things. It's really the tenses I'm worried about. I keep messing those up,” I say.

“Really? I hadn't noticed,” Time Warp Tan will say at some point in the future.

“No band no story, what's Plan C?” Natsume asks.

“Well, if we can't outdo them in a real story, what can we do?” Molly asks.

“Beat them up!” Sayuri says.

“I'm cool with that,” Marika adds. “Sadly, my fighting ability is a bit lacking.”

“You could run them over!” Thisby suggests.

“No. We're not just going to beat them up!” I shout out.

“Not just?” Saki asks. “Do you mean … murder?”

“NO! That's not what I mean at all! God what is wrong with you?”

“I'm going to die slowly and painfully before I reach middle age. Thank you ever so much for bringing it up,” she says without a hint of bitterness.

“What's not what I meant, it's just ...” I stammer. I don't know where to go from here.

“So, beating them up is out, we can't outdo them story wise...” what's-her-name the track girl trails off.

“We need a plan,” Molly says.

“What we need is somebody devious and tricky enough to come up with a good plan,” Natsume adds.

“Or insane enough,” say Ikuno snidely.

“Now THAT give me an idea,” Ryouko says with a devious smile.

…


“Umm... Iwanako? Do your thing.” Hikage says.

Everyone is looking at me again. Oh! I know what they're waiting on!



“Some time passed.”


“I'm not sure if this is a good idea,” I say.

“Relax. You'll do fine,” Saki says pushing me along.

“One last touch,” the art room girl says putting a ball cap on my head and starting to tuck my hair into it. “You have too much hair. Did anyone ever tell you that?” I don't answer her.

“Okay, so how do I look?” I ask. I put my arms up and turn around completely. Wearing a boys Yamaku uniform just makes me feel weird. I'm not even going to ask who had the boys uniform or why. I think it's best if I don't dig too deeply into these things.

“You'll do fine,” Monoko assures me.

“Just remember, you're a guy and you need help with the feminists,” Ikuno reminds me and physically pushes me forward. “We'll wait back in the common room.”

“Day room,” Ryouko corrects her. “And if he's not wearing pants when you open the door, get out!”

With the rest of the girls safely disappearing around the corner, look at the room number they gave me, written on a scrap sheet of paper.

“Okay, come on,” I said to myself out loud but softly. “This guy can't be any weirder than the other people you've been dealing with.” Hearing the words gave me a small boost in confidence, and also reminded me that I'd have to disguise my voice.

I knocked on the door.

“Are you a pizza?” came the voice from inside.

“Umm... no?

“I didn't order a pizza,” he calls back. It just makes me wonder why he asked in the first place.

“I'm not a pizza. I just need to talk to you. It's important. I was told you where the man to talk to,” I say trying to make my voice sound as gravely and masculine as I could.

Can.

I forgot what tense I'm using again. Dammit.

“Who told you to talk to me? About what? WHY!” his voice seems to get louder and more panicked by the second. While I'm trying to figure out how to answer him, he continues. “I'm not actually in right now,” he then says in a softer and calmer voice. “This is a recording. Beep.” He actually said the word beep.

“I know you're in there,” I say back to the door. I'm actually insulted that he thinks so little of my intelligence.

“Okay, fine, come in, but I'm warning you. This could easily be one of those stories where I have a machine gun!” There's several clicking sounds as numerous locks are undone and then the door opens. I was told quite a few things about this guy before they sent me off to see him.

Kenji was a more-than half blind paranoid shut-in conspiracy theorist with bad breath and obsession with stopping feminists. He was easily recognized by his messy hair, coke-bottle thick glasses, and the scarf he always wore.

He wasn't wearing his scarf or his suit. He wasn't even wearing his glasses. In fact he just had on a Hello Kitty t-shirt that was slightly too big for him, a pair of shorts, and a set of headphones around his neck. They were cranked up so loud that the music was easily recognizable as Girls by the Beastie Boys, or whatever the closest Japanese equivalent of that song is (assuming this as the localized translation.)

He stared at me, squinted, then squinted harder. It was fairly obvious that he was having trouble seeing me from only a couple of feet away.

“Do you need your glasses?” I asked.

