By Dave Garrison
Alas, the time had come for young Flanders to get up. It was a quarter of six and the young Meerkat was butt-ass tired from the night of hard partying and rigorous work. Hangover you ask? Hell nah! This ‘kat can handle his moonshine, and besides, he would not concern himself with such discomfort even if it did exist. He was a member of the secret underground order of Meerkat Ninjas, a band of mercenaries for hire who were only known to those who they wanted to be known to – and governed by no laws. Along with membership to this elite group also came responsibilities such as putting up with the “Ass-Dragons” among them and the shitty Muzak they’re forced to listen to while working day jobs to maintain their cover. Above all however, the Meerkat Ninja was obligated by a duty of honor, a sort of Merkiatic bushido that was ingrained in all the young warriors since the embryo stage. And so now it was time for Flanders to arise and take up the yoke of his day job, a job at a place we will call for anonymity’s sake: “Marvyn’s.”
He quickly donned his work clothes over his skintight Ninja uniform and hurried off for the long run to work. Running barefoot at breakneck speeds through the cold morning air, he tread lightly, ensuring that he would not be noticed by any people he would pass in the morning. Arriving hardly out of breath he slowed his sprint to a meandering pace and casually strolled into work – a minute and a half early. Not bad, he thought, ten miles in seven minutes – not my best time, but it will do. The day went as usual at a dawdling pace that would drive a lesser man into an asylum. To Flanders however, this was all part of the sacrifice he must make for being a ninja, and besides, he was well equipped to deal with such a situation by his psychological ninja training. He was also encouraged by news that the Cheetah ninja suits sold at Marvyn’s would be going on clearance, albeit a meager 40 percent off, but it would have to do, his current uniform was threadbare.
After work he returned to the Meerkat lair and joined his ninja brothers: Colin, P-Horse, Tuvac, Cool-Guy, Adrock, and the leader of the ninjas, Pedro the wise. Tuvac and Cool-Guy were known as “Ass-Dragons” because of their love for eighties music, despite the strong warnings from the others. Pedro, although they all called themselves Meerkats, was the only true Meerkat in the bunch. He had traveled down from Saskatchewan to evade a fascist regime known as the Exposiites, which were severely regulating Raisinette consumption in the region (Raisinettes being as essential to the life of a Meerkat as water). After arriving in Vacaville (“The land where Raisinettes flow like wine”), Pedro began organizing the clandestine band of mercenary “Meerkat” ninja warriors to help thwart the rise of mindless drivel into popular culture, an emergence orchestrated by the Exposiites.
The Ninjas had been given another mission, and the “job” would go down tonight. The objective was to sneak into a teenybopper concert and replace Ricky Martin with Vanilla Ice – a cruel prank indeed, although it was a much-deserved punishment for anyone in the crowd. As distasteful as it may sound - getting near Ricky (or for that matter, Vanilla) - they were now locked into doing it because they had been paid well, and it was not their way to refuse missions from trusted friends. But first, before the mission, a party would commence to get the ninjas slightly tipsy so the razor wit of Vanilla Ice would not cause them to falter. The retardation of their motor skills would be negligible – for they were still many times more lethal and precise than an ordinary sober person.
The job went off without a hitch – and the crowd was horrified. Martin did not suspect anything, for he was too enraptured with a mirror that had been provided to notice that he was no longer on stage. The crowd on the other hand was ugly – and after the fourth rendition of “Ice, Ice, Baby” a riot began to form near the stage (in an area commonly known at metal concerts as the “Mosh Pit”). Vanilla had to be switched back with Martin, and the thousands of angry 12 year old girls and horny queer men were soon re-hypnotized and Livin’ La Vida Loca.
Although earplugs were in place the entire time, Adrock was harmed during the caper when one of his came loose. It will be a good two days for his ear to fully recover – but he was well aware the risk element that was part of the job (and was grateful hat the damage had been so light – he could have been brainwashed). After another couple hours of partying and a rigorous workout, the Meerkat ninjas retired to bed to await another day of mayhem and mischief – all in the name of the Meerkat code of honor.
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