You wouldn’t guess it by looking at me, but your old Uncle Willie was given extensive training as a silent ninja warrior. In fact I am a master of the dark arts. Of course a ninja doesn’t go unnoticed forever, the key is to make sure that when you do attack it’s a surprise to your victim and you can take them unaware so that they have no chance to prepare themselves for the onslaught. Swift and violent, that’s my motto. Let me give you an example.
As anybody who knows me can attest, I have a powerful lactose intolerance. A couple of swigs of milk and don’t nobody want old Uncle Willie around no more. And god forbid I eat some cheese. I can clear out an entire pool hall in two minutes flat if I get me a cheese pizza. In fact Fat Tony’s Billiards down on Grant street actually has a sign next to the pizza oven that says “NO CHEESE on Willie’s Pizzas. EVER!” That’s just how powerful my lactose intolerance is. I actually told a judge once that it was a handicap and that I had no control over my condition so he couldn’t throw me out of his courtroom for farting, but he put me out anyway. Prejudiced bastard.
They figured it out pretty quick while I was in jail this last time, and I didn’t get no dairy the whole seven months I was in there, so you can understand why I was awful thirsty for a big glass of milk. I had a little hankerin’ for a hunk of fresh mozzarella too. This morning I went to the Johnson’s grocery and got me some dairy, wolfed it down in the parking lot, and went back inside to do some evil. I found some good targets too, and I crop dusted every one of those motherfuckers.
My first victim was an ornery ass kid. The little bastard was about eight years old and he’s yelling at his mother like he runs the god damned show and she’s his serving girl. “I want this” and “I want that” and acting like he was going to get what he wanted or he was gonna kick some ass. Well I don’t take to that sort of behavior from children much, and I learned my lesson about hittin’ other folks kid in the supermarket years ago, so it was great stroke of luck that his head was about the same height as my ass.
I strolled by about 2 feet from him and let it roll out nice and easy, silent as could be. Sometimes my wrath is so terrible that I can’t believe there ain’t a blue cloud following me around, and this was one of them days. I stopped about ten feet away and pretended I was taking a close look at some breakfast cereal, and watched my victim. I looked at him just in time to catch his reaction.
When he caught that first whiff his face scrunched up like he just tasted something awful, and his mouth snapped shut. Nobody wants old Willie’s ass in their mouth. I’ve seen jaws snap shut hard enough to crack teeth after I get into some dairy and let loose. That means the second breath is all through the nose, and that never wins me no fans neither, but I’ve never seen a reaction quite like this one.
The little bastard actually looked right at me with a look of horror in his eyes. It was clear at that moment that he knew exactly what I’d done to him and he knew it weren’t no accident either. I grinned a little bit and looked right in his eyes so he knew I was relishing the moment. And that’s when I lost respect for the entire younger generation and for this kid’s daddy, because he actually started bawling. Not even a little whimper or some tears, but honest to god bawling out loud. That boy’s daddy raised a sissy.
He pointed at me and screamed like hell as I walked away grinning, leaving another trail of deadly poison to keep em off my trail and his mamma came over to comfort him and find out what the problem was. I glanced back once to see her face all scrunched up too, and I knew I done my job. They even made the mistake of coming down the aisle the same way I went, fighting their way through an invisible cloud that would have cleared trenches in World War 1. The kid was hollering and bawling for a good two minutes. I could hear him all the way on the other side of the store while I was busy with some other folks.
I have to admit, I did get a little cruel. Sometimes the power goes to my head and I start just blasting folks that didn’t do nothing to deserve it. The nice old lady behind the deli counter couldn’t go anywhere to get away, so I blasted what sounded like a fat man playing a tuba full of jelly on the way by her counter and gave her a big wink. She looked appalled at the sound, and when the smell hit her she looked like she was going to be sick. Good worker though, she couldn’t go anywhere, so she defended her post as best she could and started covering up the deli meats and throwing towels over all the baked goods. It probably didn’t do any good, that pastrami probably tasted like rotted cheese and dead things after that kind of up close exposure, but at least she made the effort.
As the deli lady covered things as fast as she could, almost in a panic, I was already on my way over to the customer service counter with a half eaten block of Parmesan. When I get into some dairy I’m Karma come to life, punishing slow customer service and bad behavior, but I try to give them a fighting chance so I didn’t roast him right away.
“Excuse me, I would like to return this block of cheese.” I said to him as I walked up.
“What’s wrong with it sir, it looks you’ve eaten nearly half a pound of it already and there are teeth marks on it.” he says, like I would be returning cheese for no reason.
“It gave me some awful farts, about the worst I’ve ever had. It ain’t right” I replied, giving him more than enough reason to refund my money for this awful cheese. This was his last chance.
“Sir, maybe you ate too much of it, Parmesan is meant to be enjoyed in smaller quantities, grated over pasta or as a small side dish. You appear to have eaten this as if it were an apple, just biting off chunks.” he said “The cheese is not the problem, it’s simply your consumption of it. In any case, we are not able to take returns on a product that has been partially consumed unless it is flawed or spoiled, and what’s left of this block of cheese appears to be fine.”
At this point it was obvious that he needed to be enlightened as to why there was a serious problem with this block of cheese and he needed to experience it for himself, so I let loose a ripper that sounded like the devil himself was tearing his way out of my ass.
“Judge for yourself.” I said as he looked grumpy at me over the sound of my blast and my now regal bearing. The ninja enters as a shadow, but leaves as a king. “I’ll give you a few minutes with that and when I come back you can tell me again how you think there ain’t nothing wrong with that cheese.”
I heard him gagging as the smell hit him a few seconds later, but I was already on my way over to the bulk foods aisle to dispense some justice on all the folks that eat chocolate stars without paying for em. My chocolate star does not like to have it’s brothers stolen and it defends them ferociously as a brother should.
When I stopped back by the customer service counter the fellow had my money ready and the cheese was up on a shelf behind him. I turned my head and I could see the cheese counter from where I was at. Sure enough there was a stock boy pulling all the Parmesan down off the shelf and throwing it in a big garbage can. Apparently they didn’t want any more cheese returns. I also got a hell of an apology from the customer service guy who was very sorry that their cheese had such a terrible effect on me.
On my way out the door I saw the kid and his mom paying for their groceries and I dusted the whole area in front of the baggers to make sure the little fella got a reminder that the Karma Ninja is always watching.
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