9-Ball Dreams
by hatami

1 2

PLOT: When a new billiard hall opens in Tokyo, Amy Andersen instantly falls in love with the game....and the hall's co-owner, Vincent Lauria. But she also falls into the world of hustling, a world that, once you entered, you never got out of...
LENGTH: 8596 words
RATING: NC-17/Hentai

COMMENTS:When one looks at the nature of crossovers, one has to wonder about the main reason that they are done. That main reason, obviously, is to pair up characters of different canons with one another. A sad fact, a cliched, fact, but true. Of course, even in that realm, there probably was never a crossover like this before, or after, it was written. Thankfully.

On top of it being a cross that makes little sense (remember, The Color of Money - the novel - takes place about ten years, and the movie about eight years, before the beginning of Sailor Moon) especially since none of the characters would ever have a reason to meet, we also have a hentai crossover that makes little sense. I doubt that a character like that of Vincent Lauria - or Tom Cruise, for that matter - would appeal to Amy. Certainly not in any way that would entice her to lose her virginity on a pool table. Yes, that happens in this story. I do not make this up.

Nor would she then decide she wants to play pool and be a hustler as her profession, just to beat an apparently nasty and evil old guy who has her poor Vincent as his thrall (and who by the way is likely OOC too). Of course, we also have the obligatory lesbian orgy between Amy and Lita at the end, which obviously makes sense given that Lita has a boyfriend in this story, while also being treated to a pointless Mina/Serena orgy too (where is Darien, anyhow?). We also have swearing courtesy of everyone in the story, near-miss car accidents from underage drivers (remember, driving age in Japan is 18!) and apparently the Yakuza is involved as well.

But again, why Paul Newman? What did he ever do to Amy? Doesn't the author know that Paul Newman doesn't need the Yakuza, and they probably wouldn't want to deal with him anyhow? But if they tried to mess with him, Paul Newman would run them all over with his race car, dismember their bodies with his pinkies, sell their ears as Porsche hood ornaments and then serve their brains as the new ingredient for his salad dressing. Then he'd donate the proceeds of it to AIDS-inflicted children and underpriviledged children all around the world. And no one would complain. Why? Because he's on par with Chuck Norris. It's Paul Newman, damnit!

So, clean-up on aisle five, please. I'm quite sure Walter Tewis and Jackie Gleason are both turning in their graves at this. I would if I were them.

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