Thursday, February 19, 2009

Actually, You Know, I Kinda Like Ninjas

Ninjas. There's fucking ninjas everywhere. I'm swatting away blow darts and smacking aside shuriken. I'm seeing without vision, sensing them slicing along the edges of the scene. A funhouse mirror effect starts to disorient me. They must be using their mind tricks, warping my depth perception with their ki.

My lids feel heavy and sad behind the sunglasses. I'm tired and running hardly seems the viable option it once was. Arms laden with lead, legs trembling with exhaustion, I dive forward, arcing over the edge of the building and plunging to the asphalt below.

The pole's surface is too slick and all it does is twirl me around as my fingers lash out seeking a grip. Although it slows me a fraction, I slam down against the ground, my breath knocked from me instantly.

Leaping and bounding, the ninjas move in to strike, silently dropping from above me. Their knuckles are taut and set in a instant death manuever. Big mistake getting in close enough for hand to hand.

The velocity of my fist suprises even me as I find myself sitting up, my arm up to my elbow in ninja bits.

"Shoot, ain't these guys supposed to dissolve or sumthin'?"

And as if to answer my most obviously incorrect assertation regarding the vaporous mortality of a ninja, a head whipped by my vision. Max stepped forward.

The air crackled around him. He moved casually and with purpose. As he lowered his hand, shards of bone drizzled in ninja blood dripped from his fingers.

"Looks like somebody sold us a line."

The tip of my sneaker connected beneath a ninja's ribcage as I hollered, "Heads up!" The ninja's body was sent roaring into the sunny skies above, and straight into the heart of the sun. Or so I like to imagine.

"You too buddy!" Max's omni-vision disassembled another ninja in mid-leap from my blind spot.

They kept coming at us, as if being fed into an ancient and ferocious meat grinder. Before we were through, the entire block had been baptised in blood of the unholy shinobi warrior.

We high-fived each other and patted each others backs. Max broke the silence as we sat amongst the exploded carcasses (carcassi?) of the Chelsea Ninja Clan.

"There is absolutely nothing in this sparkling, beautiful world like unleashing on ninja scum."

I reflected on pure mindless violence for nearly an entire second before replying, "I swear I love this freakin' job!"

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