Disclaimers: Forever Knight and its characters are the property of Sony, Iron Chef and its character belong to Fuji International. Thanks to Nancy Kaminski and High Priestess Jules for being naughty influences and encouraging this silly idea. Kyoo No Tema Wa Kore Desu...! (Today's Theme Is...!) (1/5) A Forever Knight/Iron Chef Crossover By Bonnie Rutledge Copyright 2002 "Tell me what you eat, and I'll tell you what you are." - Brillat-Savarin Five years ago, a man's fantasy became reality in a form never seen before: a giant cooking arena - Kitchen Stadium. The motivation for spending his fortune to create Kitchen Stadium was to encounter new, original cuisines which could be called true, artistic creations. To realize his dream, he first secretly started selecting the top chefs of various styles of cooking, and he named his men the 'Iron Chefs' - the invincible men of cooking skills. Kitchen Stadium is the arena where Iron Chefs await the challenges of master chefs from around the globe. Both the Iron Chef and Challenger have one hour to tackle the theme ingredient of the day. Using all their senses, skills, creativity, they are to prepare artistic dishes never tasted before. And if ever a Challenger wins over the Iron Chef, he or she will gain the people's ovation and fame forever. Kitchen Stadium is the arena where you will meet the master chefs from around the world and their artistic creations. What inspiration will today's Challenger bring, and how will the Iron Chef fight back? The heat will be on! Chairman Kaga sat thoughtfully in his study, reflecting over the newspaper clipping cradled in his hands, cut from the Toronto Star. "Toronto...If memory serves me correctly, it is a foreign city, thriving with Canadians, 42 of them actors. Word has reached me of an unusual man currently living in Toronto who would be a perfect challenger in my Kitchen Stadium...Those who speak openly of this man's prowess hail his skill as a Homicide Detective in the Metro Toronto Police Department, but the hushed whispers drifting from the darkest corners of Canadian nightlife relate a different story. These voices speak of a man who bucks tradition, who has shunned many years indulging in the finest delicacies and morsels available in vampire flavorings in favor of pursuing a controversial experimental palate fusing elements of both mortal and immortal feasts. This rebellion against convention has earned him the title 'The Crusader of Vampire Cuisine.' Now, he comes to my Kitchen Stadium, rewriting the law of Vampire cooking, waging his war against one of my Iron Chefs!" TODAY'S CHALLENGER: NICK KNIGHT (Vampire, Homicide Detective, Doctor, Professor of Archaeology, Artist, Philanthropist, Cadillac and Piano Enthusiast) Picture Nick in action, a gritty still in tones of gray catching the vampire detective holding his gun at the ready as he hunts a perpetrator on the streets of Toronto. "Nick Knight...He was brought across in 1228..." Flash to a new image, this one a softer portrait capturing Janette leaning over Nicholas as he reclines on a bed. "Preyed on humans for their blood..." See Nick posed mid-strike, fangs bared over the tender throat of an impending victim. "Now he wants to be mortal again..." Another image: Nick reaching out an arm encased in chain mail toward a cross, his touch erupting in flames. "To repay society for his sins..." We see a photo of Nick standing straight now, holding his police identification aloft for inspection, a stern look in his eyes. "To emerge from his world of darkness..." One last picture, and for no discernable reason, it is of Chairman Kaga dressed in a suit with a cow motif, chomping a yellow bell pepper. "And his endless, forever night! Detective Nick Knight - can you stand up to the challenge of Kitchen Stadium? Can you emerge from your culinary battle the crusading champion, or will you detect a forever, crushing defeat?" Somehow, you get the feeling that this wasn't the precise question that led up to the interview clip featuring Nick that appears next. He looked confident and full of good humor in the setting of his loft, his eyes twinkling as he confessed, "I'm not much of a cook, really." Nick held up his universal remote control and gave the camera a conspiratorial wink. "I've been watching the Food Network plenty. I'll do my best to make something edible." After a second, his smile faltered. "Uh, I don't have to actually eat my own cooking, right?" A low- voiced 'No' came from off-camera, causing Nick's full smile to sunburst forth again. Interview clip over, you see Chairman Kaga step into Kitchen Stadium. In a close-up shot, it's obvious his shoes are on the sensible side, but polished into a brilliant sheen to make up for practicality. The camera shifted its scope after a few moments on the shiny, sensible shoes, allowing all to be dazzled by Kaga's amazed expression as well as the thousand bugle beads detailing his bolero jacket that glint blindingly beneath the stage-show lighting no matter what angle from which he's studied. Yes, you must study him from *every* angle before the show can continue. (Wow! He'd whup Arnold J. Rimmer in the Mr. Flared Nostrils contest for sure!) Now the cameraman must have gotten very excited, for the view suddenly hopped about Kitchen Stadium with less restraint than a monkey on a pogo stick in order to feature spots of every culinary luxury available in your finer kitchen storehouse, and we aren't talking Food Lion or Albertson's. Understandably, Chairman Kaga got the munchies confronted by this tremendous bounty of groceries. So, from among the freshly-netted fish, free-range poultry, tapped wine ambrosia, fruits from small islands in the Pacific, the thousand-dollars-a- can caviar, cheeses flown in fresh from French monasteries, and the rare flesh of animals that bounce, from this dazzling array of options, he chose a perfect yellow bell pepper. Another yellow bell pepper. Not red. Not green. (Though they were at his disposal). Yellow. Go figure. His features intense, the Chairman lifted the yellow bell pepper to his mouth, opened his jaws wide (hmm, no fangs) and took a huge bite. As he proceeded to chew, immense mystifying satisfaction spread across Kaga's expression. (Raw bell peppers must taste different in Japan. Spiked with vodka, maybe, Either that, or Kaga's just realized he's getting a tax refund.) This is... RYORI NO TETSUJIN = IRON CHEF!!!!!!! Opening pleasantries almost over, Takeshi Kaga (Chairman, Gourmet Academy) made his formal introduction to the Stadium audience. "Today's Challenger is a renegade, crusading against old ideas of what ingredients must necessarily compose Vampire cuisine. He constantly tests himself, striving against the notion of limitations, and I am honored to offer him the test of Kitchen Stadium...From Toronto...Nick Knight!" The voice of the commentator rang cheerful and excited, almost sounding like he's talking over a mouthful of souvlaki. "Now entering Kitchen Stadium...the Challenger Nick Knight, looking pretty keen to be part of a cooking competition despite research showing that he has only eaten actual food five times in the past six years." Nick seemed slightly surprised by the degree of fanfare among the audience, but he took it modestly and in his stride. Once Nick proceeded down the middle of the two kitchens and joined Kaga, the Chairman nodded, shook Nick's hand, then said in a respectful tone, "Knight-san, welcome. Some say you are rebel among the Vampire Community?" Nick didn't immediately become defensive. Instead, he stated in a firm voice, "I'm only choosing what I think is right for me. I wouldn't say that's rebellion as much as it's free will." Kaga nodded again. "I wish you luck today, and fortune in the future with your quest." Nick nodded in return, obviously heartened by the Chairman's words. Clearly Kaga was a decent guy once you got past the yellow bell pepper fetish and the worrisome evidence that he was