Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Grand Theft Auto: Nerima ❯ Call The Ships To Port ( Chapter 21 )

Call The Ships To Port

(Covenant - Call The Ships To Port)

 

 

Every time Ranma opened his eyes, it was some sort of growing up on his part, or another eye opener on life. Every day it was the same shit but in a different pile getting ready to be kicked directly into his face. It was always some sort of lesson at the cost of innocents, but for some unbelievable reason today was different. He woke up groggy in a white bed on wheels with two people beside him. One was Akane sitting in a chair with her head slumped over onto the mattress with her hand holding his, while on the other was that little girl Marci with her own teddy bear blanket and her favorite book, Green Eggs and Ham, cradled in her arms as she slept beside him. `Oh, I get it, my wife and kid. Got it.' A curtain was drawn around the bed with all three of them in it, but with the light peeking through it must have been morning.

 

Ranma felt really stiff all over and the bed felt oddly comfortable with its warmth. He slowly rotated his thumb around Akane's hand and woke her up. “Hey, how ya doing?”

 

She breathed in deeply opening her eyes and looked at Ranma with a smile. “It's about time you're awake.” She leaned in and wrapped an arm around his neck and gave the side of his head a kiss just above his ear. “How are you feeling?”

 

The kiss felt good, but it would have been better on his lips. He looked around and saw his sheets stained red in a few spots. “I'm not really sure yet.” He looked over at Marci and asked, “What's with her getting all cozy with me?”

 

Akane shrugged and smiled at him. “You saved her Ranma. When she was able to talk she went on and on about how her `uncle' Ranma made the mean man go away. She wanted to make sure you wouldn't go anywhere, so she read you that book every night and made sure no one came to take you away.”

 

Ranma looked away a bit bashfully. “I didn't do it alone… Wait… Every night? How long have I been out for?”

 

Akane stroked his head softly with a calm look. “Just a few days. The doctors had to keep you under so you wouldn't move around and ruin your stitches.”

 

“I'm starting to feel like Frankenstein's monster. Do I got bolts in my neck yet?”

 

Akane smiled and shook her head. “Not yet. Why? Are you afraid you'll scare her away?” Akane looked at Marci when she said it.

 

Ranma took another look at Marci; she was still black and blue with cuts all over, but with a peaceful look on her face. “She's a tough kid… Never would have thought a six year old could take that and get right back up.” Ranma looked back at Akane and asked, “Are the others ok?”

 

Akane looked away a bit shy for a moment and said, “They're all still here. Detective Willis can walk around, but he's been pretty shaken up since that night. Marci you can see and…”

 

“Jerry?”

 

“Well, she hasn't woken up yet… She lost a lot of blood…”

 

“Goddamnit…”

 

Akane held onto Ranma's hand tight and looked deep into his eyes. “I know you're still getting over the loss of a loved one, but the doctor said that she should pull through with lots of rest.”

 

Ranma looked puzzled for a moment and managed to get out, “Wha-?”

 

“I know she's important to you, so-”

 

“Whoa there! Jerry and I are just friends, anything that happened between us are just memories of a bad hang over.”

 

“But I thought you two were-”

 

Ranma shook his head with his lips making a big O. “Noooooo. We got drunk and Jerry took advantage of me.”

 

Akane's face dropped and looked at him unconvinced. “Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?”

 

Ranma looked annoyed and pulled Akane's ear close. “Look, Jerry's a… (whisper whisper)… so you see how drunk I was, right?” Akane just looked at him for a moment and then she started to smile, which soon turned into snickering. “Gee thanks Akane. Throw some salt on the wound why don't ya…”

 

“So you and Jerry aren't?”

 

“Not a snowballs chance in hell.”

 

Akane looked a little shy and asked. “Does that mean you're available?”

 

“Huh?”

 

She leaned down and lip locked Ranma on the spot and it felt funny. He just didn't know what to do at first, but lie there and take it. The kiss felt great, so he started to touch her cheek and kissed back. Then it became passionate with the two attacking each other's face with deep lips. Then a six year old pointed at Akane and said, “Ewww. You got boy germs!” Much like listening to a Barry White album with your girl friend and then hearing the record come to a screeching halt with the needle ripping straight across the vinyl, it was a hell of a mood destroyer.

 

Ranma looked at Marci like a deer caught in the headlights and said, “Good you're up, now get off my bed.”

