DUMB JOCK explodes…
IMPRESSED JOCK decides to befriend this dangerous loner.
IMPRESSED JOCK: Where’dja learn to do that?
NINJA CHICK: Beat it.
NINJA CHICK begins to walk away. IMPRESSED JOCK grabs her by the elbow.
IMPRESSED JOCK: C’mon, don’t be like that.
NINJA CHICK batting IMPRESSED JOCK’s hand away: Look, it’s better if you don’t know. So just back off.
IMPRESSED JOCK: What’s it going to hurt? Where’d you learn ninjitsu like that?
NINJA CHICK shouting: On the street! Okay?! I learned my ninjitsu on the street! I’m a Street Ninja! cue dramatic plot-point music
God, I hate it when people do this. Look. I’m a smart girl. It’s not too complicated for me. If I’m asking you all these questions, it means I want to know more about the art, and I’d like to enlighten myself. Saying “It’s too complicated for you” means either you’re snooty about it, or you don’t understand it enough to explain.
See comment above.
I think you’re confusing “kung fu grip” with “Vulcan nerve pinch” Common mistake.
You should pay attention in Biology. If you don’t, you may regret it later. (I know I did.)
Actually, if I may be so brash as to put on NinjaChick’s hat for a moment, I believe the conversation would go something like this:
Please note, 18 questions, all of varying degrees of idiocy, including the same questions worded slightly differently, have preceeded this exchange. Random High School Boy: “So, you’re like, a black belt?” NinjaChick: “A first degree black belt, yes.” R.H.S.B. now has the exact expression a chicken adopts when watching a card trick. R.H.S.B.: “First degree black belt? Like, what does that mean?” Cue ominous music; see aforementioned script treatment for likely results.
Stephi, as an intelligent person, you would most likely avoid the cliche questions, and be answered in an honest and appreciative way.
I would also note that if NinjaChick is in any way a HotNinjaChick, her odds of scintillating conversation with her 17 year old male peers is drastically reduced.
NinjaChick, if I’ve overstepped my bounds, please feel free to tell me to fuck off.
Hang on for a second… so right here in this thread we have a Teenage Ninja. And what with various environmental problems and two-headed frogs and so forth, it seems quite likely that somewhere in the world right now is a Mutant Turtle.
I get it now! Ninjachick is seventeen. Could it be that she’s too young and clueless to figure out that when guys ask her dumb questions it’s because they want to date her and are trying to make conversation in the pathetic way most guys make conversation?
In a thread where pravnik announces a desire to be renamed ** King Cockblaster** you think there are bounds left to cross?
Hee! May I just say, I love these boards? Though, regrettably, I must correct a few errors: shameful sigh It’s not a guitar, actually. It’s a violin.
Also, I am in no way a HotNinjaChick. More accurate would be something along the lines of ShortAndStubbyNinjaChick.
Also…Ew. I greatly hope that they don’t want to date me. And if they did, wouldn’t they realize that, perhaps, it would be better to not act like Stupid Buffoons?
Hey, we’ll get you one of those nifty electric violins that I vaguely remember possibly seeing (or am just making up), slap some distortion on it, and remix The Devil Went Down to Georgia as The Ninja Went Down To School. All the kids love remixes, right?
And lemme spill one of the great Guy Secrets: If we’re acting like Stupid Buffoons, we are trying desperately to get your attention. It’s just one of those things we do.
What happens when you graduate from a WTF school? Do you get to go to an OMFG college?
Oh, and my cockblaster master says that I will soon be a King. Right now I’m just a Duke cockblaster. Sometimes when I walk into classes, I accidentally blast my cock.
Well if you’d use your holster, instead of just shoving your pistol into the waistband of your pants, you wouldn’t have this problem.
NinjaChick said, a couple pages back:
I feel the same way about my music. A lot of people think that, when I’m performing with my band, I’m out “partying”. I don’t think so. Sure, it’s fun, but it’s also a lot of work. And it’s easy? Hah! Why don’t y’all step up to the microphone and sing your head off for four and a half hours, in a room full of cigarette smoke, and sound as good at 1:30AM as you did at 9:00PM. I wanna see you do it, Karaoke Boy. Really. Show me how easy it is.
Oh, and I don’t play bass because I can’t play guitar. I play bass because I love the bass, fool. It’s also longer and heavier than a guitar, and thus makes a much bigger dent in the side of your head when I get pissed and swing it at you.
