Hearshot Kid Disaster +PPV+

Hearshot Kid Disaster: Chapter One

Another day, another Yen, another workout for the woman quickly becoming the next big cult favorite wrestler. Josephine was already heavily into her daily workout, laying back on the bench in the rather large gym situated within walking distance from the WCF arena, clothed in a sports bra and pair of tights that pretty much mimicked her wrestling attire. She knew the fans were going to be out in full force today, why not have a little fun with them? So there she was, blond hair cascading behind her, as she bench-pressed more weight than she was sure anyone watching her could. After that final rep almost set her arms on fire, she screamed out, racking the bar and sitting back up to the applause of the teenaged male crowd that had become glued to her workout.

"FUCKING A RIGHT!", Jojo screamed, letting loose with an impressive bicep flex. Always give the fans what they want, she thought as she reached for a towel, leaning against the large barbell as she grinned at her impromptu audience. No matter where Josephine was over the course of her life, or the dozens of gimmicks she'd wrestled as over the course of a decade, she knew that was the cardinal rule. Especially in independent federations like this.

Usually when she was out on the town, Jojo didn't like messing around with the usually obsessive and horny fan base she'd built up. But it was important to schedule out moments like this, to keep them happy. So a good 15-30 pictures for her website and a handful of autographed pictures later, Josephine had finally gotten her hands on a bottle of sake, and sat down for a small Q&A session recorded by a small tape recorder in her gym bag.

"Alright, motherfuckers. Let's get the obvious questions out of the way. If any of you think I take steroids or any of that other bullshit, you can check any of the drug tests from any of the all-natural bodybuilding shows I've done recently. Anyone who thinks my tits are fake can go to my website and see just how big they were at 14. Good genetics, hard work, and generally being better than all you motherfuckers. Let's try to keep this to wrestling, alright?"

Not everything was going to be a softball question. Jojo liked to think she had an intelligent fanbase built up over the course of a decade. But the first person to ask if wrestling was face was going to get a DDT right through the weight bench. The steel weight bench.

"Lady Miyazaki...."

"Ah, you know how I like to be referred. You first."

"Thank you... Lady Miyazaki, you've held two belts at once in two countries... Hardcore and Tag champs with your sister in Tokyo Goddess Pro, and the Internet and Tag titles twice, once with Daisy Revolver, and once with Mary Arson in Mexico City Burning Lucha Libre... you're so successful overseas, why come to America? I mean, most people in America don't respect wrestling."

Jojo leaned forward slightly, looking at the fan with a grin as she took another swig. "Because of people like you. I mean, look at that. You were able to rattle off my history just like that. I've said it before. Over in Japan, wrestling is a sport. In Mexico, it's tradition. In America, it's bullshit. American wrestling, and American wrestlers, aren't worth shit..."

Jojo grinned slightly, watching the faces of the crowd in front of her as she took another swig.

"But damned if American wrestling fans aren't some of the greatest motherfuckers around. I mean, how many of you motherfuckers still watch that bullshit coming out of Stamford? I mean, back home, they'd have run the place out of business after that Katie Vick bullshit. And Japan has MORE tolerance for wild gimmicks."

Another fan stepped up as Jojo went to polishing off her bottle of sake.

"Lady Miyazaki, speaking of those gimmicks. Before you settled with Glorious Chris as Violent Drunkard, you had a ton of wild gimmicks. What gimmick do you think is closest to the real you?"

The fans braced for the answer, having the eerie feeling they already knew what it was... and indeed, whether she was being a general for the forces of evil, a mad painter, a cyborg assassin from the future, or a mythic fiery phoenix, she gave that question the same reply...

"This IS the real me. Right now."

"Lady Miyazaki, there's a Pay-Per-View next week, and somehow you were able to get that spot alongside Ellis at the Tag Titles. So that double gold thing is a lock, but the question is, why did you get chosen of all people for that shot?"

Jojo sneered slightly, finishing off her bottle. "You saying I don't deserve it?"

She watched the fan sweat for a few seconds and stammer for an answer before she let loose with a deep, guttural laugh. "Just fucking with you. Actually, Sean Hughes, this 'rookie of the year' guy who got pushed to the main event WAY too soon, got fired or dropped or got a sinus infection or something. Apparently, Logan couldn't be assed to hunt down another contender, so since Ellis was getting the short end of the fucking stick, they let her manager choose someone... you remember Kikyo? Managed me when I was doing the Jo Phoenix thing in Mexico in the year between Violent Drunkard and coming here?"

"Why did you break off your relation with Matchbox Kikyo anyways?"

"Because I really didn't need it anymore. She was kinda cramping my style anyways. After I picked up the language, got my oversees shit in order, we split up."

"What do you think about Torture and Nytro? You've already fought them once and..."

Jojo grabbed another bottle of sake as she cut the fan off. "... and Ace was the one who fucking got pinned, not me. He was the weak fucking link. All that bullshit about being the highest card in the deck? He's not even that... what's that little faggot card they always throw in, the useless one that they use to tell people poker hands. That's Ace. As for Tort and Nytro, I'll admit, I got caught off-guard by them last time. But second chances are what I'm all about. I got fucking Torture's number this time around, that ancient motherfucker. And that Nytro faggot too, with the fucking UFO crap, butt-raped by an alien probe."

