Short stories and other true tales
“If I were to challenge you to a dual and you were to accept, and should one of us die in the process, would the world be gaining a hero or losing one?”
It was with these immortal words that my captain, my consul, my teacher and my guru taught me of the foolishness of seeking pride in the eyes of others. He showed me that we can all be heroes and we can all be villains. It is only a woman truly the master of her destiny that can become a true hero. It is only circumstance and fate that allow us see those possibilities for brief moments of time where we can be heroes in the eyes of the public, while we see those moments far more often outside of their eyes, when the lines between life and death aren’t drawn and the line of right and wrong is ours to determine.
It was with these words that I began my training as a ninja.
It was on a cold and windy day that I first met my master. I was foolish and carefree and believed I was a fighter. I had challenged three men in my life and each of them had been quickly dispatched. It was only days after my last kill, and I was visiting a village on a remote island. I had come as a sailor aboard a ship that traded my labor for my passage. I entered that village full of anger and hatred and pride. I didn’t leave for nearly three years and when I did I was not the same woman I was when I entered.
I cannot reveal much that happened in those three years, but the training I received made me ______
The chickens were drunk again, and there was no stopping their boastful strutting or their loud and raucous calls. As they stumbled about leaning on each other and occasionally falling and ending up with a beak full of dust they sang the song of the Olde Country “BaaaK..bukbukbuk…ba..ba.BaaaaK” it went on, “Buh..ba..bu buh bah,bah, bah Baaaak”
The other animals cringed and retreated further into their homes. The pigs were the only ones to remain outside and that was probably only due to pure laziness.
If anytime were a bad time for a henhouse crisis, surely this was it. But somehow that didn’t keep there from being one.
Having gnawed through three layers of wood, two layers of cardboard and a thick plastic cable Morty the rat was now getting down to business on a few wires at the back of the barn when his entire body went rigid and his eyes did something crazy and all his fur and the hay around him burst into a smoky burning lump with a tail. At least that’s the way the sheep told it, but they are prone to exaggerating.
When the fire reached the three storied hen house the first few chickens out stumbled and fell. The pile up of chickens that followed would have made a KFC bucket of chicken look like a child-size appetizer and by the time the last few chickens escaping the hen house forced their way out there was the sad and mournful smell of a rich, smoky mouth-watering aroma filling the air. Had the person who wrote the expression “a chicken with their head cut off” been there that night and seen the chaos spread by thirteen flaming chickens running amuck that classic cliché might have turned out quite differently.
“They must only hire people who just follow the rules and can’t think for themselves at this company then. I don’t see how they think that’s customer service.” He said.
I looked at him an furrowed my brow.
“I’m not saying you.” No, of course not, it’s just that the company hired me, but obviously I can’t think for myself otherwise I’d be able to understand how his statement didn’t apply to me.
“So you really can’t change the delivery charge?”
“No, I can’t.”
“And you’re not going to sell me the floor model.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Well you’re not trying to help me at all are you?”
“I can have the piece to you in two weeks, it’s back ordered right now, that’s the best I can do.”
“And even though it’s back ordered you’re not going to give me a deal on delivery?”
“Our normal time quote is one to two weeks, it’s backordered by 9 days, I can still have it to you within two weeks…”
“And you can’t just give me this one?”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s the display model, and it’s not for sale, we need it to show customers what it looks like.”
“This is ridiculous. Why can’t you even try to work with me?”
“I’m trying to help you sir, but your asking me the same questions and seeming to expect different answers…
“Well that’s because you’re not trying to help me.”
“Sir, you can either believe me when I say that the soonest I can get you the piece is in two weeks, or you can believe that I’m somehow hiding information from you and really CAN get you the piece and just don’t want to, or you can believe that I am some kind of idiot and haven’t thought of some completely obvious alternative that you’re going to discover by asking me the same questions over and over again, but I assure you that in the end the answer is still going to be that the soonest I can get you that piece is in two weeks.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I agree.”
“See, so even you think your company is ridiculous.”
“I didn’t say that. I think our having this conversation is ridiculous because it’s going no where.”
“If you don’t sell me this floor model, I’m going to go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. If you change your mind please come back.”
