Read Real Ultimate Power Online

Authors: Robert Hamburger

Real Ultimate Power (10 page)

How Ninjas Learn: Senseis and Training Camps
Did You Know?
You might be thinking in your heart that you don't understand what's going on. Well ... neither do I. Maybe that comforts you. Maybe it doesn't.
I
think you already know that ninjas don't go to school. I don't know how anybody in their right mind goes to school. If the president said that nobody had to go to school anymore, I can't think of one person that would be sad. NOT ONE. Except, maybe the teachers, but that's because they don't have anything else. They just yell at kids all day and go home and go to bed and that's it. One time, I saw my teacher at the grocery store. She walked right past me and kept looking straight ahead. Fortunately, ninjas don't have to deal with any of that stuff. They learn everything they know from senseis and training camps.
Senseis!
Every ninja has a sensei. A sensei is basically a ninja's teacher, but in a good way. Most of them live in dojos, but it's not a necessity. Their main job is to train ninjas to do everything—from shaving to breaking necks. There is this one sensei.
He is amazing
. Like when you say something, his eyebrows jump up and he even turns his head toward you! Unfortunately, his pupil—a spoiled idiot—never appreciated the little things the sensei did for him. For his pupil's fourteenth birthday, the sensei gave him a huge party. He even had Gloria Estefan's make-up artist, Janet, come and give everybody fake tattoos, which was awesome! I got one of a Chinese symbol that said “Hello!” But this one kid, Trey, said that symbol really meant “faggot.” I don't know why Janet would do that if she
didn't even know me
. Besides, Trey's NEVER allowed to watch TV, and when the sensei put the TV in the backyard, because Mark wanted movies during his party, Trey went nuts! He just kept staring at it and everything. And when one kid started talking loud, Trey put him in a headlock and told him to be quiet in a super-weird voice. Most everybody freaked out, and half the kids called their moms to go home. I didn't leave, though, because the sensei was trying to keep the party going with dance and drink. But the important thing was that after the party, the sensei asked Mark if he got everything he wanted for his birthday And he said, “Nah ... I didn't like it. No turkey sandwiches.” I saw the sensei's eyes get all wet, but they didn't drip. I couldn't stand it, and I ran back behind the sensei's shed and crumpled up my shirt and cried inside it. The sensei only wanted to make his pupil happy. That's all. But no. The pupil didn't even care, 'cause he didn't know what it's like in other dojos, where nobody's ever heard of fake tattoos or birthday presents or hugs or even Gloria Estefan's make-up artist,
128
Janet.
129
Training Camps
Even though senseis teach their pupils a boatload of information, they don't learn
everything
from them. And for some ninjas who don't even have a sober sensei, there's got to be some place where they learn the basics. That's why there's summer camp. The first day is basically for getting to know everybody else—where they're from, their favorite animals and stuff. Then everybody plays volleyball, HARD! After that, they learn stuff, like hiding, sneaking around, and stealing girls' underwear—the basics. Then if they get caught 'cause it was ONLY THEIR FIRST TIME and nobody's perfect at sneaking around, they make the ninja take a mental test to measure their psychic energies. You have to fit these different shaped blocks into different holes. A regular person fits the circle block into the circle hole and the square into the square. But a real ninja—I mean, a really real one—doesn't mess around with that crap. A real ninja slams the block into whatever damn hole they want. And if you pass the test, you have what it takes, and they immediately take you out of the camp. And, congratulations, you've made it to level eight, which is pretty high, if you ask anybody.
A Ninja Makes a Telephone Call
Guy:
Hello?
Ninja:
Get ready.
Guy:
Get ready for what?
Ninja:
Get ready to get your ass beat! That's what.
Guy:
Are you serious, man? Why? What did I do?
Ninja:
You can't shut your frigg'n mouth, always talking about people you know nothing about.
Guy:
Dude, I'm sorry.
Ninja:
No.
Guy:
Come on, man.
Ninja:
No.
Guy:
I was just messing around!
Ninja:
You're dead.
Guy:
COME ON!
Ninja:
Dude, I was just kidding.
Guy:
Really?
Ninja:
No.
Testimonials About Ninjas by Like-Minded Kids
N
ow that you've learned about the inner lives of ninjas, it's time to see what other people think about them. Ninjas aren't as bad as one may think—they don't kill
everyone
they meet. There are lots of people in my neighborhood who have been touched by a ninja (not touched like how a scout leader touches, but
changed)
. Below, these real kids have real stories to tell, which can help you understand how Total Sweetness can make a difference in someone's life.
 
