Attack of the Suction-Cup Ninjas

In the deeps of night they creep. Their bright eyes pierce the glooms of midnight, and their keen senses detect the slightest sounds. With cat-like reflexes and furtive movements they make their way through both the bustling cities and the quiet suburbia, searching endlessly for young couples in the throes of passion to prey upon. They are the Suction-Cup Ninjas…and I had a run-in with them over the weekend.

Let me paint the picture for you. It’s Saturday night, and the evening is a balmy 85 degrees with an 80% humidity. The moon is on its way to waxing full, there is a beautiful woman by my side (shut up…I’m serious), and the night is right for sitting back and watching a couple of movies. There is talk and laughter and we make it through the first movie (The Matador) without incident, but I feel a disturbance in the air. As if some force is about to descend on us with cat-like reflexes and furtive movements.

The second movie (The Libertine) begins. She moves closer to me on the couch. Was that a twig snapping outside? I put my arm around her shoulder and she lays her head on my chest. Was that the window in the back room sliding open? I smell her hair and she turns to look at me with a willingness in her eyes. That creaking floor sounded awfully close. I move in to kiss her, she moves in to kiss me and…the ninjas attack.

Now, they are not called the Suction-Cup Ninjas because it a snazzy name. No these brutes come armed not with swords and throwing stars, but with small suction cups roughly the diameter of the human mouth and they usually aim for the throat and collar region of the human body. Some might think “What kind of fucking ninja fights with suction-cups? Suction-cups don’t even hurt.” Let me tell you my friend…it doesn’t hurt. But the S.C.N.’s aren’t about immediate pain. No sir, they attack in their unique manner for one purpose. So that everyone for the next two days will look at you and say “Hey, what happened to your neck?”

I fought those ninjas off for three hours or more, but in the end both my date and I were left with their marks. The Libertine was over and the title menu kept repeating, the ninjas lay dead and dying at our feet, and my date and I were left breathless with all the fighting-off that we did.

The odd thing was…no one believed me. Let me take you through a typical conversation that I had many times in the following days.

Someone: “Hey, what happened to your neck?”
Me: “I got attacked by ninjas.”
Someone: “Yeah, right. What’s her name?”
Me: “The ninja?”
Someone: “No, the person who did that to you.”
Me: “They were ninjas, they don’t were nametags that say ‘Hi, my name is Bob’ on them.”
Someone: “You’re a weird guy.”
Me: “Serious…there were ninjas.”

So you might see my problem. After roughly a dozen conversations like this I began to just tell people that it was date that had done it to me. It seemed easier than explaining about ninjas. Not even my own mother believed my story. The ninjas seemed to have everyone fooled into thinking that they are not real.

How does the saying go? “The greatest trick the Suction-Cup Ninjas ever pulled, was convincing the world that they don’t exist.” Or…was that…crap, I can’t remember. I drink too much.

But the point is......now where did I put that? I know I left it somewhere around...ah, here it is. The point is if you should ever get attacked by these ruthless brutes, and can't wipe the silly smile off your face for several days,then you have to come up with a better story than me.