"aaron shattuck" Aaron Shattuck presents... VIOLINIST OF HAMELIN TRIPLE FEATURE! Written by Aaron Shattuck Edited by Chippy the Transvestite Gnome All the characters and stuff (except for the ones I made up, which is quite a lot, actually, now that I think about it) are property of Watanabe Michiaki and Pony Cannon. No permission was given for me to write this. Be creative! Add in your own witty/confusing comment here! Feature 1: GUITAR LIVES!... For a little while, anyway. Guitar felt his body humming with pure elation. Never before had he experienced such overwhelming power. He was, to put it bluntly, a god. He was everywhere. A multitude of furry hydra-heads sprang forth from him, moving with an unstoppable force. A gift from his _dear_ friend, Drum. He could feel that disgusting little nuisance, Oboe, dying a distance away. He could feel the insides of the once proud Hawk King impaled on HIM. HE was a distance away! HE was EVERYWHERE. The terror of all those around him, even his own troops, filled him with pleasure. None could surpass him. Not Bass or Hamelin or even that overrated Kestler. Mazoku's number one... Guitar! Then he heard the laughing. That familiar voice... It wasn't the deep baritone itself that made his heart turn ice, it was that he could tell... it was coming from HIM... and it wasn't HIS voice. Hesitatingly, Guitar looked up and what he saw was the worst possible thing he could have ever imagined. In the air with all the other heads, was Drum. Drum was attached to HIM. Drum _was_ HIM. This was... not what he had expected. Drum said something, but he wasn't listening. He saw the Dragon King, the Dragon King he was positive that he had killed, morph into a single, terrifying, head. Mouth held agape, Guitar could tell, in a detached way, that Drum was flying towards him. That in a mere second, he would be no more. All his plans would be for naught, defeated by that imbecile. But Guitar's conscious wasn't really there anymore. It was flying, to some safer place, far away. He didn't even feel it, when the impact hit... The woods were pleasant enough, as woods go. Very... green and brown... lots of trees and such. The woods bordered a river bank, which was also pleasant enough, with grass and butterflies and mud and other things that riverbanks have, amongst which was a river to bank. One thing that river banks didn't normally have, however, was what looked like some sort of anthropomorphic dog-thing, with another dog attached to it's waste instead of legs, wearing Spartan gear. This was definitely a very unorthodox addition to the river bank, but the butterflies didn't seem to mind. The dog-thing groaned and opened it's eyes a crack. "Splish splash!" it heard. That's funny, thought Guitar. Normally, "Splish splash!" wasn't the sort of sound you got from a very large Dragon King ramming into you at top speed. Normally, that sort of thing made more of a "Boom!" sound, with maybe a bit of a sickening crunch mixed in as well. Definitely not, "Splish splash!" Beside the confused Beast King, the river burbled happily. The blood might go, "Splish splash!" Guitar reminded himself. He was a bit of an expert on blood, and he knew that if there was enough of it... But on closer inspection, blood never really "burbled happily." Not even very happy people's blood. Overwhelmed by curiosity, Guitar forced his eyes completely open and got up. He was, he suddenly noticed, very much alive and not obliterated one bit. This was an unusual, but not unpleasant situation, under the circumstances. He also noticed, that while he was no longer a god of sorts, he no longer had a very angry Drum attached to him, either. So it seemed that he had come out even. Surveying the landscape, Guitar decided that staying on the river bank wouldn't do at all. It had way too many butterflies, for one thing. The woods, while certainly not foreboding, had a chance of providing a better atmosphere on the whole, he thought. And so he decided to enter them. The Mazoku lord walked aimlessly through the foliage, lost in thought. It was apparent, that his lifestyle had underwent a rather immediate change, from "doomed" to "taking a stroll through the woods." He was not at all sure how to handle this situation, as it didn't seem to involve killing anybody or toadying up to anybody, while planning to kill them much later, when their back was turned. And so he really didn't get anywhere at all, until a few minutes later, he heard the snapping of twigs. Something was approaching him, and the fact that it could approach him, meant that it was alive. Living things could be killed, he was on familiar ground now! Carefully concealing himself behind a large oak tree, he saw two figures step into view. They were obviously human children, of the male variety, he noted. But their dress was quite peculiar. It seemed to be a uniform of sorts, blue, with a yellow handkerchief tied around their necks. On