"What's your opinion on your new partner Ellis?"

For the first time that afternoon, Jojo was silent for a few seconds as she picked up her gym bag. "I dunno. Jury's still out on that kid. All I know is that as a team, we're 1-0. Look, it's been a hell of a time, but I gotta get on my way. Got appointments and all that shit, so you guys get your tickets to Timebomb, and get your asses to the WCF this Sunday, and I'll see you motherfuckers around. After a workout like this, I gotta get back to my hotel and... take a nice... long... hot shower."

Not wanting to see how many of these IWC fans had 'exploded' at that mention, Jo made her way out of the gym, and made the short walk back to South Ashford Heights, bag slung over her back. Gotta shower, gotta update my website with these new muscle and fan pics and that interview, and then a fancy dinner on the town, courtesy of the Pao-Pao Cafe.

Work never stops, she thought with a grin.

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Hearshot Kid Disaster: Chapter Two

Darkness, and it's connection to the other world, is one of the most wildly held misconceptions on this Earth.

Most people who watch horror movies these days count and pick off cliches, not even bothering to notice that in scenes of extreme evil, there's almost always some darkness. Incidents happening at night, in dark basements and alleyways. But darkness doesn't refer to the absence of physical light... at least, not the darkness intertwined with the other world. Darkness, in connecting with the world that scared the living, referred more to an aura, for lack of a better word. A feeling, a spirit. For even in the middle of broad daylight, evil things happened.

So Ellis had no qualms about going to the cemetery in the middle of the day. She knew that the exact same things from both worlds would be here regardless of it being twelve midnight, or as it was, twelve noon. And as usual, she could feel the wisps of conscious flowing in and out, looking for a conduit like her. Had she known someone who had passed away here, Ellis probably would have had an easier time communicating with the spirits. But as it was, this was a bright field lined with tombstones and ghosts she couldn't recognize. Nothing more than a few random images came to mind.

Is it because I'm not truly attuned to this darkness inside of me, Ellis pondered as she sat still on the stone bench, giving up after nearly an hour of a near-meditative state. Or is it because of him? The phone call she'd placed the night after Slam only solidified the feeling she'd had. Jack was determined to toy with Ellis. This was more than a fancy, more than 'shits and giggles', as he put it. He couldn't have held so tenaciously to her after being incinerated, and nearly severed in half by Second Stage, Ellis' scythe. Jack Blaine Nolan, or what was left him, was a liar and a fool. She was almost sure that Jack had a deeper intention. Possibly known one of the people in her tortured past and wanted to continue their punishment.

The only thing she knew is that if he dared lay his hands on Kikyo again, she'd be more than willing to open the gates she felt she now guarded and whisk his grinning carcass over to the other side.

Best to try not to think about this lying fool, the corpse girl thought to herself as she again gripped onto her scythe, now engraved with the words "Second Stage Turbine Blade" on the gnarled wood. Second Stage was anything but fancy, but the massive cleaving blade would suffice. A blade to cleave the face of God for what He's done, and to separate the realms of the living and dead. Realms that both had outcasted her.

Making her way back to the expensive PT Cruiser Kikyo had purchased her... more like an investment, she was told... Ellis took stock of her 'friends'. When she'd come to this city, all she'd had in the way of carving an ending was her bloody, rusted boxcutter... an old friend that came back into Ellis' hand as she locked herself in her car and dragged itself across her forehead, releasing the lifeblood... deathblood, Ellis corrected herself... that got her by. One day all the blood will flow from me, and this corpse's transformation will be complete...

In addition to her unnamed Boxcutter, she'd also acquired the blindingly sharp, highly crafted switchblade formerly belonging to Big Hector, another victim of those who'd tried to harm the angel of mercy sent to watch over the guardian of death. As effective as the boxcutter was for carving into her own flesh, the switchblade was effective for carving into others. It'd gotten her out of several subsequent skirmishes with the Corner Store Bouriquas. Then there was Second Stage... her beautiful scythe she'd barely been able to fit into her cruiser. And now Longcindia... the shimmering golden lighter she'd used to ignite the flash-paper fireball that she'd hoped would finally deter Jack from his little 'obsession'.

I'm making friends already, she thought as the blood trickled down her face.

Friends and enemies, she thought. For her meteoric rise to infamy in the WCF had caught more attention than she'd have liked. Kikyo had warned her over one of their late-night Chinese take out strategy sessions in her run-down apartment, that fame would start to become a factor in her everyday life. But even the screaming adoration of thousands of fans, or whatever the take was that the WCF claimed to get from the gate, did little if anything to appease the beast inside her soul, the darkness threatening to overtake the life she'd tried to carve out for herself. Carving... another few small notches made their way across her forehead courtesy of her boxcutter, the slashes hiding themselves in the network of insane scars that landscaped the pale flesh of the living corpse.

And she'd caught the attention of the front office as well. Three newcomers... herself, the wretched Jack, and the Cairo character she could care less about holding a title the world could care less about... held all of what glittered. She had the feeling that this was the true intention behind the office reintroducing the Tag Team Titles, when the only serious tag team on the roster was Simply Outrageous, those twins that hung out with Ripper. So that the veterans could have something to hold on to. And now, through whatever circumstances fate threw together, two of the aligned veterans had a shot.

