🚀 go-pugleaf

***

Wanderer got out of the taxicab, tipped the driver, and looked around. He
was standing in front of the offices of the Multiverse Television Network,
the agency that handled the Video Universe's programming needs. Due to the
ever-increasing number of programs it had to cover, it occupied a node of
its own, even though, theoretically, it was located in the high-scale
district of Southtown. While Wanderer had been here once before with Austin
Loomis, he'd never been invited there alone, and had no idea what to expect.
Consequently, the building seemed to loom above him like a Gothic castle.
Wanderer gripped his walking stick a little tighter, assumed an expression
of nonchalance, and walked through the front door.

The lobby was about the size of a football field, and was staffed with all
manner of creatures from every node he'd ever seen (and a few, naturally,
that he hadn't). The secretary's desk took center stage. And what a
secretary she was--wait a minute.

"Hey, I know you...Annie Hamilton?" Wanderer asked.

The noted Power Instinctive smiled prettily. She was wearing a smart-looking
business suit. "Yup. What can I do for you?"

"I thought you were a street fighter."

"Not since Power Instinct ended. After all, I have to do something to pay
the bills. Do you have an appointment?"

"I think so...my name is Thomas Wilde. I was asked to come here by the
president of the board."

Annie's face twisted into the Universal Skeptical Glare that comes with
every secretarial job, taking in Wanderer's jeans, boots, black trenchcoat
and collarless shirt. "Of course you were." She scrutinized her computer
screen like she was looking for flaws in a gemstone. "The President doesn't
have any open appointment slots for today. I'm afraid you're going to have
to--" the lighting dimmed dramatically, "--Take A Number."

Everyone in the lobby suddenly gasped. Wanderer reached hesitantly out and
took a piece of paper from the handy dispensation bin. His number was 10^23.
Annie looked at his expression, shrugged, and spoke into her microphone.

*PAGING NUMBER 4! COULD NUMBER 4 PLEASE COME TO THE FRONT DESK?*

A small yellow sphere with a wedge out of it came up to the desk, spit a
number out of its mouth, and, accompanied by *wakka-wakka* sounds, made its
way towards the elevator. Judging by the cobwebs trailing behind it, Pac-Man
had been here for quite some time.

"Clearly, it is time to pursue other options," Wanderer muttered. "Annie,
could you look again, under the name 'Wanderer'? I was told I had to be
here, no matter what."

"Oh, please. That is the oldest--wait...that's right here. Sorry for
delaying you." Annie was intensely apologetic all the way from her desk to
the elevator, and was still saying how sorry she was right up to the
elevator doors closing.

The elevator ride took upwards of fifteen minutes, and the music (which, now
that Wanderer thought about it, sounded a lot like Lion Rafale's music from
VF2) was appropriately grating. Thus, when the doors finally opened on the
top floor, Wanderer practically ran out.

He burst into a waiting room that was on the same enormous scale as the
lobby had been. Chairs lined the walls, and a set of double doors took up
most of the far wall. Lacking anything better to do, Wanderer chose a seat
next to the only other normal-looking people in the room, a quiet man who
looking through an issue of the "Southtown Times" and another man with a
ponytail peacefully meditating on the next chair over. He appeared to be
levitating. On the cover of the newspaper, in a large font, the headline
read METRO CITY NIGHTMARE IS OVER: MAD GEAR SMASHED BY HAGGAR AND FRIENDS,
with a big picture underneath of Guy, Cody, and Mike Haggar, Cody holding
Jessica tightly, each of them smiling like cats that had gotten into the
cream.

"Old paper," Wanderer murmured.

"You have no idea," the man muttered, folding up the paper. "There's a story
about the kidnapping of Yuri Sakazaki in there, too." He looked at Wanderer.
"You seem familiar."

"So do you guys." Wanderer thought hard about it. "Are you on television?"

"Yeah. He's called Emerald." The levitating man nodded in Wanderer's
direction without opening his eyes. "My name's Hunter. We work for the
MVFC--"

"*That's* where I know you from. I'm Thomas Wilde--"

"The second Ultimate Video Rumble, right? Well, some of it, anyway."

"Yeah, the last fourth or so. I'm gonna be back to do the third, though, a
little later this year. What are you doing here?"

Hunter pointed his thumb at the door. "The President wanted to see us for
some reason. I'm hoping it isn't contract renegotiation time already; we're
still dealing with the ratings board about the violence content. I'm not
sure we'd make it. Why are you here?"

"Same reason you are."

The doors slowly split open, and both of them turned. A man, wearing a
pinstriped suit and big in the way that only anime characters can be, walked
slowly out and said in a hollowly booming voice, "Hunter, Emerald, and
Wanderer?"

They stood up. Wanderer swallowed hard. "That's us, man."

"Come with me." The man turned around and walked into the offices, and they
hesitantly followed.

The President of the MVTN sat on the other side of his desk. All that was
visible of him were his hands, which were folded neatly on the desk in front
of him. They appeared to be wearing thick iron gloves. The rest of the
President was cloaked in shadow.

*GOOD AFTERNOON, GENTLEMEN. I THANK YOU FOR COMING.*

"Please. Don't mention it. Ever." Wanderer knew that the effect of the
office was to intimidate people who entered. He also knew that it worked
*damn* well. His knuckles had gone white where they gripped his walking
stick.