their chest, they wore a variety of badges, the largest of which depicted a wolf's head and on their arms was sewn a patch with number "37" on it. Their cheeks were exceedingly rosy and leaves were pouring out of their pockets. "Gee-golly, Timmy," exclaimed the one on the left to his companion, "Do y' think we've found enough leaves for our 'Leaf Finder's badge?" "Well, gosh, Nigel, I think so." Suddenly, the two felt a shadow fall upon them. From behind, a voice hissed, "Well, well, what do we have here?" Timmy and Nigel turned around to discover the strangest creature they had ever seen. "Gee whilikers," wondered Nigel, "What's that?" "That's not important, little boy," growled Guitar. "The real question here, who are you?" "We're Boy Scouts, Troop 37!" declared Timmy, proudly. "We're much cooler than that lame Troop 24, 'cause our Scout Master's the best!" "Yeah!" agreed Nigel. "Scout Master Willem's cool! He even blindfolded us and dropped us off in the middle of nowhere, so we could find our way back and earn our 'Navigator's badges!" Nigle waved his compass to punctuate the statement. Guitar blinked in surprise. This wasn't the normal response he got from small human children. "Say, Timmy," wondered Nigel, nudging his fellow scout, "What do you think he is?" "I dunno," replied Timmy, honestly. "He's furry and he talks... Maybe he's Smokey's friend!" "Smokey?" asked Guitar, thoroughly confused. "Yeah! Smokey the Bear! He teaches us about how only we can prevent forest fires and stuff! He's Scout Master Willem's friend!" Explained Nigel enthusiastically. "Scout Master Willem knows him, 'cause he's got connections and stuff!" "Are you Smokey's friend, too?" asked Timmy. Guitar's face shifted from surprise, to a sly smile. "Why, yes I am," he said sweetly. "I'm Smokey's special helper. Why don't you take me to your friends?" "Oh, boy!" shouted Timmy. "D'ya think there's a 'Finding Smokey's Special Helper' merit badge? Huh, do ya, Nigel?" "Scout Master Willem'll know if there is," confirmed Nigel. "Scout Master Willem knows everything." Traveling with the two Scouts, Guitar had discovered that they seemed to have an inexhaustible of supply of praise for their "Scout Master." It didn't take him long to deduce what they were really about. The uniforms, and the descriptions of their rigorous "Camping Trips" and "Activities" made their situation obvious to him. Guitar chuckled to himself, military training at such a young age, this "Scout Master Willem" truly must be something. It was obvious that wherever he was, it wasn't the home he knew. Even the most backwater hick town had been forced to learn of the Mazoku, and these children obviously didn't. He would have to adapt to the environment, and perhaps drinking this "Scout Master"s blood would prove quite useful for that task. If he were as powerful as the two foolish runts claimed... The only problem, he figured, was what to do with this pint size militia, afterwards. Should he kill them or could they be of use to him? His train of thought was abruptly interrupted, by Timmy's shout of glee. "Yippee! We made it! We'll get those merit badges for sure now!" The area was spotted all over with tents, all uniformly small, save for one big one. The tents circled a clearing, the center of which had a camping fire roaring in the middle of it. Out of the tents rushed other small boys, dressed the same as Nigel and Timmy and out of the largest one walked the Scout Master. The Scout Master was a slightly pudgy, middle aged man. His eyes were bright, his cheeks had dimples and his upper lip sported a small mustache. His uniform had more badges then any of the boys and one of them proudly declared "SCOUT MASTER" on it. "Glad to see you made it, boys," chimed Scout Master Willem, pleasantly. "You're just in time for the weenie roast!" Guitar eyed the jovial man warily. Could this be the fearsome leader that had been described to him? "Scout Master Willem!" shouted Nigel. "We found Smokey's Special Assistant! Is there a 'Finding Smokey's Special Assistant' merit badge?!" "Hmm," pondered the Scout Master, inspecting Guitar. "I don't think so, really." "Aw," pouted the two boys. "Don't worry, boys! Because you didn't die, you two are up for a very special 'Navigator's merit badge! And if I don't miss my guess, you've been working on that 'Leaf Finder's merit badge!" This seemed to lift the two boys' spirits and they shouted with joy, running towards the direction of the camp fire. "So, you're Smokey's Special Assistant?" the Scout Master asked Guitar. "Errr... Yeah," confirmed Guitar. His mind raced at a mile a minute. Did this "Scout Master" see through him? If so, could he be a threat to him? The risk was substantially high. "Well, I hope you like weenies!" laughed Scout Master Willem, his pot belly jiggling in delight. Guitar stared in amazement at the objects speared on the sticks, that the Scouts held over the