Name:
Peter
Age:
11
 
Mr. Frez, my math teacher, is always getting mad at me because I don't get it. One time, in class, I went up to his desk to ask a question. He got so pissed. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then WHAM! he head-bunt me. I started to scream and everybody looked up. And Mr. Frez was like, “Don't worry, Peter, we can work out this math problem
together.”
Then everybody went back to work. He helped me with the problem and he kept looking at me, smiling like he didn't do anything. I felt all fucked up inside for the rest of the day. Well, guess what, some sweet ass ninja was peeking through the window and saw the whole thing. And when Mr. Frez was driving home later that day, his car stalled—apparently
somebody
put ninja stars in his gas tank. When he got out to snoop around, there was a ninja standing right there. Mr. Frez was like, “Hey, could you help me?” Then the ninja head-bunt him so hard that Mr. Frez fell on his back and wiggled around. And the ninja didn't stop. He kept doing it until there was nothing left except blood/air. I love ninjas.
Name:
Fredrick
Age:
14½
 
I was playing in my closet when I found my alien mask from Halloween. I put it on and went to scare Gramma who was knitting. She got so afraid that she pricked her thumb with a needle. Because she doesn't know how to express her anger well, Gramma pinched my stomach really hard. Well, you wouldn't believe it but some special friends saw her inappropriate act. Later that night, two ninjas dragged Miss-I-can't-keep-my-hands-to-myself-'cause-I'm-a-frigg'n-moron-who-uses-guilt-to-manipulate-people out to the garage and put her head in the vice on Dad's workbench. One ninja cranked the vice while the other ninja plugged her nose. I woke up from the enormous explosion and then I laughed my frigg'n ass off.
Name:
Zachary
Age:
12
 
My dad. He's irregular, but not in a fiber way. You see, he's not like a TV dad—TV dads don't go nuts when you sneeze while they're sleeping or break your toys when you accidentally open a window. TV dads make sense. My dad makes stomachs hurt. For example, Dad would always make me bring him beer. Even when I was really young. He'd say, “Get me another.” And I would run inside and grab one, but I would go around to the driveway and grab a handful of dirt and pour it into the bottle. I would then run back into the house and out the front door to where he was sunbathing. Then I'd watch from the kitchen window as he'd spit up the dirty beer all over his hairy chest. But I didn't laugh—I just watched. And he would scream and swear. Even after he would spank me, I would still keep doing it. He kept asking me to get him a beer when he knew I was going to put dirt in it. And I knew he was going to spank me for putting dirt in, but I'd still do it. That was our relationship. But one morning while eating breakfast, I dropped a spoon on the floor when my aunts were over and he got really embarrassed. He grabbed my hair and held me over the stairway. But as he was about to drop me, there was a whistle or a quack. And there, behind him, was a ninja. The ninja's anger was huge, boiling. Nobody wished they were my dad that day, because what happened next is untellable: He grabbed my dad and tied all of his limbs in knots and made him eat four pure peanut butter sandwiches in a row. Then Dad started screaming like a
130
fat
131
dog.
132
It
133
was
134
electrifying.
135
Dear Robert,
 
In reply to your letters, I'm sorry to inform you that
Diane's House of Yoga
will not
be admitting you into our school. This is not, as your mother might think, a baby-sitting service. DHY is a serious school in the spiritual, mental, existential, philosophical, and physical art of yoga. And, trust me, it is an art.
 
Furthermore, yoga is not about killing people. We don't “stretch the hell out of our opponents.” Yoga is about building inner strength, but more importantly—inner peace. Killing is
not
in our curriculum. Life means a lot to us here: we would prefer to better the lives of others rather than diminish them. That's why our motto is “Mo Yoga, Mo Life.” You see, I take yoga very seriously. So, you can understand why I don't take kindly to those who would misuse its techniques to harm any form of life, whether it be plant, animal, or parent. The goodness of Earth's life force is within you, Robert. Even though it's misdirected, I can tell by your passion that you have real power. But you just need to calm down. Turn your life around as I did, and do something constructive with all that energy of yours, like build a doll house out of popsicle sticks or make a cardboard hat. Then maybe, after you've done some growing, mentally and spiritually, we can talk about getting you into some real yoga classes. Sound good?
 
Your friend
136
and
137
protector
138
of
139
the
140
Earth's
141
life
142
force,
143
Diane
144
Patton
145

Other books

Copper by Vanessa Devereaux
Deadly Intersections by Ann Roberts
Accidental Trifecta by Avery Gale
The Coming Storm by Valerie Douglas
Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer
The Demon of the Air by Simon Levack


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024