Ellis couldn't have cared less about the belts themselves. But to take on two veterans such as Nytro and Torture, Ellis knew that the "millionaire's club" was willing to do anything it could to reward it's own. There was no question of the alliance between Torture, Nate Nytro, and Creeping Death. They'd proven that back at what was considered to be the new genesis of the WCF, Payback. And rumor around the office was that the only reason that Kikyo was allowed to make the decision as to who Ellis' replacement partner would be... so much for this up-and-comer, she thought... was because she would pick Creeping Death, a veteran with a similar, yet false, gimmick. But Ellis couldn't have given less of a fuck about Creeping Death, a creature who's stock had fallen dramatically and was forced to fight Frosty the Snowman. And in making her choice, Kikyo knew that.

The decision she had made should have been more obvious to the corpse girl. Josephine... she still resented the musclebound woman. But as much as she hated Jo's character, she knew that the she-hulk would be fighting like mad to replicate her past successes, and as another newcomer to this federation, would have to deal with the same trials and tribulations she did... maybe moreso, being a champion. As much as she hated the woman's character, she acknowledged her fighting power and strength. As long as the two of us can get along...

After letting her wounds seal, and relishing in the pain and the blood her boxcutter's handiwork had wrought, a flick of the key brought the Cruiser to life, and Ellis was back on the road once again. So she and the she-hulk would be taking on Torture and Nate Nytro, with the world watching. CD was almost a lock to interfere, with his millionaire's club status and alliance with her opponents. Jack and Ace were almost locks to interfere as well, their match with Simply Outrageous looking more and more like a squash with each bit of information she'd gleaned from the Dread Knocks, or whatever they called themselves. She couldn't rule out Logan either, or any of the other members of the millionaire's club that felt their final breaths being taken away by this onslaught of new talent, and were adamant on keeping their top spots. Josephine's mouth had probably gained her several enemies, and her status as a champion in record time garnering the ire of the veteran class as well.

Everything was on Nytro and Torture's side, all odds against the living corpse, she mused as she pulled back into town. Then again, when have I ever had the advantage? Always have been, always will be, worthless in the eyes of the world, discarded in the eyes of God, and only accepted in the embrace of the dead. A worthless living corpse.

Forcing herself to snap out of the conversation she'd had with herself countless times before about her worth, she pulled into the parking lot of a dressmaker's shop, killing the Cruiser again with the flick of a key, and removing a small credit card from her wallet, staring at it. For expenses, Kikyo had told her. Daddy insists. Go buy yourself a dress today, because we're gonna have a fancy dinner out, and enjoy ourselves. Not feeling like going to the Pao-Pao Cafe tonight, but trusting her Ambellina's judgment more than anything else, Ellis didn't bother to wipe the blood from her face as she went into the dressmaker's.

Maybe tonight could be a night I won't have to deal with my darkness, she thought. Just a nice, relaxing dinner. She immediately scolded herself.

How could anything be considered relaxing when Josephine was going to be involved?

---

~Ellis

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Hearshot Kid Disaster- Chapter Three

---

The sprawling penthouse at the South Ashford Heights hotel was far more than a tiny teenager would need. But Yoshimitsu Daioh, in his ever growing interest in the distribution of the WCF oversees, wanted his daughter to have only the best. So on that afternoon, looking out at the picture window that overlooked a bustling city punctuated by the WCF Arena in the distance... an arena in need of some repair... Kikyo Daioh shuffled through papers with a pencil in one hand and a box of apple juice in the other.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I take on too much work, the world's cutest manager thought to herself. In addition to managing Ellis and nearly putting her on suicide watch, Kikyo still did a little freelance work for Josephine, arranging flights and setting up dates oversees, and was also working on getting the background of the WCF for her father's distribution company, Daioh Entertainment industries. In doing so, she'd done research on her charge's opponents for the next week. She couldn't find very much on Nate Nytro, but honestly didn't feel all that concerned. Torture was going to be the larger problem. A man with an amazing winning streak and title history, as well as someone that the veterans respected. She felt sorry for Torture, having been through what he'd been through, but forced herself to remember that he'd gotten what he felt was revenge.

Kikyo didn't have nearly the bleak outlook that Ellis and Josephine had on the match, but always looking at the world through rose colored glasses will do that to someone. All Kikyo saw was an opportunity, win or lose, to pit Ellis alongside an international wrestling legend against two people the 'suits' of the WCF would have preferred win the titles, and a chance for Josephine to get revenge with a far more competent partner at her side.

Of course, Ellis and Josephine had been so busy looking at the Tag match and concentrating on trying to eliminate the 'good old boy' advantage, as well as interference from any other interested parties, that Kikyo was the only person thinking about the Hardcore match Josephine would be in against a mystery opponent. Kikyo, in all her ability, had actually found out who the WCF had booked for the Hardcore title shot... she pulled out his bio again and looked at it, giving a cute little chuckle. Josephine had nothing to worry about. Her title was safe.

