Channel Surfing
by Jason C. Ulloa

Preview

There once was a man from Nantucket.

Okay, so he wasn't really from Nantucket as much as he's really from Albuquerque.

...

...right.

So, the point is that this guy had an idea. An idea so great in magnitude, so vast in importance, so deep in brilliance that it could change the world as everyone knew it.

But since the cost of launching all the world's morons, idiots, and complete assholes into space was more than he could afford, the wonderful idea - codenamed Operation: Get Off My Planet - was put on hold indefinitely.

With his great master plan in shambles, the young man sat down in front of his computer, booted it up, and proceeded to work on his various stories and/or watch some anime. Anything to get his mind off of the disappointment of his great failure.

"It's not a failure! Only a minor setback!"

Oh, and one more thing. The young man was also a stubborn little cuss.

"I resent that!"

Resent what?

"Being called 'little'! I'm not that short!"

You're not that tall, either.

"Shut up!"

-sigh- Anyway, as this young man-

"I have a name, you know."

Look, we're in the middle of a story, here. Must you keep interrupting?

"Sorry."

Fine. Anyway, as this young man sat typing and/or-

"And."

Do you want to tell this story?

"What are you talking about? I can't tell this story and be in it at the same time!"

Then, SHUT THE HELL UP, ALREADY!

"Eep!"

-sigh- Fine, typing AND watching anime. Whatever. So, while the guy's doing both at the same time, he accidentally spills some Diet Dr. Pepper on his computer.

"Hell, no! I'd never drink Diet Dr. Pepper!"

Diet Coke, then? How about Diet Pepsi?

"Not Diet ANYTHING! Diet sodas are EVIL! Drinks of the Devil! I would never allow one within 50 feet of my computer!"

Too bad. I'm telling the story here, and you've just spilled Diet Dr. Pepper on your computer. Live with it.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

Meh, heh, heh.

"You're evil, you know."

At any rate, since no one truly knows how Diet Dr. Pepper tastes like regular Dr. Pepper - NO COMMENTS FROM THE PEANUT GALLERY! -

"..."

- the spilled diet soda began to react strangely with the electrical components inside. And everyone knows what happens when you spill diet soda into a computer.

"Aw, crap."

Yes, that's right. A hole was ripped in time and space, sucking the young man into the wormhole.

"Hey! Wait a min-" -sloop-

Sorry, boyo. My story, my rules.

BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!


With a loud, echoing thud, the young man landed on a hard surface and died.

Okay, he didn't die, so much as bruise his ass and whack his head, developing a sharp headache in the process, but the point is that he was currently desiring some pain relievers in massive quantities.

"Ungh...," the young man groaned as he slowly rose to his feet and took in his surroundings while gingerly feeling the back of his head for any serious injuries. Finding no sign of blood made him feel better, but his head still hurt like hell.

"Where the hell am I?" he muttered irritably to himself as he scanned his surrounding for any signs of life. Of course, when one's surroundings consists entirely of the color white, one can expect to become slightly irritable.

There was nothing but white everywhere. White air, white floor, and white in between. Just a whole lot of white. Really. Close your eyes for a moment. See all that black? Pretend it's all white, and you get the idea. That's a lot of white, man.

"Hello?" the young man called out tentatively. "Anyone here?"

Nothing but the sound of his voice, echoing as if in a large, empty room.

He couldn't resist. "I need guns."

Suddenly, a pair of gun racks, stretching as far as the eye could see shot across his view, as well as behind him. "Sweet," he smirked, amused at how similar the effect was to a certain movie he had seen a while back. Glancing down at himself, he noted that he was now wearing a long, black duster jacket, black trousers and a black shirt, with a pair of dark sunglasses.

Glancing over the various armaments displayed, his gaze caught on something that seemed a little out of place. "The hell? The summoning gun from Final Fantasy Unlimited? Mimette's gun from Sailor Moon? A Galaxy Police handgun from Tenchi Muyo? Claude's phase gun from Star Ocean: Second Story?" He turned around to look at the rack behind him; his sunglasses dropping off his nose in the process.

