Trust Me, I’m a Ninja

Hey there!  Remember me?  No?  Oh, ok then . . .

Well, it’s time to pick a winner for my drawing from a couple weeks ago for the magnificent and not at all sexually themed Pen & Tape Dispenser office set.  So very exciting, right?  Yep, thought so.

So, as always, I enlisted the help of my esteemed and famous name picker out of a hatter, my son 7. How lucky you are that he was willing to pause his football game on the iPad to draw a name.

This was the super lucky contestant that needs to “come on down!”

CONGRATULATIONS BYRONIC MAN!!  Send your address to:  mistyslaws@gmail.com, and I will send you your fab prize.  Our prizes will probably be passing each other somewhere in Kansas. 😉

Ok, now is where it gets good.  If you have read this post up until this point, obviously now trying to get over your crushing disappointment from not winning that awesome and unique prize above . . . I have something that will not only soothe your battered soul, but reward your continued reading of this post.

ANOTHER GIVE AWAY!!

But wait!  (you say).  How could one blogger be both so beautiful AND so generous all at the same time?

And to that I say, “flattery will not help your chances, so stuff it, bucko!”

But, you do have a point.  Maybe it’s too soon.  Maybe I should wait to let the smoke clear from this previous outstanding and totally vied for prize give away.  I mean, I don’t want you guys to think I’m just trying to buy your affections or anything with all these prizes (I totally am, is it working yet?  How about now?  Now?).

Or maybe, just maybe, nobody is really interested in this little ole prize that I’ve decided to give away next . . .

.

Yeah, that’s what I figured.  Nobody’s really interested, right?  Oh well . . . it was worth a try, anyway.

I’ll just be over here, all by my lonesome, sipping super secret and sneaky hot cocoa out of my new awesome ninja mug.  Don’t mind me.  Just move along.  Nothing to see here . . .

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What’s that?  You say you do want this ninja mug?  Really?  Oh goodie!  This means that you do love me!!!  Or, maybe it means that you just think this ninja mug is super rad and you really wanna win it?  Right.  That second one.  Oh man, this is embarassing.  Geez.

Ok, let’s just move along to details.  Obviously, I am not gonna just give this fantastic mug to just any old person who comments.  Nope.  You gotta work for this one, peeps.  You’re gonna earn this mug.

(And please note, I will not be sending you my cocoa stained mug, but a brand spanking new mug of your very own).

So, in honor of the mug, I want you to tell me a story about you being a Ninja.  Here’s the set up:  imagine you are a Ninja in any time period and place in history. You have been hired to use your super stealthy skills to sneak up on and dispatch of an enemy. And while you are invisibly waiting and watching, you get to see an important or historic event. Were you hidden in the dark late at night on an evening in 1972 in the Watergate Apartments, to see what occurred there?  Were you in a secret alcove on the Warner Bros. backlot, watching Bogart & Bacall film their famous scenes for Casablanca?  Hiding backstage at the very moment of the infamous event that started the British Invasion, on the Ed Sullivan Show?

Those are just examples.  Feel free to create your own situation. It could be ancient times, or just last week. Tell me a story about what you saw at a significant time, as you were a “Ninja on the wall.”  I will pick the most creative, interesting, or funny story as the winner, and the author will get the Ninja Mug.  That’s right, no picking names out of hats for this one.  I’m picking this winner. So you need to impress me with your inventive and wonderful story. I can’t wait to be entertained. Make ’em good, peeps.

(Thank you to Jules, of the famous and highly revered Go Jules Gofor this absolutely brilliant contest idea. As always, you are the wind beneath my wings!)

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38 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Danielle Charlton Geer
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 08:36:27

    I MUST HAVE THIS MUG.

    Stay tuned… my mad ninja skillz will return. xo

    Reply

  2. Leauxra
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 08:43:06

    Oh my goodness, that mug! So amazing!