“You might think that, but I only wear them for appearances. It makes me look smarter,” he says before turning and immediately tripping over a box on the floor. He staggered from that and missed sitting on his bed, instead falling to the floor. “But this is business, so perhaps that would be the proper protocol. Come in. Come in,” be beckoned.

I followed him inside. His room wasn't nearly as messy as I had expected. It was just packed with stuff. Almost every inch of his room was taken up. What wasn't boxes and packages was books and various nicknacks.

He took a seat, picked his glasses up off the desk, and put them on. “I see. You're one of those girly looking pretty boy types that the women go for,” he says. “Have a seat.”

“I'll stand,” I tell him, mostly because he has the only chair in the room. He frowned at this, maybe he was insulted by my refusing his hospitality. I will hope I hadn't blown this already.

“That's really annoying. You need to pick a tense and stick to it,” he says.

“Sorry. The narration is easier when it's automatic. When you have to force it, it takes a lot more effort,” I apologize.

“Now what did you want to talk to me about? It's not bowling is it? I swear that was some other Kenji that took your friends money.”

“ummm..”

“Assuming you have friends. You're not one of those anti-social loners are you? I make it a point never to trust those people. They can get really weird really quick,” he adds.

“Anyway, I was told that you would be the one to come to for a plan. There's a group of girls that are looking to strike back against the feminists and we need you to come up with a clever strategy for it,” I explain.

He looks at me, leans forward to look at me again, and then takes off his glasses to wipe them before he gets up walks over to me and looks at me even closer. “No you don't.” he says calmly. Great. My cover is blown. Also, his breath is really bad.

“The feminist have nothing to do with this,” he says. He sits back down and folds his hands in front of his face like some anime super villain. “That's your problem. You always blame everything on the feminists,” he says. I'm pretty sure I haven't actually talked to him before, and if I have, I'm even more certain he can't recognize me. “That flawless skin, those smooth soft features, that long hair, I know what you're really up to,” he says dramatically dragging out his revelation. I'm wondering if I could make it to the door before he can pounce on me. “You want me to get involved with your problems because the girls can't keep their hands off you!” he exclaims.

What? Hold up. Let me try to salvage it.

“No, umm... it's definitely feminists. I heard them plotting and they're going to come after my friends and you next.”

“You can't just wave the word gullible in front of me and expect me to be that feminist,” Kenji says. He paused for a second as he was trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with that sentence but wasn't quite sure it.

“Of course it's feminists. Why else would they be after me and trying to steal all the good stories?” I try desperately.

Kenji rose from his seat and walked over to face the window with his hands behind his back. It would have actually looked somewhat dramatic if it wasn't for the fact that his blinds were closed. “Maybe that's what you think, but let me clue you into how things really work. See, you're one of those girly looking guys. Chicks love that. Do you know why chicks love that? Because it makes them feel like they're making out with another chick. All girls are actually attracted to other girls, why do you think they have bikini models on girls fashion magazines? Sure some of them try to hide it, but there's no such thing as a straight girl. They're all at least a little bisexual. Think about it. Notice how they're always complimenting each others appearance and how they dress and all that fru-fru- girls stuff? If they could figure out how to make babies without using men, they'd wipe us all out in a heart beat! Think about it, man! That's why I'm firmly against cloning research. Those feminist scientists are working on it!”

“Umm... are you sure...” I start. I'm not sure which part of that rant I found the strangest.

“I look like I'm loosing you. 'S okay. It's a lot to take in at one time. Just think about it, though. Girls are always having sleep overs where they're doing each other's hair, each others make-up, having lingerie stick fights, pajama parties, panties only parties...” I rambles on. I really don't want to listen to this anymore, so I think of the best way to interrupt his mad grumblings as possible.

I fake a …. something attack. I start coughing really loud and gradually moving it into more of a “I'm about to throw up sound” then start shaking and twitching so bad I'm sure even he can see it. I keep it up longer than I intended. I had expected him to try to help me, but instead he just sat their and watched apparently. Realizing I'm not accomplishing anything I quit my attack.

“You okay now?” Kenji asks.

“Umm... yeah.”

“I figured that sort of thing happened to you a lot. So, where was I? Had I got to the locker room showers thing yet?” Well, at least now I know who to not be around if I ever have any serious kind of medical problem.

