!!!ICHI BAN!!! KATAMARI FAN FICTION (PART II) !!!ICHI BAN!!!

Seven-year-old Tomi Katagachi would not clean up his toys as his mother had requested many times. He willfully left them scattered about the backyard. "Tomi, we're not going to visit the firehouse until you clean up all your stuff." said Father.

"Firefighters are gay!" exclaimed Tomi. Fucking American television. Father reminded himself that he still needed to sit down with the TV manual and learn how to use the V-Chip feature. Back in his day, children had respect for their elders and homosexuals.

"Do you want to visit the firehouse today?" asked Father.

"Yes," said Tomi.

"Then pick up your shi- your toys!" said Father angrily, "I'll be back out here in twenty minutes, and if this isn't all put away, we're not going at all!" Father went back in the house and slammed the sliding glass door behind him. That kid would be the death of him.

Tomi sat in the grass and rubbed his pudgy belly contemptuously, glaring back at the house. He nonchalantly picked up his All Singin' All Dancin' All Coffee Dispensin' Pikachu doll. "PIKA!" it exclaimed happily, thanks to the wonder of its on-board motion sensors.

"Why does Father have to be such a faggot?" sulked Tomi.

"Pikachu?" inquired the toy.

"It's my hot body, I'm not cleaning up my toys. I do what I want." Tomi loved American television. Tomi instead got up, waddled over to his toy basket, and poured his remaining playthings out onto the lawn. He punted an Optimus Prime action figure against the fence. He smashed his sister's Hello Kitty Art's N' Craft Fun Time Box under foot. He drew a large phallus on his Etch-a-Sketch and entitled it, "Ayaka's Weiner." (Ayaka was his sister.) A light breeze spun his propeller beanie. He idly grabbed his Mega Stand Up Comedy Squirtle Doll and shifted its arm, which was holding a little microphone, up to its mouth.

The doll whirred to life. "I just flew in from Squirtle, and boy are my arms Squirtle!" said the toy, "And what's the deal with airline Squirtle?" Tomi dropped the toy on the ground and began to urinate on it. "Speaking of air travel, is it too soon for some 9/11 jokes?" asked Squirtle, "I'm totally going there. So do you think the hijackers had the fish or the chicken, or maybeeeyuhhhh.... the Squirtle? Tshhhssfsd..." The toy shorted out as Tomi's piss leaked into its circuitry.

The abrupt sound of splintering wood caught Tomi in midstream. He spun around and noticed that a large ball of random crap had just burst through the bottom of the wooden fence surrounding his backyard. It rolled into the middle of the lawn, and somehow appeared to be considering it's new surroundings. Among the things that Tomi immediately noticed, it was comprised mostly of sticks, nuts, bolts, tools, coins, bits of rope and candy, random Japanese products, all kinds of stuff. It was about the size of a beach ball.

It rolled up to a Harry Potter action figure and considered it thoughtfully. The Katamari moved over it and Harry Potter stuck. "Hey!" yelled Tomi, "Give that back!" But the Katamari payed him no mind, and continued to roll up more of the toys littered around the lawn. "Well, at least this place is getting cleaned." he thought. Within a few short minutes the Katamari had rolled up nearly all the toys in the backyard. The strange sphere was now comprised of Hello Kitty merchandise, Transformers action figures, a plastic lightsaber, the Etch-a-Sketch with a penis drawn on it, numerous Pokemon dolls and cards, a stretch armstrong, a Buzz Lightyear, three slinkies, numerous superballs, Nickelodeon Slime, Manga comics, and two small onions, to name only a few. All that clutter had added up to increase the Katamari's size to about that of a card table.

"Okay, great. Now can you please dump all that stuff in here?" asked Tomi. He held up the toy basket. The Katamari edged towards him apprehensively. It bumped up against the basket, inevitably making it part of its bulk. "No no no, you stupid ball of shit!" Tomi threw one of his classic tantrums, raving and hopping up and down, jerking his arms randomly while his fat gut wobbled about, a small sliver of its underside exposed beneath his striped shirt. His propeller beanie flopped about as well. He ran up to the ball and gave it a good hard kick.

His foot stuck. It stuck in a way that nobody before had ever felt. There was no vice-like grip of some invisible claw, just a feeling of extreme heaviness... as if a sort of intense gravitational force was weighing his foot down to the Katamari in the same manner that the Earth weighs a person down to the ground. Except this weight... or more accurately, this gravity, could not be overcome. Not briefly by any sort of movement, nor by any kind of lift provided by propeller or wing. Not even the most powerful rocket designed by man could achieve anything close to an escape velocity once it had made physical contact with the Katamari. This was a force of finality. There was no escape from it's power.

Tomi was fucked.

"NO NO NO, let me go!" But the Katamari rolled closer, spreading Tomi more thoroughly over its surface, until the nasty child was completely pasted among the collection of junk that comrised the creature. Tomi found himself losing control of his nervous system. All he could manage were futile and pointless twitches. The creature began absorbing its new ensnarements, its flesh growing out from within, the tiny tendrils grabbing and securing all the newly claimed junk.

Tomi, now completely paralyzed and utterly incapable of movement, felt a voice slice through the terror that gripped his helpless mind. It was a voice that encompassed all. YOU AND I.... ARE NOW ONE. WELCOME TO MY PARTY FUN TIME. YOU ARE THE FIRST SENTIENT BEING TO BE ROLLED. THERE WILL BE MANY MORE!