"Barret's arm gun from Final Fantasy VII?" he continued, deftly snatching the sunglasses before they could hit the ground and replacing them without missing a beat. "The Noisy Cricket from Men in Black? A Magdalene Order handgun from Chrono Crusade? A giant revolver from Patlabor? What the hell?"

"Enjoying my collection?"

"Eh?" the young man exclaimed, whirling around toward the sound of the voice, and causing the sunglasses to fly off his nose once again. Maybe he should've opted for the ones with ear frames.

"You should see my sword collection," the voice said again as the gun racks disappeared. A robed figure slowly faded into view, his face hidden underneath the hood of his robes. At least, the young man thought the figure was male. The voice sounded masculine, at least.

"Who are you?" the young man asked uneasily, trying to ignore the fact that the hooded figure reminded him way too much of a certain emperor of a certain empire in a certain galaxy far, far away. The fact that the figure was sitting cross-legged and hovering in midair with a crystal ball in his lap was also a bit disconcerting.

"That would take a while to explain...," the figure began.

"Well, unless you know how I can get back home, it doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere for the time being," the young man replied.

"I see...," the hooded figure replied thoughtfully. "Let me guess; you spilled Diet Dr. Pepper on your computer, thereby ripping a hole in time and space, and arrived here by falling through a wormhole. Am I wrong?"

The young man blinked dumbly. "Should I ask how you know that?" A thick book appeared in midair from out of nowhere and landed on the young man's head with a loud thud. "Ow!" he shouted as the book dropped from his head and into his hands. "'Channel Surfing: Script'? You know, I think I've seen this gag done before."

"You should remember it," the figure said, amused. "You wrote it, Jason."


The story will pause for a brief moment while the readers roll their eyes in vexation at the author for his trite, shameless, and extremely obvious self-insertion.

/Insert pause here/

The story will now resume. Thank you.


"Did you have to put in that last bit, Jason?" the robed figure asked dryly.

"What are you talking about? I've been here the whole time, remember?" Jason retorted.

"Well, you see, this place is a nexus of sorts," the figure explained. "Think of it as a crossroads between universes and realities, if you will. Your reality is but one of many that cross this point in time and space."

"And how does that explain the book?"

"In a reality parallel to your own, you wrote this story," the figure continued as he floated forward and tapped the book. Or rather, he tapped the name of the author of the book.

"Jason C. Ulloa," he said with a grimace. "So, what you're telling me is that all my actions are being dictated by what's in this book?"

"I wouldn't look in there if I were you," the figure warned.

"You're not me."

"True enough. But don't say I didn't warn you. Turn to page 6."

Jason flipped to page 6 and started reading. "The hell?" he exclaimed. "'Jason flips to page 6 and starts reading. "The hell?" he exclaims. "'Jason flips to page 6 and starts reading. "The hell?" he exclaims. "'Jason flips to-'"'"'"'" He quickly slammed the book closed.

"I warned you."

"Bite me," he retorted flatly.

"Infinite loops are never pretty. I once saw a man lose his mind that way. He got stuck reading his actions over and over until he starved to death. Apparently, the book never said that he went to get something to eat."

Jason flung the book down on the floor. "Okay, I've had enough. If you don't have anyway for me to get home, then I'm leaving."

The hooded figure sighed patiently. "I'm surprised you haven't recognized me yet, Jason."

"If you tell me you're Darth Sidious or Wiseman, then I'm definitely leaving."

"Far from it," the figure replied. "Does 'The Question series' sound familiar?"

Jason blinked as realization sunk in. "You!"

The figure nodded. "Yes, me."

"By the way, how did the series turn out?"

The figure sweatdropped. "Don't worry about that. At any rate, there's something I need you to look at."