    My friend “P” and I had this game when we were about 10 years old. We called it “moving in stealth”. The idea was that in the evening, we would pick a random person and try to follow them home without being seen. Now creepy at ALL, right? Damn lucky no one tried to shoot us.

    Not ninja-y enough?

    Fine, how about this one… My brother and I saved up and ordered some REAL LIVE NINJA THROWING STARS out of the back of a magazine. And we practiced throwing them so that we could be real ninjas. And we learned that if you angled them wrong, they would go flying right through the gap in the back fence, into the neighbor’s yard. We would then have to be super ninjas to climb the fence and retrieve the star before the neighbor’s dog tried to eat us.

    Good times.

    Reply

    • mistyslaws
      Dec 03, 2012 @ 15:30:03

      No way!! You were a baby ninja! Very Ninja-y, indeed. 🙂

      Glad you stopped that whole stalking thing. Johnny Law doesn’t usually accept “honing ninja skills” as a valid defense. 😉

      Reply

  3. renée a. schuls-jacobson
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 09:53:10

    Many lifetimes ago, when I was just a small child living in my small hut in Japan, my father took me outside. He placed five objects in front of me. I do not remember most of the objects, the only thing I saw was the sword. My father smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. My training began. But I did not know I was being trained. It felt right; the handle in my hand. Standing in a block quietly as long as I could. Staring at a cloud and watching it change into a horse and then a hut and then a hat. And then my father said hours had passed and that I had meditated enough. He taught he to walk softly, quietly, so the sticks did not crack under my feet. I could crouch in small places. I could climb trees and watch people come and go. I learned that people keep the same routines, mostly.

    When the time came to be tested, I was not afraid. I broke boards with my hands and my feet. I could kill a grown man.

    Don’t ask me how I know this.

    These days, I watch the streets of my neighborhood. People wonder why we have no crime here. I will say this: people come. They do. At night, they come to doors and touch the handles. They wiggle the windows. They try to slip inside the houses of the people whose children I love. I do not let them in. I am still as air. They never know that I was there. I do not delight in suffering, so I am swift to end things. I am a ninja, and I am watching you. You just don’t know. But you are a good girl, Misty. Stay good. Please.

    Reply

    • mistyslaws
      Dec 03, 2012 @ 15:17:58

      I am so sorry you didn’t win. This was a glorious story and made it SO DAMN HARD to pick just one winner. As always, you excel at both storytelling and almost winning every damn contest on the interwebz! 😉

      We’re still cool, right? I’m not gonna get a visit from you tonight, am I? I fear your ninja ways.

      Reply

  4. Jaclyn
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 10:47:13

    Yeah. I’m gonna need that:

    The year is 1993. It’s a warm night in June in a little town in Ontario, Canada. She doesn’t know what she’s about to unleash on the world. But I do. And I will stop it. I will cease it from ever existing.

    She’s only 17 and, as I suspected, beer will play a role in her decision-making process tonight. Step one: Get rid of the booze. It’s early in the night, so I start at the source: the fake ID.

    I slip into the room of the man who is 50% responsible for the tragedy I’m trying to prevent. He is in the shower, so I know I’ve got a little bit of time. He’s only a couple of years older than she is, and he’s trying to impress her, so he has a whole bathroom routine mapped out. Shower. Shave off the stray hairs on his face that he considers a mustache. Douse himself in Axe Body Spray. Grease up his freshly cleaned hair with an excessive amount of gel, so it looks like he hasn’t showered at all. Time. I definitely have time.

    I make my way to the pocket of his jeans where he keeps his wallet. I find his real ID, a couple of McDonalds Monopoly game pieces and the $8 he assuredly set aside for beer. Fuck. Of course he wouldn’t leave his fake ID in his wallet. He still lives with his parents and he certainly doesn’t want THEM to find it.

