Despite the hordes of young Japanese yakuza chasing her down the dark streets of Kyoto, there was one thing in sixteen-year-old Rebecca Maryland Wolfe's mind:
Doesn't she ever shut-up?
She was referring to Sofie Fatale, a woman of East Asian and French descent yakking away on largish Motorola cellular phone, who, for some inexplicable reason, looked almost like Julie Dreyfus.
Rebecca, or Becky as many others call her, was a spry teenager. She was quite tall, and probably will remain at her height since she was close to the end of her puberty. She liked dressing in dark and grunge like clothes prevalent in Seattle (though right now she was in a gothic maid outfit). Her hair was cut short, very tomboyish. Still, she retained that feminine charm and the necessary seductiveness to attract ladies of all ages. In addition to her two normal ears, she also had, along with a wolf's tail, two wolf ears on the top of her head just like her family back home.
Becky was hired a while ago by the brother of a slain Yakuza boss to kill the Chinese-Japanese and cross-eyed O-Ren Ishii. Besides needing the yen for travel expenses, she also wanted to make full use of the secret techniques Azuma Sensei taught not too long ago.
She thought it was simple job; dress herself like cat girl in a maid outfit and infiltrate O-Ren's private party held at a local disco while posing as an exotic dancer for the otaku types. Although her performance was sloppy, it actually put a smile on O-Ren's bodyguard Gogo Yubari's creepy face. Actually, as Becky found out, she could no longer complete the mission. The matron-like O-Ren revealed to Becky that her men, the Crazy 88s, had already killed her client. To add insult to injury, O-Ren called her Olde Wolfe Ears.
Becky was only sixteen, and that deeply pissed her off. Then again, she kind of looked like an adult in a maid outfit instead of a schoolgirl. Perhaps she should have chosen to dress up as a Japanese schoolgirl in a sailor uniform.
Of course, O-Ren's gang had laid out the trap specifically for Becky, but they underestimated her. Slashing her way through the Kato or Zorro-masked Crazy 88s (there were not really eighty-eight; they were short one), she escaped the disco was now running down the dark streets of Kyoto at midnight. The attacks of the leader Johnny Mo and Gogo's attacks were relentless, and some times their blades and morning star ball struck one of their own. Becky survived out of sheer luck and due to the fact that none of them used any guns. Thank Kami-sama for the heavy restriction of firearms in Japan.
Little did she know that she was being watched by third party.
She picked a random building and crashed through the boarded windows. Inside an abandoned warehouse, as it would seem, she ran directly to the middle of the building as the Crazy 88s surrounded outside and then simultaneously broke in.
Beck gripped her most prized gift, the legendary Shinseiki tighter in her palms, ready to mow down more Yakuza goons.
"Little girls shouldn't play with dangerous knives," said a voice, in English--UK English.
Her mind was still in Japanese language mode, but this surprised her nonetheless. Becky swung her sword at the three human shadows, but was blocked by three surgical knives behind held in one hand between the fingers. Refocusing her eyes, she came face-to-face at a handsome Orthodox Jewish man with blue eyes. Besides him was a woman in an active business suit and leather gloves. She would be the prettiest one Becky had ever seen if it weren't for one glaring blemish--she had herpes all over her mouth.
Behind those two was a tall and very muscular tanned man wearing a very revealing pink singlet, but upon closer inspection, the man turned out to be a woman with a ponytail mullet and pink-rimed sunglasses. Even in this darkness Becky could see her tan lines.
"Looks like you put yourself in a sticky situation mate," said the British Jew.
"You really pissed off Ishii," said the herpes-faced woman.
Becky backed away, and said, "I can take care of this!"
"Unh!" grunted to muscle-bound woman.
"The Butch is right," said the Jew. "We'd got to get her out of this mess."
"Carmen seems to like you for some reason," smiled the herpes woman.
The three fanned out and disappeared into the shadows. Right as the Crazy 88s closed in on Becky, chaos ensued. Becky fought off the stragglers as the three strange strangers beat up and scare the young Yakuza.
The herpes woman scared all of them, especially the males. She took off her gloves to reveal horrible herpes blemishes on her hands and slapped all of her opponents with karate chops. They were sent running away in horror.
The Butch simply smashed and punched out the lights of her opponents. With her fingertips, she even snapped the blades of the Crazy 88s' cheaply made Katanas.