No! thought Tomi, let me go! My dad will be really mad!

YOUR FATHER IS OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE AND SHALL SOON BE HAVING PARTY FUN TIME ALONG WITH US. IT IS FAR TO LATE FOR YOU TO BE RELEASED IN ANY CASE. YOUR... PLENTIFUL FATS AND NUTRIENTS ARE BEING ABSORBED AS WE SPEAK, AS IS YOUR RATHER LIMITED KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD. BUT WORRY NOT! COMPLETE OMNIPOTENCE IS THE DESTINATION TO WHICH WE ARE INEXORABLY BOUND, AND YOU SHALL BE A PART OF IT, ALBEIT A VERY SMALL ONE. SOON, WE SHALL EXIST AMONG THE COSMOS.

Tomi's cognizance of what he was being told became among the very last of his thoughts as an individual free thinking being. Very quickly, his mind became entwined among the collective sense of reality felt by all the junk that made up the Katamari. He was one with the lab rats, one with the Etch-a-Sketch, one with the Harry Potter, one with the microscope and the electrical outlet, and at the center of it all was the singular controlling consciousness of the Katamari itself.

Tomi loved Katamari.

-------------

The Suits were in an uproar. This was a contingency they had not planned for. "You assured us, Kenji, that the Katamari would not develop its mass assimilation capabilities until well after we had a chance to condition it."

Kenji Yamamoto, Director of Research and Development, gulped involuntarily, sticking a finger in his collar and adjusting it nervously. Daisuke Kingawa, or simply 'King', as he liked to be called, acting Chairman of the Board, the Suit of all Suits, was an intimidating presence. His heavy brow, squinty little eyes, and huge jaw, which was adorned by one of the most complete textbook examples of what could be described as a "power beard," all together culminated in one helluva scary looking boss. His appearance was an anomaly. While Japan was purportedly his country of origin, he certainly did not look Japanese. He didn't look like anything, racially speaking. He just looked like he could shoot lasers out of those tiny, calculating eyes and vaporize you on the spot if you failed to impress him.

His personality ran a wide gamut of dispositions. At times, he seemed to have the mind of a child, perhaps even a somewhat effeminate child that everyone but his denial stricken Fire and Brimstone Christian parents felt fairly confident would someday bat for the pink team. Nobody criticized him for it, however. After all, it was this child-like manner of viewing the world that had granted the company some of its most innovative products and business strategies.

At other times he was wrathful and neurotic. His happy-go-lucky attitude was known to melt away at the slightest moment of displeasure. The twinkle in those tiny eyes, nestled beneath that large brow, would flicker and burn out abruptly like an old light bulb, darkening his features and incurring his brutally foul temper. Now was one of those moments.

"I'm sorry, sir. We thought that the extra genetic code would make the Katamari capable of what it is doing when and only when we wanted it to, which is to say, after we had properly trained and conditioned it. It would seem that in trying to slip the code in under the noses of the scientists without informing them of what they were doing, some unexpected mutations have occurred. The Katamari has matured much faster than we thought it would."

"So we have noticed!" said King, utilizing the royal "we" as he often did. "This failure is unacceptable. Our investors wanted a weapon, Yamamoto, and we wanted it to be fun and colorful. What nobody wanted was an uncontrollable menace that's rolling around out there somewhere, probably terrorizing the Japanese country side, covered in dead rodents and lab equipment. Unacceptable!"

"Sir, with all due respect," said another Suit raising his hand furtively, "Wouldn't it seem prudent to contact the local authorities regarding this issue?"

"This is our project! OUR project! We will handle it ourselves!"

"Contacting the authorities won't be necessary in any case," chimed in another Director, who had just gotten an urgent notice in on his blackberry. He got up and turned on the large plasma television in the back of the board room, switching to the national news.

"That's right Suki," said a reporter as some amateur footage played on the screen, "Based on what we're seeing here, this... ball seems to absorb anything of smaller size when it makes physical contact, subsequently increasing its mass." The video showed a large round cluster of junk, about the size of a minivan, rolling about in a cow pasture. The reporter continued, "I know the footage is grainy, but if we pause it, you can clearly see some fairly horrific details. There appears to be at least one fat child stuck to it, right there, covered in cow dung. And we believe that lopsided lump on the other side is in fact a whole cow. Back to you in the studio."

"Well, so much for not buying the cow when you can get the milk for free!" said Suki. "Police, firefighters, and animal control experts have been tracking the creature closely, however they are apprehensive about using any kind of physical force against it since there appears to be at least one person trapped on this thing. It was last sighted just south of Kyoto and headed in the direction of the city. Authorities recommend that everyone in the immediate area move indoors, including pets and any valuables smaller than a minivan. We'll be back with more updates after another slutty episode of Tenchi or some other retarded Japanese cartoon." The broadcast went to commercial, and an uncomfortable silence pervaded the board room.

"We will handle this ourselves, personally," said King, "We dreamed up the thing and we can destroy it!" Ten minutes later he was decked out in his favorite costume: a big fruity renaissance type affair, with tight leggings and royal furs. He also wore what looked to be a bizarre cylindrical bolt of fabric across his shoulders, with an indentation to make room for his sizable head, upon which sat a lavish jewel encrusted crown. "Prepare my jet, and set a flight plan for Kyoto. Tonight we dine in hell!" My God, the guys in 300 were cut, he thought.