I not sure if that sentence worked.

Whatever. I'll let it go.

“I think I've heard enough. I need some time to digest this information. Last time, you're not going to help me are you?”

“It's not a feminist deal so I'm out. Gotta keep my head down. Hide in plain sight where nobody can see me, ya' know?”

“I appreciate it anyway, and thanks for your unique lessons and views on things. I've never thought of it like that,” and with that I leave. The reason I've never thought of it like that before is because it's insane. I'm not sure if I followed half of that conversation, but I needed to get out of there. If I had to listen to that much longer I'd have blow up on the guy. The whole, all girls are secretly gay thing really offended me.

I hope it's not out of character for me to have a temper.

Leaving the room and rounding the corner, I find only a few of the girls that had been working with me earlier. I'm a little bit disappointed, but not upset. A smaller cast will be easier to keep track of.

“Whee did everybody else go, asked Iwanako.”

“Still having problems with the narration thing?” Ryouko asked.

“ … yes.”

“Never mind, home dawg. Did Kenji make with the funky fresh deal-io?” said that art club girl. I think.

“Wait wait. First … what did you just say and why are you talking like that?” I asked.

“...I was worried I sounded too much like the rest of the cast and wasn't distinct enough. I'm sorry. I just thought that would make me stand out better. I won't do it again,” she said.

“Good. Don't. … and Kenji... he's not going to help,” I say.

“You did tell him it was about the feminist didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“and that didn't work?”

“He didn't fall for it.”

“How did you mess that up? He always falls for it!”

“Last year we got him to build three festival stalls by himself because we said it was to stop the feminists!”


“He once did my algebra homework for a week because I told him it would help against the feminists!”

“Once I got him to repaint my room by tell him the old paint was done by feminists!”

“I thought you'd never got him to do anything for you before, Iwanako.”

“That was Iwanako? I thought I was Iwanako.”

“Which one of us is talking!?!”

Despite the initial confusion, Ryouko, Iwanako, Hikage, Saki and Thisby eventually figured out where they were talking about and went to go meet up with the others.

“Where did that narrator come from?” asked Hikage.

“I don't know, but can we keep him?” Saki asked.

“I didn't know I was in this scene!” Thisby said. “Cool.”

“Well, since we've got that sorted out now, what happened in there?” Hikage inquired. “Did he not fall for the disguise?”

“He thought I was a guy, but then he insisted that my problems weren't because of feminists. Instead he thought it was because I was a guy that looked like a girl and then he rambled on about how all girls were secretly gay, so I left,” Iwanako explained to the group. “So where did everyone else go?”

“Oh, they went back to the common room to. They said they were going to have a topless kissing contest while they waited,” Saki explained.

“That sounds like normal heterosexual fun,” Iwanako said. “let's got give them the news. Maybe then we can come up with a … what are we on now? Plan C?”

“I think we've reached plan Q,” the art club girl replied plainly and thankfully without horrible mangled ghetto slang.

[brythain]

I know what this is. This is the missing Library Anniversary piece we've all been waiting for.

[Sharp-O]

I got nothing. I just keep thinking of the Pumpkin Escobar scene from Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back.

I don't know what the fuck you just said, little kid.

[swampie2]

[Mirage_GSM]

This story should be linked to in the Tips for Fanfction Writers thread.
A lot of writers could learn a thing or three about narration from this...

Highlight of the chapter: "...this week."

[Oddball]

This story should be linked to in the Tips for Fanfction Writers thread.
A lot of writers could learn a thing or three about narration from this...

By all means, link it. I would myself, but I'm not quite sure what description I'd use for it.

[TubaMirum]

By all means, link it. I would myself, but I'm not quite sure what description I'd use for it.

"Narration: How you can be an absolute trainwreck but still be readable."

[Oddball]

I would like to take a moment to thank the numerous people that have contributed fan art to this story.





I would like to, but nobody has done any.



Jerks.




We return to Chapter 4 already in progress.


“--her name is Hanako. She's got purple hair and was in a fire when she was little. I'm her long lost brother that she probably doesn't remember. I know there's a girl here with purple hair named Hanako who was in a fire, and is the right age, but I'm not 100% sure this is the same girl,” said the boy who was most likely Hanako's long lost brother. “I'm probably about 97% sure but that's just not enough!”

