* Disclaimer *

Takahashi Rumiko created Ranma 1/2 and all of the characters and situations found therein. I have no rights to them whatsoever, and hope that she and anyone to whom they have been properly licenced do not sue me.

William Shakespeare has been credited with the creation of Much Ado About Nothing, but regardless of whoever actually wrote it, I don’t think I’m in danger of being sued for misusing it. My apologies nonetheless to the Bard.

"Shampoo not care who see Shampoo naked. You sell any pictures you want. You give away. If Shampoo care, Shampoo wear more clothes."

Nabiki sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

The Amazon scowled. "Why mercenary girl think Shampoo want anything?"

Nabiki threw up her hands. "I just wanna get this film done, okay? I want the sucker finished!"

Shampoo tilted her head. "Why not say so?"

"...What do you mean?"

"Nabiki come in here, show pictures, make threats. If was warrior, Shampoo might simply beat up. But all you want is film finished?"

"...Yeah."

"What Shampoo do?"

"Well, all you gotta do is play the part of a lady in waiting--"

"Play part? Shampoo be movie star!" The girl jumped up in excitement. "I go ask Great-Grandmother if is okay!"

Nabiki groaned, and dropped her head in her hands.

A minute later, Cologne came out of the kitchen.

"So, you need an extra for your little movie, eh, girl?"

Nabiki nodded glumly.

"Well, luckily for you, Shampoo likes the idea. She’s willing to work for free. I, on the other hand, am not so generous with the working time of my best waitress." She cackled. "Mousse, on the other hand, you can have if you want."

"No, it’s a female part. And Shampoo looks a lot like the original actress."

Cologne nodded. "I thought so. So you must pay the piper, eh?"

Nabiki sighed. "What do you want?"

"Two things. First: You will pay Shampoo’s normal wages while she works for you. Keep track of the hours, and make out receipts."

"All right. Anything else?"

"Yes. Second: You’ll find a small part for myself." She grinned. "I, at least, you will not have to pay."

"Oh?"

"I’ve always wanted to be in a film."

Tail Kinker Presents

In Association with TN Enterprises

Much Ado About Ranma

"I have a task for you, Kodachi--"

"Name not Kodachi. Name Shampoo."

"Cut!" Nabiki sighed. "Well, that was quick."

She walked up to the Amazon. "Look, Shampoo. One of the first things to remember when acting, is that you aren’t called by your real name."

Shampoo frowned. "Other people are. Airen is. Nice girl is."

"Yes, that is true. But you are replacing someone who quit. Remember?"

"Shampoo still not Crazy Girl." She fingered the single ponytail that had replaced her normal hairdo. The natural purple colour had been covered over with a seven-day black dye. "Even if try to make look like."

Nabiki growled. "I know you’re not stupid, Shampoo. Why do you act like you are?"

Shampoo looked askance at Nabiki. In flawlessly unaccented Japanese, she said, "And give up all the advantages that go with being considered mindless?" She coughed. "Not like what do to throat."

Nabiki smirked. "Fine. At least try to use some brain cells here, okay?" She sighed. "Just as well we had to cut...I forgot I was supposed to be in this scene anyway."

Kasumi spoke up. "If you are going to be on-camera, who is going to run the cameras? I don’t see your partner here."

"He’s not my partner. He’s just an unemployed computer geek foreigner with delusions of being a writer." She fumed. "And he’s been paying less and less attention to this ever since--"

"Ever since what?"

"...Never mind. Not important."

The scriptwriter in question chose this unfortunate moment to show up.

"Hi, Nabs. Sorry I’m late. Did I miss anything?"

The resulting beating was, of course, no more than he deserved. Perhaps he should have remembered that Nabiki, while not a martial artist per se, was still physically quite formidable. At least compared to an out-of-shape writer. When it was over, and he was propped up behind a camera, Nabiki stormed onto the set, straightened her clothing, and bellowed.

"Roll, and action!"

"I have a task for you, Kodachi. I need you to run to the dojo, where you’ll find my sister Akane talking with Mister Saotome and Doctor Tofu. Please tell her that you overheard Nabiki and myself talking about her. Oh, and tell her that if she stands by that corner, there, she can hear everything that happens in the garden without being seen."

The other girl nodded. "Kodachi will do this." She turned and ran off.

Kasumi giggled. "This shall be a nice joke, don’t you think, Nabiki? When she arrives, I’ll mention Ranma, and you have to praise him to the stars. Do you think you can manage that?"

"I’ll try real hard." She craned her neck. "Yep, and here she comes now, sis." She winced. "Cut."

The scriptwriter, still groggy from his thrashing, shook his head. "What’s the problem?"

Nabiki scowled. "I goofed. Kasumi and I aren’t sisters in this film." She considered. "I’ll just jump back in on my line. We can edit around it later. Ready, sis?"

"When you are."

"I’ll try real hard." She craned her neck. "Yep, and here she comes now, Kasumi."

Kasumi’s voice dropped somewhat. "We’ll have to move a little closer, so she doesn’t miss anything." She turned towards the house, raising her voice as she did. "No, I think it would be better if we don’t tell her. She is stubborn, hotheaded and proud...she would merely use it to torment him."