Setting aside the paperwork, Kikyo made her way over to the couch, popping her copy of "Everybody Loves Katamari Damacy" into the complimentary PS2. She still had a couple of hours before she had to be at the Pao-Pao cafe, and was already dressed... a long, shimmering yellow sun dress that made it's way all the way down to her cute little feet. And besides, as they said, "Rolling is so much fun". But Kikyo found it more as a relaxation tool. The game was so easy, as well as easy on the eyes, it gave her a chance to relax her mind after what had been three days of straight work. Some kids her age were still going through High School. Kikyo was already a college graduate stuck in the work force.

Sometimes she got a bit depressed that she didn't have nearly as long a childhood as her friends did, essentially an adult at 16. But that's the price to pay when you have a gift.

---

The Pao-Pao cafe was about as classy as they came. Marble floors, picture windows overlooking the shimmering evening, chandeliers, classical music. But even in this classy, sophisticated atmosphere, the waiter that showed Kikyo to her seat referred to her as Matchbox Kikyo, the name she used managing Jo Phoenix in Mexico. This really is a wrestling town, she thought.

Kikyo-chan knew she was going to be the first person there, but she was surprised at seeing that Josephine had arrived before Ellis. Clad in a cherry-red business suit that matched her shimmering lipstick, nail polish, round-framed sunglasses, and shoes, Jojo was a vision of cool confidence and sex appeal. But Kikyo frowned slightly seeing what Jojo had tucked under her arm... sheet music. Making her way over to one of the violin players, Jojo handed him the sheet music and more or less demanded he study it before making her way over to the table, sitting across from Kikyo. The tiny prodigy barely had time to open her mouth before Jojo took off her sunglasses and snapped her fingers, demanding a waiter.

"Jojo-chan... I just wanted to apologize again. I really did enjoy managing you before. But Ellis..."

Jojo held up one hand to silence Kikyo before ordering her signature 'classy' drink... a crimson rose and a gin and tonic. "Forget about it. It's all cool. But I'll be totally honest, I don't see what you fucking see in this kid."

"Then why did you agree to come tonight?"

"Free food, free booze, who the fuck am I to turn this shit down. Why'd you invite me?"

"Well, if we're going to be partners this week, and I like to think I'm both your friends, I thought maybe we could take this chance to get to know each other."

"Whatever", Jojo blurted out as she took her drink, tossing the rose to the floor and chugging the gin and tonic. "Where's our fucking breadsticks? After the workout I had today, I'm fucking starving. Waiter! And get me another crimson rose and a gin and tonic while you're at it, asshole!"

Kikyo sighed. Same old Josephine.
---

Ellis forced herself to stuff the urge to cut herself down as she pulled the shimmering black Cruiser into the parking lot, ignoring the valet standing at the entrance. Thanks to the brutal life she'd led, she still had trouble trusting even Kikyo sometimes, so how could she trust a total stranger with her brand-new car?

As Ellis slid her scythe, Jack's rusted blood cleaned off for the occasion and the blade made as shimmering and sharp as new, out of the cruiser, she took a second to overlook the Pao-Pao Cafe. Living on the streets after the liberation from home after abusive home, she'd seen places like this, elegant high-end places where the elite met to discuss world affairs, politics, life, and possibly even eat something. Now she had the opportunity to step inside one of these places...

Ellis felt about as uncomfortable as she looked. Her dull grey hair hid those tombstone-colored eyes, but her usual street attire had been replaced by a sleeveless black dress, a stark color contrast to the scarred, slashed, horribly pale flesh coming out of it at the arms and neck, the slashed face that told of a lifetime of abuse. The only comfort she felt was from gripping her dearest Second Stage closely to her in the hand not busied by a simple black purse, the scent of death clinging to both her and her blade. If they wouldn't allow her to bring her 'date' into the restaurant, she'd simply leave, she decided as she made her way in. Luckily, one of the waiters, in all his sophistication and elegance, actually recognized Ellis from the WCF, and convinced the Maitre'D to let her to bring the 'date' slung over her shoulder in. Besides, he explained as he led her to her table, she couldn't be any worse than the woman getting drunk on roses.
---

And so the scene was set. Ellis with her dear Ambellina on her right glancing nervously between the two wrestlers, her dearest Second Stage on the left glinting brilliantly in the chandelier's light, and this Prize Fighter Inferno across from her, chowing down on breadsticks and throwing up the middle finger and anybody foolish enough to look over at the motley crew. Kikyo was the first one to speak anything other than a nearly unintelligible "Fuck you".

"You look nice, Ellis-sama.", Kikyo commented, deciding to leave the issue of the scythe sitting across from her where it was. "You still have the card my daddy gave us for expenses?"

Ellis, her throat growing more raw by the day, speech getting more painful, simply nodded as she reached into her purse and pulled out the shimmering golden card, handing it back to the tiny prodigy, who proceeded to hold it up in the air for a second.

"Alright, guys. Eat up. It's all on my daddy!", she chirped out as a pair of waiters, one to take the order and one to sweep up the roses, emerged. "Hm... I'll take the vegetable soup!"

"Just a salad.", Ellis rasped out, barely audible over the sounds of the violin player reading the sheet music and struggling through the opening riffs of "Enter Sandman".

