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Ninja Burger Stories By You

Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 20:38:25 +0000
From: Mr. Who [*********@hotmail.com]
To: aeon@ninjaburger.com
Subject: A tale of Delivery

It was a warm night in the city, or at least, in the outer boroughs it was.  
There was a thin sliver of light hanging low in the eastern sky over Queens, 
the last gasp of a waning moon.  Across the East River, Manhattan lay 
sprawling like an unconquerable woman.  You could venture inside, but you'd 
never figure her out, and chances are you'd come out with less than you had 
when you went in.

And that was the central issue that plagued Jeff as he sat on his fire 
escape, chain smoking his way through a pack of Parliaments and lamenting 
the lack of good burgers in his neighborhood.  Jeff knew where to go to get 
one, but it would mean getting dressed, and being seen in Manhattan, having 
to look halfway normal.  You never knew who might be around in town.  "If 
only," he thought, "If only there was a way for me to obtain a really good 
hamburger without having to leave my apartment.  Strike that ^ a bacon 
cheeseburger.  Deluxe.  With fries."

Jeff sighed to himself and flicked his cigarette down.  There was a light 
breeze and he tracked it's end over end fall into the darkened alley way 
below, to watch the splash of orange sparks as it hit the pavement.  Jeff 
never saw his cigarette hit the ground.  It seemed to disappear.

Suddenly there was a swishing noise and something flicked the sleeve of 
Jeff's shirt.  When he tried to turn around to see what it was, he found 
himself pinned to the window frame by a metallic black spike of some kind.  
It had come from somewhere, and stuck his shirt to the window.  Carefully 
rolled around the dart (or whatever it was) was a piece of parchment.  Jeff 
unstuck himself and looked into the alley below as he unrolled it.  He 
thought he saw the briefest flash of shadowed motion, but he was obviously 
imagining it.

The paper in Jeff's hand was written in a spiky backhand script, obviously 
the work of someone not writing as they might normally.  There was a 
telephone number, and a sketch of exactly what Jeff had been thinking of 
ordering.  A bacon cheeseburger, with the works.

Feeling very nervous, Jeff went inside, locked his windows and doors , and 
turned out the lights.  After several minutes of frightened sitting in the 
dark he decided to call the number on the paper and demand some answers.  
Curled by the foot of his bed, Jeff dialed the number, and waited.

A voice answered at once.  "Ninja Burger.  What is your order?"

"uh what?"

"What is your order?"

"Did you say 'Ninja Burger?'"

"No time.  What is your order?"

"Uh, bacon cheeseburger.  Deluxe.  That comes with fries right?"

Click.

Jeff, perplexed, hung up the phone and realized he was perhaps in over his 
head on something very weird.  He lit another cigarette, and began pacing 
around his apartment.  He was absently poking at the hole in his t-shirt 
when he heard something move in the kitchen.

Jeff ran into the kitchen and snapped on the light, only to find the room 
deserted but the window open.    He ran over to it and slammed it shut.  
Hearing a noise in the living room he spun on his heels and came face to 
face with . . .

Nothing.

His apartment was empty.

Excepting of course the bacon cheeseburger sitting steaming on the living 
room coffee table.  Jeff went over to it in sheer wonder and stared, 
dumbfounded.  Someone had broken into his apartment and left a burger and 
fries for him.  He wondered how he was supposed to pay when the guy was 
never seen, and reflexively reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

It was missing.

He began hunting all over the apartment for it, and in no time found it in 
the kitchen, in front of the now open (again) window.  There was a ten 
missing and in it's place a small metallic spike with a receipt rolled 
around it.

Jeff realized then with a shudder, he was never alone.  Ever.  Ninja Burger 
would always be that shadow in the alley, that face on the subway, the fly 
on the wall.  At least, as long as he paid them up front and tipped well.

Date: Fri, 03 Nov 2000 11:01:47 -0600
From: C****** [c******@unt.edu]
To: aeon@ninjaburger.com
Subject: Ninja_Burger!

*this was the product of boredom and lack of sleep, resulting also in
part from the awe i felt after recieveing my order conformation....

"So anyway," spouts Subterrenean Homesick Alien (aka, the inflatable
alien in the back seat....don't ask) "I says to Mabel, I 
says - "

Suddenly, a black cloud appears over the otherwise serene and tranquil 
scene. Virginia shrieks and floors it, trying desperately to escape the 
flying black mass that appears to be rapidly pursuing them. 

"Lock your doors!!" she yells, panicked. 

Just as the latches catch, the sound of shattering glass is heard. 
Black forms slide and maneuver (if they can spell it, that is) 
breathlessly through the cramped space. 

"Where are you, Subterrenean Homesick Alien?!" screams Virginia, 
helpless, trying to see through the fast moving black sheet in front of 
her eyes.

Suddenly the smell of wasabi fills the air. With more shattering glass 
and incomprehensible dexterity, the black forms disappear from view. 

