The Ninja Epidemic
You decide to call the police. You dial and an operator picks up. "Police department, what's the nature of your call?" She says with a calm professionalism which sharply contrasts the panic you are experiencing.
"You've got to help me. Send some officers down. A ninja killed my friend and now they're after me!" You blurt all this out, suprised that you can even speak coherently with the fear rolling through you.
"Oh," She says to you. "Can you hold on?" You tell her that you can. You hear her talking to someone in the background. "It's that kid calling about the ninjas again. What do you want me to tell him?"
Suddenly you hear someone else pick up the phone. It is an older man. He sounds agitated. "Listen here, you snot nosed stupid little punk! Your ninjas attacking bullshit is in no way amuzing! There are serious crimes out there being commited even as we speak and here we are wasting our time talking to you about an invading clan of ninjas! We don't have time for stupid highschool pranks! If you're that bored, call the grocery store and ask if they have olive oil in a bottle and tell them that Popeye is getting pissed about it so they'd better let her out! But don't call the police with some stoner hallucination about ninjas, damn it!!" The phone slams down and a dial tone greets you.
That went well. You decide that you need to arm yourself to be defended against ninjas, since you're obviously not going to get any help from the local law enforcement. You start searching the house. The best you can find is your aluminum baseball bat. Thinking about it, you have a redneck cousin who certainly has enough firearms to attack a small country. But he lives almost half an hour away. Do you call him up, or decide not to waste your time with him and get ready to bludgeon the shit out of these ninja-fucks?
"You've got to help me. Send some officers down. A ninja killed my friend and now they're after me!" You blurt all this out, suprised that you can even speak coherently with the fear rolling through you.
"Oh," She says to you. "Can you hold on?" You tell her that you can. You hear her talking to someone in the background. "It's that kid calling about the ninjas again. What do you want me to tell him?"
Suddenly you hear someone else pick up the phone. It is an older man. He sounds agitated. "Listen here, you snot nosed stupid little punk! Your ninjas attacking bullshit is in no way amuzing! There are serious crimes out there being commited even as we speak and here we are wasting our time talking to you about an invading clan of ninjas! We don't have time for stupid highschool pranks! If you're that bored, call the grocery store and ask if they have olive oil in a bottle and tell them that Popeye is getting pissed about it so they'd better let her out! But don't call the police with some stoner hallucination about ninjas, damn it!!" The phone slams down and a dial tone greets you.
That went well. You decide that you need to arm yourself to be defended against ninjas, since you're obviously not going to get any help from the local law enforcement. You start searching the house. The best you can find is your aluminum baseball bat. Thinking about it, you have a redneck cousin who certainly has enough firearms to attack a small country. But he lives almost half an hour away. Do you call him up, or decide not to waste your time with him and get ready to bludgeon the shit out of these ninja-fucks?