"Fuck is wrong with you two?", Josephine shouted out. "Money's not an issue, fucking go for it! Waiter, give me a big thick fucking steak, rare enough that I can hear that fucker moo when I shove my fork into it. Mashed potatoes, fried okra, all that good shit. And a big ass bowl of miso soup if you got any. Oh, and chocolate cake for all of us..."

Jojo grinned as she chugged down the rest of her drink and tossed the rose at Ellis' scythe. "Even him. You need to get some meat on your bones, pal. Ellis, what you been feeding this motherfucker?"

"The blood of those who would harm the innocent."

"... get him a steak too. Just make sure the cow was evil. One of those nasty fucking pirate cows with an eyepatch, you know? One of those cows, they sit on the track, they wait for the fucking train to stop, then his friends jump out from behind the bushes and rob the fucking train."

Kikyo sighed again. It was going to be a long night, especially if Josephine kept teasing Ellis. She was almost afraid to look at the corpse girl as the waiters disappeared, see her expression, as Josephine rambled on, shitfaced already.

"FUCK YEAH! That was the day. Back in the days of the Wild fucking West, when your country was shooting people left and right. The infamous Cow Gang robbing trains, hiding from the Marshal... getting... I dunno... buttfucked by cattle and branding them for their own... shit? The Cowboys of the Wild Fucking West! Yeah... WAITER! Another crimson gin rose fucking tonic vodka fucking whatever! I'm proposing a toast to the Cowboys of the Wild Fucking West!"

It's all going downhill, Kikyo thought nervously. It's all going straight downhill. Josephine is plastered, and Ellis is... she glanced over at the corpse girl on her other side... laughing? It wasn't much of a laugh, sounding more like a death rattle, but that grin on her face...

Maybe it's not gonna be such a bad night after all.

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Hearshot Kid Disaster: Part Four

Much to Kikyo's pleasant surprise, dinner went without much incident. After convincing a drunken Josephine to calm down a bit, the classy dinner at the Pao-Pao Cafe went rather calmly, although Ellis hadn't said a word throughout the night. Much like the dinner she had with Kikyo and her father recently, Ellis felt like a third wheel in the conversation. So she simply concentrated on the comforting Second Stage at her left and let Kikyo and Josephine continue their conversation.

Josephine had garnered the ire of the waiters after sending back her specially made miso soup back several times, so even the hardcore WCF fans working there were glad when the chocolate cake, ending the meal, was being prepared for the three.

"Damn...", blurted out Jojo, slurping down the rest of her soup. "After all that, I gotta use the bathroom. Kikyo, you see any hot guys coming in, you fucking flag them down, alright? Ellis, don't... fucking kill anyone while I'm gone."

Josephine stood up, making her leave as tiny Kikyo turned her attention to the corpse girl. "She's just kidding around, really. She's not trying to..."

Ellis held up one hand, still fiddling with what was left of her salad. "I understand. I can tell the difference between when someone is being mean, and just joking around. Lest I'd feel the same reactions as once before, when such circumstances came up, I'd be insulted by her. Mere annoyance is a step up, isn't it?"

"Ellis... I don't wanna sound like I'm being mean or anything, but you're... kinda changing."

"How so?"

"It's... the way you're talking. I mean, I can still understand you, but it's kinda more like Shakespeare."

"I'll try to stop."

"No, no, don't worry! I'm just wondering if..."

Conversation was severed as the corpse girl and the prodigy shifted their gaze over to the person sitting in Josephine's chair... a person that certainly wasn't Josephine. This was a young Asian man, early 20's, whose jeans and T-shirt violated the restaurant's strict dress code even moreso than Jojo's cherry-red business suit. The interloper scratched the grey tuft of hair atop his head and adjusted his coke-bottle thick glasses, looking at the two.

"No, no. Don't stop on my account."

Ellis' hand went right for her scythe as Kikyo attempted to regain control of the conversation. "Um... can we help you sir?"

"Hmm... question is, can I help you? Tell me, Miss Island... what do you want out of life?"

Ellis' cold, dead gaze held as firm as her grip on her dearest Second Stage. "I want a family that won't batter and abuse me... a God that refuses to let little girls be slaughtered... sweet, sweet blood for my dearest Second Stage... and for you to leave, and stop disparaging what henceforth had been a good time. If alone, a choice cannot be made, I'm sure my dearest blade can carve an answer into your flesh."

The young man didn't seem too deterred, but a couple of drops of perspiration were noticeable "Well... um, Miss Island... I just came to offer a... business proposition."

Ellis stood up, nearly overturning her salad as Kikyo frowned. So much for this not being such a bad day. "From which hellhole came you? Have you aligned yourself with the bastard clown whose gaze Longcindia incinerated? Tell him his foolishness will lead him down the long, dark path to the grave. Those ever-toiling businessmen at the WCF keeping more interest in what once was than what shall be? Tell them such mentality led to the closing of their gates so many times before. These precious moments, the brief glimpses into normalcy, are all I have these days. And for you to come here with such airs..."

The corpse's tirade was rudely cut off by Josephine, carrying a handful of the tiny perfumes often sampled, but rarely given away, in the restrooms of such classy establishments as she slid them in her pocket slacks, freeing her hands to wrap around the man's throat.