fire. They appeared to be... some kind of meat... wrapped in intestines! Such a subtle nastiness, Guitar thought, his eyes moving to rest on the Scout Master. Such nastiness would spring from great power... "Hey, let's sing a song!" suggested Scout Master Willem, who was greeted with several enthusiastic cheers. Guitar ignored the song, which seemed to be about a bear eliminating all of his friends so he could have more sleeping room (a notion Guitar could sympathize with) and stealthily moved towards the Scout Master's back. He had decided that he would claim this man's power, and continue these human's training. Soon, he would lead the most dangerous fighting force that this world, whatever it was, had ever known. Carefully... carefully... The man's bulbous back was now towards him. Just one, quick... Slash! Guitar's sword slid, with practiced ease, through the man's neck. His head slowly slid off and fell into the fire, roasting with all the weenies. The Scouts didn't move. Guitar grinned maliciously. No matter how powerful someone was, they always forgot to guard their back properly. He slowly licked the blood from his sword, feeling the molecules bound with his own. Yes! This man's power was now his! Suddenly... Suddenly all the stupid little human children looked extremely attractive. Guitar shook his head. This... this was definitely _not_ right! There were certain levels that even a Mazoku should _never_ sink to, and this was definitely one of them. No matter what, he had to make sure that he wouldn't take off their uniforms and... Guitar sighed, it was obvious that he was going to have to kill the lot of them. The former Beast King of the Mazoku groaned and rubbed his aching back. Just his luck, that the minute he had decided to kill them, the Cub Scouts had snapped out of their shock and ran screaming. It had taken _forever_ to track down them all, and he had to fight off _other_ urges the entire time, as well. Exhausted was definitely the word to describe him at that moment. Guitar wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, making sure that none of it got anywhere near his mouth. No telling _what_ would happen if he drank _that_ stuff. Sighing deeply, Guitar realized it would be wisest to leave the seen of the crime. Slowly, painfully, he began to walk. As he walked, Guitar felt his spirits begin to rise. If that was what constituted as a fearsome lord in this world, then he shouldn't have any trouble taking it over, he thought. Yes! There would be screaming and blood and fire and s'mores...! No! Not s'mores! Well, maybe some sort of blood s'mores... And... and gutting and killing and little boys in tight... No! Just killing! Suddenly, Guitar heard a sound very much like "Blam!" and his train of thought ended abruptly. "Say, Ewalt, whut's this here thang, 'xactly?" asked a very grungy man as he prodded the furry corpse with his foot. "Aye dunno, Vern," admitted another grungy man, carrying a smoking shot gun. "At first aye thought is wuz a dear. But now et looks layk some sorta... double-dog thang..." "Whay don' we take et home an' stuff it, anyway? Aye betcha th' 'Waykly World News'd come on bay t'say et!" The End. Feature Two: BASS STRIKES BACK!... Not really. Hell King Bass was not one to be caught without a plan. The possibility of Prince Lute waking up and escaping his possession, while far fetched, was not lost on him. So when the unbelievable happened, not due to the prince's willpower, but merely because he was knocked out, Bass had a back-up plan to fall onto. It would mean the complete destruction of his Skeleton Army, but that was preferable, over the complete destruction of himself. Summoning his remaining power quickly, Bass transported himself to subspace, leaving a carbon copy of his head to crumble to dust. The fools would think him dead, while he would secretly plot in the shadows, gathering strength until the fateful day of revenge! The overlord of the Mazoku chuckled to himself, even in defeat, he could taste victory at the tip of his tongue. Scanning quickly, he found a hole in the absolute nothingness of subspace and flew through it. It was a tricky gambit, where he would appear would be completely random and he'd have to find a host body _fast_. A hole of complete nothingness appeared in the night sky and out of it flew a head, blue with death. Hell King Bass quickly looked around and moved to fall towards the only person available to him. Slide Whistle the baby, could tell that something was wrong. His undeveloped brain was still quite sketchy when it came to "logic" and "reasoning," but he somehow felt that this was not the environment he belonged in. He should've been in, well, possibly a crib of some sorts or at least a variation on that. He definitely _didn't_ belong in a dumpster. Slide Whistle felt that this situation called for him to fall back on what he did best, which was to cry. It never occurred to him