Shhhh, we can’t talk about it!** (Credit to Heather for this reference).
First of all, I want to thank everyone who contributed to this contest. I am overwhelmed by the ingenuity and sheer awesomeness of the submissions that all of you made for the Ninja Mug contest. Well done all! Of course, it made it extremely difficult for me to try to pick just one of these amazing and creative stories to crown as the ultimate winning Ninja.
(Where is a 4 or 7 year old boy and a hat when you need them??)
Nonetheless, I was forced to put on my big girl pants and choose just one of the entries as the ultimate winner of the contest.(But seriously, you guys, it was soooooo harrrdddddd.)
Sigh. However, as all Ninjas must, I was forced to perform the unspeakable and difficult task set out before me. Because like the Highlander, there could be only one . . .
Before I pick, though (sorry), I want to give a shout out to some very honorable mentions that came this close to taking the prize, because, seriously, there were so many incredible ones to choose from:
Christi‘s story of her stealthy trek, full of pitfalls and traps, through the home of her youth, ensuring she be the first to reach the coveted remote, thus ensuring her Saturday morning cartoon domination.
Valerie‘s tragic tale of a stealthy and highly skilled Ninja, facing the bleakest of all incidents . . . being seen.
Amy, and her remembrance of that fateful day in Dallas, where alas, she was not able to stop an epic tragedy from occurring, despite her best Ninja efforts.
Brett‘s childhood story of being born a Ninja, into a non-Ninja world, and adapting and thriving in his environment, while waiting, always waiting . . .
And last but not least . . . Renee. Oh, Renee. You almost had me. How can you possibly be this good? Renee’s tale was one of a young Ninja who was trained in the ways of stealth and killing at a young age and has grown to watch over those around her. Luckily, I am one of the chosen ones who she deems “safe.” I surely hope that not winning this contest doesn’t change that status, as I fear for the consequences of turning such a skilled warrior against me.
(If you have not had the chance to read all of the submissions, please do so. They are truly epic).
And now I will present to you the winner’s submission in its entirety below. When I read this story, my heart was immediately filled with both glee and sadness. The glee was for the absolute brilliance in the story telling and subject matter within. The sadness was in the fact that this scenario could never actually occur. Oh well, c’est la vie.
The winning Ninja is:
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.
Congratulations, Jaclyn!! Send me your address at firstname.lastname@example.org, so I can send you your much deserved Ninja prize. Even if your goal ultimately failed. The Beast just won artist of the YEAR at the AMA’s, and my son was singing “If I was your boyfriend” over and over and over again on Saturday morning. Oh Jaclyn….why oh why could you not have succeeded?
Thanks again to everyone who contributed. Peace out, my ninja brethren. I have a meeting to go to. Um, I mean, a dentist’s appointment. Yeah, that’s right. Just a regular old cleaning. Yep. Nothing to see here. Move along.