"You fucking son of a bitch, the fuck reason you have coming all the way over here?"

"You know this guy?", chirped up Kikyo, "He just came in and started talking business."

"Hells yes, I know this guy. His name's Musashi Tadakichi", she stated, shoving him aside. "He owns Hokkaido Pro, this Japanese wrestling federation that's been trying to hire me since I left Japan a year ago. And he doesn't seem to get the fact that I'm not fucking interested."

"You'll have to excuse Miss Miyazaki", the man, Mr. Tadakichi, replied. "She can't seem to get past the fact that I'm FUCKING HER SISTER."

Someone might as well have signed a hardcore match and rung a bell, because Josephine was in the zone. Tossing aside her suit's blazer, revealing a black button-up shirt that did little to hide the shape of her giant bust, and rolling up her sleeves to show off her impressive arms, Josephine reached behind her at the table for the first thing she could grab that could do some damage... just happening to stumble upon a fork meant to carve into the delicious chocolate cake nobody was eating. Before she could do her impression of New Jack across Tadakichi's forehead, the young man reached behind him for a good weapon, merely to defend himself... a pepper grinder right out of the hands of an awaiting waiter. But either Tadakichi's glasses weren't on straight, or Josephine was agile for her size, as from point blank range, the hurled pepper grinder missed, sailing right over her broad shoulder...

... and nailing tiny Kikyo right on the head.

The tiny prodigy dropped to the ground like a tiny pile of bricks, the pepper grinder spilling it's guts beside her. Temporarily forgetting Mr. Tadakichi's presence, Josephine made her way to her former manager, checking in the injury as Tadakichi, seeing the police entering the front door, nearly trampled an elderly couple to make it to the rear exit.

Ellis was nowhere to be found...

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Hearshot Kid Disaster: Chapter Five

By all accounts, it was Josephine who started the potential brawl in the Pao-Pao cafe, wrapping those powerful hands around the young man's throat. So if anybody were going to be able to press charges, it would be Tadakichi. But the young businessman was more interested in preserving his life.

Tadakichi wasn't stupid. Although Ellis wasn't part of his grand scheme to rehire Josephine Miyazaki, and in the end, fuck her and her sister both at once, he knew that the two would be working closely together for the next two weeks. So a little research was in order. And he knew that anybody that harmed Kikyo was going right to the top of her shit list. Ace attacked Kikyo, and something so terrifying happened to him that he couldn't even talk about it. Jack repeatedly threatened Kikyo's well being, and ended up being on the receiving end of a few gruesome attacks. And now Tadakichi had hurled a heavy pepper grinder right at the girl's head. He wasn't going to stick around to check on her well being.

And so it was, that as the police questioned the patrons in the restaurant, Tadakichi made his way down the long, dark alleyway behind the cafe. Long... but not long enough to escape the reach of the dead...

---

This was an international incident, concerning a couple of Japanese citizens in an already turbulent situation. The police, knowing this, had to be careful not to bring the embassy around, knowing even a small incident like this could inflame international relations against an already much-maligned United States. So the decision to keep this under wraps was unanimous.

According to reports, the only reason that Jojo would have anything to worry about is if Tadakichi were to press charges. Jojo apparently wasn't nearly as plastered as Kikyo first thought, thanks to a breathalyzer test demanded in return for criminal charges being discarded for the woman who was still technically a Japanese citizen, almost a national treasure to her home country. A test that showed the sex goddess was sober enough to drive home after this was all over. The restaurant watered it's drinks down rather severely, apparently. Jojo, in checking on Kikyo, explained that it was an effort to help ease relations she knew were tense.

"Yeah... I figured if I lightened up, maybe she would too", explained the she-hulk as she knelt down beside the tiny prodigy. "Seriously, for all the shit I talk, she is a good person. You alright?"

Kikyo nodded, rubbing a small abrasion on her forehead. "Yeah. I just got a big bump on my head. You gonna be alright?"

"Long as that shithead Tadakichi doesn't press charges. Worst thing about it is, when that asshole ran off, he fucked up our fucking chocolate cake."

A lump materialized in Kikyo's throat, looking around at the crowd. Her eyes scanned across several times, before finally focusing back on Josephine.

"Where's Ellis?"

A question that, when unanswered, could lead to homicide, hung heavy in the air as Kikyo and Josephine, two cops in tow, followed the directions the trampled old couple gave and made their way out the back door, into the alleyway, hunting desperately for the two figures enveloped by the night...
---

Tadakichi's spry legs had taken him all the way to the docks far behind the Pao-Pao cafe, the seemingly endless ocean sprawling in front of him as he sat alone on the pier, desperately trying to catch his breath as he cursed his cellular phone for not being able to get reception in this area. While the city the WCF was situated in wasn't well known for it's coastline or oversees trade, the docks sat there nonetheless, sprawling over the coastline as Tadakichi forced himself to catch his breath. The young man looked around several times, trying to convince himself that nobody was around. That he had gotten away scot free, and could buy off whomever he needed to in order to get back to Japan. That he would live to see another day. That one day Josephine would be his.