“Oh, umm... you just missed her,” Hikage said.

“Yeah, she … umm... got mad at a guy, yelled at him, and then ran away from school. Forever,” Ryouko chimed in.

“She ran far far away. To Bolivia!” Saki added. The boy looked confused. Then heartbroken. Then he left.

“That's, like, the fifth one this week,” Hikage said with some amount of disgust in her voice. “Now that we've taken care of that, remind me again what we were doing.”

“I'm going to be honest. I'm not sure I ever knew what we were doing to begin with,” Molly said. Yes. Molly. Yeah, the small group went and met back up with the bigger group. You missed when that happened. Try to get here earlier next time.

“We're trying to get back at the main cast for hogging all the best stories,” Hikage said.

“I'll never forgive them for that!” Ikuno said.

“And getting Kenji to come up with a plan didn't work,” Saki provided the exposition.

“I suppose that can't be helped,” Ikuno sighed.

“And at some point all of Ikuno's lines were replaced by horrible cliches. I suggest we start hitting her until she stops,” the girl we were calling Thisby said.

“Do your best!” Ikuno exclaimed. “ … Wait. No. Don't. … I just wanted more lines....”

“Oh yeah, and we caught Aeris and Sailor Moon having sex in the women's bathroom,” that green haired track team girl said.


“Oh, really? That's where they got off too? I was wondering what happened to them,” I said. Me being Iwanako, in case who ever is reading this forgot or the narration got screwed up again.

“It was actually well written and important to the plot. You should have been there.” I wasn't paying attention to who said that. I don't think I want to know why that was important to the plot. Or how. Better we just skip that part.

“Man, we're at chapter four already and there's still no sign of a plot! We've got to come up with something!” said Marika.

She's the purple haired girl in the purple wheelchair in case your forgot. I'm not entirely sure she's supposed to be in this story.

“Let's go over this one more time,” Ryouko said. Most of the group groaned. One of them threw a styrofoam cup at her head.

“It's okay. It's okay. I think we should listen to her,” I said waving my arms to get their attention and trying to remind people that I'm the main character here so I get to pick what we get to do.

“Okay. We all know who is stealing the best stories. We want to do something about it. None of us has any good ideas. I stress the word good. Lastly, Kenji wasn't able to help even when we told him it would help defeat the feminists,” Ryouko stated plainly.

“What about all the ninjas and giant robots that attacked back in chapter two?” Sayuri said. Everyone ignored her.

“Ruuuh ruuuooon gah hyuk,” Ryouko then mumbled incoherently. This was mostly because she suddenly seemed to be going down on some weirdo in a scarf.

“Goddammit, woman! What the hell are you doing? That penis doesn't belong to you! Get it out of your mouth right now! You've got no clue where it's been!” Kenji said with his pants down around his ankles and his manhood down Ryouko's throat.

“I have a hard time believing none of us noticed a guy coming in her and pulling down his pants and … “ I say. My voice trailing off.

“I noticed. I just thought that was one of those things we planed on. I really have no clue what's going on,” Molly said.

Ryouko pulled herself away and flew into a fit of coughing and spitting before she was able to speak again. “I told you this would happen! I told you!”

“Kenji? What are you doing here?” Sayuri asked calmly.

“I heard my name. I thought I was in this scene. No?”

“No! No! Look! We were trying to have a good story and – and stuff without any of that and you just... ooohhh!” Molly yelled. I don't think I've ever seen her this mad before. She usually doesn't have that much personality in these stories. “Just get out of here you jerk – bastard and just go … Go fuck a duck.”

“Eh. Whatever. I'm outta here. I think I'll just go say perverted things to deaf people or something fun,” Kenji said as he started towards the door.

“Oooohhh! Trying to make Yuuko jealous?” Saki teased.

“Who's Yuuko?” Kenji asked.

“The Librarian.”

“That old woman?” Kenji said looking confused. “Why would I care if she was jealous?”

“No. The other librarian,” Saki said. “The one that also works at the Shanghai.”

“We have two librarians? And they're both girls? And one of them also serves food? Why doesn't anybody tell me these things!” Kenji sounded panicked and he ran off. I also think I might be getting my tenses mixed up again.

