In a shadowed ampitheater, one man sits silently watching a large
screen television.. Though the theater could hold more then 25, he is
the only presence in the room. He smiles sardonically, as the
program's disclaimer rolled onto the screen. "Due to the graphical
nature of this program, viewer discretion is highly advised. The show
has been running with that disclaimer for seven years nw. And each
week, each EVENT, they still got calls that they were ambushing the
youth of Japan with gory violence (he wondered, idly, if there was any
other kind of violence in television.), He sat back, and let the
images flickering on the screen absorb him as the announcer started
his voice over.. "Last time.. on "THE CONTENDERS"... Series 14 came to
a gripping finale as Ranma Saotome and Sanrou Katsunan faced off in a
duel to the death inside an abandoned warehouse.." 

Some dramatic, martial music started playing softly underneath the
announcer's voice, a rumble that seemed to designed to inflame the
mind, a remnant of time when one's honor was all, and one's honor was
reflected in the two swords that only samurai were allowed to carry.
The man allowed himself to get swept along with the music as the brief
shots of video provided a counterpoint to the music. The images of a
sweating salaryman, his once pristine white shirt stained with blood
from a previous battle, gripping a pistol in his hand as a drowning
man would clutch at a life preserver.

As the screen changed, the man nodded approvingly. Gone was the
salaryman, banished offscreen. In his place was a slightly built young
man, dressed in a chinese shirt, with his hair tied in a pigtail
behind him. There was no fear.. there was no regrets. Here was a man
who'd willingly throw himself at death time and time again, and dare
death to claim him. He lingered over the eyes.. eyes that once
sparkled mischeviously, or sparkled with life. Instead, burdened by
too many lives taken, the eyes were just colored specks. A mirrored
reflection that no opponent could ever read anything from. 

His approbation was cut short, as the screen blanked, and the
unwelcome, no, loathsome announcer continued his voiceover. "A duel
that only seemed to have one conclusion when the apparently suicidal
Saotome refused to take a gun into the warehouse with him.." Another
masterful cut of video footage, as it showed the salaryman's shaking
hands try twice to open the warehouse door before finally slipping
inside. When it shifted to the pigtailed boy finish up some kind of
martial kata, then calmly walk to the door, turn around, regard the
following camera with what seemed to be a slight sneer, and then
purposely, with a well re-hearsed grace, quickly strip the pistol of
it's magazine, and kneeling in the collected dust, leaving both at the
door behind him as he quickly slides inside. The camera focuses,
lingering on the pistol and the magazine  for a few seconds.

The man's breath caught slightly, even as he the outcome already. Such
daring.. such.. spirit.. bordering on arrogance. The cameraman finally
slips inside, breaking the spell that had been put on this unknown
watcher. The camera slips inside, following every movement the two
make, until finally, they enter a shipping area at roughly the same
time. The salaryman gasps upon seeing his foe.. while his opponent
seemed to not even notice his opponent, his killer, his target across
the lighted room. "But Ranma Saotome was not ready to die just yet. He
led Katsunan a chase up the warehouse... to the third floor of the
building.. waiting like a cobra..." 

The cameraman is shown racing to try to keep up with the two, as the
salaryman, screaming obscenities and imprecations, fires shots again
and again at the dodging martial artist, without even coming close.
Cameras mounted in the stairwell catch Ranma taking the steps two and
three at a time, while the salaryman huffs and puffs his way up the
stairs. Finally, the shot is clear. We see the salary man looking down
a set of poorly lit aisleways, with only the light from the window
lighting the room. We see him freeze at one of the lanes, looking off
camera as if in disbelief and bring up his gun. He has time to fire
twice before his gun clicks on an empty chamber, and he only has time
to scream once, as we see a flying kick from Ranma send the salaryman
through the window, and the scream chokes off suddenly as the
salaryman's tortured existence comes to an end as he hits the
pavement. The camera lingers on the body for only a second, as an
expressionless Ranma looks down, before turning back inside.

"Ranma Saotome has done it again. He is the champion contender for the
2nd straight series. And with just one more series between him and
freedom, all that stands in his way are five lives. Real People.. in
Real Danger.. With the only prize worth fighting for. Their lives.
This is.. the Contenders!"