But the wrath of the dead is not easily so shaken, and the strong scent of the sea was punctuated by the stench of death, forcing Tadakichi to turn around and stand back up at the presence he couldn't see, but felt deep in his rapidly-beating chest. And there, almost in the blink of an eye, emerged the living corpse girl, scythe in hand.

Ellis' deathly rasp was barely audible above the blowing breeze permeating the docks, but every word cut Tadakichi deep to the core. "You dare harm her..."

"I swear, I swear, Miss Island, it was an accident, it was just an accident, please don't..."

Tadakichi's words were cut off as swiftly as the front of his shirt as Ellis' scythe found it's mark, a violent slash across the man's chest emerging and dripping blood in time with the blood dripping from her scythe. Tadakichi was forced to the ground, gripping his bleeding chest, his neck exposed in the perfect position for an executioner to deliver her sentence from the grave. The blade was raised again, glinting in the moonlight...

"ELLIS!"

The only thing that could have stopped the corpse girl from her path of bloody destruction, the voice of her tiny angel, cut through her consciousness as she looked behind her, scythe still in hand. Kikyo ran onto the dock, Josephine staying behind with the police at the foot of the pier, overlooking the gruesome scene as night made it's full fall. Ellis' once beautiful dress, now stained with blood. Tadakichi looking up at the dead girl in terror. Kikyo clinging tightly to Ellis' side, her comforting touch a stark contrast to Ellis' ice-cold flesh.

"I'm alright, Ellis. I just got a bruise, that's all. Please. Stop it. I don't want anyone else getting hurt. Please."

The young reaper held her stance tightly, staring down at the man who had finally passed out from blood loss. She calmly placed her scythe on the dock, and wrapped her arms around Kikyo.

"I'm glad you're alright..."

The waves of the ocean lapped silently against the docks...
---

Josephine, convincing the police that she saw Tadakichi draw a gun and toss it in the ocean before passing out, had successfully used her celebrity status to not only get herself, but her tag partner off the hook. Although she didn't admit it, and wouldn't in a thousand years, Josephine saw nothing but potential in the corpse girl. Potential to overlap the legacy even she had forged after a decade of destruction over 6 continents. At the end of the night, all the three woman had gotten was a slap on the wrist and a permanent ban from ever entering the Pao-Pao cafe again.

Damn, I'm good, Josephine thought as she floored her cherry-red Ferrari. This is gonna make one hell of a story for my website.

---

After complaining to the cafe that they'd never gotten to finish their cake, in an effort to expel the three from the sterling reputation of a restaurant built originally on bootlegging money, the staff of the Pao-Pao Cafe sent Kikyo home with an entire chocolate cake. The long evening turning into blessed night, Ellis and Kikyo had made their way back to Apartment 26 of Yagami Apartments, Ellis' personal sanctuary, and carved the cake as soon as Ellis slipped back into more comfortable clothing. Kikyo still had a couple drops of Tadakichi's blood on her shimmering sun dress after hugging Ellis tightly, but tried to ignore them as the two ate their cake in silence.

Kikyo was safe, and Ellis was off the hook.

Nothing more needed to be said that night.  

/////////////////////

(Director's note: this scene takes the place the night after Slam, and a week before the events in Hearshot Kid Disaster)

---

(A tall glass of orange juice accompanied by shades of burnt toast made its way up the stairs of Jack's opulent housing. Being commanded by his hispanic housekeeper to 'keep his powder dry' was something that Jack was having difficulty with. Jack of Blades, sitting there with his face enveloped in wraps of bandage, had not hired her. The company had taken the liberty of doing it for him. Despite his protest, here she was forcing him to eat buttered toast and get some vitamin C. It had been a disparaging week for Blades. At its opening, he had a white-collar infidel invade his house. Soon after, he had been commanded not to persist with his match against Kikyo under the threat of litigation. And even though, his match at Slam had ended with him perpetually smelling burnt flesh, the real kicker had been the fact that his attempts to kill his housekeeper had failed. Greasing the stairs only caused her to request that the Television champion massage her portly legs. Replacing the lighter fluid with gasoline had only resulted in a barbecue. And now she was forcefeeding him a hearty breakfast. As she laid the cutlery out, she asked him what he was doing. Blades removed himself from his telescope to ask if she had ever 'seen Rear Window?' The answer was negatory and Blades begun to choke down his meal until interrupted by a vibrating receiver and a tone perforating the humming of a Spanish wifetale by his employee.)

Jack of Blades: - Hello Dominoes, thirty minutes or your cheese-and-bread combo is cold.

(the camera cuts briefly to what seems like the interior of a crane game, and the two figures leaning against the glass. Kikyo's wide-eyes smile is concentrating on the crane as her tiny hands work the controls, a look of slight frustration whenever the shimmering claw comes up empty, but still plugging away quarter after quarter. The other figure is facing away, but from the new leather jacket... the Hitman insignia replaced with the symbol of a scythe and the letter "E" mocking the Russian flag... it's just a preliminary design, they can change it, she remembered being told when she saw it... but from the visible scarred skin and shimmering grey hair, it's obvious who it is.