“Really, Molly? Go fuck a duck?” Natsume said. Asked. Which ever word you use here.

“Sorry. It was the first thing I could think of!” Molly said somewhat apologetically.

“This is why you're not allowed to curse in these stories,” Monoko replied.

“Kenji did just give me an idea though. I know who we can go to for help,” Saki said with a twisted smile.

“Oh no. Not more cast members. I don't get any lines as it is. I bet everyone's already forgot I was in this story!” said Ikuno. Ritsu patted her on the back to comfort her.

“Hey, if we're going to get more cast members, can we go find that girl who has that thing where she can't remember stuff?” Natsume said.

“Ooh! And how about what's her name that lived in the boys dorm for a while?” Molly says excitedly. “I liked her.”

“I didn't hear about that one. You're going to have to tell me that story later. It sounds interesting,” Saki said, obviously somewhat surprised.

“Sounds kinky,” Time Warp Tan says moments later, but I'm going to put her dialogue here because otherwise it's going to interrupt the flow of the story.'







….










Why is everybody looking at me?

“We're waiting on you,” Molly said. I have no clue what she means so I just stare at her with a vacant expression on my face. .

“Are you going to start another chapter or what?” purple haired purple wheelchair girl says to me.

“Oh! That!” I say. “Do you think I need to?”

“Well, you've kind of ruined it now. Let's just keep going,” Ryouko said.

“I have some friends that don't get included in-” Thisby starts to say before getting cut off.

“Look! We're just going to go get one more person. Just one,” Saki says firmly. “… umm... does anybody speak sign language?” she adds with a bit of embarrassment. Nobody speaks out.

“Maybe two more people?” I suggest. Saki just sighs.

“Now do we start the new chapter?” Molly asks.

“Just leave the new chapter stuff to me,” I say. “I know what I'm doing, I say hoping they believe me. I really don't know what I'm doing.”

“You said that whole thing out loud,” Ryouko tells me.

“I can take over narrating for a while, if it's too much for you,” Natsume cuts in.

“And that is when I left and let Ikuno take over the story said Iwanako,” said Ikuno.

“Nice try, but no,” I told her. She replied with something I don't want to repeat.


… and a short time later we found ourselves in a part of the dorms I didn't recognize. That that it means much. There's quite a bit of the school I don't recognize. I don't get here that often. It's part of the drawbacks to being extended cast. Still, out of all the school parts I don't recognize, this is the part that I don't recognize the most... let's just for get I said that. I make no sense.

Anyway, I knock on the door.

Answering the door is a very familiar face … on a very unfamiliar body.

She looks at me and blink hard twice before shaking her head and looking at me again. “Okay, I'm not seeing things.” There was a pause between us until she spoke again. “This is one of those weird gender swap things again, isn't it? I'll never get used to those.”

“Yeah, I uh... guess,” I stutter. Trying to figure out what to say I look over at Saki for my backup.

“Nope. This one's on you,” she says with a smile. She's enjoying this far too much.

“So, you're girl Hisao,” I say.

“My name's actually, Hisako,” she says and then absent mindedly runs her hands though her hair. Even with long hair, Hisao still has those little strands that don't stay down.

“I'm Iwanako,” I say, doing a short bow.

“You're name as a guy makes much more sense,” she says.

“You're cuter as a guy,” I counter.

“You're not,” she says. I'm a bit flustered and don;'t know what to say about that, thankfully she continues. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

crap. Crap crap crap! There's like eighty cast members in this story so far. Which ones did I bring with me?

“Err... role call,” I mutter.

“I'm Molly. This is Saki, Ryouko, and Hikage,” Molly steps forth to introduce everybody. I dodged a bullet there.

“and Ikuno!” Ikuno jumps out. “Don't forget Ikuno!”

I glare at her as if to say “Give it a rest, Ikuno.”

“Give it a rest, Ikuno,” Molly says, which makes me feel like she's some sort of mind reader. “Don't you have another game to go mess around in?”

“Don't you?” Ikuno replies. I Molly lightly cusses under her breath.

“Children, please. Behave yourselves,” Saki said in an exaggerated snotty tone.

Hikage should probably have a line here.
“It's okay. I don't have anything to add,” Hikage informs me.