The shows logo snapped onto the screen, before cutting out to a blank
picture. As the lights came up, the man was seemingly lost in thought,
as several others joined him. The man, greying at the temples, seemed
to be lost in thought, but snapped a question to one of his
underlings. "So.. the focus groups say it's not good TV?" The nervous
flunky gripped a clipboard, not unlike the salaryman on the screen and
his gun. "Er.. they say there's no conflict. It's too easy. Why become
attatched to somebody.. you know that the Angel of Death is coming for
them.. 1 by 1. Katsunan's kill of Mariko Koto was the only non-Saotome
kill in the two series he's been on!"

The man seemed to still be lost in thought, ignoring Ranma's nickname,
and started wondering aloud. "But the ratings were good.." he
whispered, wondering how anyone could NOT watch this. This was
everything the masses ever wanted.. ever dreamt for. A hero.. no an
ANTI-HERO.. a cool calm presence. The boy.. no.. the executive
corrected himself, anyone that polished, that much of a killer.. was
no boy.. the MAN.. practically exuded the spirit of Japan.

The flunky gasped, knowing that he was unlucky enough to have to tell
his boss the bad news.. "The formulas say that if we let this go for
another season, we could lose 25% of our ratings. Maybe more." The
flunky's sweat stained face grew white as a sheet, in counterpoint,
the man smiled as an idea came to him.. "So.. they say there's no
conflict.. no..compelling storylines. Well.. if that's what they
want.. let's give it to them."

"Sir?" This was from one of the other flunkies, as the first one
seemed to be counting his blessings that he hadn't been fired already.
"I don't think I understand.."

"Of course you don't" the executive snapped, rubbing his temples.
Didn't they understand? "This season.. we tie Ranma's chance for
freedom in with a familiar location. Series 15 will be shot in Nerima.
And we have to make sure that some of Ranma's old friends are
involved.."

The first flunky finally broke through his reluctance to speak, "Sir..
the selection process is completely random! Even by limiting it to
Nerima.. we have no guarantee.."

The executive shot to his feet, scattering his underlings in shock and
fright as he advanced steadily on the hapless flunky, the other
flunkies scattering away, knowing one of their own had been marked.
"You forget your place, Masaki! Remember.. the average person BELIEVES
what we say. If we say it's random, then it IS Random! You know the
computer that does the random selections? Well.. if you TOLD the
computer what name to spit out.. wouldn't it? We OWN the accounting
company used to certify the results. It's high time they proved
useful!"

He was face to face with the round-faced flunky, nearly shouting, each
word like a verbal slap in the face. "Y-y-y-yesss sir! I'm sorry!" The
unlucky underling finally stuttered out, on verge of collapse. 

The executive considered making an example of him and firing him right
here and there as a lesson to be more flexible to the others.. but
then he reconsidered. There is nothing like a dedicated man to run the
project. "Masaki.. consult with the Technology people. I want them to
come up with 2 or 3 names from Ranma's past in Nerima to come up on
the "random" draw. I want worthy opponents!"

Masaki nodded, R-r-right away SIR! And weaklegged, he staggered out of
the room, quickly followed by the other flunkies. The man smiled,
looking at the screen, the shot of Ranma's face after killing his last
opponent still high in his mind. Earn your freedom, Ranma Saotome, he
thought to himself. Show the rest of Japan that here was a warrior
worthy of being called samurai. Nothing.. frienddship, love, money,
was important, compared to one thing.

Duty.

Do your duty, Ranma Saotome. Remind us all of what we once were.. and
could be again. He laughed long and low in his throat.

(Note: This is based off a movie called Series 7: The Contenders, a
dark comedy/action movie based off the reality show obsession. The
rules are simple. Random lottery, where you have to play. Five random
people and  the returning champion from the last season  play. They're
all given guns and freedom to do whatever they want to each other.
Last man surviving wins. Win three times, you're free.)

(Author's Note: Please provide C&C on this.. what do you think?)
There is No Lumber Cartel..And I am NOT Member #01538

(L5R2.1)UN:+ S- G+ Y+ D- O+ EJ+ I+++ Sc(32) C E++ !M T D++ K++ H-- Tk IC++ U+

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