that perhaps the reason he was in this predicament in the first place, might have something to do with that. He continued to wail, until a rather large (for him) object fell on him, and he didn't need to think, no matter how simplistically, any more. Bass had never realized how heavy his own head was before. Of course, he had never been an infant before, either. It had taken hours and hours and even more of those, simply to get himself from the dumpster, to two blocks down the street. He groaned as he inched forward, his head clutched in the baby's stubby little arms. It wasn't the fact that, crawling being the only possible means of transportation, his head was becoming seriously scratched up, that really bothered him. Nor was it the humiliation of wearing an unchanged diaper. No, what was really getting him down, was the fact that if he left this body for even a moment, he really _would_ crumble to dust. He could _never_ leave this stupid body! Ever! He really wished he had foreseen the possibility of this predicament before, but couldn't imagine how he could have. Was it just him or was he going even slower than before? Oh, no! he thought, realization hitting him heavily. You're starving to death, aren't you, you stupid body?!! Aaaaaah!!! Out of a shroud of doom, walked a single man. The man walked up the street towards Bass. He was casually dressed and carried a bottle with him. "Hey! Hey, buddy!" cried Bass and Slide Whistle in unison. (Actually, for Slide Whistle it was more like, "Hggg! Hgg, booboo (grrgle)!") The man stopped short and stared at the baby carrying a corpses head. "Hey, can you give me a bite to eat?" asked Bass, Slide Whistle doing the baby-talk equivalent. The man stared a bit more and then ran away as fast as he could. "Hey, get back here!" screamed the enraged Hell King. "What are you, some kind of... of baby hater or something?!!" Bass shook Slide Whistles head, mournfully. What was the world coming to? A half an hour later, Slide Whistle died of malnutrition, taking Bass with him. This event went unnoticed by almost every one, save for a few stray alley cats, who were pleasantly surprised at the unexpected meal. The End. Feature Three: I Have A Friend In You, Mr. Clarinet! Clarinet walks onto one of the many patios, high up on Sforzend's palace. The sound of The Birthday Party's song, "Mr. Clarinet" starts up. Clarinet: Being able to make a Nick Cave reference, was the only reason I was written in this story at all. Clarinet jumps off of the patio and plummets to his death. Sorry Clary. The End. All right, for starters, no one needs to tell me this whole thing was pointless, I'm quite aware of that, thank you very much. Basically, this was written because "Violinist of Hamelin" is my all time _favorite_ anime TV series and so I figured that I oughtta write a fanfic on it (especially considering that I can count the grand total of Hamelin fanfics in existence on one hand.) Now, many of you may have never heard of "Violinist of Hamelin" (though one wonders why you'd be reading this if you didn't), so let me tell you that my particular form of "literature" (snicker, snicker) doesn't do it justice in the slightest. It is the BEST SERIES THERE IS! AND IT DESERVES MUCH MORE PUBLICITY THAN A LOT OF OTHER CRAP SHOWS ARE GETTING! I suggest you get the first volume, which has been fansubbed by 3NA (Studio Frustrate's doing the translations, named so, I suppose, because they're taking a frustratingly long time to do them. They're doing a good job, though, I should add.) And then! get the original laser discs or DVDs from the UCI Anime Store (they have the soundtracks, too)! Or luck out, like me, and have the whole damn series available to rent at your local Japanese food store (go figure.) Believe it or not, I'm actually thinking of starting a not-quite-so-pointless Hamelin fanfic, that would be a continuation of the series, taking cues from the original manga. However, I have to get some more manga before considering that (first of all, I need to figure out what the fuck's with Orphel! Since I'm planning on making him a major character.) In case you're wondering, I have no idea if there's really a Cub Scout Troop 37, I just picked a random number. Sorry if that's your little brother's Cub Scout troop or something. Oh, and I know that there was never once a dumpster featured in any town in the series, but it's not as if every square inch of every town that existed in that world, was shown. So I figured I could get away with it. Yeah, that's the ticket... And no, there is no explanation as to why Guitar got transported to Earth instead of dying, sorry. Okay, enough jabbering. As usual, I'm Aaron, this is Chippy... Chippy: I hate you. Yeah, what else is new? This is the my master, the demon queen, Kalgara... Kalgara: Hello! And my e-mail address is dilandau2@hotmail.com. Write to me and make me feel all squishy inside! You _know_ you want to!