A year ago, a man was jumped by a pair of ninjas. It has been a year, and the police have had yet to arrest a single shinobi. Not wanting to leave criminals unpunished, I took the first flight to West Covina, California.
This is their tallest building. Lame.
The first thing I did when I arrived to West Covina was head straight for South Sunset Avenue on a rented moped, the scene of the crime. I spotted a cop and called him over.
"Have you seen any ninjas lately?"
"No," the cop shook his head. "Why?"
"I'm taking the weed ninjas down."
"You know, the ninjas who stole weed from the weed delivery guy last year."
"That crime is over a year old."
"Just drop it."
I shook my head. Poor- wait, let me read his badge. Okay. Poor Sebastian. I bet he was a bright eyed young man when he first became a police officer. But after years of seeing other bright-eyed youths turn to crime, of seeing old women mugged, of being branded as an evil force, The Man had probably worn him down. He doesn't care about the struggle of the bourgeois as I do.
"You poor, poor fool. Let me handle this situation."
The cop looked at me like I was the idiot. He turned to leave. "Have a good day, sir."
I was surprised. Nobody ever believes me. Not even my parole officer. I shook my head and drove around the neighborhood, asking the residents if they smoked weed, and yes, if their delivery man was attacked by ninjas. For hours, I got no response. They either thought I was police, ALL of the police, or they legitimately didn't smoke marijuana, medicinally or otherwise.
Until I started talking to an elderly woman at a nearby park.
"I have to take medicinal marijuana," the old woman began, "for my glaucoma, my fibro, my arthritis, and-"
"You're a very sick woman, I get it. Who is your delivery man?"
"He goes by Jun-Young. Lee Jun-Young."
I searched for Jun-Young's address, got on my moped, and sped off
Seriously, this thing is sweet.
I arrived at Jun-Young's apartment and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. None. Was he out on a job? It was midnight. I was about to leave when I heard a shuffling noise from inside the apartment. I put my ear to the door and listened.
"He's asleep. Kill him."
I kicked Jun-Young's door open and fired multiple shots. Jun woke up screaming.
"I'm here to save you!" I explained loudly.
Two men in ninja suits (scientific term) blocked the bullets with their blades. One of them made a mad dash to the window and jumped out. The other swung his blade at my throat. I managed to dodge, by expertly falling gracefully on my ass. I aimed my gun at the ninja and shot him in the chest enough times for him to qualify as dead. I stood back up and looked at Jun-Young.
"Why were they after you?"
"Fuck, man! 안녕!" Jun-Young ran out of his apartment in his boxers. I followed him and stopped him before he left the building.
"There's an armed shinobi out there and you wanna leave the guy with a gun?" I reasoned.
"What do you want with me, man? Who are you?" Why are ninjas after me? I am Korean. This is culturally inaccurate."
"Never mind that. Ninjas. I heard about what happened to you. I came to help."
Jun-Young shoved me away and stared at me with the impotent rage of a thousand suns. "I've been left alone for a year! Why are they attacking me again?"
"Why did they attack you in the first place?"
"They wanted the weed I was delivering!"
The white man with the Korean name (seriously, what the fuck) sighed. "They're weed ninjas. They're-"
"Ninjas who smoke weed?"
Jun-Young gasped. "How did you know?"
I studied the man closer. The man was baked as a wedding cake. Exasperated by the stupidity of this white devil, I asked him, "Where are the weed ninjas located?"
"Oh. The floor below me."
"Oh, come the fuck on. Whatever, I'll handle the situation."
"Wait! Who are you?"
"I'm the guy who saved Amecameca."
"Things have been quite peaceful since you left."-Jose
I moved silently to the floor below, using the staircase to get there. As is my wont. I caught the unmistakable scent of marijuana. The skunky-skunk. The dirty dirt. I slowly opened the door and took a peek. In the hallway were dozens of ninjas, all of them smoking pot through their masks (somehow). I heard Herb Shuttles playing in the background. Then it hit me. That explains why they were so visible when they attacked Jun-Young last year. They're so baked.
I leaned into the hallway, grabbed the nearest ninja, and pulled him into the staircase. A minute later, I walked out in full ninja garb. It fit my curves perfectly. Fiction law. I looked around, searching for a head ninja or something, when two ninjas walked up to me.
"Yo, ninja! You heard about Joe? Ninja got capped by a citizen."
"Oh?" I gulped. "Poor Joe."
"I'm gonna kill that fool!" The second ninja palmed his fist. "After I toke up, you know?"
I nodded my head. "Yea, yea, for sure, my ninjas. Listen, where's our master again? I hit the pipe pretty hard and I'm totally not the fool who killed Joe."
"Master is in 3B, my ninja."
I entered 3B and found an elderly Asian man sitting in a meditative pose.
"Okay, this is cliche. Master, tell me again why we tried to kill Jun-Young a year after the fact?"
The elder ninja took a deep breath. He looked at me with puffy eyes. "...what?"
"Jun-Young, the guy you-we jumped last year for the weed."
"Oh, right," he burped. He was silent for a full minute.
"Oh, right. He was an eye witnesses, grasshopper. Had to exterminate him."
"But why did it take a year?"
"Of course." I looked the side and spotted a crate full of something. "Mind if I take these?"
"Go ahead, my student."
I evacuated everyone in the building except for the ninjas on the third floor. I placed the explosives I found in the master's apartment in the places explosives need to be (read: everywhere in the building) and blew the place sky high (get it?). I watched the building go up in the flames with the ninjas inside. I'm not sure if they felt anything, but then again, I didn't care. I don't have sympathy for criminals who break the law and destroy property and take human lives.
With another job well done, I headed home with the rental moped I "bought".
No, seriously, this thing is fucking sweet.
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