    I sneak around his room looking in a few places I think he may have it hidden. I find a shoebox under his bed filled with Playboys. I’m sure I’ll find it here. God, the things a ninja has to do. I start shaking the magazines out one by one and halfway through the stack, it falls out. I have his fake ID. I slip out of the room unnoticed, one step closer to my goal.

    The scariest part for me is the idea that I have to prevent this outright. If I only manage to delay it, well, I’ve seen better time-travel ninjas than me think they stopped this creature from existing, but they didn’t. They only delayed the inevitable. They only slightly modified the beast. In some instances, it was for the worse.

    Back to my plan. Part two is sabotage. Outside the boy’s house, I break into his car- an ’83 Camry given to him by his parents. It’s disgusting. For a moment I think maybe I won’t have to sabotage him at all… I mean, who would have sex in this car? And then I remember that obviously she would, and so I start my plant. I open the glove compartment and fill it with the stuff I brought. Anal lube. Vibrators. Smut. I fill it with all the things that I think would repulse a 17 year old girl. I even throw a dead mouse in there for good measure. It’s honestly not even that much more disgusting than it was before I got there. But it’s the best I can do. I have to stick to the code. We can’t interact with them. I can’t tell them about the beast. And so I have to hope this is enough.

    Finally, I need a reason for her to open that glove compartment and so I smear the dashboard, steering wheel, and seat with ink. I have to hope that it will be enough, that she will notice before it’s too late, that she will open it up to look for a napkin and she will find my plant and she will be so repulsed that she never sees the boy again. More than hope. I have to pray for it. Our world, our lives, our sanity… they all depend on it.

    I step out of the car and sigh. I’ve done all I can do now and I have to go home. I take out my time-jump and set it for the year 2012. I close my eyes as I press the transport button and hope to return to my time and find I’ve succeeded. I hope for a better world. A world where the beast never existed. I hope for a world without Justin Bieber.

    Reply

  5. The Byronic Man
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 11:09:51

    YAY ME! I even started reading the post, saying, “Feh. I never win these blog contests…” (I might be a little blue today).

    Now I can disturb my friends with my new sexual office supplies!

    Be sure to tell your son he’s an excellent name-picker.

    Reply

  6. Jen
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 13:21:20

    I’m about as subtle as a goddamned freight train. Worst. Ninja. Ever.

    Reply

  7. Go Jules Go
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 13:58:03

    Okay, are you read for this, Ninja Snaps? I would go back in time to April 30, 1982, to a hospital in NJ, and swap MYSELF for Kirsten Dunst. I would now be a rich, skinny, famous actress with big plans to work with Leonardo DiCaprio. Also she can sing, and that, as you know, is a skill that belongs to me.

    Not that I’ve ever thought about this.

    Reply

  8. Tori Nelson
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 14:50:39

    Haha. Love it. Helping Jules spread the Ninja Mug love 🙂 I fancy myself a nap ninja in that I can sleep through almost any and every tea party, office meeting, motherly duty, and traffic intersection. On second thought, that just makes me a menace to society.

    Reply

  9. Brett Minor (@brettminor)
    Nov 20, 2012 @ 04:52:52

    No need for fiction here, since I actually am a ninja. I was born that way. It was suspected when I emerged from the birth canal without a peep. Since I was breathing well (actually, it was deep chi breathing for concentration), there was no need for slapping to make me cry.

    Not that I would have cried and the doctor is only alive today because he didn’t try it. Since I was obviously a healthy specimen, I was placed on a heated table so the staff could concentrate on the empty vessel I had just vacated. As soon as they turned their backs, I disappeared in a puff of smoke. They missed the smoke since their backs were turned, but it was very impressive.

    I lived in the shadows and fed on the breast milk of the nursing mothers while they slept. I stowed away in the glove compartment of my parents’ car when they left the infernal hospital and survived on toothpaste and bath tub scum for the next two years.

    As my skills and strength developed, I began to educate my mind to better blend into society. I taught myself to read using the materials at my disposal, (instructions on cleaning products and my father’s Playboys).

