Tag Archives: ninja

Hitman versus ninja … Round One.

I suppose the office ninja must adapt to its environs. Not much good being ‘silent but deadly’ if you need to attend meetings and present financial reports.

Cut to: boardroom, morning, somewhere in Australia. Office stiffs populate a large table, sitting upright in their ties and specs, Mont Blancs at the ready. In the corner, a ninja. Perched in Spiderman squat, complete with black garb, mask and Samurai.

Could be a touch conspicuous, wot.

This logic notwithstanding, I nearly keel over when I rock up to my regular Monday meeting to find my nefarious foe in attendance. She was the first to arrive (dammit) and sat at the head of the expansive table … figuratively stroking her fluffy, white pussy.

Not a euphemism you perv, just a Bond reference.

The meeting commences without further a nemesis – ninja at one end, hitman at the other. As nature intended. We slowly begin to circle the table in a dance as old as time (aka deathly-dull business updates). She sits, eyeing each person as they speak their turn. Though her gaze lingers on me, my poise remains aplomb. I sip my metaphorical martini.

The room seems to rotate towards her as it comes time for the ninja to speak. I’m ready for her to mime, coolly of course; to use sign language, or simply incline her head ever so slightly. I’m certain she will keep her ground and me guessing …

“Ath you can thee … we thythematically threamlined the thythems to create greater effithenthies”.

Exsqueeze me, baking powder? Mouth, open. Chin, floor. Ninja … lisp?

Look, I aint casting aspersions on those fine folk who occasionally thruggle with the letter s. But in the first Reveal of the nemesis ninja, it’s fair to say that I was unprepared.

This double take is soon followed by an extended foetal when, ten minutes later, my ears are bleeding from a neverending barrage of words flying from her nimble ninja tongue. She hurtles them towards my hitman head, like artfully aimed throwing stars. I barely get out of the way before a reporting deadline whooshes by me, taking out the guy next to me.

Sorry, pal. It’s you or me. I aint goin’ down like that.

I return with gunfire, my trusty sidearm raised instinctively … criteria, BAM! statistics, POW! project guidelines, SHAZAM! The Batman bubbles loiter for a moment, before fading away. She falters but parries well, pulling out a pair of … uh oh. Nunchucks. She gets me with two, sharp taps upside the head and I go down like Monica Lewinsky. We’re talking a month of work, at least. I’m up to my eyeballs in it. I check the chamber, but I’m out. Damn.

My first mistake had been the one that had cost me the most. Always know your opponent. Eliminate the element of surprise, or it could eliminate you. As a seasoned hitman, I had known this was paramount to my survival. She’d taken me out like a rookie on my first day.

I tip my imaginary hat, albeit resentfully. Well done, old bean. To you go the spoils. But you will not find the victory quite so glorious when next we meet … oh no, you shall not.

Stay tuned for … Hitman versus Ninja: Round Two.

Hitman versus ninja … game ON.

Working in an office is akin to being a hitman – never sit with your back to the door, always be aware of impending threats and never lose your cool. Consider me at the top of my game. I’m livin’ by the rules and stayin’ alive (à la John Travolta). I’ve worked in many an office (yeah, I’m bitter) and among the many perils rife in The Game is that of remaining unseen by a hunter. With my computer screen often visible to advancing threats, my ears are thus so finely tuned, I can detect an unlawful approach at 15 metres.

“Bogey at two o’clock! Abort! Abort!”

You could be watching You Tube, checkin’ out Lindsay Lohan’s latest mug shot or worse, plotting your defection and peepin’ at jobs online. Whatever the infraction, a hitman’s reflexes must be lightning fast. Anything less will get you killed. I can launch paperclips like poison darts, type 100wpm and reduce my screen in a split, should I whiff danger on the wind.

Don’t kid yourself, it aint enough to be fast. Maintain your cover. You don’t see Jason Bourne screaming like a girl and assuming the foetal whenever he’s cornered.

Remain calm. Act natural. You just might get out alive.

But, comes a time, a hitman aint knocking ’em off as fast as he once did. Young bucks are comin’ up quick, prepped with superior skills and kills. Cut to today.

I’m in the bathroom at work (standing at the mirror, it’s important to note) and … I hear the air move. It could have been a fly, I tell you. I turn … and find an Indian woman beside me, a little too close to first base for my liking. What the? Where in heckfire did she come from? She’d slid up beside me like a motherlovin’ ninja. Ever the artful hitman, my double take was concealed, but my instinct was to reach for my metaphorical magnum.

How is it the running of a comb through my hair sounds like I’m dragging a dead body down a side-alley, but motherlovin’ Ninja exists within the Cone of Silence? I see you movin’ but … I stop draggin my corpse to listen … ? Nothin but eery silence.

I aint gonna lie, the locale didn’t help the creepy. I clock at least 10 toilet stalls ripe for body disposal, with not a pisser in sight. I’m made.

“I see your hitman, and I raise you a ninja.”

Ever heard the term, silent but deadly? It don’t only refer to the cutting of cheese, my friend. A ninja can do all a hitman can do, except they’re like, way cooler. They live between the shadows, carry a Samurai and have a proclivity for black.

Re-spect, yo.

Could it be, my protagonist had arrived? Yes… yes, it could.

Game on.

go to … Hitman versus Ninja: Round One


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