Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 12: Bad Girls Can’t Win
Part 2: I Want My Loli-chan (Revision 2)
Part 2: I Want My Loli-chan (Revision 2)
29 september 2014.
ferry terminal. Willa holds Jennifer and both of them hold Ayla as Team Bremelo wait to catch the #24 bus to school. She’ll separate from them when the #26 Bay Vista arrives to take her to the neighbourhood formerly known as West Park, so she wants to steal a little extra quality time with her daughter-wife. This time she’s wearing a blue sleeveless coatdress, black knee-high flat boots which fail to make her look any less tall, sheer black pantyhose with a fashion-model stripe down the back, and geek-chic cat’s-eye glasses. Some of the people around them furtively stare at Willa and Jennifer as if some grotesque Pretty City reject turned Reality TV star were bringing a Pedobear to school.
Mimi is with them, her eyes still glassy from the shock of losing her best friend so suddenly. Shira pulls her into an embrace and kisses her on the cheek. “You’re looking well, Mimi darling.”
“I need you, Shira. I need all you guys.”
“You don’t have to worry. We’re always here for you.”
Polly gently takes Mimi out of Shira’s arms and hugs her. Ayla runs to join their embrace.
Closer to the Kitsap Conference Center building, they spot a group of clean-looking teenagers and younger twentysomethings wearing MxPx hoodies. “Just look at them,” Jennifer sneers. “They so think they’re ‘kewl.’”
“No, darling, they think they’re ‘hip,’” Willa replies. “But we know they’re nothing of the kind.”
Their little exchange catches the attention of Polly and Mimi. “What was that about?” wonders Mimi.
Willa points to the MxPx crowd. “See those squares in the bunnyhugs?”
“They all have a crude cartoon design on each side. On the front it has the name of the band, MxPx. On the other, it says “Left Coast Punk.” The first time I saw that, I had to groan. Punk rock simply is not supposed to appeal to L7s.”
Polly says, “You were in a punk rock band, weren’t you!”
Jennifer goes, “Ding ding ding!”
Willa’s wink says, You’ve won the Cheezy Prize! Technically, I still am. Technically, the Band with No Name are postpunk’cos I’m there playing electric violin, Keytar, or synth guitar. I wore some pretty outlandish costumes back in the Eighties, making me one of the earliest Stylers in rock. Our fans are mostly either Punkers or Stylers. I used to be Shira’s style coach before she ran away with Wild Style to destinations unknown. These days my default Style is less Wild and more ‘Badass Librarian.’ You can blame the Riot Grrrls for that.”
“You look beautiful in anything, Willa,” says Mimi.
“Why thank you, Mimi. As for them...” She redirects their attention back to the kids in the MxPx hoodies. “We Punkers and Stylers call those people ‘MxPxies.’ True Punks never say the word without spitting, or at least a sneer. I gave ’em the name myself. Right now MxPx are Bremerton’s most famous band, which makes the MxPxies as much a local institution as the Bremeloes who haunt the sailor bars. The point is, there’s only so far you can push straightedge before you go over the line into lamestream square. That line is Christian punk. MxPx invented it.”
“So those punk rock fans are Christian?”
“Of the born-again kind, yes. And if they’re not Christian, they’re at least down with Jesus America.”
Steve asks, “Isn’t rock supposed to be about rebellion?”
“It used to be, till it sold its soul to Colonel Tom and Tin Pan Alley, and turned bloated, decadent, and boringly lamestream. The famous and connected rockers chose to climb the record industry hierarchy and step on those below them; some even abandoned music to go into politics. But some of us stayed underground to keep the fire burning. We’re the ones who survived with our integrity intact when the hammer came down.”
Cory asks, “So why aren’t you rockin” right now?”
“We do, just not live. The new government decided Patriot Country would be the official American music from now on, meaning they’re at the top of the heap right below the MIAA cartel bureaucrats. The lamestream lobstrosities of rock get some play as long as they brown-nose sufficiently. Other than that, rockers and hip-hoppers might as well be blacklisted. ‘Devil’s Music,’ you see.”
Mimi asks, “Didn’t Vice President Palin invent the word ‘lamestream’?”
Willa laughs; Jennifer rolls her eyes. Willa replies, “Mimi darling, I was using that word back when I was eleven. That woman stole it from me.” She winks.
Suddenly, from the direction of the ferry landing, a Japanese-accented woman yells out: “Ai-chan!”
Ayla screams and hides behind Shira. Willa and all the Bremeloes turn to see Nenene Sasakawa stomping toward them angrily, arms crossed tight; her frilly black and purple goth loli dress is fashionably ripped and soiled, her high-heeled black leather boots polished to high gloss, her face smeared with Jokerish pancake makeup, her inky black hair moussed up into a vertical psycho frightwig that would have embarrassed Robert Smith or Siouxsie Sioux and makes her look a foot taller than she is. She is seventeen, Mimi’s age. “Baka no Ai-chan! Koi! Hayaku! Ima!”