"Really, now?" he said curiously. "What's that?"

The hooded figure pointed somewhere behind the young man. Jason turned around and blinked as his gaze fell upon a 38" wide screen TV sitting in front of a red couch and surrounded by an array of large speakers. "I can't seem to hook up my TV to my Dolby Surround Sound system."

Jason had never experienced facefaulting before. It felt oddly therapeutic.


Three hours later...

"It's about damn time. I mean, I even gave you the instructions."

"Oh, shut up. It would've done a lot faster if the damn instructions had been in English instead of Korean! Besides, that TV has way too many output jacks. Where the hell did you get that thing?"

The figure pointed to the brand name displayed at the top of the TV. And of course, the name was completely undecipherable. "Don't tell me. The alien version of HDTV?"

"Close enough. What's wrong with a little challenge?" he added, noting Jason's slightly cross look.

"Forget it," he grumbled as he hopped on the couch. "So, tell me. Is this what you do when you're not viewing alternate realities?"

"Actually, my crystal ball broke a couple of decades back," the figure explained as he descended upon the other side of the couch. "This's my replacement."

Jason blinked again. "You don't say."

"Hey, I've got an idea," the figure suddenly said as he tossed a long black device over to him. "Here. Why don't you give it a try?"

"Hmm...," he said as he looked over the device. It looked like a TV remote, but there were hundreds of buttons and many of them were in characters he didn't recognize. "Got one in English?"

"Wait a minute." The figure waved a hand, causing Jason to feel a strange tingling sensation in his head, not unlike the sensation of his head filling with water or something. It feel weird, but not a bad kind of weird. "There."

"I know Kung Fu."

"Whoops. Wrong one." Another wave, another tingling sensation.

"Hey, I can read what's on the remote now!"

"All right, then," the figure said as he leaned back into the couch, or at least gave the impression of leaning back, even as he continued to float an inch or so over the couch. "Fire away."

With a flick of the wrist, Jason turned the TV on and sat back as the first images came to life on the screen.

And of course, it was a commercial.

"Hey, that reminds of this commercial where one guy wants to watch one thing, and another guy wants to watch something else, so they smack the TV with a beer bottle and blend the two together to get something really weird," Jason commented.

"Hmm... You don't say?"

"Yeah. It's too bad that you can't... do that... here...," he trailed off as an idea came to mind.

"Will root beer do? I can't drink on the job."

"Sure, that'll do," Jason said as he took the root beer bottle and smacked the TV.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe we should've specified what we wanted to see?" the figure speculated.

"I guess we could give it a try," Jason agreed. "I'll go first. I choose Sailor Moon."

"I choose Power Rangers."

Jason snickered as he smacked the TV with the root beer bottle. "I have a feeling this's gonna be good," he laughed as the TV fizzled for a moment, then changed channels.


Author's Note: Sailor Moon's always been a Magical Girl anime with elements of the Sentai genre in it. Haven't you always wondered what would happen if you upped the amount of Sentai elements in it? On another note, this story's my second foray into the humor/parody genre. I felt I did a good enough job with A Grail? to warrant another humor piece, and this's it. Hope you like it. The idea for the story is quite simple; anything with anything. As long as one series is an anime, I'll cross it over with anything. Well, almost anything, as with somethings I'd have to do a lot of research in order to do, but if I can do it, I'll do it, whatever it is.

One more thing: I'm using a new method for writing this story - chapters by popular vote. In other words, you tell me what to write for my next chapter. In order to save the review section from being bombarded with crossover requests, I've set up a LiveJournal blog in order to take the requests:

www(dot)livejournal(dot)com/users/a(underscore)wise(underscore)guy/

If you want me to write it, let me know.

Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended. This story belongs me, so I would appreciate it very much if you would ask for permission before posting it anywhere else. Thank you.

Copyright © 2005 Jason C. Ulloa.
All Rights Reserved.