Chapter 3: Kon Vs. That Stuffed Pig Guy
The day before the tournament
The dim lights of the former Xcution base of operations flickered while Riruka played with her official Soul Society Shinigami Tournament hell butterfly, perched on her fingers, as she waited for that stuffed pig guy to pick up.
“Greetings, stuffed pig guy.”
“Hey, that’s Mr. Pork to you!! Wait…”
“I hope you know that the time it takes you to answer my calls counts towards your fifteen minutes,” she threatened. “Now get your ass over here.”
“But, but I can’t come over, oyabun’s orders—“
“If you don’t then I’m going to have to stuff you into an even cutesy wootsier little stuffy wumpkins, and then wouldn’t your oyabun find that interesting. Oh, and bring donuts.” Riruka hadn’t become quite as enamored with donuts as Ginjou was with ramen, but Orihime was determined to addict her. “We’ll have two glazed and a… what is it a girl like you eats? Creatine donuts?”
“Tell me again why I’m supposed to like her?” Tatsuki sighed.
“Don’t doubt my tried and true Friendification process! You’ve seen how Harribel’s been undergoing some outstanding behavioral therapy!”
“You basically just had Ichigo convince her to eat Hollows instead of human souls,” said Tatsuki.
And boy was Ichigo grateful he’d pulled that one off.
“And when we invite Harribel over for some Dance Dance at the arcade everybody seems to have trouble taking their eyes off her.”
The fat yakuza guy arrived at the dank Fullbringer HQ in record time, skidding to a halt on a stolen scooter.
“I got three glazed, I even added sprinkles!” he breathed, rushing in with bag in hand.
“You think ours are figures that can support eating sprinkles!?” Riruka seethed, swinging her hips to the side. “Tell him Orihime!”
“Thank you so much for coming!” Orihime gave the yakuza a bow.
Mr. Pork was so taken aback by Orihime’s genuine niceness he almost forgot to have an erection, but Tatsuki’s roundhouse to the gut soon assured him that his nethers had indeed sprung to attention.
“Oh thanks, you saved me from a spot of bother,” said Riruka. “Won’t have to bear his squeals.” She flicked her heart power at the fat drooling thug, shrinking him down and infusing him into the pig plushy.
“A marked improvement, I should think.”
“Why do we need to bring this creep again?” asked Tatsuki, a bit nauseated by the whole affair.
“When Ginjou discovered his badge was a monitoring device, Soul Society tried a different direction.” Riruka explained at length.
“You’re kidding. Fluoridated water!?” Tatsuki looked aghast. All those conspiracy theories were still off the mark, but their only miscalculation was the perpetrator.
“A single solitary sip and Seireitei’s science department’s got you in their sights for days,” said Riruka. “Why do they want this little dude?” Riruka gave poor Mr. Pork a squeeze squeeze.
“Because he’s secretly a robot from the future.” Orihime nodded sagely.
“…No. Because this shinigami tournament has been repurposed as a PR stunt, with a focus on entertainment value. And if I don’t go… well, let’s just say Soul Society isn’t exactly tripping over themselves to absolve criminals.”
As if on cue, in came Rukia (in her gigai so Tatsuki could see her better), also with donuts. “I’m baaack,” she called, slinging her coat over her shoulder. Ever since Ichigo had regained the ability to see her, she’d enjoyed spending time on Earth with her friends immensely. Though she couldn’t for the life of her understand what Orihime saw in Riruka, she was willing to let the lion’s share of her animosity towards Riruka if it meant more arcades and karaoke—the finest friendship venues Japan had to offer. “Oh, are we all ready to head off so soon?”
Rukia couldn’t help it, her expression turned sour. It was maybe not the best afterlife when good old Earth was preferable in every way.
“It won’t be all bad,” smirked Riruka unsettlingly. “It’s the law of the jungle. We special people are in the minority, so we’re weak. And of course Soul Society is keeping an eye on us, to keep us down. But if I manage to stow away as many shinigami into dolls as possible, that’s the power balance shifted, isn’t it?”
“That’s sick,” said Rukia—sure, the shinigami corps in general were not a shining beacon of ethical integrity, but she had plenty of shinigami friends as well.
However, Orihime seemed okay with this plan. Rukia suspected she just wanted to see Ichigo in doll form.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be the one keeping an eye on her,” said Tatsuki, giving Riruka a vigorous noogie.
“HEY!” Riruka would rather die than be disheveled for more than a few seconds (on the whole she rather overestimated her own cuteness), so Tatsuki would prove herself quite the effective counter to Riruka’s diabolical plan.
“Arisawa-san, are you certain you’re ready to handle Soul Society?” Rukia had to ask.
“If an airhead like Orihime can survive, I sure as hell can,” Tatsuki grinned.
Rukia’s smile returned. “All right then. Off to Urahara’s.”
The hell butterfly landed on Rukia’s head.
