A Fuckton of Polygrumps

Ninja Sex Party Origin Pt. 2

Synopsis: Continuation of the first but not in first person because as fun as it is to write as Dan, there's a lot that happens that isn't going to be told as well as it would be with omniscience. So, enjoy!

"Wakey wakey, ninja milk shakey!" Dan chirped eagerly, sitting on Brian's bed and holding out a tray of breakfast.

Brian's eyes shot open and he rolled over. He looked groggy, even with his face covered by the mask. He blinked several times, looking almost more like a teenager than a terrifying killing machine.

"Come on! Get up! I made some kickass breakfast," Dan said cheerfully, scratching at his wild hair like a dog. "Also, I used up all the milk making that pancake batter, so...sorry!"

Brian squinted as Dan opened the blinds, letting in an obscene amount of sunlight. Without removing his mask, he took a bite of the pancakes and nodded with silent approval. Dan stood at the window, taking in the sunshine. Brian saw the perfect opportunity to take the lanky idiot down. He lunged forward, stabbing him in the back with one of the many weapons he kept handy. Dan gasped, wincing, but merely held his wounded area.

"Uh...? Ow. If you didn't want pancakes, you just had to say so," Dan said with a yawn, pulling the knife out of his back. "Also, that's totally not cool, dude."

Brian sat back, crossing his arms like a grumpy child. Killing him would be harder than he thought. Dan gasped, walking towards something shimmering in the corner of the room. He picked up what turned out to be a black bass guitar, running his fingers along the neck gently.

"Wicked bass, dude! Do you play?"

Brian shook his head and pointed to a keyboard.

"Oh, that's cool too," Dan said cheerfully. "We should jam together sometime, huh?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be," Brian scribbled on his whiteboard.

"See...that's the thing," the taller one said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "I uh, I live in a car right now. It's kinda what happens when you spend more time writing music than trying to find a decent job. I mean, I'm a smart guy...I just...fuckin'...I wanna be a musician that's famous or whatever and I'm not there yet. I'm 26 years old, and I'll be famous soon, I swear!"

"Out." Brian wrote. "You need to leave. Like, now."

Dan nodded as if he understood and slipped on his gross Sketchers sneakers.

"Thanks for fixing me up and letting me stay the night, man, that's pretty rad of you. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Brian nodded once and held the door open, seemingly glad to get rid of the annoying, lanky, stoner. Dan walked back the way he came, through the alley, and to a beat up looking blue Corola. He sat in the car for a few hours, writing lyrics based on the mysterious blue eyed ninja he met the night before.

"Hey there, Ninja Brian...We're perfect together..." he began, strumming his guitar lightly.