I look back towards Hisao-girl who just shrugs., She must be used to this sort of thing, being around the school more often than I am. It's weird. Her mannerisms are almost exactly the same as guy Hisao's.

I thought of him as Hisao-man for a second there, but that just sounds like a superhero and I'm fairly sure we aren't doing that anymore this story. Not since we had to fight those giant robots back in chapter two.

“What can I help you all with?” Hisao-lady asks trying to get us back on topic.

“I have no idea.” I say flatly. She arch and eyebrow and looks at me curiously. “We just wanted to teach the main cast a lesson because they're always stealing all the good stories but none of us could come up with an idea about how to do so, so we went to Kenji but that didn't work, and then Saki had the idea to go get you but I don’t know why, and at some pointy we were attacked by ninjas!” I ramble on.

It's true. Ninja attack people all the time in Japan. This was the fifth time I've had to fight them this week. Thankfully, ninja season is about over. Next week is supposed to be the start of rainy season instead. It means more soggy bad hair days, but less katana fights.

“We need somebody that knows sign language,” Saki steps forward and says more clamly than I was managing.

Yes. Clamly. She said it like a clam. That wasn't a typo. I meant to do that.

“I think I know where you're going with this,” said the Hisao that had a vagina.

Let me guess, we're going to go meet man-Shizune now. I bet she's called something like … Manzune? Shiguy? ... I think I've figured out why I'm bad at narrating things. I'm horrible at coming up with ideas.

“I bet you're close, but not quite there,” Saki replied.

“Is there any reason I was in this scene?” asked Ryouko.

Then as group we all went to another section of the dorms that I didn't know existed. Have I just never walked around the grounds at any point in these stories before?

While we walked, we chatted, told some jokes, hand waved some subplots that most people had forgotten about and eventually found our way to our destination. It was a door.

“This cliffhanger sucks,” said Ikuno.







Look for the next and final chapter sometime in November. (Maybe slightly sooner.)

[DrunkWaifu]

“Sounds kinky,” Time Warp Tan says moments later, but I'm going to put her dialogue here because otherwise it's going to interrupt the flow of the story.'

I hope we get more before november.

[swampie2]

There's only one way this war can be won... by pitting Shizune up against Rosa.

[Silentcook]

Uh... I understand that the point of this is to suck. Great success. It sucks. It sucks in ways I never thought possible before. It sucks so much that it could revolutionize black hole theories. It's a wonderful effort cramming together some of the worst fanfic crap I've seen attempted and performed, and I've seen some shit.

The problem is, of course, that it sucks. As a poster child for "NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS EVER", it's perfect. As a fanfic, not so much. I'm seriously wondering where and how it could be salvaged, because you just know that sooner or later, someone will point at it and say "you've left that on the Fan Fiction section, and my fanfic is better than that!"

...Actually, they'll say something like " youve leaved that on the fourms, and my fanfix is more gooder than that[/i!!!!!!!!1 ", but you get the point. Never mind that they'll be trying to excuse some utterly pointless, lolrandumXD garbage. There's no explaining satire to petty dumb people, because they don't get it and don't want to.

So Oddball and rest of the merry gang, I'm kinda open to suggestions here.

[Sharp-O]

It's metafictional satire, I say leave it be. It's funny for how much it's poking fun at all (and I include myself in that) of our worst attempts at writing and, as you have said, serves as a guide on how not to do something.

[Mirage_GSM]

...Actually, they'll say something like " youve leaved that on the fourms, and my fanfix is more gooder than that[/i!!!!!!!!1 ", but you get the point. Never mind that they'll be trying to excuse some utterly pointless, lolrandumXD garbage. There's no explaining satire to petty dumb people, because they don't get it and don't want to.

If any of that bunch manage to pull off something like this, that'ss be the day, when the Beatles get on stage together again - all four of them.

To write this story as Oddball did, you not only have to know language well enough to use it correctly but also to play with it and to twist it and bend it to your will.

So while the story of this might be (intentionally) awful, and one could object to that - though I'd say there are lots of fics here the story of which is worse - the little editor in me enjoys the heck out of the writing that is going into this piece, and I think if prospective writers were to study and actually understand everything Oddball did with this, they'd certainly be better writers for it.