The Admiral's Ninja

     Not that he was doing particularly well in recent years. Ah, to be youthful again! Back when his stomach could bear the great dishes of cheeses and yoghurts and pizzas that were often on display. Back when the Food Club catered much more to a healthy sense of living – large amounts of fruits and vegetables – rather than the thrill of the competition. Nowadays he fell behind, unable to tolerate dairy anymore, and his once best friend Gooblah the Grarrl stole all the glory, to the point where the two of them barely said a word to each other now.

     No matter. He wasn’t a Chomby who would give up easily – he was a fearsome pirate after all, and an Admiral at that. His fine black scutes were known to all even at a distance, let alone his impressive deep crimson velvet jacket and black hat that signalled to all he had importance. The Food Club was a passing fancy to him now, not to be taken too seriously.

     But it still hurt that Gooblah barely acknowledged him anymore.

     “Cap’n!”

     Blackbeard’s thoughts were disturbed by one of his newer crewmates, a Pirate Mynci called Sammie who wore a rather fetching pink and white striped t-shirt. One of his eyes was covered by a patch, but according to a couple of the others who worked on the ship this was merely for show as he wanted Blackbeard to think he was tough. The idea amused Blackbeard enough that he vowed never to let Sammie know he was aware of the truth.

     “What is it, Sammie? And I’m an Admiral, not a Captain, as I’ve said thousands of times!”

     “There be someone in the water, Cap’n, er, Admiral, sir! Should we fish ‘im out?”

     “Someone in the water?” Admiral Blackbeard hurried to where other members of the crew were now staring overboard. Sure enough, there in the waves, holding onto a plank of wood, was a Neopet, drenched from the ocean and dressed all in black, with a blue undercover that peeked out at their sleeve ends and around their eyes. Everything else was covered.

     “Pull them up, ye idiots!” the Admiral shouted. Honestly, he could despair of his crew sometimes, he really could.

     After a few minutes of a panicked rescue, the stranded Neopet was on board. Despite their ordeal, they didn’t seem particularly frightened, and instead bowed to the Admiral in respect. Clutched in their hands was a sword with a green helm, but it was clear they weren’t here to cause trouble, as they placed it on the decking almost immediately when they realised what it could suggest to a group of pirates.

     “Thank you,” they said, their voice whispery and low. “I am Niten Hiroru. I had not anticipated the strength of the tide. Being on land is my forte.”

     Niten Hiroru. The name was instantly familiar.

     “Yer a famous Ninja,” the Admiral said, as Niten nodded in response. “What are ye doing out in Krawk Island? And on the sea?”

     “I was dealing with something troublesome,” Niten replied. “That deed was done, but I had not judged the weather. I am so rarely off land I forget the power of the ocean, and how unpredictable it can be. My small boat soon capsized, and I was left clinging to that plank of wood.” He closed his eyes for a moment, as if in shame. “It is rather embarrassing for someone as skilled as myself to admit.”

     “We’ll soon be on shore,” Admiral Blackbeard said gruffly. “Then ye can be on yer way.”

     The Kiko nodded, but seemed unsatisfied. “I must repay you in some form.”

     “Repay me?” The Admiral liked the sound of that. “Have ye got any treasure?”

     Niten Hiroru shook his head. “I do not mean material goods. Some sort of favour. I am a Ninja, after all. I can sneak into places well enough but I have an honest heart – I will not be a thief. Is there anything else you can think of that I could do for you?”

     The Admiral was about to say no, that if he had no treasure he had better be on his way, but as the ship pulled into Krawk Island’s harbour and he could see the Food Club building in the distance, he had an idea.

     “Ye won’t be a thief,” he said. “I understand that. But could ye sneak into the Food Club and make sure that there are only Slushies available to eat for the competition tonight?”

     There was a pause as Niten Hiroru considered this. “I won’t waste food,” he said. “I will give the food to the Soup Kitchen for them to distribute, and I will leave a purse of Neopoints for the facilitators to ensure they have not lost out.”

     “That’s fine!” Admiral Blackbeard grinned. What did he care what happened to the food? As long as all there would be tonight is slushies!

     “A rather famous allergy of a certain champion, no?” Niten Hiroru murmured.

     The ship had docked now and several of the crew were securing it to a number of wooden posts. It was becoming a bright afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, but the Admiral’s expression darkened at Niten’s words.

     “Are ye going to spit out yer point or just sidestep it?” he growled.

     “I was only observing.”

     “Well, I don’t need yer help if yer going to judge, ye landlubber.”

     “My apologies.” The Kiko bowed as the Admiral marched off the boat, and followed closely behind. “I do appreciate what you have done for me. And so I shall you do as you ask. Thank you again.”

     “Now, see here –” But when the Admiral turned around to chastise the ninja some more, he realised Niten Hiroru had vanished.