    Despite my superior intellect and physical agility, I enrolled in school at the ‘normal’ age of five in order to infiltrate the masses and further blend in. My keen observation skills and refusal to bow to the lowly communication methods of my inferiors soon set me apart. I was ostracized, but this often happens with greatness.

    I endured for decades. Sitting in the shadows. Watching everyone live their meager lives. Waiting for the opportunity to strike and take over.

    The day will come, but I must keep my ninja mug hidden so as not to arouse suspicion.

    Reply

  10. thoughtsappear
    Nov 20, 2012 @ 12:22:19

    I used to be a Ninja-Pirate. I could tell you about it. But then I’d have to kill you.

    I can tell you that one of the many requirements of Ninja-Pirates is that you have to drink Key Lime Pie Martinis.

    Reply

  11. Trackback: Happy Ninjasgiving!! « Misty's Laws
  12. red
    Nov 22, 2012 @ 14:21:29

    I’m so sorry…I’m trying, but I got nothin’. I blame it on the tryptophan.

    Reply

  13. Heather
    Nov 23, 2012 @ 17:36:10

    The 1st rule of the Ninja Club is you do not talk about Ninja Club.
    The 2nd rule is you DO NOT talk about Ninja Club.
    3rd rule is to follow the first two rules…
    Only true Ninjas know this…
    I can say no more.

    Reply

  14. rachelocal
    Nov 26, 2012 @ 10:38:42

    Is there an expiration date on this contest? If not, it’s my lucky day. My ninja moment: It’s 1999; I’m wearing yards and yards of tulle. My ninja self attacks my tulle self and slips her quietly (and sideways–so much tulle) out the back door. Crisis (and first marriage) averted.

    Reply

  15. Amy
    Nov 26, 2012 @ 15:01:55

    It was a humid November day and I was walking along the plaza, searching out a good place to take a ninja nap. The plaza was unusually crowded for a Friday, but I didn’t think much of it. As I scoped out a stealthy place to rest my head, I heard sirens and saw a parade coming my way. OOOH, I LOVE PARADES! As it got closer, I realized this was no marching band-firetruck-baton twirling parade. This was a motorcade! As I waited with baited breath to see who was sitting in that convertible in the place of honor, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I did a quick ninja jump into a nearby tree to get a better vantage point. It was the PRESIDENT! HOORAY! What a treat! I turned my head and…what was in that mysterious man’s hands? He was pulling something out of his jacket. I realized what I had to do, what any self-respecting ninja would do. Fight the good fight. As I leaped from my post in the tree, I heard a loud gunshot. I tackled the mystery man to the ground and as I held him there I saw a flurry of motion in front of me. People running, people screaming, sirens blaring and that convertible was speeding away. In a flash I disarmed the mystery man and checked his weapon. He wasn’t the shooter.
    As the dust settled from the assassination of that fine young man, I realized I had seen the second gunman on the grassy knoll. I vowed I would use my stealth and silence to fight for good from that day forward.

    Reply

    • mistyslaws
      Dec 03, 2012 @ 15:26:33

      This was wonderful. Truly. Thank you for this submission. I have always had a fascination with the Kennedy Assassination. But I swear, it wasn’t me!!

      Reply

  16. Valerie
    Nov 27, 2012 @ 19:56:06

    Today I am, perhaps, the greatest ninja known to man. Or, unknown to man… since I’m, like… a NINJA. That’s how good I am. Most people don’t even know.

    I walk throughout the day, mostly unseen. Taking what I want. Killing those I hate. Stealing office supplies mid-use. My stapler collection is that to be envied. One hint of trouble and BLAM! Out comes my ninja-poof-pellet and I disappear in a puff of smoke. And using my Jedi skills, my opposer does not even remember that I was there. No, this is not the Valerie you are looking for..