“Shira-chan! Tasuketeeee!” cries Ayla as she tries to hide behind Shira.
Shira crosses her arms, shifts her weight onto one leg, and stares at her rival with a cockeyed smile that says You annoy me, go away. “Well, well, well. Hisashiburi neee... Ne-chan.”
Polly looks at Nenene strangely. “You know this creature?”
“Ladies and gentlemen, Team Bremelo and Willa-obachan, allow me to introduce my old frenemy from Shibuya, Nenene Sasakawa. Ayla used to be the pet loli she treated like shit till she ran away from her two Saturdays ago and came to me.”
“Ai-chan mine, bitch. You steal her. I come take my loli-chan back!”
“Noooo!” wails Ayla. “Please don’t!”
“Don’t worry, Ai-chan,” says Shira. “She’s not your slavemaster.” She turns to Willa. “And if it turns out she is, we can always convince a talented and dangerous lawyer we know to change that for Ayla’s benefit.” She winks. To Ayla she says, “Ai-chan, please go to Willa-obachan,” then steps up intimidatingly close to Nenene and looks down at her. “So... Ne-chan.” Ayla hides behind Willa and holds onto her as tight as she can.
“Stop call me ‘Ne-chan’! My name Nenene! Sasakawa-sama to you, bitch!”
Shira looks over her shoulder and says to the Bremeloes, “You know why I call her that, besides her name? She’s way short, and ‘Ne-chan’ means ‘mousie.’ Rabid little rodent, though, don’tcha think?” They laugh.
Nenene looks like she’s about to spit on her. Then she yells at the Bremeloes, “That not first time Shira do this to me! Back in Japan she steal gangster boyfriend!” They gasp and giggle.
“Ah, yes. Koji-kun. One night Koji-kun and I decided entirely on a whim to drop by a love hotel in Chiba; we threw off our clothes and got in bed and he turned out to be a total wash. And he told me he had this fantasy of being a cute girl having his big breasts fondled and sucked by a badass gangster boy. I climbed on top of him, laughed evilly, and you know what I said?”
Shira moves in so her nose is only a few millimeters from Nenene’s and grins evilly. “Nee-chan, okashite yaru ze!” Nenene’s eyes go wide and her jaw drops to the sidewalk. Jennifer, Karen, Seika, Harumi, and Ayla all gasp; Willa slaps her forehead and shakes her head sadly; Cory whoops. Shira turns to them and says, “That means ‘Girl, I’m gonna rape you.’” Polly and Mimi gasp and look at each other; Steve stares at Shira strangely; Kio facepalms; Leila and Robert trade an eager grin and decide they’re really in love with her now.
Nenene growls, “You didn’t.”
Shira grins. “Next thing I did, I whipped out my strap-on, slammed him against the wall, and raped him.”
“Oh my god!” squeak Polly, Mimi, and Karen all at once.
“He loved it so much, he begged me for more! He never got anything like that from Ne-chan here. Speaking of which: Ne-chan, how is Koji-kun these days” You drive him hikikomori again?”
Nenene slaps Shira, making her laugh hard. “I hate you! I no let you steal my loli-chan! Stop laugh at me!” Then she goes to confront the blond woman in the coatdress and cat’s eye glasses who is half a meter taller than her, behind whom Ayla is hiding. She peers up into her face and says, “Who the fuck are you?”
The tall woman smiles sweetly and says, “Willa Richter-Thomas.”
Nenene stares wide-eyed up at Willa for several seconds, then turns away and says weakly, “Chikku-sho.” Then she glares at Shira again, and then she storms off back toward the ferries. “Fine. I go back Japan and find better loli-chan do what I say.” When she reaches the ferry entrance passageway, she turns around and flips Shira an angry middle-finger salute. “I come back fight you at Game Wars tonight! I whip you ass and take back what mine!”
Shira turns around, bends over, flips her skirt up to reveal her thonged butt, slaps a bare cheek three times, and taunts, “Rabu rabu naaaa!”
Nenene stomps angrily into the passageway. Ayla lets go of Willa and runs back into Shira’s arms to hold her tight. Until the buses come, they hear Nenene shouting imprecations and kicking things, then yelling at the ferry terminal attendants when they try to get her to stop her tantrum or leave.
At last the Westside buses arrive and the party must separate. After the #24 empties, the Bremeloes hop on. Ayla begs, “Shira-chan, please don’t go!”
“Sorry, Ai-chan, but we have to go to school. You need to go with Willa-obachan.” Shira kisses her.
Willa comes over and takes Ayla gently by the hand. “It’s okay, Ayla. I love you.”
Reluctantly, Ayla lets go of Shira and puts her arms around Willa. Shira waves goodbye and blows Ayla a kiss.
Ayla waves back. “’Bye, Shira-chan! Ai shiteru yo!”
Willa leads Ayla to the #26; Shira leaps onto the #24 to join the others just in time for the door to close.
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