     [i]Swifter on land indeed[/i], he thought, amused. As long as he held up his end of their deal, tonight would be incredible. Finally, a real chance for Admiral Blackbeard to return to Food Club glory in style.

     * * *

     That night, the Food Club was as busy as ever. Held this week at Harpoon Harry’s, the crowds were jostling one another for the best seat to watch the competitors, who were all sat on a long table that faced out to the audience. The dishes hadn’t been brought out yet, and one chair was still conspicuously empty: the centre chair, where Gooblah the Grarrl took pride of place as the reigning champion of Food Club.

     Everyone else had arrived. Seated at the far end of the table, as befitted his position as current lowest ranking participant, Admiral Blackbeard couldn’t help feeling smug. That silly red Grarrl with his show-off late entrances had no idea what was to come.

     “Where’s our grog?” a particularly loud customer yelled, who seemed more interested in the waiting staff than the competition.

     “Here ye impatient swine!”

     Admiral Blackbeard was so focused on the ruckus ahead of him that he didn’t hear the deep, arrogant tones of a Grarrl he knew all too well until he was right behind him.

     “’Ere again, Admiral?”

     What was that meant to mean? Like he didn’t deserve to be here, like all the others?

     Blood boiling, the Admiral snapped back at him. “Yer one to talk, Gooblah, when all you ever do is show up late! It be an insult to the contest! Like ye don’t take it seriously.”

     Gooblah looked surprised at his harsh words, but recovered quick enough. “I was helpin’ an old Krawk with ‘er bags into ‘er boat on the ‘arbour. I can’t believe yer actually talkin’ to me.”

     “Me talking to you?” Admiral Blackbeard said, stunned. “It’s you who ignores me!”

     Gooblah shook his head. “Yer talkin’ nonsense. Ever since I beat ye in a fruit and vegetable Food Club match, ye told me ye would never speak to me as long as I live.”

     Admiral Blackbeard opened his mouth to protest this, then promptly closed it again. Was that true? Was that why Gooblah barely acknowledged him anymore? Because of some angry words said after he lost a contest? Was that really all that happened, that led to years of resentment on both sides?

     “Anyway, some strange bloke in a mask told me I should try and talk to ye tonight, so I thought to meself, why not? I’ve missed ye, ye daft landlubber.”

     Strange bloke in a mask?

     “Wait…” The Admiral gazed around the room, but the crowds were too thick. Was Niten Hiroru still here? Had he put Gooblah up to this? Was the competition not rigged in his favour after all?

     “Let’s get some grog after this,” Gooblah continued, unaware of the Admiral’s startled expression. He grinned, showcasing his shiny white teeth. “If ye can still stand.”

     “Avast ye bilge rats!” Harpoon Harry shouted above the noise. “Take yer seats and it’s time for the Food Club contest to begin!”

     “Speak to ye after,” Gooblah said, and then surprised them both by wrapping the Admiral in a warm hug. “Good to speak to ye again, old mate.”

     And off he went, leaving Admiral Blackbeard more confused than anything else. Confused, and emotional. Was this really all it took? A few kind words, and they could be friends again?

     But the menu!

     “Tonight, due to an odd mishap in me kitchen, we only have slushies!” Harpoon Harry announced. “So I hope ye all like a slushie, cause that’s all yer eatin’!”

     Niten Hiroru had done as asked…but now Admiral Blackbeard wasn’t sure if he wanted it!

     Sure enough, Gooblah looked horrified as the slushies began being served one by one. As the others began to drink them down, trying to achieve as many as possible, he could only sit there and look disgusted.

     It was the Admiral’s time for glory.

     Or he could fess up and tell everyone he had rigged it.

     He knew what the right thing to do was.

     And yet…

     Well, he was a pirate, wasn’t it? It’s not like had an honest living anyway.

     Just this once, he was going to take the glory.

     “Take that, Gooblah!” he called, but with a smile.

     And his old friend’s eyes twinkled back at him in amusement as he gulped down as many as he could.

     * * *

     “Orvinn the First Mate!” Gooblah howled with laughter, as he and Admiral Blackbeard staggered out of Harpoon Harry’s later that night. “Who would have thought it, hey?”

     “He has an even worse percentage win rate than me!” Admiral Blackbeard groaned. “How could I have lost to that fat old Bruce?”

     It was true. Despite consuming over thirty slushies – his record – Orvinn the First Mate had smashed all expectations when he downed forty-two. And now Admiral Blackbeard was nauseous and full of slushie – and for nothing.

     Well, perhaps not nothing.

     “Let’s go sailing tomorrow,” Gooblah said. “Just me and you, like old times. What do you say?”

     “Perfect,” the Admiral agreed.

     Far away from the two of them, observing from within the shadows, Niten Hiroru saw the two old friends stumbling down the cobbled street next to the harbour and allowed himself a small smile. The real debt had been paid after all.

     The End.