"What the hell was that?!" cries Virginia, reaching desperately for her 
friend in the back seat. Her hand reaches him, finding him a warm, 
incapacitated lump. 

The whole event lasts less than one minute, from the sighting of the 
black cloud and its sudden invasion of the truck, to its unexpected but 
gracious disappearance. All that remains to explain it is a bag - 
bearing an indiscernable symbol and the enigmatic words "Ninja Burger",
and containing, police later discover, a hamburger, some french fries 
(quite tasy - must be an old recipe), a killer onion blossom, and, of 
course, wasabi. A note is also contained therein, stating simply "You 
did not unlock your windows. A surcharge of $49.95 will be added to 
your next order. -Deliverator"

Police arriving on the scene have one thing to say:

"Thank God she didn't try to tip 'em."

~V

Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2000 23:1:33 -0800
From: T** K*** 
To: aeon@ninjaburger.com
Subject: Ninja_Burger!

My wounds interefere with my typing, but I shall see through the pain. The
little death I shall not allow to withhold my quest. I type methodically,
learning things normally not to be found for they who travel the road of
the Samurai Burger worker.

The Samurai, in their brute methodical way, are even more zealotous in
their quest to mercilessly slay they who dishonor their tradition, infidel
dogs as I. Fortunately, in straying from the path and allowing myself to
seek truth in stealth and speed above the strength and will normally I am
to be bound to as a Samurai, I have found temporary reprieve and through
trickery and dishonor of my long upheld traditions, I am allowed to live
still on.

Am I so wrong to be hunted down for questioning the wisdom of the Samurai?
Is my open mindedness a disease that deserve naught but to be slain? I bear
a heavy heart for the life I have sacrificed.

Even as a young samurai, being trained of the evils of the cowardly and
manipulative ninja, subjected to callous dismissive appraisal to the ninja
lore, taught of the superiority of our raw steel weapons and iron-forged
will, nerves of steel, burger-fry hot plates of nickel and armor of
molybdenum-titanium alloy, to crusade against the dishonorable, ruthless,
soul-less and mercenary ninja burger scum, I saw it in my heart not to
trust the brazen, tactless and crude warfarish methods of the Samurai.

Yes, they say, ninja be foolish to dance around the fences to the door, to
deposit hallowed burger. Saurai much more effective; but dare I question
the wisdom of our war cries, gate-smashing and pet-killing burger-deposit
raids? Dare I ask why we cook each burger in stone blast-furnaces, not
satisfied until each is but a lump of black? "If one is to cook the meat,
one is to burn the meat! Weaklings are they who demand moderation!" What if
the customer is more partial to the hand-cooked soy?

I am hit, degraded and dismissed for inquiry. If the methods of the samurai
are flawless, why do I see the flaws every day? To stray is crime, so is it
a crime to innovate? It was indeed so, for as I quietly open a front lawn
gate to sneak quietly into a house so not as to disturb the pets, the
Master barges forth and threatens to kill me for acting so cowardly in the
face of a simple lawn door.

"But Haigukawen" I say, fearing.. "The door is not the enemy. I fear not
the door - I seek only to deliver the burger without brutely clawing my way
across simple fences"

I was sentenced to die. My only reprieve was to bluff and escape.

"Honorable leader - Look forth, for the great master Kuno-Kahi retuns from
his geas to witness the earthly exploits of said honorable master!" I say
to him pointing my sword-blade to the sky.

"He returns???" Haigukawen exclaims, turning to the sky in disbelief. He
looks, but to see nothing! Was clever trick, primitive, but effective guile
against those of the Samurai way. I leave through the front gate and with
finesse, think to close it behind me so that the Samurai could not tail me.
They chase me far, but my simplistic guiles allow my escape. I quickly take
the Samurai burger meal and take from it the pure true symbol of the
Samurai Strength, and take it with me. I, now humiliated and exiled,
consigned to death, order Little Human Combo Meal to make the ninjas come
after me to kill me for ordering small cola. 

Using the ancient samurai silent-step fight method, I tree-hop long enough
to follow the ninjas back to the secret Ninja-Burger location! I sneak
inside, am surprised by the ninjas who had known of my enterance! I look to
find Aenomi-san waiting for me. Wise he must be, for I find he has come to
find understanding of my quest, whereupon I deposit the sacred and secret
weapon of the Samurai onto the table. It is the Mighty Soda of the Gods ..
Mountain Dew.

If I were to live to do anything, it would be to empower the Ninjas with
the mighty, caffiene-infused power of the Dew. Though I may die, traitorous
scum to the foolish Samurai who can not see past their primitive warfare,
alone and untrusted by all, I should hope to see the ninjas use the 55mg of
caffenated might to further their ends! But for now I hide, Not to bother
the Ninja Burger team with my infidel Samurai presence, not until they
should call on me, least.


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