 

“Uncle Ranma's awake!” She wrapped her tight little arms around his neck and hugged him while placing a knee right on his gunshot wound.

 

“ARGH! GET OFF! GET OFF!”

 

Marci rolled off him with a pointy elbow for support and onto her knees with her hands over her mouth staring at him. “I'm sorry…”

 

Ranma's head fell back and hit the pillow and on his face was an utterly annoyed expression. “Goddamn…” He mumbled a few times and pointed at her. “Just don't do it again…”

 

Akane laughed a little and picked up the little girl gently. “I think you should let your uncle Ranma rest, ok?”

 

“Ok…” She held onto Akane and put her chin on her shoulder so that Akane wouldn't see the kiss Marci blew at Ranma.

 

Ranma laid motionless on the bed with a sour look all over his face. “I don't remember ever agreeing to this uncle thing…”

 

Akane chuckled as she took Marci to her room. “Just let it go, Ranma.”

 

 

Almost right when Akane left with Marci, Hikori slipped in with a broad smile. “Well I heard an agonizing scream and here you are awake.”

 

“What are you all smiling about?”

 

“Well, I was hoping you'd wake up soon, so I could give you a damage report.”

 

“Damage report? And what is it I've damaged?”

 

“Er… Well, it's not so much damage as it is blackmail. I heard about you and-”

 

A sturdy arm reached up and grabbed Hikori's shirt with an unbreakable grip along with a vicious yank. “If you go around spreading that kind of untrue information, so help me I will beat you to death with my colostomy bag.”

 

“You got a colostomy bag?”

 

Ranma thought about if for a second and leaned over the side of his bed for a look. “Awe, crap. I've got a tube in my butt…”

 

“Don't worry about it I just came here to bug you anyways.”

 

“Well you're doing a good job of it. So what is it you want?”

 

Hikori scratched his chin and shrugged. “Well the way you killed that guy I thought you would have needed some sort of help, or mental evaluation.”

 

“You telling me you've got remorse for that fucker?”

 

Hikori shrugged again. “Not really, he had it coming. I'm just saying that you went a little psycho. I dragged your sorry ass out of there and I saw that pile of something that looked like dog food you left behind. Pretty fucking thorough.”

 

“Where I come from, a job is done and it's done well. That and he said something about Sheela I didn't like.”

 

Hikori looked puzzled for a moment and asked, “What, did you sit down, have tea and talk life with this guy before you hacked him up with a chainsaw?”

 

Ranma looked like he gave it moments thought and came up with, “No, why do you ask?”

 

Hikori looked at Ranma like he was stupid and had lobsters crawling out of his ears. “If you didn't then how did Chuck Palmer know who you were and about Sheela?”

 

Ranma looked at the wall blankly for a second and asked, “Yeah, how did he know?”

 

“I'm asking you, ya idiot! Was it a setup of something?”

 

Ranma sat up a little more properly in his bed with a hint of pain and crossed his arms. “How could it be? How would Jasper have known I would have gone there personally? It's not like he recognized me or anything.”

 

“You saw him?”

 

“Yeah, he's a speedy fucker. Shot my gun out of my hand before the door was even fully open.”

 

Hikori started to scratch his head really confused. “So you saw him, but he didn't see you, yet he was able to shoot your gun out of your hand while you busted into a room? How do you manage that?”

 

“TNA.”

 

“Oh, you were a chick… And you're still alive because…?”

 

“Boris took a bullet for me. Said I was one of his strippers and Jasper told him to shut up.”

“Why didn't you do anything?”

 

Ranma shrugged “I had a gun to my head and I couldn't breathe.”

 

“And he didn't shoot you?”

 

Ranma did the `Taa-daa' maneuver and held his hands out. “As you can see, no he didn't shoot me.”

 

“But… A guy like Jasper would have a few pictures of you somewhere… And you don't exactly go all out to keep your curse thingy a major secret.”

 

“Well he did give me a look up and down and seemed pretty dissatisfied.”

 

Hikori placed a hand on his chin and went into deep thought. “Must not have liked what he saw…”

 

“Yeah… Hey!” For some reason, deep down, Ranma took a certain amount of pride in his female figure and inadequacy pissed him off for reasons he himself couldn't understand. It's just something that he'd developed after he got the curse and since then he's been cornering himself into a world of verbal abuse and people poking fun at him on a daily basis. Today was no different in that aspect.

