Martial Artist of the Week
M A Davis / Miko
"Martial Arts Cooking?"
Ranma scratched his head. He took a good long walk around the concept, mentally speaking, but it looked odd from every angle.
"I've done martial arts dining," heaid after a moment. "There was also that martial arts home delivery contest. That was unusual. And we've certainly had our share of cooking contests lately...."
"Don't forget that martial arts tea ceremony," Nabiki said.
"Yeah," Ranma replied, "that too!"
"And then there's Ukyo," Nabiki said. "She does okonomiyaki martial arts."
"But martial arts cooking?" Ranma said. "That's a new one on me."
"It's an ancient art handed down from generation to generation," the stranger said. "I am the current master, and have never been defeated."
"Except once," Nabiki said.
"Except once," the stranger agreed. "That one defeat is a stain upon my reputation, and I have come to wash it away."
Ranma looked at the challenger dubiously. He was a short, fat, foreigner, with a round face, a bushy black moustache and bushy black eyebrows. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt, buttoned down the front, and black slacks, with a large white apron tied about his waist and a tall "chef's hat" perched upon his head.
"My name," the man said, "is Chef Hans. I come seeking revenge."
"Tell me something I don't know," Ranma said, cracking his knuckles.
"Just another day at the Tendo Dojo," Nabiki said. "You should make him take a number, Ranma." She paused to sip her tea. A light breeze blew across the flagstones, stirring a few unraked leaves. Somewhere in the distance there was the tinkle of a wind chime, and the ploink of a koi failing to levitate above the pond.
The front door opened with a swish.
"What are you guys up to?" Akane asked as she stepped into the courtyard. "Ranma, who's this? Another martial artist who's life you ruined?"
"Apparently," Nabiki said. She took a sip of her tea. "Make it quick, Ranma, we don't want to be here all night."
"Ever since my defeat five years ago," the chef said, "my life has been a living hell...."
"Yeah, yeah, spare me the details," Ranma said, stretching. "I've heard it all before. Exactly how did I make your life a living hell? Could you remind me? I don't exactly remember...."
"It was no man that ruined my life," Chef Hans said. "It was a woman -- a young girl."
Nabiki dumped the rest of her iced tea onto Ranma's head. Ranma growled as the transformation overtook him -- now her. "A girl with red hair, perhaps?" Nabiki asked sweetly.
The man's eyes grew wide, but he shook his head. "No, not red hair," he said. "She had long, brown hair. Her last name was Tendo...."
As one, Ranma and Nabiki turned to look at Akane. She blinked her eyes in confusion.
"Akane?" Ranma asked.
"No," Nabiki said, "it couldn't be."
Akane frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The door opened again, and another girl stepped out of the house.
"Oh my!"Kasumi said. Her eyes went wide, and her hand went to her mouth. "It's Chef Hans!"
"Sis?" Akane said. "You know this man?"
Chef Hans smiled grimly.
"Kasumi Tendo," he growled. "Or should I say, 'The Betty Crocker of Furinkan High'? At last, we meet again, only this time, victory will be mine! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
He held up a large baster and an even larger ladle, and assumed a defensive crouch.
"Kasumi?" Ranma asked in confusion.
"Just stay back, Ranma," Kasumi said, rolling up her sleeves. "This one's all mine." Producing a large wooden mixing spoon and holding it before her like a sword, she said, "So, what's it going to be this time, Hans? French? Chinese? Italian?"
"I was thinking," the chef said, "that this time, we could try some Cajun...."
FINI