So on another forum we're having a little Mall Ninja short fiction contest with a really crappy tattykewl knife with a $200 polish job done on the edge by a forum member. I got rolling with a little piece and ended up putting in a paragraph about a Girl Scout, a yellow handled Case Peanut given to her fictional self by a character referred to as Jackknife. So I thought y'all might enjoy the little snippet of fiction here.
Manny (secretly a correspondence course trained ninja) was walking out of the local grocery chain with his latest copy of Tactical Knives in hand. He dearly wanted to subscribe, but he knew his mother would go domestic terror on him if he didn't make it to the mailbox before her on the day each issue arrived. This was a very real tactical scenario as Manny often got caught up with important missions on the XBox with his remotely based team or was deep into training sessions via YouTube.
This though was the day things went south and he had to put all his training to use. As he was leaving the store he was accosted by two provocateurs wearing paramilitary uniforms and shoving boxlike objects at him. Clearly these were weapons, or at least hiding weapons.
Fearing for his life Manny whipped out his rolled copy of TK in his left hand as a guard as Sifu Phil had shown him in the DVD. With his right hand he snapped his polished edged, tattykiller special Ninja blade out of his pocket. The clip falling away as the knife cleared. (Was it supposed to do that? Perhaps this was the demilitarized version of the knife that also doubled as a hand grenade.)
As he yelled, "Stay back! I'm trained in several forms of knife fighting, improvised weapons, and hand to hand combat by the internet's leading martial arts guru, Master Phil!" Meanwhile Manny tried to cover the fact that he was fumbling opening his knife by acting as if it was part of his knife technique.
Sadly, the blood that began flowing was Manny's as he managed to cut himself in several places before finally being able to drop the knife. It was most fortunate for Manny that the Girl Scouts who had approached him selling cookies had passed their First Aid courses and were able control their laughter sufficiently to apply pressure bandages to stop the bleeding.
As one of the girls finished wrapping Manny's hand she slipped a tiny, yellow handled knife out of her knee high sock and opened the tiny clip blade to cut the wrapping. As the gauze parted before the little blade as though it were a light saber the Girl Scout said, "This is a Case XX Yellow Delrin scaled Peanut in CV steel. My great uncle Jackknife gave it to me when I was 7 and showed me how to sharpen, use, and maintain it. THIS is a knife!"
No one has heard from Manny since his mother discovered him trying to slip quietly into the basement, a bloody copy of Tactical Knives held between bandaged hands. Last anyone would speculate was that he had been confined to the utility room on permanent dryer lint detail.