Nabiki grinned. "But are you sure that Ranma loves your sister?"

There was a muffled thump from around the corner. Kasumi pictured it as Akane’s jaw hitting the floor, and stifled a giggle. "His father told me, and so did my fiancee."

"And you really don’t plan to tell her?"

"Well, Mister Saotome said that I should, but I will not. And I told them that they should not, either."

"Why not? He seems a nice enough guy, and he’s good-looking to boot. Lots of muscles."

"No. I know my sister well. She has no use whatsoever for men. Probably because they are all so weak, compared to her. Even my dear Ono could not defeat her."

"But Ranma’s a strong man. And he’s handsome, and even-tempered, and quite noble. His father told me once that Ranma would die before breaking his word."

"True. If I wasn’t already engaged..." She grinned impishly. "But knowing Akane, she’d just turn it all around. Strong? She’d say, like a gorilla. Handsome? She’d say he looks like a girl. Noble?" She sighed. "She’d just call him simple."

"You’re pretty harsh on her."

"I do love my sister...but I know her, too."

"I still think you should tell her."

"No! I’ll go to Ranma, instead, and tell him never to speak of it to her. I’ll even tell him some lies about her, just to make sure!"

"Fine, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Sheesh." Nabiki considered. "When are you gonna hold the wedding?"

"Tomorrow, in fact! Come on, I’ll show you the dress!" The two hurried away, into the house.

Akane stepped around the corner, her mouth hanging open.

"My ears are burning." She shook her head. "What kind of line is that?"

"Cut!" Nabiki re-entered the set from the house. "And it was going so well, too."

"Sorry, but still...’My ears are burning?’ Does someone set fire to my hair in this scene?" She turned on the scriptwriter. "What the heck does that mean, anyway?"

The writer threw his hands in the air. "It’s just an expression. When you hear someone talking about you, y’know?"

"No, I don’t know." She scowled at him. "Maybe when someone talks about you in America, your hair catches fire, but here in Japan, people sneeze."

"Canada."

"Huh?"

"I’m Canadian. Not American." The writer scowled.

"What’s the difference?"

"Americans can’t hold their beer." The writer glanced down at his notebook. "And I know about the sneezing thing. But there wasn’t really a way I could see to work it into the story."

"Oh?" Akane grabbed the notebook and flipped through it. "Where the heck is the script?" She tossed the notebook back at him and grabbed a script. "The rest of this is pretty lame, too. Where’d you get your writing skills? Out of a box of rice crackers?"

He threw up his hands. "Look, I’m doin’ my best, okay? I had problems with this scene. It doesn’t help that my Japanese isn’t that great either."

Akane grinned. "Trust me to ad-lib?"

"Why not? It’s Nabiki’s film."

"Fine. From my entrance." She turned and left.

The scriptwriter glanced up at the director. "You cool with this, Nabs?"

"Sure, I trust her. And don’t call me Nabs. Action!"

Akane stepped around the corner, rubbing her nose.

"I can’t believe that. I can’t! My own sister, calling me stubborn? Hotheaded? Said she’d lie about me!" She threw up her hands. "And to protect...Ranma? Ranma, in love with...me? I don’t believe it! He’d never love any woman, he said so!"

She considered. "But...it was Kasumi who said it. Kasumi’s never told a lie in her life, as far as I know.

"Maybe...he does love me.

"And I’m just driving him away..." She shook her head. "Maybe Kasumi was right. Maybe I am too proud." She sighed. "I’ll give him a chance. Maybe he’s a nice guy, and just reacting to my being nasty to him." She looked up. "All right, Ranma. You’ve got that chance. But you’d better live up to even better than Kasumi said you were!"

"Cut and print." Nabiki turned to the scriptwriter. "See? I told you we could trust her."

"Well, yeah. It’s a little more...melodramatic...than what I intended, but what the hey? It works." He considered. "Hey, Nabs. Would you like to head down to the Nekohanten with me after we wrap up? Grab a bite to eat?"

She turned to face him. "How many times have I told you not to call me Nabs?"

"Ummm..." He flipped open his notebook and thumbed through the pages. "Looks like...counting today, it’s seven."

Her eyes widened. "You’ve been counting?"

He shrugged. "I count everything."

"Well, then. Count on this. I will /fRnever/fI date anyone who insists on calling me Nabs." She turned and walked towards the gate.

"Hey, we’re not finished wrap-up yet. Where are you going?"

"Nekohanten." She scowled. "You can finish the wrap-up. I have to pay Shampoo."

"How much?"

"Eight grand."

/fR"Eight?!"/fI

"I am not happy with you costing this project a total of twenty-four thousand yen. Three shootings, three days, eight grand a day. Plus, you get to figure out what part we’re gonna give Cologne." She turned back towards him. "You are proving to be more of a liability to this effort than an asset. I am really not happy with you. And now you have the balls to..." She threw up her hands, turned, and stormed off.

The scriptwriter watched her leave, then flipped open his notebook. He jotted something down, then snapped the notebook closed.

And smiled.