Date: Tue, 30 May 95 04:32:30 BST
From: Raz 
Subject: The ninja thing...

The long street was silent now, and although one or two sodium streetlights
still remained to cast stuttering shadows along the pavements, most of the
scene was illuminated by only the pale glow of the moon.  Somewhere in the
distance a dog howled mournfully.

Presently, a dark figure emerged at one end of the street, and, staying
close to the shadows and hugging the walls that lined this strange street,
made it's way stealthily towards a certain spot.  As it passed under one of
the streetlights, it could be seen that the figure was dressed in black
ninja garb, dark eyes and a brown ponytail that protruded from between the
collar and hood of the ninja suit were the only distinguishing features, and
it seemed to be carrying two large cans.  Conscious of the light, the figure
scanned the street as it walked, eyes everywhere, it seemed, except on the
direction it moved, as was made clear when it fell noisily over a garbage
can.

Through the resounding clang, an alleycat screeched and launched itself at
it's attacker.

"Yaaarggh!  Gerrof!" shouted the ninja-type in a somewhat familiar male
voice, flailing his arms at the cat that seemed intent on gouging out his
eyes.  Blind, the dark figure slipped on the bottles spilled from the
trashcan and fell comically, bottles spinning and clattering along the
asphalt beside him.

After a brief struggle the feline was dislodged, and it raced off, hissing.

"Bloody hell," the figure muttered, rising to his feet, "wish I'd brought
that sword along, now..."

He picked up his two fallen cans and hurried a few meters further down the
street, then stopped and looked up at the huge billboards that were his
target this night.  Behind the ninja facecloth, the figure pursed his lips,
narrowed eyes scanning the lettering on the boards. 'CMA trivia, day one'
said the first, going on to describe a promotional flier for the Better Than
Life novel... in great detail.  The second much smaller, yet somehow
conveyed as much brashness as it's predecessor. 'CMA trivia, day two', it
brayed, and spoke of the song the RD cast would sing during the recording of
series 6.  Carefully, the ninja-bloke set down his two cans, pulled a
paint-scraper from the folds of his garb, and prised off the tops.  Then,
taking a wide paintbrush from one inside pocket, and a twelve-foot
industrial-size ladder from another, he set to work...


..Hours later, four more figures walked menacingly down the same street.
In the pre-light glow of the rapidly-approaching dawn it could be seen that
one was laden down with posters, badges and signs, while the others carried
musical instruments of diverse and frightening variety.  All four stopped at
the base of the ladder and looked up at the industrious ninja above.  The
one festooned in 'CMA!' badges and carrying the signs landed a hefty kick on
the ladder, and as he stood patiently, grunts and curses could be heard as
the ninja slid down to ground level.

"Oof!  Oowya!  Urg - Ack - Oww!"  went the black-robed painter, landing in a
heap on the pavement.  Looking up at the four men he groaned.  Reketrebn -
aka "Knuckles", and his cronies: "Crazy" Meg Apple, "Cool" Mikey Aloha and
Carl "Megaton" Amplifier.

"Just what in the name of Crafted Metal Apples do you think you're doing?"
murmured Reke, placing peculiar emphasis on the 'c', 'm' and 'a'.

"Who, me?", asked the ninja, giggling nervously and looking for anyone else
the bruisers might be referring to.  "Oooh, I'm just enjoying the night
air... you know?  Wanted to take another look at CMA's posts, that's all."

"Very ComMendAble," grunted Cool Mikey, strumming a note on his mandolin and
also talking strangely.

"So why then," continued Reke, "and I acCept this May sound like A peculiar
question, are your hands covered in red paint?" He paused for his henchmen
to laugh at his subtle joke, but it seemed to go over their heads.  "The
same Colour, some Might say, As the still-wet graffiti with which *some*
vandal has recently daubed those same posts..."

"Lawks!", warbled the ninja, "I'm rumbled!"

"Hang on a minute," Reke growled, shifting his load of posters to give
himself a free fist, "do I know you from somewhere..?  You Certainly sound
faMiliAr..." Without warning he yanked the flimsy cloth from over the
ninja's worried face.

"Raz!" cried Reke, appalled upon seeing the unmasked perpetrator.  "Who
would've thought it!?"

"It wasn't meeee!!" Raz squeaked, "You've got the wrong ninja!  You think
*I'd* write 'CMA is an alchy' and 'CMA tells porkies!' in handwriting *that*
bad??" He blustered.  "I'm hurt!  In fact, I think I shall speak to you no
more this night, and if you'll excuse me I'll be on my way!"

"Lads," Reke instructed solemnly, and two of his bruisers grabbed the
hastily departing Raz.  Ignoring his indignant protests he we flung roughly
against the very words he sought to debunk.

"I'm afraid to say, old fruit," Reke announced, rolling up one of his
'CMA is POTY!' posters and rapping it meaningfully against his palm, "that
we're going to have to teaCh you just how high the stakes *are* these
days...  Well, boys?  There's no tiMe like the present, As they say."

Raz cringed in the grip of the two bullyboys, eyes locked on Reke's
poster-bat, as it's wielder turned to his third henchman.

"You *did* bring along those Andean pipes of yours, didn't you, Carl?" Reke
asked, thoughtfully.  "I think we may be needing them..."

Raz [email protected]