Monday, September 05, 2011



To Waitrose for essential supplies of cake and biscuits.

Alas, my way to the tasty, tasty cookies was blocked by a little old lady trying to reach the premium brands made from Soylent Green and plutonium ore on the top shelf, and failing miserably.

And then, like a veritable biscuity waterfall, she knocks a deluge of packets from the shelf, all destined for the floor, closely followed by a skip round the back.

Time. Stops.

I lunge forward. Left hand. Right hand. Snatching the plummeting packets from the air, handing them off into my trolley before going back for more.

I am a blur, dressed head-to-toe in black, and not one of those biscuits hits the floor. NOT ONE.

"Woah," said a passing dude, "Ninja skills!"

And he is correct. My Ninja skills are indeed l33t. And there lies the problem: My l33t Ninja skills have been witnessed by members of the public, who may identify me as a Ninja.

Seconds later, the problem is resolved.

Then, I bought myself a nice packet of - oh-ho! - Ninja Biscuits and went home.

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