The Panda Assassin

The Way of the Octogenarian

I finally got a commission. Not a hit. But a protection job. This was my big chance. I was told to guard a foreign politician from terrorists. I vowed to fulfil my task in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu.

It was all going smoothly until I spotted a disturbance. "GO, GO, GO!" I screamed at my team. Together we tackled the brutal maniac. Adept Awabi and Brother Unagi moved like the salmon flowing up a waterfall as they rushed to tackle this threat. Then we flattened him. He tried to fight but one man, however determined, has no chance against a group of ninjas - a group of ninjas led by a panda.

Our actions were proved correct by the fact that the thug was held under his country's terrorism act. God knows how many people he might have killed if we had not intervened.

The Way of the Frozen Shard

I think I'm suffering from anger management issues, not at all in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu. Master Toro, the dojo's most feared individual: our finance director, was going through my earnings to date. He basically compared my meagre revenue against the cost of my food and lodging.

To effectively illustrate the urgency of the shortfall, he then discussed how much panda genitals sell for in the traditional medicines market.  "It's not like you use them anyway, that's why you lot are all nearly extinct," he added.

I snapped. In less than half a moment I had performed the Way of the Frozen Shard, striking in a heartbeat. (Now, as a Giant Panda, I move slowly. But that is only in relation to other ninjas. Compared to deskbound beancounters, I move like greased lightning on rollerskates.) 

In accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu , I focused my Ki and jumped - no, flowed - onto Master Toro's desk. In an almost Zen-like trance I span, my left paw crushing his neck while my right right hand punched out the nearby window. As I continued my rotation, my right paw caught him in a certain spot behind the ear, disconnecting his brain from its stem. By this time, my left hand had caught a piece of the broken glass. In a finishing move I drove this into his heart (this is the frozen shard), my momentum wrenching the still-beating organ from his chest.  As a finale I impaled it on his beloved red pencil.

I'd say the whole process took less than half a second. I didn't mean to do it. It was instinctive. You insult my kind? You insult my mother. You insult my mother? I kill you. No, I don't just kill you, I make sushi from your vitals, sever your nethers and wrap your intestines round your torso like tinsel on a Christmas tree, while you are still talking.

Yes, less than half a second. Blink and you'd miss it. Master Toro didn't blink. He had seen the whole thing.  He had seen the whole thing from behind the practice dummy he had slipped into his chair while I focused my Ki and jumped - no, flowed - onto his desk. (Now, that's fast.)

By and large, finance directors don't like it when you try to kill them. And Ninja finance directors don't mess around with reports to HR and rigorous examination of your expenses. For a moment Master Toro regarded me cautiously.

I knew I was dead. He moved so fast I would not stand a chance against his attack. It would be over before he realised it had begun, never mind me.

He spoke: " So you are not aware that I worked at our craft for 30 years? Oh yes, friend panda, I was not always a ... 'deskbound beancounter', as you put it."

I knew I was dead. He moved so fast I would not stand a chance against his attack and he could read my mind. (A useful skill when it comes to expenses claims, I suppose.) In a second he was behind me. I swear he didn't move. One split second he was on the other side of the desk. Then he was speaking in my ear.

"Still, that was a well-executed move, if slow. Unlike most, you kept your right foot - sorry, paw - at the correct angle, in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu. You show promise. That's the reason you are not dead already. You're worth more to us alive.

"However, your genitals are still up for grabs. And, no, not in that sense."

He then deducted the cost of his destroyed practice dummy from my future earnings. Master Toro then told me to start earning or get used to a different style of trousers.

Not a good day.

The Way of the Nagging Doubt

I am going through a bit of a crisis. I have always wanted to be a ninja, ever since I was a baby panda. While other panda cubs were eating bamboo and lying about, I would be creeping through the undergrowth wielding my lunch like a sword.

I was so quiet I once stumbled on my parents making love in the way that only pandas do. My Dad was lying on his back saying: "I really can't be bothered. Can you?" My Mum, who was lying beside him, said: "Me neither. Fancy some bamboo?"