building an army of mortals who wore tall hats. "Thank you." Suddenly Kaga's expression became steely. No more Mr. Nice Chairman! "It's time to meet the Iron Chefs. I summon you Iron Chefs! Yomigaru Iron Chef!" A platform began to rise at the Chairman's command, lifting those Champions of Kitchen Stadium - the Iron Chefs - into prominence for all the guests and the audience to see. Iron Chef Japanese sported his usual silver regalia with red trim, a wayward diamond stud sparkling in one ear. The mustachioed Iron Chef French wore red and posed with a ripe pear in one hand. Dressed in gold like culinary royalty, Iron Chef Chinese brandished his cleaver, ready for action. The fourth spot of honor had a blown-up image for its backdrop of a man dressed in an outfit resembling a red, green and white flag from southern Europe, but there was no matching Iron Chef Italian waiting there, cupping a tomato to symbolize his cuisine of choice as he prepared for battle. In his place stood a deathly pale, but authoritative man clad in a black Armani suit, his fingers steepled in front of his chest, his smile that of a Cheshire Cat. Chairman Kaga's expression became smug as he noted Nick's surprise. "I see you recognize Kitchen Stadium's newest Champion - Iron Chef Vampire, Lucien LaCroix!" Nick's eyes glazed momentarily, as if his thoughts were long ago and far away, then his gaze cleared, focusing with determined purpose. "Yes, I recognize him." The Chairman gestured elegantly toward the platform of honor. "You are the Crusader of Vampire Cuisine. Tonight, perhaps your quest will taste the sweet sake of victory! Four Iron Chefs await your challenge - which will it be?" Nick's voice rang fiercely, almost accusatory. "LaCroix-san!" IRON CHEF VAMPIRE - LUCIEN LACROIX (Vampire, Radio Personality, Roman General) A picture flashes: LaCroix in a toga, shaking his fist at a pantheon of gods that hold no dominion over his life or death. "Lucien LaCroix...Sometimes called 'General' because of his command over vampire skills and techniques. He rose from the Roman army and the ashes of Pompeii to become one of the oldest and most powerful forces in the immortal scene." Switch to a medieval portrait, one of LaCroix willing Nick to kiss his ring in fealty and obedience. "So great is the influence of LaCroix that he is, in fact, responsible for encouraging tonight's Challenger down the path of Vampire cuisine, though he admits to not teaching Nick Knight all of his secrets." Now examine the fresh tableau: LaCroix enraged, his fangs mid-snarl, as Nick impales him with a burning stake. Ouch. "The General is adamant that the Challenger has made a terrible mistake in abandoning tradition. He dismisses Knight's current fusion of vampire and mortal styles as a recipe for disaster." The final shot: a meditative, all-knowing LaCroix, as framed in a CERK publicity photo...with love. "LaCroix-san has it all: unrivalled culinary experience, poetic oratory, a poison ring - and most of all - an Iron Will fit for an Iron Chef!" "Man, oh man!" The identity of the commentator finally becomes clear as we see Donald Schanke (Homicide Detective) scratching his head. "Who let that guy in here? I was hoping for some Pasta Primavera with a little Chianti!" Schanke made a grumpy face, then turned his attention toward the other commentators. "What do you guys think? What happened to Iron Chef Italian?" Javier Vachon (Vampire, No Known Means Of Support), acting as the culinary expert this evening, simply shrugged. "Vampire cuisine isn't big on garlic." Schanke appeared incredulous, especially as the remainder of his souvlaki had mysteriously disappeared. He'd forgotten where he'd put it, and that's all he remembered. "Sounds inhuman to me. Garlic's the greatest! What about you, Janette? You're one of our honored guest tasters tonight. Are you surprised that the dishes will be low on the garlic quotient?" Janette DuCharme (Vampire, Club Owner & Hostess) gave a secret smile. "No, Schanke. I expected something like this to happen. Even eternity is too short for stinky bulbs." "Well, you must not be Polish-Italian. To me, the stink says 'Love'!" Schanke pattered. "It's time for the Chairman to unveil tonight's ingredient, and the consensus so far from Kitchen Stadium is it's not garlic! Anyone wanna bet ten against kumquats?" Nick and LaCroix now standing side by side in front of him, Chairman Kaga wiggled his eyebrows, then philosophically held up one of his gloved hands. "Today's ingredient was a natural choice." The Chairman motioned broadly in the direction of each competitor. "One, the Crusader...One, the General...What else could serve this battlefield? My chosen item is precious, costly to prepare, but abundant whatever the season. We unveil the ingredient! Kyoo no tema wa kore desu..." Kaga's arms swept maniacally over his head as a platform descended from the ceiling of Kitchen Stadium. "KETSUEKI!!!!" "Huh?" Schanke blurted from the sidelines. "What's that? Did he just say 'cat sweat' is today's theme ingredient?" "Ketsueki," Vachon repeated patiently. "That's Japanese for 'blood,' Schanke." Any focus on Schanke's queasy look was cut short by Chairman Kaga's deep reflection concerning his chosen highlight for today's dishes: "If my memory serves me correctly, there is a traditional saying concerning the preparation of this ingredient in Vampire cuisine. 'Suck the morning sun of summer.' Blood gourmets know that the most desirable extracts from the circulation perfectly reflect the ripe heat of an August afternoon in Kyoto prefecture - between 98 and 100 degrees Fahrenheit. To suck the sun of the morning echoes what even the novice Vampire cook understands - that the most pleasing drops of blood to the connoisseur's palate are the freshest. With time, even the most expertly heated blood loses its intensity and emotional body. So, when hunting the best blood for your next meal, beware the stale and cold remnants and remember to 'suck the morning sun of summer.'" With this, Chaiman Kaga clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Allez cuisine!" (At least that's what Vachon told Schanke the Chairman had said, despite Kaga's exclamation sounding more like a sneezing Pug than anything French. Since Nick and LaCroix both immediately dashed into action, and so Janette wouldn't think him uncultured, Schanke decided to believe the Spaniard in spite his better judgment.) IRON CHEF - BLOOD BATTLE NICK KNIGHT V. LUCIEN LACROIX ********************************************************** End of Part One The Nightcrawler monologue quote is from English poet Geoffrey Hill. Kyoo No Tema Wa Kore Desu...! (Today's Theme Is...!) (2/5) A Forever Knight/Iron Chef Crossover By Bonnie Rutledge Copyright 2002 "I guess that means the Blood Battle is officially underway on this special edition of Iron Chef. Each competitor has exactly one hour to create a full course meal. Whoever's dishes best reflects the flavor of the theme ingredient to the panel of judges wins." Schanke flexed one fist instinctively, as if to derive comfort from an imaginary souvlaki friend. "Blood. Who the hell knows how to make a meal out of that?!?!" "Blood is the primary ingredient in Vampire cooking," Janette said knowingly. "Yeah," Schanke allowed, "but what about people other than your garden variety damned?" Seeing Janette's eyes flash hotly - garden variety?!??!?! - Vachon intercepted her ensuing retort/murderous impulse by offering helpfully, "Blood has also been used in foods by the people of Ireland, Alsace, and Estonia. Tribes have consumed blood in order to live throughout history, from the Mongols of yesteryear to today's Masai." "Yeah, yeah - give me nachos any day," Schanke vowed. "Our view of the variety of theme ingredient provided by the Gourmet Academy tonight isn't the best, but I'd say a good portion of it is still alive and squirming! Maybe we can get some more details from the floor...?" "Excuse me, Detective Schanke?" The