Where had Kon been during the entire Fullbringer arc? Why, where else: chillaxing in Soul Society. He was no longer needed on Earth, and here he could amble freely through the streets, staring up as many skirts as was feasible.
Unfortunately for Kon, there were no upskirts when one was dueling to the death. Though, it had to be said, what Kon dreaded most was not his almost certain demise, but Charlotte’s commentary.
“And now for a face-off for the ages!” Charlotte announced. “Aizen-sama, your lordliness, if you could sound the gong?”
Aizen did so, never for a second tearing his line of sight from Ichigo, who was shifting in his seat over in the stands. Ichigo gulped.
START THE FIGHTING!!, screamed the gong.
“If you think you’re gonna make me kiss the pavement, you’ve got another thing coming, pal!”
Mr. Pork landed a solid uppercut on Kon’s gob, and it would have hurt like a motherfucker but for the fact that both our combatants were far too soft and cuddly to inflict any actual damage.
Kon pondered his options. He could maybe sweep the pig’s legs and pin its neck so he could try twisting his adorable plushy head off. Perhaps a double chop to the abdomen followed by a dropkick, or a seismic toss suplex and a claw to each eye?
Upon careful consideration, Kon chose his shrewdest course of action and executed his master plan as Mr. Pork loomed bigger and meaner before him.
It was time to start digging. How long would it be before he fell through the vortex of existence back to Earth? He hoped he landed on some boobs.
Mr. Pork lifted Kon up by the legs and shook him, like a true yakuza. To the Porkster’s surprise, a little pill rolled out of the lion’s mouth.
“Uhh… he stopped moving. Does that mean I win?”
Say yes say yes say yes say yes, thought the pill desperately.
“Aizen-sama, your call!” announced Charlotte.
“The soul remains, inside the pill,” said Aizen. “And anyone whose soul hasn’t been obliterated still has a chance at a comeback, at REVENGE, don’t they? Kurosaki Ichigo.”
Aizen’s hair tendril swung to a point and accused Ichigo.
“I’ve known about you since the day you STARTED TO SUCK!” Ichigo jeered, cupping his hands.
“Sit back down!” said Rukia. “You’re disturbing everyone!”
“HE’S disturbing everyone!” Ichigo shot back.
“Look, you knocked this poor lady’s popcorn out of her hands, you oaf,’ said Rukia.
“Thass not popcorn, cutey. Them’s my teefs!” gummed the old lady contentedly.
“…Oh.” Rukia blushed.
“You okay, grandma?” asked Hitsugaya.
Meanwhile, Mr, Pork picked up the pill, and, unable to put a dent in it, ate it.
What ensued was an epic clash of two intelligences over a single… intelligences? Ha.
The pig doll danced spastically as their souls wrestled for control. (Charlotte misinterpreted this as the pig trying to commit suicide from grief, but that didn’t stop him from playing up the cutesiness of it all).
I’ve got so much to live for! the yakuza wept. I was supposed to meet for tea with my oyabun’s daughter today! Do you know how fine that ass is!?
Kon was overwhelmed by the yakuza’s plaintive perversion, and could not fight on against such a noble character. The pig doll spat up his pill once again.
Mr. Pork pumped his fist to the azure sky, his first true victory in life.
Then Giriko’s timer ticked down to the zero mark and Mr. Pork turned into a pot roast, devoid of life.
“God is great!” Giriko exclaimed, sitting with the rest of the Fullbringers (sans Tsukishima) in the stands. “What? I was hungry.”
ROUND 3: MR. PORK WINS, BUT THEN DIES ANYWAY!!
Aizen pushed the modsoul pill back in Kon’s mouth, as was his duty as officiator.
“Later, you’re going to tell me about what it’s like being in Ichigo’s body,” he whispered.
But Kon knew he had chips in this negotiation. “Only if you tell me the whereabouts of one Tear Harribel.”
The yakuza woke up as a bona fide soul in one of Rukongai’s dingier hovels.
He raised his head weakly and looked around, but he was having trouble making out his surroundings due to the buzzing swarm of hell flies.
Editor-sensei chomped on his cigar and stared blankly at the “name” sketch of the chapter.
“Kubo,” he said at last. “When I told you that a tournament arc would let you use every character, that doesn’t mean you HAVE to use every character. Kon versus the pig guy? Really?”
“It’s a gag chapter,” said Kubo, fingers steepled confidently.
Editor felt like blurting out that every chapter from he received Kubo was a fucking gag chapter, but he was better than that. No--With his next cigar, he would be better than that.
“Okay, fine, Kubo, fine. Just keep in mind that the anime team can fully realize matches you might like to skip in canon! Save some characters for the studio to play with.”
“So you mean the next chapter shouldn’t be Rikichi versus Umesada Toshimori?”
“Next chapter, I want you to be a ratings whore.”
NEXT ROUND: HITSUGAYA VERSUS BARRAGAN