Ellis: (singing) What is this that you keep selling me, boy?... I'm not gonna hold your hand here when you walk… You'll burn in hell while they're digging you out... (speaking) do the burns of Loncindia's incineration across your gaze keep that steadfast hold to the bandages marring that hideous face, my dearest Jack?

(Kikyo's expression falls a bit realizing who Ellis was calling, but she kept her gaze intent on the crane.)

Jack of Blades: Ich spreche nein Englisch.

Ellis: Good. Play dumb, Jack. It seems to be the trade that suits your altered gaze. Much as a wretched mongrel keeps going to the table for scraps after the newspaper crosses it's face, I tried to rectify the one thing I told you was off-limits. I spoke it myself with the taste of my blood. Second Stage chimed in with the unkindliest cut. Has Longcindia's incineration changed your behavior, or must things escalate further?

(At this, the fumbling of hands can be heard on Jack's end of the reciever. It stops only for the silence to be dispelled by the epic screech of a recorder falling from note to note and piercing his interlocuter's receiver. After it falls in pitch, it is soon joined by the trademark manic laugh. Ellis is forced to remove the phone from her ear for just a second as the notes barely permeate the loud sounds of wherever this crane game is located. A black kitty cat makes it halfway across the screen, before fumbling out of the claw's grip, much to Kikyo's dismay.)

Ellis: Well, it'd appear that my singing voice beats yours hands-down, Jack. And as of last night's events, my face seems in far better shape than yours as well.

(Kikyo sighs at the conversation going on beside her... this mean streak in Ellis' tone ever since her pinfall victory over Jack was a little disturbing, but it was better than depression)

Jack of Blades: Trust me, doll. My skin may flake and my scabs may water but I still look better than some self-harming anorexic who breaths fire. So it that why you've rang me? To taunt me while I'm down...?

(He begins to sob but it's obviously quite fake until he breaks into laughter.)

Ellis: Seemed like the kind of thing you'd do.

Jack of Blades: Ha. I'm so proud. You're picking up a few of my traits, I see. And you've even developed a sense of humour. But unfortunately and this does answer your previous question, no I'm not done with you yet.

Ellis: Well then... it would seem you're more of an idiot than I thought. What kind of things would it take for me to convince you that toying with the dead is a bad idea? There are forces at hand that you, of all people, couldn't understand... and in the killing end, dearest Jack, when that last gasp comes from your wretched frame and you end up becoming part of the world I guard over... just remember. It was you who slit the first incision into this final cut.

Jack of Blades: Ah, you can talk about the killing end all you want and how I've irrevocably involved myself in things that I shouldn't have but what you should really concern yourself with is the killing joke. You see, despite my burnt facial features, you're just dancing for the puppet master...

(Jack's tirade is broken up by the questioning of whether he would like eggs in a latino voice. The response? "No, I don't want any bloody eggs." A gesture of physical violence is heard and combined with an angered latino voice remonstrating him for talking in such a manner to his elders.)

Ellis:... and in spite of the repeated warnings and the chiming in of Longcindia and my dearest Second Stage, you seem not to get the point. I've marred you. I've scarred you. If you want to go insofar as to talk about this business I don't think either of us really cares about, I've pinned you. I've proved you no better to the realm of the dead, Jack. I see no more threat from you. The only problems marring my gaze now is this... how did Kikyo put it?... "good old boy network" we both seem to be having problems with. You with the Dreadknocks, and me with Nytro and Torture... and assuredly Creeping Death, as those three are aligned. Once I get through Timebomb, and carve my blade through Hughes and the figures not worthy to make the killing end... maybe I'll play with you a bit more.

(Finally, after a good 5 bucks, the little black kitty makes it's way to the end of the crane and drops in the prize slot, which Kikyo retrieves and shows to Ellis with glee, before realizing that Ellis is trapped in her own little world again.)

Jack of Blades:...Oh Ellis, my dear. You should have realised that I've found a new puppet now.

(At this, his end of the conversation is finalised with the dull tone of a receiver being hooked. A frustrated sigh comes from the living dead girl as she finally takes notice of the toy cat Kikyo had won. Ellis nods, then looks slightly confused as Kikyo asks for the phone. She hands it to the Japanese prodigy as the camera cuts back to Jack, and the phone rings again)

Jack of Blades: It better not be that asthmatic pervert again. I swear to Aishi, if it is just heavy breathing I'm gonna pant back.

(He reluctantly answered.)

Jack of Blades: Je ouevre le Anglais chien.

(A strange rattling sound of some sort comes across the phone. After a few seconds, the camera cuts back to the crane game, and shows it's little Kikyo giving Jack a raspberry long distance. The raspberry goes on for a good 30 second, the camera cutting back and forth between Jack and Ellis before hanging up.)

Ellis: Have you gotten that out of your system?

Kikyo: Yesh.

Ellis: Good, let's go get lunch.

(And the two make their leave, walking offscreen of Blades drops the receiver to the hook somewhat stunned at the incredulous response of Kikyo. Not that the camera can tell with his face completely covered in bandages with two invisible tunnels allowing for vision. He swivels on his office chair and returns to his telescope to watch Ms. Thompson undress from her yoga class and be completely oblivious to Mr. Bains, the bankrupt accountant, murdering his wife with a spanner to redeem her insurance which is happening two doors down)