[OOC][PLOT][ARC 1] Planning for Season 1 - The Retcon

[robkelk]

I'm definitely doing this one - so definitely that I'm calling "dibs" on it:

Are you xenophobic? This is not for you. We dearly need an open-minded person. He or she must be in good health, fluent in English with some French, some knowledge of business practices or property maintenance essential, willing to assist the people around him or her. Permanent employment, pay and lodging, opportunities to learn and teach. You must apply in person at 39 Church Street Extension, Antigonish, NS

Leveraging what we had before the retcon made that a bit easier.

---

Antigonish, Nova Scotia, Canada
September 25th, 2016
9:51am AT

Are you xenophobic? This is not for you. We dearly need an open-minded person. He or she must be in good health, fluent in English with some French, some knowledge of business practices or property maintenance essential, willing to assist the people around him or her. Permanent employment, pay and lodging, opportunities to learn and teach. You must apply in person at 39 Church Street Extension, Antigonish, NS

He was home.

Relatively speaking, that is. He was at least in the right province, and nowhere near the Bay of Fundy. Halifax was close enough to reach by bus but not so close that random tourists came by the building; all he had to worry about were random students from St. Francis Xavier University wandering by.

He'd let a friend back in Ottawa talk him into taking the job as apartment manager. It should have been an easier sell - he was being paid more than he had been earning at the call centre, his new employer covered his relocation expenses, the roof over his head was included in the benefits package, he had decent medical care for his ulcer and a few other things he didn't previously know were wrong with him, and he was back in the Maritimes. It was almost too good to be true... which is why he was worried. He knew who his friend's tenants were. Who was he going to end up with?

But that was a worry for later. Right now, he had to give the place a quick inspection.

"The place" was a failed resort - too large (with a half-dozen double-occupancy rooms) to be a B&B, too small to be a proper hotel, too common in design (and too far from the ocean) to be an ultra-luxurious getaway. It had a pool behind the building and a small gymnasium behind the pool. The gym was stripped bare, though; the exercise equipment had been sold to pay down the last owner's debts before he'd had to sell the property altogether, and Funtom Property Management hadn't seen fit to purchase replacements for anything but the lighting and a few floor mats. At least the building's showers were still intact. The outbuilding's water heater didn't work very well, though - but who was going to want to use an empty gym? That was a matter that could be fixed later, once there was more money available.

He looked at the wall surrounding the property - a good, solid wall that would preserve everyone's privacy - then turned his attention to the main building. There were six guest suites spread out over a single level, all of which had two bedrooms. Oddly, the locks were mechanical, not the usual keycard locks found in practically every other hotel in Canada. He and Mr. Michaels had spent the previous day supervising the movers, making sure each of the bedrooms had a bed and all of the suites had televisions, telephones, and the other furniture people had come to expect in a hotel room. The two of them had also made sure that there were enough tables and chairs in the breakfast nook behind reception for twenty people to eat at the same time. Although Michaels hadn't done any of the physical work, leaving that part of the job up to him.

The kitchen behind the nook was a work of art. Large enough for four people to work in it together, the stoves and ovens were gas-fired, the counter top was solid enough to stand up to heavy use, and the cupboards held such a wide range of kitchen equipment that he didn't even recognize all of it. It and the nook could easily serve as a proper restaurant, if the place wasn't so out of the way as to be impossible to make a profit running unless they were selling inexpensive food to university students - which, considering STFX was less than a kilometre away, they could easily do if only they could find a cook or two willing to work for minimum wage. The kitchen even had its own stairs down to a pantry and wine cellar, neither of which were stocked at the moment.

Also to be found in the basement was a laundry room large enough to handle the washing from the guest rooms and restaurant, the mechanical rooms that all buildings larger than a shed had in their basements, a storeroom large enough to hold enough supplies to last the place for a week even if the roads were impassable... and his own apartment. Such was life. At least it was an apartment, not a single room.

As he walked up the front stairs and into the office behind the reception desk, he thought that the place was quite peaceful. He wondered how long that would last.