view shifted again, now centering upon Tracy Vetter, standing in front of a bunch of buxom women of low virtue who were artfully arranged on the ingredient table in between several crates of glass bottles. "Yes, Vetter, what do ya know?" Tracy was holding a microphone in one hand and her casebook in the other. She squinted as she tried to decipher her rushed scribblings. "I asked the Chairman for a description of the theme ingredient provided for the Challenger and Iron Chef to choose from in preparing tonight's dishes. There are: "4 Bimbos, Condemned variety 2 cases vintage human blood, ca. 18th c., bottled Francesca style, 1 crate of blood, Swedish bikini team 1 vat of pig's blood, kosher and a dozen bottles of cow's blood straight from Kobe "Back to you, Schanke!" "Whew! That's quite a list!" Schanke exclaimed. "But I noticed that the four Condemned Bimbos are all alive and kicking - how do you suppose the Challenger and Iron Chef will include them in their dishes? Presentation, maybe? Like waitresses at Hooters?" "Actually..." Vachon began, embarking on what promised to be a pretty spellbinding explanation of Vampire Birds and the Bees, or as they liked to call it, 'the Bites and the Bleeds.' "Oh, shhh!" Janette motioned the men quiet, pre-empting Schanke's lesson in health education. "LaCroix's about to begin his monologue! Listen!" "Do we have to?" Schanke complained. "Yes," Janette insisted, rolling her eyes as if Schanke was the lout at the party who insisted on ingesting his soup via a straw. "Shh!" Risking limb and very probably life, Schanke persisted in his duties as head commentator of the Kitchen Stadium Battle, issuing a whispered explanation for the benefit of the novice members of the audience. "For those of you unfamiliar with Lucien LaCroix, the Iron Chef Vampire hosts a nightly radio program on CERK 490MHz AM in Toronto called 'Nightwatch with the Nightcrawler.' As with his broadcasts, the General likes to commence each battle with a monologue relating to the theme of the evening. One can only imagine what he'll have to say about blood..." "Shh!" Janette hissed, and, finally, Schanke did. Those watching the action in the Stadium could plainly pick out LaCroix's streamlined broadcast booth tucked in the back half of his kitchen. He settled his liquid form in the dark chair, murmuring hypnotic words into the microphone to echo over the sound system and the airwaves. "Here's a recipe, my children. Feel how it stokes and swelters in this Coliseum, brewing mid-air, cutting like knives. It's an old remedy: take a fantasy, the more misguided the better, add a teaspoon of hope, a pinch of faith, and a dash of pride. Beat it to no avail for a century, tiring the spirit and signifying nothing. Then, submerge all the ingredients in blood - the secret ingredient, red and rich, life and death, the cure for what ails you. Watch the fantasy disintegrate at the acidity of blood's truth: 'By blood we live...the hot, the cold...To ravage and redeem the world: There is no bloodless myth will hold...' You have nothing to win, and everything to lose. Serve what you can, serve who you can - you still exist only to serve...blood." "Yikes!" Schanke rumbled. "Betty Crocker, the man is not! A bit of a downer speech, wouldn't you say, Janette? Do ya suppose LaCroix is bummed over the identity of the theme ingredient?" Schanke asked this last question mournfully, as in, 'Why, oh, why, couldn't it have been the Doughnut Battle?' Obviously, Don was projecting his personal opinion. "Certainly not," Janette preened in her seat, smiling lasciviously. "That speech was, dare I say, cheerful for the Nightcrawler. I'm certain he's pleased to be working with blood in this battle." "You seem to know Iron Chef Vampire pretty well, Janette," Schanke interrogated. "Better than most," Janette admitted coquettishly. "In that case, clue me in to this 'Nightcrawler' nickname," the detective continued. "Does it have anything to do with LaCroix's cooking? C'mon! A pseudonym like that can't be very reassuring!" Janette flashed a secret look. "LaCroix *has* been known to enjoy a wriggling dish or two." Tracy's voice rang an alert. "Detective Schanke!" "What, Vetter?" "I have some events to report from the floor! While Iron Chef Vampire was distracted with his monologue offering for the evening, the Challenger requisitioned all four Condemned Bimbos from the Theme Ingredient table, as well as several bottles of cow and pig's blood. Apparently LaCroix is furious that he's missed out on his share of the Condemned Bimbos, and has to settle for the Swedish bikini team. I asked LaCroix if he wanted to say anything to Knight about his tactical maneuver. He sneered and replied that he didn't mind if Nicholas took all the Bimbos, as long as he killed them properly. I then asked the Iron Chef if he realized that murder was a felony, and if any Bimbos were killed during the Blood Battle, I would have to arrest the perpetrators. He just laughed, said, 'Try,' and inquired if I wanted to be on the menu!" Tracy's voice was clearly astonished and indignant. Janette laughed herself, a meteor shower of delight. "That sounds just like LaCroix." "Yes," Vachon agreed. "Maybe Tracy should sneak up to the Royal Box and do an interview before she gets into big trouble and becomes an appetizer." The mere thought of food must have affected Schanke's brain, because he suddenly thought it would be a great idea to slap his arms around Janette and Vachon's shoulders, giving them a 'best buddies' hug. "Javey...Janey..." Schanke kept speaking, despite Janette's rumbling growl. "You two make cooking sound like homicidal mania! Trust the expert. I'm a cop. I know death. I know killers and crazies. Sure, LaCroix's a bit spooky, and I'm questioning the sanity of letting him play with knives, but my partner Knight's a good guy! He's golden! He doesn't kill! Not even homicidal maniacs! Because he'd have to do paperwork!" Both Janette and Vachon gave Schanke epic-length looks measuring a degree of dubiety equaled only by the reaction of witnesses to Tracy's claims that her father had nothing to do with who she was as a person and where she was in her career. "Mmm-hmmm," Janette said. "Yeah, right," Vachon said. "Let's take it to someone who knows," Schanke persisted. "Up in the Royal Box, supporting the Challenger in his endeavor, we have Doctor Natalie Lambert from the Coroner's Office!" "Otherwise known as the Kitchen Cleanup Crew," Janette murmured in a low, wicked tone. Vachon couldn't help but smirk at the comparison. Schanke blithely barreled on with his impromptu interview. "Hi, Nat!" Natalie could be seen shifting uncomfortably in front of the camera, briefly touching her hair in panic as Tracy shoved her microphone in comment-catching range. "Uh...hello, Schanke." "Now, Nat - you're one of Nick's friends, am I right? Dare I say even more?" Don waggled his eyebrows, then winked extravagantly. Natalie appeared poised to agree until the detective's second sentence. Her expression shuttered, her lips thinned, then she proceeded to give the camera the glare that has been known to make rookie cops say, "That's why Lambert works with the dead. When she's angry, she gives looks that kill." "Go away, Schanke," Natalie hummed sweetly while shooting daggers at him through the monitor. "Har-dee-har-har..."Schanke rimmed one finger nervously under his collar. Would this be a bad time to mention Myra had this other eligible cousin who had most of his original teeth...? "Hey, just kidding, Nat. That's me - a laugh a minute!" "And this minute would be where?..." Natalie retorted, regaining some of her fire. "Jupiter? Hmm. Divide Jupiter's year into 365 days, 24 hours a day, 60 minutes an hour, that would come out to...not quite long enough!" "Geez, Natalie!" Schanke held up his hands in surrender. "White flag! Pacem! All I want to know is where you stand with Nick on the Condemned Bimbo issue!" Doctor Lambert became a