“Ugh…this is completely ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
It was with these immortal words that my captain, my consul, my teacher and my guru taught me of the foolishness of seeking pride in the eyes of others. He showed me that we can all be heroes and we can all be villains. It is only a woman truly the master of her destiny that can become a true hero. It is only circumstance and fate that allow us see those possibilities for brief moments of time where we can be heroes in the eyes of the public, while we see those moments far more often outside of their eyes, when the lines between life and death aren’t drawn and the line of right and wrong is ours to determine.
It was with these words that I began my training as a ninja.
It was on a cold and windy day that I first met my master. I was foolish and carefree and believed I was a fighter. I had challenged three men in my life and each of them had been quickly dispatched. It was only days after my last kill, and I was visiting a village on a remote island. I had come as a sailor aboard a ship that traded my labor for my passage. I entered that village full of anger and hatred and pride. I didn’t leave for nearly three years and when I did I was not the same woman I was when I entered.
I cannot reveal much that happened in those three years, but the training I received made me ______
The chickens were drunk again, and there was no stopping their boastful strutting or their loud and raucous calls. As they stumbled about leaning on each other and occasionally falling and ending up with a beak full of dust they sang the song of the Olde Country “BaaaK..bukbukbuk…ba..ba.BaaaaK” it went on, “Buh..ba..bu buh bah,bah, bah Baaaak”
The other animals cringed and retreated further into their homes. The pigs were the only ones to remain outside and that was probably only due to pure laziness.
If anytime were a bad time for a henhouse crisis, surely this was it. But somehow that didn’t keep there from being one.
Having gnawed through three layers of wood, two layers of cardboard and a thick plastic cable Morty the rat was now getting down to business on a few wires at the back of the barn when his entire body went rigid and his eyes did something crazy and all his fur and the hay around him burst into a smoky burning lump with a tail. At least that’s the way the sheep told it, but they are prone to exaggerating.
When the fire reached the three storied hen house the first few chickens out stumbled and fell. The pile up of chickens that followed would have made a KFC bucket of chicken look like a child-size appetizer and by the time the last few chickens escaping the hen house forced their way out there was the sad and mournful smell of a rich, smoky mouth-watering aroma filling the air. Had the person who wrote the expression “a chicken with their head cut off” been there that night and seen the chaos spread by thirteen flaming chickens running amuck that classic cliché might have turned out quite differently.
“They must only hire people who just follow the rules and can’t think for themselves at this company then. I don’t see how they think that’s customer service.” He said.
I looked at him an furrowed my brow.
“I’m not saying you.” No, of course not, it’s just that the company hired me, but obviously I can’t think for myself otherwise I’d be able to understand how his statement didn’t apply to me.
“So you really can’t change the delivery charge?”
“No, I can’t.”
“And you’re not going to sell me the floor model.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Well you’re not trying to help me at all are you?”
“I can have the piece to you in two weeks, it’s back ordered right now, that’s the best I can do.”
“And even though it’s back ordered you’re not going to give me a deal on delivery?”
“Our normal time quote is one to two weeks, it’s backordered by 9 days, I can still have it to you within two weeks…”
“And you can’t just give me this one?”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s the display model, and it’s not for sale, we need it to show customers what it looks like.”
“This is ridiculous. Why can’t you even try to work with me?”
“I’m trying to help you sir, but your asking me the same questions and seeming to expect different answers…
“Well that’s because you’re not trying to help me.”
“Sir, you can either believe me when I say that the soonest I can get you the piece is in two weeks, or you can believe that I’m somehow hiding information from you and really CAN get you the piece and just don’t want to, or you can believe that I am some kind of idiot and haven’t thought of some completely obvious alternative that you’re going to discover by asking me the same questions over and over again, but I assure you that in the end the answer is still going to be that the soonest I can get you that piece is in two weeks.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I agree.”
“See, so even you think your company is ridiculous.”
“I didn’t say that. I think our having this conversation is ridiculous because it’s going no where.”
“If you don’t sell me this floor model, I’m going to go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. If you change your mind please come back.”
“Ugh…this is completely ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
posted by Valerie at 4:56 PM
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