 

“Self conscious? If it's any consolation I think you're a very lovely girl in your times of change.”

 

“Fuck off!”

 

“I'm ashamed to admit it, but sometimes I fantasize about what it would be like to-”

 

“Do you want to be beaten with the colostomy bag? I swear to god I'll do it!” The way Ranma held it up with out even flinching when the covers rose close to his legs caused concern in Hikori's mind.

 

Hikori started smiling and scratching the back of his head. “Well, if it's any consolation-”

 

“No! No, how about you get out and do something meaningful for once like I don't know… Cook at Ukyo's place, she'll keep ya busy for hours.”

 

“Ok, want me to get you some water while I'm out, so you know… You can do what ever it is you do when you're a chick.”

 

“How about you shampoo my crotch, asshole!?”

 

Hikori chuckled and started stepping out. “Ok, ok, but it's good to see you're doing well. I think Mousse wanted a word with you or something.”

 

“For crying out loud, I'm an injured man, I should be left alone and be resting in style, so get to it and get me a hammock.”

 

“Whatever douche bag.”

 

 

When Hikori left Ranma slid back down and let his head hit the pillow. `That really took it out of me… Am I really that fucked up?' Ranma lift the covers and pulled open a little housecoat he was given. `Jesus Murphy! How did I get so many bruises!?' It wasn't just bruises, but small cuts all over the place with a big red, purple, blue, and black spot where a bullet hole was replaced with a bunch of stitches and a shit load of gaze. His shoulder and a little ways down his arm was completely bandaged up, red and it probably had a really effective freezing cream on it, but even then it still throbbed with a small fire in it. After evaluating his personal damage report he came to a conclusion. `I should be way more drugged up then I am right now… I'm going to start feeling this shit in an hour.' It also dawned on him that he couldn't feel his legs, but he could still move his feet. `Odd…'

 

He was so caught up in thought that he didn't even see Akane step back in, nor did he notice her hand on his head right away. “Sorry I jumped on you like that…”

 

“Eh?”

 

“I shouldn't have just kissed you like that, I wasn't thinking about your feelings.”

 

“Oh, please don't have the feelings discussion with me. That is the last thing I need right now. How's the brat?”

 

Akane giggled. “She's fine. Are you sure you don't like kids?”

 

Ranma thought about it for a minute and gave her a half smile. “Any one can see through my `tough guy/I hate kids' act. It's just the thought of being a dad that scares the shit out of me.”

 

Akane crossed her arms, legs and sat back. “That's an odd thing to say.”

 

“Never mind… Just something that's been going through my head lately. With what happened to Marci and what happened to Shampoo… Going after Chuck was the closest I've ever felt to being a dad, being worried about a kid so much. All hysterical, but able to keep my head. That wasn't what Bugsy was like… I'm just wondering if I would have done it differently if I was her dad.”

 

Akane smiled and held onto his hand. “I wouldn't worry. You're not her dad; you're her big strong uncle Ranma that saved her life.”

 

Ranma smiled. “Yeah…” Then he let out a sniff. “Oh god! Akane look away!”

 

“What?”

 

“I'm getting all misty eyed here. Look away!” Ranma's palm went to his eyes and he had a large embarrassed smile on his face.

 

Akane laughed and hugged him. “That's so sweet… Don't worry I won't tell anyone.”

 

Ranma tried to push her off. “No, stop. You're gonna get me going and when I start I don't stop.”

 

Bugsy stood at the door with his arms crossed and a large grin on his face. “You big softy.”

 

“No, not you too.”

 

Bugsy walked over and put out a hand. “Put er' there man.”

 

Ranma put his hand out too, but with a few tears in his eyes. “Ok… But go thank Willis or something… I can't stand this kind of attention.”

 

Bugsy's hand held Ranma's with something that felt like he didn't want to let go. He shook his head as if doing some sort of self-reflecting in his mind. “When I asked for your friendship, I never expected this from you… You three saved my baby girl… Anything… Anything you need, want, it doesn't matter you come to me. All right?”

 

Ranma nodded and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah… Just don't make me do that again. That was… It just wasn't the proudest moment in my sanity. Yeah, that's the best way to descried it.” Ranma turned his head towards the doorway to see Mousse standing there with his arms crossed and looking down at the ground. He seemed to be thinking hard about something serious and the look on his face showed that he wasn't there to deliver flowers. He had a question for Ranma and it had been burning a hole in his brain for a few days now. Akane caught Ranma's glance and saw Mousse as well. “Hey guys, could you give us a moment?”