little more subdued again at this tightrope of a question. She put on a bright smile, hoping it would inject some feeling into her voice. After all, both the Challenger and Iron Chef could hear everything that was said, if they chose to listen. "I know that Nick will make some wonderful dishes, *without* killing anything. He doesn't need blood! It's the blood that's holding him back!" Schanke gave Janette and Vachon smug looks. "Well, there you have it. The Coroner has given her report. The Bimbos aren't as Condemned as previously suspected." "A nice idea," Vachon countered, "but I'm wondering how his doctor friend expects Knight to win a battle without using the theme ingredient." "An idiotic notion." Janette sniffed her agreement. "Completely impractical, of course." "Detective Schanke!" Tracy called breathlessly. "A scuffle has broken out between the Challenger and the Iron Chef!" "What?!" Schanke exclaimed. "How'd that happen?" "Nick was listening very intently to Doctor Lambert's response to your questions. While he was distracted, LaCroix came over to his side and took one of the Condemned Bimbos! Knight protested as soon as he realized the ingredient was missing, which led the Iron Chef to accuse the Challenger of being afraid of competing on a level playing field." "But what about the scuffle you mentioned, Vetter?" "Nick stormed LaCroix's side of the kitchen, demanding the return of the Condemned Bimbo! After an exchange of insults and getting shoved into the pie rack, Nick is now holding up a ladle and a potato masher! It looks like the Iron Chef Vampire is uncomfortable at the proximity of the Challenger's makeshift symbol of divine cooking, but he's not handing over the Bimbo! Back to you, Schanke!" "Man, oh man! Sounds like this is a case of crossed utensils and stalemate!" A clock update traveled over the sound system. "Forty-five minutes to go..." "The first fifteen minutes have elapsed, and no one's really started cooking!" Schanke said disbelievingly. "This is the most unusual battle to hit Kitchen Stadium in some time!" "But look," Janette corrected. "The reminder of the time has caused Nicolas to give up on rescuing the stolen Bimbo. He's returned to his side of the kitchen to make some progress on his courses. Good for him!" She gave a Gallic shrug. "Three Condemned Bimbos...Four...there's really not much difference." "Same IQ, at least," Vachon quipped. "But what kind of dish can Nick make out of three Bimbos?" Schanke asked quizzically. Vachon considered this question thoughtfully for a minute. "Kitchen Stadium *does* come fully equipped. He could use the pit out back." Janette clapped her hands together excitedly. "Ah! Pit of Condemned Bimbos! It's so delicious!" "Pit of Condemned Bimbos?" Schanke asked dazedly. "That's something you eat?" "Sure. It's a classic dish in Vampire cuisine," Vachon assured him. He paused, rubbing his chin as he frowned contemplatively. "On second thought, I don't think that's the direction Knight will take with this ingredient." "Why?" Janette demanded, disappointment in her pout. "He knows how!" "That may be," Vachon argued, "but it can take weeks, even months to prepare properly. He's only got forty minutes left. Sorry, Janette, but I think Pit of Condemned Bimbos is off the menu." Janette scowled half-heartedly, for she noticed that Nick was now speaking to the Bimbos, his mouth bent to whisper in one strumpet's ear, to which she nodded encouragingly. "Nicolas is chatting with them! I hope he is mesmerizing them so they will be pliant and delirious, eager to bend back their throats for a feast of blood!" She licked her lips, her teeth glinting ravenously. "Whoa, Janette!" Schanke chortled. "I bet you're a fun date!" But her gaze was already turning stormy with disenchantment at Nick's kitchen activities. "What is he doing? Oh no. Oh, no, no, no! Nicolas! You eternal boy! Do you really think this makes a difference?!?!" "It looks to me like the Bimbos have agreed to making a donation, and the Challenger is setting the gals up with an i.v. each, hooked to a pint bag," Schanke observed. "Janette's certainly acting like her appetite's ruined. Tell me, Vachon - does this manner of obtaining blood really not make a difference in culinary circles?" "Actually, it does. Knight is using the kyouketsusha technique, or what English- speaking vampires would call 'blood donor style' of preparation. While this type of blood maintains its optimum freshness - it's certainly superior to bottled vintage - it lacks a lot of the passion of blood obtained in the old-fashioned Vampire way. Kyouketsusha has really grown in popularity over the past century, though, mostly because of social acceptability and convenience." "Isn't there any way the chef can increase the passion quotient in donated blood?" Schanke wondered, thinking how Myra always tossed extra garlic into her Marinara to kick it up a notch. "Yes," Vachon replied, looking rather devilish, "but this is a family show." "O-kaaay...but can you tell us more about the old-fashioned Vampire way?" "Well," Vachon said knowingly, "I kind of have a feeling that LaCroix will go in that direction with his Condemned Bimbo. He'll use kyuuketsuki, or 'bloodsucker style.'" "Gee," Schanke said, scratching his head as he tried to mull out the happenings on the Nightcrawler's side of the kitchen. "It looks to me like LaCroix's serving his Bimbo refreshments." "Detective Schanke!" Tracy called from out of the blue. "Yes, Vetter?" "You're absolutely right, the Iron Chef *is* serving his Bimbo refreshments. He's filling her up with a combination of honey and wine, and she's already asking for seconds!" "Hmm...serving his Bimbo honey and wine..." Schanke turned to Vachon. "You're the expert. Where do you think the Iron Chef is going with this?" "Well, the honey will raise her blood sugar level, while the wine gives it a bit of an intoxicating kick." "So it's a Vampire dessert," Schanke guessed. "Kind of like Cherries Jubilee, would you say?" Vachon blinked in bewilderment. "Err...I guess. Yeah. Kind of like that." Schanke next turned to Janette. "Have you eaten anything like this before?" Janette sounded dazzled. "Oh, yes! Give me a honeywine Bimbo, and I become such a glutton! I just can't stop myself!" Vachon added some more factual tidbits concerning this potential dish. "Flavoring with honey and wine began with the Romans, so it makes sense that LaCroix would choose to put this on the menu. Honeywine is also very popular throughout France, but the local favorite around Spain and Portugal is honey and Madeira." Schanke actually started to look thirsty. "Does anyone like honey and beer?" Vachon grinned. "Germans...Oktoberfest...Talk about getting blitzed." Schanke offered the Spaniard a high-five. "You and me both, buddy!" "Thirty minutes to go..." the clock-watcher announced. ********************************************************* End of Part Two Kyoo No Tema Wa Kore Desu...! (Today's Theme Is...!) (3/5) A Forever Knight/Iron Chef Crossover By Bonnie Rutledge Copyright 2002 "We're here at the halfway point in Kitchen Stadium," Schanke summarized. "LaCroix appears to have one course under his control, while the Challenger is just wrapping up his blood donations. Nick will have to do some fast cooking if he wants to catch up!" Schanke immediately released a whoop, exclaiming, "Alright! Knight's already given his three non-Condemned Bimbos Band-Aids and pints of Ben & Jerry's. He's now at the sink!" Schanke suddenly stood on his chair and began to encourage the audience to start a Wave. "Go, Pardner!!!" "I thought the panel was supposed to be impartial," Janette huffed. "Sit down, Mr. Schan-kee." Don sat, but defended his support of the challenger by saying, "Only the tasters have to be impartial." "That means I'm free." On a whim, Vachon made Janette a gallant offer. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll start a Wave for the Old Guy." "Embarrass LaCroix," Janette replied, her voice a sugary omen, "and *you* won't feel better for a long time." Schanke's voice turned curious, interrupting their exchange. "It appears Nick is straining the donated blood. What do you think he's up to, Vachon?" "I'd say he's filtering out the serum," Vachon hypothesized. "That tends to intensify the flavor. He'll probably use the plasma later on in a sauce." "I like the sound of that," Janette trilled. "I'm relieved that Nicolas hasn't completely lost a sense of taste." "Okay, a plasma sauce on the Challenger's side, but looking back to the Iron Chef..." Schanke said, shifting his attention, "...and it looks like he's stirring something on the stove! I wonder what he's doing?" Tracy piped in on cue. "Detective Schanke!" "Yes, Vetter?" "The pot LaCroix is stirring over the stove contains bottled water, sugar, corn syrup, and butter. I also noticed a candy thermometer clipped to the side! Back to you, Schanke!" "Wow," Vachon said slowly, shaking his head in amazement. "LaCroix's making candy." Janette began to fan herself with one hand, as though the conversation was giving her hot flashes. "Oh my...Hard candy." "What?!" Schanke didn't get it. Both Vachon and Janette seemed stupefied, transported by the Iron Chef's project. "WHAT?!?!" "Candy..." Vachon began, but he had to swallow to contain his anticipation. "Blood candy...I thought it was just a myth." "What?!" Schanke laughed. "You're telling me the two of you have never eaten *candy* before? Did you have deprived childhoods, or what?" "I've had it once before," Janette corrected archly, but then her voice turned wistful. "Once. LaCroix's Conversion Day, 1879. One of his old flirts sent him a heart-shaped box of blood candy. Normally LaCroix detests holidays, but on his centennials, he becomes almost approachable. When he received his rare and fabulous gift from his admirer, he shared." Janette gasped in amazement at her own words. "LaCroix shared! It was incroyable! And the candy...oh, that blood candy...those luscious sugar drops...those faerie crimson kisses..." Janette's lashes fluttered ecstatically, then she cleared her throat and collected her composure. "Suffice it to say, blood candy is quite good." "If it's so good," Schanke countered, "how come it's so rare? Why aren't the undead running around with eternal sugar highs, huh?" "Because it's *blood* candy," Vachon said, as though he was stating the obvious. "You heat blood too much, it coagulates." Janette shuddered. "Coagulation is so disgusting." "And to make hard candy, it takes a lot of heat," Vachon finished. "That's why the blood gets added in as the candy is cooling. Add the blood too late, it doesn't mix. Add it too soon, you get a lumpy mess. Because of the time constraint, LaCroix will have to cool the candy rapidly in an ice bath. He'll have to be able to perfectly judge the temperature down to the precise second, or it'll be ruined." Schanke's mouth was hanging open in awe. "Do you think he can do it?" "I do," Janette asserted quickly. If LaCroix pulled off the blood candy, she wanted seconds! Vachon, in contrast, shrugged. "If he's lucky." After all, he wasn't an official taster or judge. Vachon wasn't obsequious by nature, and even if he was, Javier had a feeling flattery wouldn't be enough score him a sample off LaCroix. He knew there was a reason he never liked the Old Guy. "Detective Schanke!" Tracy cried imperatively. Don started from his sweet-dreams induced stupor. "Huh? Wha-? Oh, go ahead, Vetter." Tracy consulted her notes as she made her latest report. "The Challenger has been extremely busy! He's mixed together eggs, sugar, sour cream, flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt in one bowl. In a second bowl, he's mixed confectioner's sugar, butter, cream, vanilla and some of the donated blood plasma. The Challenger is planning to use the deep fat fryer for one or more of his dishes this evening, and while he's waiting for the oil to reach the exact temperature he needs, he's slicing potatoes into shoestrings! Back to you, Schanke!" "Alright! Fried food! Now we're talking!" Schanke glanced between Janette and Vachon. Neither appeared talkative. "Don't tell me you guys have never had onion rings!" he groaned. "Oh, the humanity!" "Fifteen minutes..." voiced the time monitor. "It's temperature again," Vachon reasoned. "Frying oil is even hotter than hard candy when you take it off the stove. I don't know what Knight thinks he's doing." Schanke watched as his partner cooked, his excitement growing as Nick shifted from slicing potatoes to turning out the contents of the first mixing bowl to a floured work surface and cutting the resulting dough into circles with holes. "I'll tell ya what Knight's doing! The man's MAKIN' DOUGHNUTS!" Schanke let out a dog pound bark, tacking on a shouted, "THAT'S A COP! THAT'S MY PARDNER!" "Ahem," Tracy's voice interrupted. "That's my partner, too, Detective Schanke. I feel a lot better now I've gotten that off my chest. Good." She took a gulp of air and continued. "Nick's started frying the doughnuts now, and he wants me to inform you that he's making extra so that you can have some later. Nick also wants to know if you'd like fries with that?" "Oh, yeah!" Schanke nudged the vampires. "Did ya hear that? French fries and doughnuts! Is Nick a great guy or what?" "What," Janette and Vachon said simultaneously. "Potatoes and pastry," Janette continued with revulsion. "What is he thinking? It's not like I'm a peasant. It's not like I'd dream of eating at McDonald's." "It's not like you'd even consider draining someone who ate at McDonald's," Vachon added sarcastically. "Exactly," Janette confirmed, only she was deadly serious. "Pah! Enough of Nicolas's antics! What is LaCroix cooking?" "Hey!" Schanke suddenly became alert about something other than his impending snacks. "You don't see that everyday! The Iron Chef cut himself with his fancy blade work!" Vachon's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure 'fancy' had anything to do with it." They watched as LaCroix squeezed his sliced hand over a set of glasses, drizzling his own blood over their orange-colored contents. "Detective Schanke?" Tracy bulletined. "Yeah, Vetter?" "The Iron Chef is adding his own Vampire blood to these glasses of peach nectar and champagne. Is it just me, or is that highly unsanitary?" Tracy asked. "That depends," Schanke answered, looking to Vachon for his input. "Does the Iron Chef expect the judges to drink his own blood?" "It fulfills the requirement of including the theme ingredient." Vachon slouched under the weight of giving this practical answer. "It's also very strategic - he's old and powerful enough that it'll probably bind some of the judges to him during the tasting." "You mean he's cheating!" Schanke said hotly. "Well..." Vachon equivocated. "It may not be fair, but it's not against the rules." He smiled, as if to say 'So what's the big deal?' "And, look! He's putting cocktail umbrellas in each drink!" Janette noticed. "What pretty presentation!" "So this might explain why he's known as 'The LaCroix of Vampire Cuisine'?" Schanke wondered aloud. "That, and because it's his name," Vachon agreed, deadpan. "Kind of like I'm known as 'The Vachon of Vampire Cuisine' and Janette is 'The DuCharme of Vampire Cuisine.'" "Wow," Schanke chuckled. "Can I be 'The Schanke of Vampire Cuisine'?" "No," Janette and Vachon said simultaneously. "Besides," Janette added to soften the blow, "you're already The Schanke of every food known to mortal man." "Except tofu and zucchini," Schanke corrected. "Except tofu and zucchini," Janette repeated kindly. "Ten minutes..." the time monitor droned over the sound system. Tracy demanded their attention again. "Detective Schanke!" "What's up, Vetter?" "The Iron Chef just noticed that the Challenger is finishing up frying the doughnuts, and he's livid at Knight's attempts to prepare mortal foods! He says the Challenger should give in to