For years I struggled to be accepted into the Way of the Ninjitsu. Finally, I was taken on as an apprentice. Finally, I passed the lethal tests of ninjahood and have become an Adept, able to kill silently and efficiently with a variety of weapons. Able to disappear into the shadows afterwards.

But I'm not getting any work. And I need the money. I get my basic pay from the Order but, frankly, that only covers my four-kilo-a-day bamboo habit.

It appears there just isn't much call for a covert assassin who is a slow-moving, passive, endangered, 260lb ball of black and white fluff.

I take refuge from my troubles the only way I know how: "Quick, Watson, the shoots and leaves."

The Way of the Synergistic Upscales

We ninjas are a traditional bunch. While we will use modern weapons to eliminate our targets (like the Accuracy International L96, the Heckler and Koch HK50 Tactical Fixed Blade or the music of Celine Dion), we prefer the ninjato, the kunai and the naginata, in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu.

However, we move with the times. And it was this that brought Honourable Richard ("call me Dick") Green, Consultancy Solutions Facilitator, up the long, lonely, winding path through the dark forest that hides our fortress.

With his PowerPoint presentation, briefing documents and very large tie knot, he told the assembled brethren how that we needed to "downscale out-revenues", "efficientise head-counts" and reduce our cost-base by "synergising 24/7/365 technologies.to maximise dynamic infrastructures", in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu.

After being asked for clarification several times by Master Hamzo, it emerged that Honourable Richard ("call me Dick") Green, was suggesting:

A) We avoid using our weapons as this caused wear and tear to valuable material assets.

B) We abandon the traditional "black pyjamas" (his expression) in favour of brightly "branded" uniforms decorated with highly coloured logos, mission statements and sponsorship slots.

C) We sell our top secret mountain base to a property developer and move to an open plan office in a fashionable "highly-visible commercial space solution" in the finance district of a major city.

When Master Hamzo pointed out that these ideas would be hard to reconcile with our "key performance indicators" of A) killing people, B) without being seen and C) operating in utmost secrecy, Honourable Richard ("call me Dick") Green told him that he needed "to get with the programme", "adjust his negative attitude to innovation" and "become a team player". He added that there was no "I" in team.

He told Master Hamzo that the board had engaged him to revitalise the operation and that anyone who wanted to keep their job needed to "examine our learnings to innovate how we develop this function moving forward to deliver on our objectives".

Master Hamzo bowed his head slightly, in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu on the Way Of The Proper Respect For A Servant Of The Master. Surely it was only my imagination that he also made a very slight hand gesture.

It has been three days since Honourable Richard ("call me Dick") Green started back down the long, lonely, winding path back to the town - a walk of four hours at most. He has yet to emerge from the dark forest that hides our fortress.

The Way of the Tricky Lie

When I awoke this morning I sudden feeling of dread grabbed me. This is normal given that I sleep in the same dorm as Brother Niguri. But this morning it was particularly acute.

I sat and calmed myself through meditation, in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu Upon The Terrors Of The Morning, and came to realise an important truth: I think someone is trying to kill me.

Troubled, I went to see Master Hanzo in the Masters' Wing. I found him relaxing in his normal manner by decapitating mice with a mashie niblick (in accordance with the teachings of the Ninjitsu On The Way Of The Rodent In A Tricky Lie) in the refectory.

I cleared my throat and said: "Master Hanzo, do you think somebody is trying to kill me."

After a nasty slice sent entrail over the cheeseboard, he turned and said: "Adept Calgacus, we live in an ancient fortress filled with assassins. It is entirely possible somebody is trying to kill you. But let me reassure you of this one person will be trying to kill you if you interrupt my swing again."

Quite why the words left my mouth, I do not know. Perhaps it was the early hour. Perhaps it was Master Hanzo's kindly nature. Perhaps it was my fear. But I blurted out: "You call that a swing?"

Thus it was that he introduced me to the Way Of The Nine Iron In The Soft Body Parts and, later, The Way Of The Removal Of The 100 Golf Balls From The Personal Cavities.