 

Akane nodded and Bugsy turned around to see Mousse. “Oh, uhh sure. I should go check on Marci anyways.”

 

Akane got up and ran her fingers through his hair. “I'll be in the next room if you need me.”

 

“Thanks.” The two left and Mousse stepped in closing the door behind him. “That serious eh?”

 

“Yeah.” Mousse pulled up a chair and sat by the bed. “I've got a question for you.”

 

“What?” Then Mousse just sort of stayed silent, not knowing really how to ask it. He started rubbing his neck, adjusting his glasses, anything he could do to kill time. “Fine I'll guess. Does it involve something I've done?”

 

“No… It's more something you might have experience in. You see I got this letter the other day…” Mousse pulled it out of his sleeve and handed it to Ranma.

 

Ranma took a gander at it and read the writing. He got to the bottom and turned his eyes towards Mousse slowly. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

 

“I haven't told Shampoo yet…”

 

Ranma scratched his head and simply said, “Oh, I get it. Finally found a lead and don't know what the hell to do.”

 

Mousse slouched in his seat a little and let out a breath. “This guy says he knows who killed our child, but…”

 

“You're not sure if it's the real deal or some sort of sick joke.” Ranma read the letter again quickly and said the name at the bottom. “Ned Vinsfield… Sounds like a real name…” Ranma thought about it again and looked Mousse in the eye. “I don't see why you shouldn't check it out, or is it something else that's bothering you?”

 

Mousse nodded. “I want revenge and I want it badly, but I'm not sure if I should tell her or not.”

 

“You're asking the wrong guy Mousse. I don't even know what the fuck I'm going to do, let alone what you should do. All I can advise is to bring a gun and a couple of buddies, but please remember that you're taking advise from a guy that hacked someone up with a chainsaw, so it may be a little questionable.”

 

Mousse just looked at him for a second, shook his head and said, “I didn't know that.”

 

“Oh… Uh… Just pretend you didn't hear that then.”

 

Mousse got up and started heading out. “You're right… You're the wrong person to ask.”

 

Just as Mousse touched the doorknob Ranma spoke up. “Just so you know, if it were up to me that is, I'd find the man responsible and give her the big kill. The fight has been taken out of her, but I saw you both blow away eight guys with my own eyes. She got five and you got three and I'm surprised that you even managed to hit someone with that sight of yours, but what I'm getting at is that the fight is still alive in the both of you. You've both dirtied your hands so you may as well go the next step, unless of coarse you want to forgive and forget, but that's just not going to happen. My suggestion would be to talk to this Ned Vinsfield before you talk to Shampoo, just so you don't get her hopes up if he doesn't deliver.”

 

Mousse looked a little edgy and asked, “What if I get killed…?”

 

Ranma laughed, “That's your problem not mine. Just don't die.” Mousse now officially thought Ranma was a class A crazy, but for some reason the advise seemed pretty solid, except for that not dying part. That was going to be hard, but he nodded and left without a word. Ranma was finally starting to feel relaxed and he sunk into the bed to rest his eyes. After a little while his breathing became soft and he was getting ready to go back to sleep, but someone opened the curtain beside his bed. He rolled his head and looked over and soon his calm expression became a look of shear horror. “Jerry! What the hell are you doing here!?”

 

Jerry looked groggy from her bed and a little angry. “Not a snowballs chance in hell, huh? I turn my back on you for one minute and you're off meandering with another woman!”

 

“Where the- Fuck that! When the hell did you wake up!?”

 

“Don't try to blindside me with idle expressions of concern!”

 

Ranma's face became angry and he pointed at the door. “I'm not concerned! I want you out of my room!”

 

 

Mousse was in the elevator going up to the ground floor of the casino with his arms crossed and thinking to himself. His back was to the wall and his brain was in the clouds somewhere. `Ned Vinsfield… What would you know?' Mousse had his doubts as the elevator door slid open to neon lights and loud digital sounds of slot machines. He sighed as he stepped out through the lounge and into the street. He'd never really gotten fully acquainted with the joy of driving a car and preferred to walk through the city most of the time.