his true nature, stop clinging to his quest like lichen to a stone, buy a black car like a normal vampire, and just all- around act his age!" "Those are strong words from the Iron Chef!" Schanke mused. "What's the reaction from the Challenger?" Tracy sounded completely baffled. "Nick calmly started his French fries cooking, then he crossed kitchen lines and offered LaCroix a gift, saying 'No hard feelings'!! Now the Challenger's returned to his own kitchen, where he's doing something with hot dogs and relish!" "Has the Iron Chef opened his present?" Schanke asked. "I think he's doing so now..." Tracy confirmed. "Yes! Yes, the Iron Chef is opening the Challenger's gift!" Janette shook her head mournfully. "No good can come of it. Nicolas is such a terrible gifter!" "I'm catching sight of the gift now," Tracy reported dutifully. "It's a bright orange apron patterned with small root vegetables, and in big green writing it says, 'CHIISAI NINJIN SENSEI.' Whatever that means, LaCroix appears mighty unhappy about it. He's now dropped the apron onto his cutting board, and he's chopping it julienne style!" Janette was her feebly biting her lower lip to keep from looking amused. Vachon, meanwhile, was looking amused because he could. This merriment quotient drove Schanke to demand, "What's it say? What's it say?" Janette succumbed to the indignity of giggling into her hand. "Nicolas's given LaCroix a new nickname." "'CHIISAI NINJIN SENSEI,'" Vachon explained, "roughly translates from Japanese as 'Tiny Carrot Master.'" Janette tried looking very stern, failed, and ended up muffling half of her next comment with one hand clapped over her mouth to stem her laughter. "It's so disrespectful!" "Five minutes..." LaCroix frowned at this time reminder, for the clock monitor's droning sounded just a tad too much on the humorous side. "Last five minutes..." Schanke repeated. "Usually a time when the chefs are concerned with presentation, adding last-second touches to their dishes, but it looks like the Challenger's still going full throttle! Nick's just taken the potatoes out of the fryer to drain, and he's churning up something new in the blender!" "Yes!" Tracy called over the sound of her running. "The Challenger says he's blending a protein shake! On the Iron Chef's side, LaCroix is pulling a mixture he prepared earlier out of the ice cream maker! It contains milk, cream, egg yolks, sugar, nutmeg, and the bottled blood from the Swedish bikini team, which the Iron Chef says works especially well in frozen confections!" "Nutmeg?" Schanke seemed a bit bewildered. "That's kind of unusual for ice cream, isn't it? Is there any particular reason he used nutmeg, do ya think, Vachon?" "No reason I can think of," Vachon confessed, glancing at Janette. "Do you know anything about nutmeg?" She shook her head, her ornate earrings tinkling magically. "I really don't know...This is tres mysterieuse!" "Three minutes..." the clock monitor warned. "We're entering the final stretch," Schanke capsulated, "and it seems the Iron Chef is using an Ancient Vampire Secret! Will the judging panel be able to unravel it, or will LaCroix's culinary reasoning remain a mystery? Back to the Challenger, it appears he's mixing something with ketchup, and he's working on his relish!" "Yes!" Tracy echoed. "The Challenger has mixed some of the donated blood plasma with ketchup to be used for dipping with the French fries. The relish is to be used with the hotdogs, and contains cucumbers, cabbage, soy sauce, and Marmite!" "Ugh," Janette said. "Hmm." Even Schanke was suspicious of this last description. "How has Knight incorporated the theme ingredient with this dish? Is he going to use some of the blood ketchup on the hot dogs as well as the fries?" "No," Tracy answered in a chipper voice. "The Challenger says the frankfurters were injected with some of the pig's blood before cooking to make them more flavorful!" "Oh!" Schanke said, illuminated. "So this is like blood sausage on a bun!" "Ugh," Janette repeated. "One minute..." Schanke proceeded to describe the final seconds as they ticked off the clock: "The battle lines are drawn...Now it seems both the Iron Chef and the Challenger are moving faster than the eye can see, rushing to complete the presentation of their exotic and classic dishes. Practitioners of Vampire cuisine are accustomed to having all eternity to finish, but here in Kitchen Stadium, one hour is all they get. Will it be enough? We see LaCroix, arranging his precious and rare blood candy, now shaped on parchment cording. Nick isn't giving up, either; he's pouring his protein shake into glasses, decorating each rim with a bitten cork. Back to the Iron Chef, the General has added a white rose to the décolletage of his Condemned Bimbo. Last seconds for the Challenger - Knight is adding a finishing touch, frosting the doughnuts for the judging panel with the icing that has a touch of Evil Pink about it...Five seconds...Nick's adding sprinkles...Three...Two...One...The buzzer's sounding...No more cooking...The Blood Battle IS O-VAH!!!" *************************************************** End of Part Three Kyoo No Tema Wa Kore Desu...! (Today's Theme Is...!) (4/5) A Forever Knight/Iron Chef Crossover By Bonnie Rutledge Copyright 2002 "Coming off the Kitchen Stadium battlefield, the Challenger, also known as the 'Crusader of Vampire Cuisine' has completed four dishes for judgment this evening:" COW SURPRISE - "Knight has churned up his own Breakfast of Champions, composed of a shake made from artificial blood protein substitute. This eye-opening concoction is paired with a shot of Kobe beef blood as a follow-up to relieve the palate." FRENCH FRIES WITH BLOOD KETCHUP - "The Challenger forges new ground in Vampire cuisine with this dish, mimicking the comforting flavors of the cooking found in your average mortal diner. The fries are crisp and golden, with plenty of ketchup flavored with the donated Bimbo plasma to drown your plate! It's finger- licking good!" BLOOD HOTDOGS DE BRABANT - "Perfect for a night out at the ballpark, these hotdogs are plump and juicy, and taste as fresh as your local abattoir! The Marmite in the relish adds a peppery bite, the cucumbers and cabbage provides a pleasing crunch, and what Kitchen Stadium battle would be complete without a dish featuring soy sauce? This hits a home run for sure!" BLOOD & DOUGHNUTS - "Finishing up his dishes with a dessert, the Homicide detective Challenger completes his table with a salute to his brothers in blue! These sour cream doughnuts are a favorite of police officers and civilians alike, while the buttercream blood icing follows the book on Vampire cuisine! Case closed!" "In a strategic countermove, the Iron Chef strikes back at the Challenger with four dishes of his own, all highly traditional, all on the sweet side. They are:" LIFE AND DEATH - "The metaphor of this opening cocktail is unmistakable. The fine champagne sparkles and celebrates the contrast between the lively peach nectar and the Iron Chef's own Vampire blood........." CONDEMNED BIMBO, HONEYWINE FLAVOR - "Classic Vampire cuisine is presented in an attractive package. The Iron Chef says he will serve this Condemned Bimbo, plied with honey and wine for almost an hour, directly at the tasting table for an optimal savoring and dining experience." BLOOD-CREME GLACE - "Make that 32 flavors - these creamy scoops owe their flavor to the snow bunnies of the Swedish bikini team. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!" BLOOD SUCKERS - "In his piece de resistance, the Iron Chef has achieved the pinnacle of the rarest of Vampire culinary arts with this dazzling red confectionary molded into heart shapes. The crisp images provided by the blood obtained Francesca-style and crystallized with refined sugar are sure to please your forever sweet tooth!" "And now the moment of truth - tasting and judgment. On the panel today we have: URS (Vampire, Dancer) JANETTE DUCHARME (Vampire, Club Owner & Hostess) FELIKS TWIST (Vampire, Gardener, Financial Adviser) PRINCESS MUFFALETTA (Voodoo Priestess, Fortune Teller) "Wait! It looks like someone has taken Princess's place on the judging panel at the last minute! It's DIVIA (Vampire, Demon Daughter)! No one saw this coming, not even Her Muffalettaness!" Since no one wanted to be the person to catch the grist and tell Divia to go away, she quickly became an official replacement judge. No one dared risking a confrontation over suggesting a 'kid's table'; no one volunteered to knock elbows with the evil sprite, either. Feliks Twist drew the shortest straw, placing him in greatest proximity to where LaCroix's Demon Daughter now glowered from the end of the table. Janette, ever fond of being in the center of the action, assumed the middle dining seat, leaving Urs to work up enthusiasm for her meal as Kaga and the chefs observed her reactions. As he prepared to serve his dishes, Nick offered a few words supporting his efforts in the kitchen: "I'm surprisingly encouraged about the way my dishes turned out. I could have done much worse. At first, I was somewhat disturbed at the theme ingredient chosen, but then I realized that I could use blood symbolically, as a way to express my journey from the world of darkness to regaining a measure of my humanity. Before the battle, I didn't think I'd be willing to taste my own cooking, but I'm feeling pretty confident that I've managed something edible." THE TASTING - 'Cow Surprise': Urs stared at her protein shake, scraping up the will to sample it. "What's in this? The texture looks a little like that stuff they use to make ceilings bumpy." "I'll tell you what it is," Janette said, finding the shot glass beverage more revolting than colored pinstripe stockings. "It's cow, isn't it?" "Surprise?" Nick said hopefully. Urs studied her glass some more, giving off the air of solving an intricate calculus problem or the meaning of life. "On second thought, it doesn't look like spackle so much as it smells like it. An albino mud puddle - that's what it looks like." Feliks shuddered off his first swallow and promptly revised his whole unlife- view on the importance of friendship. Better that he became a complete hermit in his greenhouse than suffer this kind of gastronomical hara-kiri in the name of giving an old chum a competitive chance in hell. "I think the Challenger calculated a strategic move with this first dish," he said tactfully. "After consuming this," Feliks explained as he offered a politely optimistic smile, "well, the other dishes are bound to taste brilliant in comparison, won't they? Very clever, Nicholas, old chum!" In the face of this Twisted logic, Urs began to feel bad that she didn't want to try Nick's protein shake concoction with cow blood aftertaste. To prove she was at least making an effort - unlike Janette, who was perfectly content to make no effort at all - Urs tentatively dabbed one index finger in the filmy mixture, then dipped the pale remnants clinging to the tip into the shot glass. Flicking a molecular area of her tongue to taste, she sat back in her chair and allowed the flavor to wash over her senses. She experienced the sudden, compelling urge to chew. Urs wasn't going to mention that detail, however. It somehow seemed a tad embarrassing. She'd tasted it, though, and Knight stood right behind her, eager for an opinion. She had to say *something,* and 'blech' just wouldn't be nice. "When I taste the shake and the cow blood together," Urs began thoughtfully, "it says to me just how much Nick must really want to be mortal again. I have a tremendous respect that he's actually consumed this dish more than once." Nick gave a wobbly grin, really trying to look flattered by Urs's comment. She was obviously trying hard, but he could tell she hated his Cow Surprise. He turned his attention toward the only judge who hadn't said a word: Divia. "Wouldn't you like to try some?" he asked in his most persuasive tone. "No," Divia said. And that was the end of that. 'French Fries With Blood Ketchup': Urs was determined to like Nick's second dish. The feedback had been so resoundingly lackluster after the first course, she was certain that he had taken her comments personally. Oh, she hoped he didn't dislike her because his protein shake tasted like grassy Styrofoam! Reminding herself of Feliks's conclusion that the second dish would *have* to be an improvement, Urs dunked a generous cluster of French fries in the blood ketchup and stuffed the lot in her mouth, chewing with fiendish determination. (The cow blood really helped on this score.) Urs chewed. She chewed some more. She... She stopped chewing. "Close your mouth," Janette sniffed. Urs clamped her lips shut, swallowed, then swooped up another bite. Surprised at herself, she surveyed the table, curious at everyone else's reactions. Feliks was equally startled. "I say! This is actually fit for vampire consumption! The ketchup is quite nice and tarty." "That's the Condemned Bimbo," Nick said humbly, his hands behind his back. Janette deigned to try the blood ketchup, sampling it like caviar from a small spoon. "Mmm. I suppose I must give Nicholas credit for having the intuition to blend Bimbo with ripe tomatoes." She still refused to touch the fries. "When I eat these fries," Urs said, her plate almost clean, "it makes me realize that all food fusions between Vampire cuisine and Mortal cuisine aren't completely disgusting. I'm so happy I like it!" The judges and chef, confidence bolstered by the unexpected success of the second dish, all turned hopefully toward the far end of the table. Divia had arranged her fries into the shape of a tall man with spiky hair and had proceeded to slice off the fry-guy's head with her knife, using her portion of the blood ketchup for special effects. "No," Divia said. They let her play with her food. 'Blood Hotdogs De Brabant': Janette's lips puckered as though she'd just kissed a frog. "It's Marmite. It's pig. It's fermented bean product. I hate it. I hate it more than...more than...ESPADRILLES!!!!" Feliks wasn't too keen as well. "It seems a sad shame that a perfectly nice cucumber and cabbage had to be ripped from their peaceful garden slumber to be wasted in this." Mr. Twist tended to think of vegetables more valuable than people, hence his success as a vampire and the failure of Nick's third culinary attempt. Urs only had one thing to say. "This could use some ketchup." No one bothered asking Divia, who'd constructed a festive toga for the bloodied remains of her fry-guy out of her portion of relish. "No," she said. Just in case they were thinking it. 'Blood & Doughnuts': Urs exploded into giggling girlish glee over the sound of Janette's purring contentment. "Ooh! Yummy! I really didn't think I was going to like this because it's a doughnut, but the frosting just melted in my mouth like a little blood cloud! It's so good!" "Mmm..." Janette hummed, taking another bite. "It's interesting how Nicolas has taken the same ingredient, the Bimbo blood, and highlighted two different sensations. The ketchup was wanton, whereas this is purely feminine." Feliks broke out in a furious howl. "I say! You cheeky demon brat! Give me that back!" Divia had stolen his doughnut. "No." And she proceeded to stuff the entire second pastry in her mouth, a pink splurge of frosting dotting her nose. ************************************** End of Part Four Kyoo No Tema Wa Kore Desu...! (Today's Theme Is...!) (5/5) A Forever Knight/Iron Chef Crossover By Bonnie Rutledge Copyright 2002 Divia's appearance at the foot of the dining table caught LaCroix rather by surprise, but her re-manifestation did not alarm him. No, what alarmed him was how she exchanged secretive whispers with Nicholas just before his Challenger's departure. Something passed hands, and Nicholas whistled as he left for the Royal Box, no doubt to hobnob with that Know-It-All Doctor Lambert. Alarming, indeed. Still, he refused to present less than an unflappable air as he introduced his dishes: "I, of course, incorporated a quotation as the theme for my menu this evening. 