Then he noticed the people gathered near the pool outside. They looked familiar: the moustached man in the dark-green kimono, the stocky man in a dirty gi, the boy with the tiger-striped bandana and a backpack, the girl in the pink pantsuit carrying chuí spherical clubs (not bonbori lanterns, no matter what a generation of fandom said), the old woman with the walking stick that was taller than she was, the boy wearing white robes and thick glasses, the girl in the blue top and dark tights with a ridiculously-huge spatula strapped to her back, the young woman wearing a dress and an apron, the girl in the fashionable (for three decades ago) blouse and slacks, and, of course, the short-haired girl in a yellow sundress yelling at a boy in black slacks and red shirt. He opened the window to hear "- is all your fault, Ranma!"

Oh, God.

Epsilon sighed and headed out to meet his new tenants. But at least he knew where to find a couple of cooks now.

---

11:22am AT


The newcomers had taken the news that they were in a different universe with the amount of grace and calmness that Epsilon had expected. They had only destroyed one wall in the fight over who was to take the blame for their predicament, and, luckily, it was a gymnasium wall.

Or, rather, a dojo wall.

They had then decided among themselves who was going to share accommodations with each other. The only thing stopping Genma and Soun forcing Ranma and Akane to share a suite was the threats of bodily harm from everyone else (other than Epsilon and Cologne). The elder and younger Saotome ended up in one suite, Ryouga and Mousse shared the suite across the hall from them, and Soun (being the only remaining male) found himself without a roommate. Cologne pretty much ordered Shampoo to share a suite with her; seeing this, the two elder Tendo girls quickly agreed to share a suite, leaving Akane and Ukyo no choice but to share the remaining suite.

Then they saw the breakfast nook.

"If we actually are in another world," Cologne stated, "then this would be an excellent place to reestablish the Nekohanten."

"Now wait just a pretty little minute! This is going to be the new home of Ucchan's!" Ukyo turned to their landlord. "Tell them, Upsilon-san!"

"That's Epsilon," he sighed... again. He used to think Ukyo was the least annoying of the Nerima Wrecking Crew, but his opinion of her was changing for the worse every time she got his nickname wrong. "This is a small town with a university and not very much else. There's no way that either an authentic Chinese restaurant or an okonomiyaki-ya will be able to make a profit here."

"Then what would you suggest? I doubt that anyone here knows how to cook western food." Of course it was Nabiki who asked the difficult question.

Then he had an idea. "Neither of you could be successful on your own here, but a fusion of both your styles of cooking just might work. As long as we stick to simple, inexpensive dishes."

"Of course! College students have no-no money."

Ukyo nodded in agreement with Shampoo. "And they're not going to want fancy food while they're studying."

"Maybe do bite-size okonomiyaki as a dim sum option on weekends!"

Almost everybody looked at Akane as if she'd grown a second head. Epsilon, however, replied, "That's exactly the kind of thing that people here would be willing to try. Then you can sell them full-sized okonomiyaki the next time they come in, after they know that they like it."

Ukyo looked unsure. "It goes against everything my father taught me, but if you say so, Upsilon-sugar..."

"Manager name Epsilon, not Upsilon." Shampoo surprised him by offering the correction before he could.

"You sure about that?"

"Shampoo too-too sure, Spatula Girl."

Well, at least one of them knew his nickname. "Why don't you three work out a business plan together, and we can see to things like signage and publicity after you've agreed on a nice, inclusive name for the restaurant."

"I could help with that, for a small cut of the profits."

"No need Mercenary Girl help. Shampoo and Grandmother run the Nekohanten and make profit, back in Nerima."

Ukyo had the grace to look sheepish. "And I had a pretty good thing going with Ucchan's, too. I think we can get by on our own."

Nabiki scowled. "That's what I'm afraid of - that you'll 'get by' instead of making a decent profit. I'll point out that this little restaurant is the only revenue stream we've got."

All innocent-looking, Shampoo replied, "What you mean we?"

"She's right," Epsilon replied. "Unless you think the heirs to Anything Goes are going to rouse themselves and find some students, they aren't going to bring in any money. And we need some money to pay for repairs to the dojo wall."

Nabiki frowned. "I'd resent the implication that you think my father is lazy, except that I agree with you."

"You know him much better than I do. Maybe you could persuade him to bring in some cash. Legally," he quickly added. "I have to go do some paperwork, so that the people who own this place know that you've arrived."