 

In truth Mousse had grown up very little in the last two and a half years. Unlike Ranma he always had a constant chip on his shoulder about something, and couldn't shake the feeling that someone was getting ready to step on his toes. Everything was an insult of some kind, and everyone was still trying to steal his Shampoo away from him. Sure he lost a kid and felt bad about it, but not nearly as much as Shampoo did. It was a cold thought, but he wasn't attached yet and though he was sad, the cold hard truth was that he managed to shake it off and replace it with that familiar schoolboy grudge. The thought of this occurred to him and it made him mad. At best he'd been faking grief so that he had an excuse to get angry and complete that cycle in his life, and keep up the redundant nature of his character.

 

Get mad, get revenge, prove love, get shot down and repeat. Then one day Ranma left and all his problems went with him. It was Mousse's big chance and he finally succeeded in getting the woman he'd lusted after all his life. Thank you lord; there must be a god somewhere out there. Then Mousse's brain went into autopilot and now he didn't know what else to do with his life. How can you just live happily ever after one day and not even think about what happened the day before? People need conflict in their lives in order to make things interesting and as soon as that conflict is gone they go nuts and stop using their head to think, just so that they can get that conflict back.

 

Mousse was no different from anyone else and as soon as it became a constant stream of sitting back and relaxing, he got bored and needed something to do. So what did he do? He decided that he was ready to father a child and a child brings conflict, frustration, and everything else you need to make your life interesting. It's the hardest task, the most rewarding task, and the most eye-opening task that you can ever bring upon yourself. So they talked about it, got busy, had fun and a lot was to be expected from this, and then it happened. A pregnant woman doesn't come home one night. Mousse gets scared. Granny assures him that she can look after herself. Next day comes; people are starting to get worried. Second day becomes a mad search. Third day, police are informed and there's a search party. End of week one, Shampoo must be dead. Next Wednesday comes around and there's a knock on the door, must be another cop telling them they found nothing, but it's not. It's Shampoo. She's scared, barefoot, bloody, beaten, shaking, and a hell of a lot thinner.

 

He wanted to get revenge for Shampoo and though it may sound right at first, this is wrong. He had to get revenge for the baby boy or girl that he was going to raise and train to take on life on its own. He missed his chance and did nothing about it, but cry with her until it seemed pointless to him. He was an utter bastard for not doing anything about it till now and the only thing that seemed to make sense now were the words of a guy he hated and in most recent news, chopped some other crazy up with a chainsaw. A bullet in his brain would have been easier to listen to right now then that nutso cross dressing bastard, but he didn't have a gun on him so it was just better to go to the meeting place and ask around.

 

 

The meeting place he was meant to go to first was actually the start of a chain reaction of places he had to go in order to find this Ned Vinsfield. The first place was something of a run down store in the poor district close to home and he'd have to find a man with a monocle reading a newspaper. Unfortunately he'd only be there at a certain time so Mousse had to kill some time before he went. He thought about taking Ranma's advise in full and get a couple of guys to help him, but he didn't want to deal with thugs and get people that involved that didn't need to be, besides this was something personal. He didn't need a couple of gung-ho wing nuts with itchy trigger fingers, waving their guns around trying to prove a point. He could have asked that Hikori guy, but he didn't trust for some reason. The guy just seemed like he was always plotting something bad behind every ones backs and it gave Mousse an uneasy stomach. Paranoia? Indigestion? Kidney stone? He couldn't tell, but something was up for sure somewhere and chances are they were going to get in his way, as usual.

 

It was decided; he was going to do this alone. If Ranma couldn't help him then he didn't want help from anyone. Everyone else had a bad air around them that gave the chance of them being untrustworthy. It was his responsibility now, no one else's. He couldn't rely on anyone but Shampoo and right now she couldn't know what's going on, the stress would get to her in no time and she didn't need that. What was needed was a cup of tea or something to get Mousse to stop thinking all this bullshit and just do what he came here to do. Find the man with the monocle reading the newspaper, in a booth in the back all-alone. That would signal the start of the gauntlet.

 

Mousse never got that tea he needed to calm down, but without ever noticing anyone coming in, he chanced a glance up for the hell of it and saw whom he needed to see. He got up and kept his calm as he walked over to the man reading the sports page and kindly asked where he'd find Ned Vinsfield. The man looked up lazily and put down his paper for an examination of the young man in front of him. He didn't look like much, maybe jogged every morning or something, but hell he was the one Ned wanted to talk to. “I may know where he is.”

