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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Conversations Between a Pirate and a Ninja


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The lines creaked and groaned, wet from the constant spray of salt and water. A canvas sail flapped noisily in tune with the black flag hoisted overhead, resplendent in skull and cross-bones. Other flags and bright colored emblems were tied here and there, stained in blood, the gruesome badges of conquest. The freshly scrubbed decks gleamed a dark cherry red, the expensive wood beautifully gleaming in the sunlight.

 

A pair of boots clomped onto the deck as a pirate leaned back against the rail, sighing. He surveyed the port with a furious glare, his brow furrowed in anger. He had stood watch last time...and again he was expected to stand watch while his comrades and shipmates went and drank and ate on shore. He gritted his teeth, turning away furiously, putting a hand on the gun on his hip. Colorful scarves tied around his waist and arms and legs caught the sun, glinting in a thousand glittering strands of gold and silver thread. His earrings, too, caught the light, as did the bright bracers on his wrists.

 

"Careful the way the sun hits you, you nearly blinded me there."

 

The pirate turned around, his scowl deepening. He jumped, eyes widening-- a man garbed entirely in black leather and black canvas was hanging from one of the crossbeams above. His face was masked, leaving only his eyes visible to the outside world.

 

"Where did you come from?" the pirate snarled.

 

"Not where, but how. Aren't you supposed to be standing guard?"

 

The pirate snatched his gun from its holster and pointed it at the ninja's head. "I am, and you're a fool." The shot blasted explosively, shattering the afternoon peace.

 

"Nice aiming, but you really shouldn't warn your enemy before you shoot them."

 

The pirate whirled; the ninja was perched on the rail behind him, nose to nose and waving.

 

"You little--" the pirate snarled. "What do you want? If you won't stand still enough for me to shoot you, at least explain yourself."

 

"Oh, so shoot first and ask questions later?"

 

"Generally the best way to do things."

 

The ninja shrugged. "Would you like some sake?"

 

"Sake!?" the pirate exclaimed. He noticed the elegant wooden box clutched under one of the ninja's arms. He frowned suspiciously. "Why?"

 

"I am the strongest sake drinker around," the ninja said. His mask crinkled. He could have been smiling. "I have proved myself against samurai and commoner alike. You're a heavy drinker, aren't you?"

 

The pirate crossed his arms, gripping the hilts of both his curved blades defensively. He could unsheathe them at furious speed in this stance, should he need to. "Aye, perhaps I am. What's it to you?"

 

The ninja hopped onto the deck and placed the sake-set on the ground. "I challenge you, pirate, to a contest. The last one conscious wins."

 

The pirate backed away. "I have no time for you. I am on guard."

 

"Ah, but you crave the heat of the drink. Why should you not enjoy yourself while your companions splurge in the city?"

 

"I don't call arguing with a ninja enjoying myself," the pirate growled. "But if you insist, I'll accept."

 

"Excellent!" the ninja said, and he spread out the sake.

 

"Captain'll kill me if he sees this," the pirate grumbled.

 

"He won't see anything," the ninja said. "I am a ninja."

 

"Being a ninja doesn't make you invisible," the pirate snapped. "And if you're too drunk to run away, or disappear, or whatever, you'll be caught." The pirate smiled. "I'll enjoy seeing that."

 

"Well then, we'll see, won't we?" the ninja said.

 

They drank.

 

"How are you drinking with your mask on?" the pirate asked. "And don't say something stupid about your being a ninja."

 

The ninja shrugged and remained silent.

 

"I asked you a question."

 

"And you told me not to answer with the reply I had ready. Therefore I will say nothing, since anything else is a lie."

 

The pirate groaned and drank his second cup. "Weak stuff, this," he said. "I prefer ale or grog any day."

 

The ninja's eyes crinkled. "If you say so."

 

"Indeed I do," the pirate said.

 

They drank again.

 

The pirate blinked. "What did you put in this stuff?" he growled.

 

The ninja refilled their cups. "Oh, nothing. It's just sake, high quality saitori rice. You won't find this stuff on shore, that you won't."

 

"Where does it come from?" the pirate asked. His words slurred together.

 

The ninja downed his next cup. "Nonya business."

 

They gasped with the heat of the sake as it burned on their throats. The pirate watched heavily as a large seabird landed on the dock, croaking at them.

 

"So no Yo Ho Yo Ho A Pirate's Life For Me?" the ninja mused. His head nodded and he jerked it back up.

 

"No," the pirate growled. He drank again.

 

There were footsteps on the pier and the pirate jerked upwards, a grin on his face. "Now speak of the devil. If that's the captain you're cooked."

 

There was a flash of color and a bell chimed. The cup in the ninja's hand shattered. The ninja leapt unsteadily to his feet and gripped the railing. His eyes were wide under his mask.

 

The samurai stood, his katana bared, face furious. "You stole my sake-set!" he roared. "How dare you!"

 

"I am a ninja after all," the ninja said. He tried to lean against the rail and missed, stumbling sideways "Whoops."

 

The samurai glared at the ninja, drawing back his katana. "You will die here."

 

The seabird croaked and plucked at the large rope that tied the ship to the dock. The pirate gazed dreamily at him and hiccuped. The bird shrieked again and loosed the rope.

 

A great billow of wind caught in the sails and the ship surged forward. "We're moving," the pirate chuckled.

 

The samurai stared horror-stricken as the land crept away. "You fools!" he growled. He grabbed the pirate. "Turn this ship around immediately!"

 

The pirate waggled his fingers at him and grinned. "Yo ho Yo ho," he warbled feebly. "A pirate's life for meeeeeeee..."

 

The ninja was lying on his side, feet kicking the air. "Shizuka ni sora ni kaeru sayonara," he mused. "What does that mean again?"

 

The samurai sheathed his katana and screamed. The port faded away as they drifted out to sea.

 

The seabird soared further away overhead, carrying a large twist of sticks and vines in his beak-- a tumbleweed.

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