    I could tell you of my accomplishments, sure… I could tell you how I get out of household chores on a daily basis by using ninja focus to slow my heart rate down so that my family thinks I’m dead. I haven’t washed a dish since 1986.

    But this story will be of my one failure. Perhaps the most epic ninja failure ever… I remember it like it was yesterday.

    Picture it: The Parade of Ninjas of ’78. It was my first official Ninja outing, and I couldn’t have been more excited. If you’re not familiar with the parade, thousands of ninjas gather every year and hold their parade. The location varies every year; however, one thing remains the same… No one ever sees us. EVER. The rush is tremendous!! Thousands of us rushing through a crowed place, and we are never seen. Never seen, that is, until the great fiasco of ’78, when I was caught by an old man. It was the single most embarrassing moment of my life. There I was, crouching tigering from tree top to tree top, only to have some dumb old man look up, point and say “HEY! Is that a ninja?!?” Time froze. I would love to tell you that the other ninjas didn’t notice, but… well.. they’re ninjas. THEY ARE TRAINED TO NOTICE EVERYTHING!!!

    Soon after that, my life spiraled out of control… I took up bedazzling. I figured that if everyone was gonna see me anyway, then they were gonna SEE me, gosh darn it!!!

    I became known as the disco ball ninja…

    Then my Master found me. Off the side of a curb in a puddle of my own glitter… He took pity on me and brought me back into the Land of the Ninja, where I am now worshiped as a God.

    Well… Maybe not worshiped, but I give out free candy. And people usually like that.

    Hugs!

    Valerie

    Reply

    • mistyslaws
      Dec 03, 2012 @ 15:27:42

      You are indeed the truest Ninja of all!! I felt you had an unfair advantage, being an actual Ninja, so unfortunately had to disqualify you. Sorry about that. 😉

      It was the puddle of glitter that did it. Tragic.

      Reply

  17. christicorbett
    Nov 30, 2012 @ 11:50:25

    Allow me first to set the scene: It’s 1985. I’m ten years old, and my brother is eight. The following is a true story and occurred in some variation (mainly who won) each weekend for years in our house.

    Saturday morning.

    Early.

    I tense in my bed—waiting, listening, observing.

    I detect nothing, but it doesn’t mean my younger brother isn’t lying in wait, most likely in the hallway, waiting for me to make my move.

    I slide from my bed in one quiet motion and land on the carpeted floor on all fours—listening. Though the bedsprings squeaked as I leapt into position, I hear nothing from the room next to mine. My brother’s room.

    Confident now, I slowly stand and check to make sure my feet are bare. I’ve learned a kid-ninja cannot cross carpet with sock-laden feet for fear of gathering electricity, and risking a shock as I touch a doorknob. It’s a risk I refuse to take. However, socks are safely tucked away in my pocket for later use on my journey.

    I stealthily open my door, taking great care as to the speed—not so slow that the door lets out a creak (damn those hinges!) but not so fast as to prematurely awaken my parents.

    On tiptoe now, I approach my brother’s door, open a crack. My nerves are screaming now, alert to the possibility of an ambush as I near. But I make it past, unscathed.

    Faster now, I ballet hop through the living room, then stop at the entrance to the kitchen.

    My kid-ninja skills have taught me well—the “slap slap slap” of sweaty feet against the linoleum floor carries through the house like a bass drum, and I’ve lost the battle too many times to repeat this mistake again.

    Socks now in place, I glide across the linoleum with the grace and skill of a hurried ice-skater and make it to the other side undetected.

    It’s dark in the family room, but I refuse to turn on any lights, preferring to feel my way around for my ultimate prize.

    And when I find it, I hold the plastic rectangle in the air with glee.

    The remote control, and the selection of the Saturday Morning Cartoons, is mine!

    This was a fun contest!
    Christi Corbett

    Reply

  18. Trackback: The First Rule of Ninja Club . . . « Misty's Laws

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