'By blood we live...the hot, the cold...To ravage and redeem the world: There is no bloodless myth will hold...' You will find that my dishes follow this full range: my own life blood swimming in the cup, the heat of blood on the fang, the chill of frozen death, and a dish so rare in Vampire cuisine it has evolved into legend. Feast, my friends, my children. Live, die, and feast! Bon appetit." TASTING - 'Life and Death': "Ah!" Janette cooed. "This beverage - it's as sweet as the freshest peach, as precious as a gilded jewel." Divia plucked the cocktail umbrella from her drink and used it to stake her leftover fry-guy in the heart. She then coolly picked up her glass and threw it over one shoulder with a resounding crash. "Clumsy, clumsy me. Can I have another?" Janette had already finished her sample. Feliks, learning from his earlier experience with Divia and the doughnut, promptly chugged his glass like a lad with his lager. "Unfortunately, Divia," LaCroix explained in the tones of a patient father, "there is only enough beverage for one sample per judge." "You never let me have what I want!" The slightly less dulcet tones of a father losing his patience: "Divia..." "If I can't have any, no one can!" Divia picked up her spoon and threw it at the last remaining cup, inconveniently just as Urs was raising it to her mouth for her first sip. The spoon cracked the glass into large shards, two of which clonked to the tabletop, the base remaining in Urs's hand. The majority of the drink showered down the front of her dress. "The color's nice," Urs offered as half-hearted praise, staring at her increasingly sticky, newly peachy-red outfit. "Yes," Divia said. In a rather mean way, to boot. 'Condemned Bimbo, Honeywine Flavor': Since Urs was distracted spotting her soiled dress with soda water to remove the bloodstains (plus she wasn't too keen on live Vampire food to begin with), Janette corralled the first helping of fresh Bimbo. And the second. And the third. And the fourth. And the... "If my memory serves me correctly," Chairman Kaga reflected, tapping his cheek (facial) with a gloved finger, "Janette did say she was a glutton." "No fair!" Divia snarled. "She's taking too much!" Feeling LaCroix's restraining hand on her shoulder, Janette retracted her fangs, offering an apologetic giggle as though the honeywine had gone straight to her head. "Quel dommage. Oh, I did mean to share." "While I certainly applaud your enthusiasm, my dear," LaCroix clipped as he surveyed the depleted Bimbo - the phrase 'getting blood from a turnip' sprang to mind, "your timing is rather...annoying." "I want my own Condemned Bimbo!" Divia declared, scowling at Janette. "*She* got a whole one. I want a whole one, too!" "We can't always get what we want," LaCroix lectured stoically. This sentiment played no better with Divia than it had with any child since the dawn of humankind. "She's your favorite!" she shrieked. "You never loved me!" Yes, LaCroix's whole 'Just say no to love' mantra begins to make much more sense now, doesn't it? His patience had worn wafer thin. "You're just going to have to accept there's not enough Bimbo to go around, Divia," LaCroix said in an iron-like tone. Feliks Twist thumped the serviette with a fist. "Blast all! I rather had my hanker up for a spot of honeywine Bimbo! Rather a jab for everyone but Janette, that!" "Yes," Divia said. And she looked ever-so-pleased at everyone's disappointment, too. 'Blood-Crème Glace': While Urs, Janette and Feliks were equally enjoying their portions of the blood ice cream, Divia frowned at the melting scoop in her bowl. "I don't have a spoon," she announced. "You should have thought of that before you threw it at another judge," LaCroix reminded her smugly. Urs's own utensil clinked the bottom of her dish. "Eating this...it's so cool and bouncy! I feel like a snow bunny!" Divia scowled, considered her knife for a moment, then her eyes flashed wickedly as she rifled beneath her napkin for the object Nick had passed her earlier. The next second, she was contentedly scooping ice cream into her mouth with a tiny carrot. LaCroix's eyebrows almost popped off his forehead, such was his outrage. The other Iron Chefs *never* had to endure such insolence! "Damn you, take a fresh spoon, Divia!" "Yes," Divia said, accepting a shiny clean utensil. So happy she was to get her way, she nearly cracked a pleasant smile. 'Blood Suckers': "Wow!" Urs said, licking her heart-shaped lollipop. "This is completely new for me! I had no idea vampires could enjoy candy like this! I feel honored that I've gotten to try such a delicacy!" Janette went a step further in her praise. "It's delicate, yet so exciting. I feel so spoiled sucking this! LaCroix's creation serves to prove how the Iron Chef is a true Master of Vampire cuisine." "Yes, quite a lovely flavor," Feliks agreed uncomfortably while LaCroix soaked in the others' accolades like a sponge. "Only...it seems to have rather gotten stuck to my moustache." Divia hopped out of her seat. "Let me help!" Before Feliks had the opportunity to think, much less defend himself, she planted one hand over his nose, grabbed the sucker stick and... *RI-I-I-P!!!* To Feliks's credit, he maintained a sense of manly bravado. There was only a faint misting to his eyes when Divia handed him his freed lollipop with a happy, "Here you go!" and he was confronted with the sight of his former moustache coating the left side of the candy heart. "Never was much of a goer for lollies, even as a mortal," Feliks said, still stiff-upper-lip, but that might have just been the sugaring-shock. "Yes," Divia said. As a fictional candyman once said, so shines a good deed in a wicked world. ******************************************** JUDGMENT "The verdict's coming, it'll be triumph on the field of battle for one, a bloody massacre for the other!" "Two chefs, the theme ingredient of blood binding them together. The Challenger - Nick Knight, a vampire detective who wants to be mortal again. He brought his fusion of Human cooking style and Vampire flavorings to the table, sometimes to the judges' dismay, sometimes to their delight. Will it be enough to win?" "And Iron Chef Vampire - Lucien LaCroix. His four dishes were classical perfection on the palate, but a last minute substitution in the judging panel spelled trouble for the General of Kitchen Stadium, threatening an otherwise easy culinary conquest. Will the verdict be a peach, or will it have a sobering influence on the Nightcrawler?" Focusing upon the center of Kitchen Stadium once more, Chairman Kaga stood between the Challenger and the Iron Chef, while the judging panel formed a well- ordered row to the left of the main stage. "Traditional Vampire cooking versus Neo-Mortal cuisine," the Chairman began nobly. "It was a good match. The panel is split -" LaCroix emitted a surprised growl, while Divia popped out a cackle at this news. "We shall decide by total points," Kaga concluded. "Now...the verdict." "Who takes it?" Schanke's voice speculated. "Whose cuisine reigns supreme?" Chairman Kaga took in a deep breath, then roared mightily, "THE CHALLENGER, NICK KNIGHT!!!!" While LaCroix looked as though he'd just been staked, Natalie Lambert rushed down from the Royal Box to congratulate Nick on his victory over darkness. "Let's glance at the scorecard to see who bit what," Schanke said over the cheering and ovations. URS JANETTE FELIKS DIVIA TOTAL CHALLENGER 17 10 13 12 52 IRON CHEF 14 20 16 1 51 "A razor-thin margin for the Challenger, but still a conquest he can sink his teeth into! That's it for us...some of us coming more live than others...from Kitchen Stadium, GOODNIGHT!" ************************************************** End * No actual Condemned Bimbos were drained in the making of this fanfic.