The British Jew was most particularly interesting. His method of attack was a seemingly endless supply of surgical knives he threw en masse. But not once did he strike the vitals of his targets. Instead, his knives pierced the men's groin area and sometimes shred their belts, pants, and underwear into pieces. With their pants down and shaking in fear, the Crazy 88s waddled backwards and away from the grinning British Jew.
"If I was more serious," he said, in Japanese, "I would have lobbed off more than your trousers."
Sensing that they were outmatched, Johnny Mo and Gogo Yubari called off their underlings and retreated.
At the end of the battle, Becky had killed ten men out of self-defense, yet her three compatriots did not kill one let alone wounded them with serious intent. They were either good at fighting, or were told specifically not to kill anyone.
"Carmen might be able to train you to use your sword for non-fatal battles," said the British Jew.
"It's a katana, the Shinseiki," said Becky. "It's meant to cut things, and it is inevitable that something will get lobbed off in battle."
"You don't see me circumcising men's penises so gorily."
"Or it could be that you're coward."
"Anyway, it is high time that we introduce ourselves. I am Sir Kim Zishun. To my left is Sharon Herpes..."
"Hello," waved Sharon.
"...and to my right is The Butch."
"Unh!" grunted The Butch.
"She says 'It is a pleasure to meet you mademoiselle'," said Sharon.
"How the hell did you translate that from just one grunt?" asked Becky.
"One syllable, mate," corrected Kim. "One syllable."
"She's from the country of Butcharest somewhere in Eastern Europe," said Sharon. "It is where the men are four feet tall on average and skinny, and where the women are six-foot five inches tall on average and heavily muscular."
"She speaks entirely in Butchese."
"Then why can't she speak other languages, like English?" Becky asked.
"Unh!" said The Butch.
"She says that she doesn't speak other languages because her accent is greatly atrocious," said Kim.
"Therefore, we decided to speak and understand her language in our organization," said Sharon.
"How thoughtful," said Becky.
"Unh!" said The Butch.
"Say, what is your name?" asked Sharon.
"Rebecca Maryland Wolfe," said Becky. "But just call me Becky."
"Becky, would you mind if you came with us?" Kim asked.
"Nah. I got things to do."
"I hear that you need money for your travel expenses. Carmen will be more than happy to take you anywhere in the world."
"Thank but no thanks. I can get it on my own."
"But she really wants to see you. Could you at least grant Miss Sandiego's request to see her?"
"Miss Sandiego?"
"Carmen Sandiego."
Becky thought for a moment. She knew who Carmen Sandiego was. In this world, she wasn't a video game character. She was real, and she was still wanted after the incident with the industrialist Malcolm Avalon. Her further exploits were kept secret from the public by the ACME Detective Agency in order to prevent panic to the rest of world, especially when they coincide with rising fears of international terrorism.
"There isn't any catch?" Becky asked.
"Of course not," replied Kim.
"We're not forcing you to join," added Sharon.
"Unh!" said The Butch.
"We just want to you to see Carmen, that's all," said Kim.
"Okay then," said Becky. "At least this will get me off the island."
Becky sheathed her Shinseiki and walked outside of the abandoned warehouse with Sir Kim Zishun, Sharon Herpes, and The Butch.
In no time, a squad of dark Mercedes sedans surrounding a limousine arrived before them. The rear door of limo opened before Becky and the others, and out stepped a woman that Becky became enamored with at first sight.
She had black flowing hair, and wore red lipstick. A wide-brimmed red fedora hat topped her head, and her red trench was worn so that it could expose her smooth sexy legs and her red-heeled shoes. Was she European? Turkish? Or Arabic? It was hard to say. She was middle aged, and yet she posses and irresistible yet seductive motherly charisma that won the utmost loyalty of her subordinates.
Becky's wolf ears stiffed, and her heart fluttered. The woman extended her naked right hand to Becky with earnest, and Becky took it without hesitation. Now more than ever she wanted to go with the great master thief Carmen Sandiego.
"Just to let you know," said Kim, "she's not naked underneath that coat."
Becky blushed. She immediately covered her mouth to hide her embarrassed smile. Carmen smiled and chuckled a bit in order to ease Becky's predicament. Then she led Becky into the limousine and off to a new direction.