*I HAVE CALLED THE THREE OF YOU HERE ON A MATTER OF GREAT IMPORTANCE. YOU
NEEDN'T WORRY; THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR CONTRACTS.* Hunter let out a
relieved sigh. *OR, IN THE REST OF YOUR CASES, YOUR UTTER LACKS THEREOF.*
Wanderer snorted. *INSTEAD, THE NETWORK WOULD LIKE TO REQUEST YOUR
ASSISTANCE IN A SENSITIVE MATTER.*

"I'm not killing any network execs again unless you promise that they'll put
up a decent fight." Emerald gave the dark figure a derisive look. "A
samurai's gotta have his standards, you know. What do you think I am, a
ninja or something?"

*NOT THAT EITHER. I TRUST THAT THE THREE OF YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE FOURTH
DREAM TOURNAMENT?*

They nodded. Hunter volunteered, "I heard they went under after the third
round due to technical difficulties."

A new voice sounded from beside the president. "That's the story we gave the
press." A young man, a bottle of aspirin in his hand, came into the light.
"I'm Deuce. Pleased to meet you."

Hunter nodded. Emerald grinned in recognition. Wanderer had no reaction.

"Anyway, we had this half-assed idea after the third round's fighting that
we had better soundproof Haohmaru's room, so we declared a day off from the
tournament." Deuce sounded disgusted. "Would you believe he talks in his
sleep? The other fighters couldn't get any rest. As a result, we had some
surprising losses and DKOs in the first and second rounds."

"So I noticed," Wanderer murmured.

"In effect, what happened was simple. We went over budget. *Way* over
budget. In order to accomodate Haohmaru, we wound up having to redesign the
entire DreamArena. As a result, we had to close the Tournament without
declaring a clear winner."

"How legendary," Emerald said. Hunter held back a laugh.

*JOKING ASIDE,* the President said, reminding them all he was there, *THE
NETWORK HAS DECREED THAT THE FOURTH DREAM TOURNAMENT CANNOT REMAIN
UNFINISHED. DEUCE AND HIS COWORKERS ARE UNABLE TO DO SO DUE TO OTHER
CONCERNS. THUS, WE HAVE ELECTED TO TAP YOU.*

"Why us?"

Deuce answered. "There are only a few people who have experience with this
sort of sporting event. Sean Givan is retired, and we couldn't locate Mark
Maestas. Chris Wolvie said he has his hands full with the MVFC. Christopher
Bird refused due to health reasons; he appears to be on a long vacation due
to something which happened near the end of the second Rumble." Wanderer
grimaced. "Austin Loomis is an employee of this station, and won't actually
*run* a tournament; he seems to think it'd be some kind of conflict of
interest. As you know, Hunter, Samantha Cooke is unreachable. Jessica
Sanders is strictly a member of the MVFC staff and as such has no ties with
this organization; if she works on this, it would be something that you need
to discuss with her." Deuce looked at Hunter and raised an eyebrow. "Little
Mac and Crossbow sent our messenger back to the studios with a broken nose
and an arrow sticking out of his left buttock."

Hunter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "They do that occasionally for
some reason. I think it amuses them."

"So, we found ourselves looking at the three of you."

"You mean...?" Emerald said.

Deuce kept a straight face. "Yes. You're the best of what's left."

*I WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU AT THIS POINT THAT YOU ARE BOUND BY YOUR
CONTRACTS TO AID US IN ANY WAY POSSIBLE,* the President boomed. *YOU WILL,
OF COURSE, BE COMPENSATED FOR YOUR TROUBLES.*

"I don't *have* a contract with you," Wanderer said. "What's in it for me?"

*THE MVTN WILL IGNORE THE FACT THAT YOU MANAGED TO WALK AWAY WITH FIFTY
PERCENT OF THE T-SHIRT GROSS FOR THE VIDEO RUMBLE.*

"So, when do we start?"

"Mercenary," Emerald muttered.

"I can't help it. It's my nature."

"What's your Demeanor?"

"Don't even start."

*AS FOR YOU, EMERALD, DO YOU REALLY WANT THOSE PICTURES RELEASED TO THE
PUBLIC?*

Emerald went white.

Wanderer paused for a moment and replied, "Well, Mr. President, if you think
that just by threatening us, you can get us to be your slaves, well, that's
where you're right." He paused.

"But, and we're only saying this because we care," Emerald added, "there are
a lot of decaffeinated brands on the market today that are *just* as tasty
as the real thing."

*I'M SERIOUS.*

"So are we."

*WE INTEND TO RESTART THE DREAM TOURNAMENT IN NO MORE THAN ONE WEEK'STIME,*
the President continued, ignoring their snickering. *CAN WE COUNT ON THE
THREE OF YOU TO BE THERE?*

Wanderer shrugged. "Beats being in court."

Emerald looked at Hunter. "Can we do this and the MVFC at the same time?"

Hunter smiled. "I think Chris and Jessica can handle things while we're
gone."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah. Mostly. I think."

"In that case, count me in."

Hunter nodded. "Me too."

*EXCELLENT. THE DREAMARENA NODE HAS BEEN MAINTAINED BY OUR EMPLOYEES. YOU
SHALL FIND IT IN GOOD CONDITION WHEN YOU ARRIVE. YOU ARE DISMISSED.*

The three of them found themselves sitting outside in the waiting room.

"Are we actually going to do this?" Emerald asked.

Wanderer shrugged. "Yup. Scary, ain't it?"

"Mm-hm."

They stopped briefly in the lobby, when Wanderer handed Annie Hamilton an
envelope and a business card, and then out to the street. Hunter flagged
down a taxi.

"Can we offer you a lift?" Emerald said to Wanderer.

"Hm? Oh, thanks, but no. I'll see you at the Arena in a couple of days."

They shook hands. "See you then."

----------------------------------------------------------------------Violen
t fighting to come again. :)