The adventure begins…

The tiny, green garbed ninja stood atop a tall stack of promotional post-it notes, watching across the desk for trouble. In his peripheral, fingers moving across a keyboard, up and down, quickly tapping out something, but this was not the ninja’s concern. Of greater consequence was the menacing bag of tortilla chips sitting on top of the desk calendar. The ninja knew what sorts of creatures used those chips as a hiding place: it had been only months since he’d been involved in an epic battle that saw three of his kin slaughtered amongst a foil cave of Doritos.

Leaping into the air, he landed upon the clear baggie with a quick flip. The ninja’s bow staff flew in quick diagonals, up and down, crushing the chips into a powder one by one. If his enemy truly resided in this place, they would soon be revealed.

Never tiring, the ninja took pause, staring knowingly at a large corn chip, curled upon itself. As he flew forward to turn it to dust, they emerged. Three gangly Tortilla Pirates emerged from the chip, swords drawn and pistols loaded.

The ninja darted left, then struck the ground hard with his right leg, propelling himself into the air, spinning quickly enough that the pirates single shots missed him. Bam! Pow! Bam!

The ninja landed, his short sword already emerging from the far side of the lead pirate’s neck.  Pivoting, his leg swept under the foot of the second pirate, knocking him so forcefully to the ground as to fracture his skull. The third pirate’s sword made contact with his own, his scowl and stench doing their best to intimidate the ninja.

This pirate must have been the ringer, the previously assumed head pirate’s garb a ruse intended to draw the ninja’s attention long enough for the true master to attack. Beginning to feel weak after deceptively short and intense minutes of battle, the ninja focused his mind, drawing up the strength that years of study had instilled. Throwing his sword so high that it passed the top of the computer, the ninja manually disarmed the pirate, knocking him onto his back with a forced open palm.

Looking up from his position laying on the desk, the pirate pulled a dagger from his boot, preparing for his next attack. But as the dagger emerged, the ninja bowed towards his enemy, and his sword returned from its trip into the air, coming to rest in the pirate’s neck.

With the immediate threat defeated, the exhausted ninja turned towards the sky and bowed. The ninja knew that his master had watched over his battle, and gave him honor. But as he was bowing, he heard an ominous and distant sound, one which he hadn’t heard in years. Ba-bam! Ba-bam! Ba-bam! Ba-bam!

The firing of large cannons in the distance signaled the presence of a more formidable enemy than the Tortilla Pirates. The machine-beasts must have returned, apparently ready to exact their revenge upon the ninja. Hand raised above his brow, searching for the direction of the shots, the ninja heard a more worrisome sound yet. A steadily growing, faint whistle was coming from the west. Taking a step back, the ninja looked skyward: shells were rapidly descending upon him.

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