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This falls into the category of, "What happens when you talk story ideas with folks while on an upset stomach". Gomen nasai. Sailor Moon belongs to lots of folks that ain't me. If any of them read this, I'm a dead man.
Minako burst into the temple. Rei and Usagi stared at the out-of-breath girl. "You guys are not going to believe this! We've got another protector!" Rei looked at the Senshi of Venus somewhat skeptically. "Another protector? You mean like Tuxedo Kamen? Are you sure about this, Minako?" The blonde nodded her head so vigorously she reminded Rei of one of those bobbing-dog statues. "Yup. He showed up and drove off a Youma that had me and Ami pinned." "Okay, but that doesn't mean he's a protector...." "No? How about this, then? He wears concealing eyewear and evening clothes, strikes funky poses _and_ has background music!" Usagi jumped up with a squeal. "Ooohh!! I'm so lucky to have so many hunks out there, protecting me!" Rei couldn't let that one go past. "What makes you so sure he's here for you, anyway? Maybe one of _us_ is going to--" "Oh, like he's going to pick you? I don't think--" The impending cat-fight was averted by the frantic beeping of all three's communicators. "Guys! Help!" came Ami's voice. "Makoto and I are in Nerima, and we're getting beat, badly. Hurry!" The transmission was cut short when a nasty looking black energy swept across the screen. The three girls mobilized quickly.
*************************** Usagi grimaced. The fight was going poorly. The Youma had turned out to be a necromancer, able to animate corpses. It had worn them down with one wave after another of the residents of the pet cemetery they had been fighting in. It was down to her and Rei, and they were cornered against a mausoleum by the skinned zombie of a panda. Suddenly, a projectile screeched across the panda's path and it crumpled to the ground. Usagi stared at the object now embedded in the soil: a portable microphone? She traced the trajectory back (she could do that, even if she couldn't spell "trajectory" right), and her eyes fell on their savior.... He was clad all in white and gold. A white shirt, open to the waist, exposing chest hair and a plethora of gold necklaces. White power-flare bell-bottoms with a gold-buckled white belt. White patent-leather shoes and gaudy gold rings. He stared at her through his gold-rimmed sunglasses. "Yo, babe! You've got to believe in yourself, if you want to be Stayin' Alive!" he cried, striking a pose, finger pointing at the sky. "I'm with ya, toots, for I am... Polyester Kamen!" As the disco beat arose in the background, Usagi leaned over to Rei and whispered, "You can have this one...."
******
End
I'm really going to Hell for this one, aren't I?
--Freemage
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The bizarre... okay, _one_ of the bizarre things about this fic was how many different interpretations there were of Polyester Kamen in the replies I got to this. One thought I was referencing Elton John, another figured it was Elvis, and I, myself, was thinking of John Travolta, circa "Staying Alive".
Scary to think of all that hideous fashion in one decade, ain't it?
--Freemage
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