 

 

Somewhere else in the city sat a man on his bed with a .44 under his chin; he'd already given the barrel a spin and without any fear pulled the trigger. A sound click echoed through his room and he didn't even hold his breath when he did it. He sighed and threw the gun onto the ground where it knocked over a few whiskey bottles, some of which still had some of the sauce in them. His voice was low and raspy as he spoke, “One more day…” and put on his coat to go to that place. His eyes always looked heavy as if tired from something and he walked like a zombie to that place in the hills.

 

 

Mousse had just been thrown around the city on an info gathering mission that involve people that only knew the next place to go instead of a final destination. He'd been from the poor district to the rich one and everywhere in between. Every one he met all had the purpose of waiting for a guy with glasses to come around and tell him where to go. Mousse started wishing that he'd bother to invest in a car when he had the chance, but judging by the last place he had to go before he got to the right place, someone must have known that he'd be walking. It was a club and it only opened in the late afternoon.

 

In the past little while there was a heist that involved almost every club in town getting screwed out of business for a single night and the Kitten Club was part of it, but at least whoever did it didn't have the same kind of grudge towards them as they apparently had towards The Roxy. The guy must have done something pretty bad to get burned alive and thrown out of a window, hell the entire club was burned down, but it was rebuilt again with a new design, a real bar, and a few other bells and whistles a place needed to be popular. It was now called Elektra's and owned by some guy from out of town, he wasn't important, but a certain bartender he employed was.

 

“I'm looking for Phil. Is he here?”

 

The guy serving the drinks nodded over the music and said, “Yeah, he's on in a few minutes. He'll be out anytime now, you want something to drink?”

 

“No thanks.” Mousse sat on the stool silently and looked out into the crowd. The place used to be sort of a mosh-pit for a bunch of Goths that wore too much make-up and a lot of black. Mousse would never understand the logic in it, but in his travels he'd seen some pretty fruity attire, so it was easy to shrug off, but the music was another thing. Some sort of weird techno opera music with electric guitars and synthesizers. The place hadn't really changed from its old angle, but the place defiantly looked better.

 

“You were looking for me?”

 

Mousse looked up and was a little surprised to see something that he just couldn't make out. He couldn't tell if he was looking at a man or a woman, it was a little creepy. He was a tall thin boy with arm warmers, fish net stockings, about seven pounds of piercing and black, black, black, however the name Phil gave it away. “Yeah, I was told you could tell me where Ned Vinsfield might be.”

 

“So you came… What took you so long?”

 

Mousse got the letter the night Chuck Palmer struck and other things became priority, but the three days after were just fear. He didn't know what to do until Ranma woke up, but that proved to be pretty pointless. He didn't feel like explaining it and just said, “Where is he?”

 

 

The drowsy man finally reached the place in the hills at a ranch with a couple of graves out back. Behind a tombstone named Christine he pulled a large case out from a hidden compartment in the ground. Inside were little trinkets and toys that would belong to children and mixed in them were guns and a lot of them. Revolvers, shotguns, and rifles were what he pulled out and tied to his back. He pulled out a pair of chaps and a belt to hold a couple of guns at his waist. The last items he pulled out of the case was an oilskin cowboy hat with a small feather in it, which made him smile, and a pair of riding gloves. Armed to the tooth he reached into his weather-stained coat and pulled out a couple of small flowers. He place one on each grave and touched the soil softly with his hands. “I'll be with you soon… I promise…”

 

He looked out into the rolling hills at the sunset coming down and along the path was a shadow of a single man etched in the distance. His hair was long and a beam of light reflected off his glasses. This must have been him, the father of that poor child. He reached into the case one more time for a whiskey bottle buried in the bottom. He undid the cap and took a mouthful while keeping an eye on the man coming towards him.

 

Mousse walked on without any fear in his step. The thought of revenge gave him goose bumps and the thought of finding out who was responsible was making him anxious. He could tell the man had firepower on him, it was easy enough to see, but luckily Mousse made a stop before he came. He had a talk with Bugsy over the phone and found out where he could pick up some protection and being who he was he could hide it all. Nifty gizmos that made a weapon pop out of his sleeve and into his hand were in their proper place, things that could really hurt some one were in his pockets and with all these Mousse was about to learn something that Ranma had to a learn a year back or so. Sometimes you have to go a little crazy in order to justify what you're about to do.