Ninja Weasle & the Blanket of Infinite Doom

It was not, stricktly speaking, a traditional funeral.
But, Uncle Lew and his buddies were not traditional boys...
So, while his mates from the Tri-Villian Bowling league tied 'Get Well Soon' balloons to the coffin, Uncle Lew's brother Braddie played the M*A*SH theme, 'Suicide Is Painless', on his kazoo.
Ninja had been wailing since he woke up. The Blanket, however, felt that if Uncle Lew had wanted him to cry then he would have left The Blanket his collection of stuffed roadkill hit by famous people(or at least their limos).
The two friends sat down in a pair of vinal fold out chairs, eating what Uncle Lew's wife, Lolette, was calling the 'Wake Cake'. It was baked with love by Lew's sister Maple, and was triple choclate with mock cream, egg shell and anchovie filling, it had robins egg blue icing and fluro pink writing that read 'Happy Birthday Bernie'. In her spare time Maple liked to write letters to George Washington to complain about the Terrydaktyle in her pantry. The Blanket only hoped this completely mental loop-the-loop wasn't hereditary.
"Why...sniff..do...snnnnnif...they call...scak...it a...shnort...wake." Nija blew his nose loudly and stuffed some more cake into his mouth. "I mean.. he obviously isn't a-wake, is he." That stared a whole new round of wailing and blubbering.
The Blanket sighed and, leaving his half eaten slice of Birthday cake on the seat, in a fervent hope that someone would either sit on it or eat it, he snuck off to find Earnest The Rather Malevolent Chipmunk of Impending Ruin.
He didn't have to look far... Ernest was playing bad air guitar to 'My Sharona' atop the coffin. The Blanket could only surmise that the Chipmunk had partaken of the 'Super Memorial Sake Festival' which Lew's buddies had organised in the men's bathroom. The Blanket could have gone into a fit of post post-mortem rage, grabbed the Chipmuck off his Uncle's final resting box, and beat himsenseless with his imaginary guitar.
But instead, The Blanket realized that this was what Uncle Lew would have wanted. So, he grabbed a bottle of Sake off the nearest spandex-wearing reveller, downed the entire half-bottle in a few swigs, and crawled up next to Ernest to do a duet of 'Highway to Hell'.
If he'd have known that right at that moment, Ninja was asking Lew's neighbour's daughter her cup size, he might have needed another bottle of sake...
Or a shotgun.

"I want to get a cat." Ninja's voice was disembodied, since his body was fortressed inside a sleeping bag which was pulled tightly over his head. As many times as The Blanket had explained that the shadow on their tent was from a low hanging branch, Ninja was concvince, after one too many episodes of Supernatural, that it was a skin eating monster of some kind. So The Blanket sat up and ate crisps and tried to console and distract him as was best possible when the person your consoling and distracting keeps praying to a different god for salvation every ten minutes...
"A cat?" the Blanket threw a Salt and Vinegar packet away and moved in on the Chiken flavoured ones. "Must I reminde you what happened to the goldfish? Your mum still can't get the smell out of the carpet..."
"Buth I than't be an efil geniush wothout a that." Said the the sleeping bag. The Blanket had become fluent in this language,by nessecity. It happened every time they went camping...
"Are you an evil genius, though? I mean, minus the cat?"
Ninja popped out of the bag and frowned. "Well, duh... who else tries to take over the world?"
The Blanket shrugged. "Some would say George Bush. And he ain't no genius..." He passed the bag of chips to Ninja.
"Well...hehe... yeah." Ninja stuffed his nose in the bag and made a scarfing sound. The Blanket opened a new packet...
"Well, let's test you, ok? Do you enjoy threatening and or killing sauve British intelligence agents with outlandish schemes and pretty blond women?"
Ninja pulled his head out of the foil bag. "Um, no. Sounds like a lot of effort."
"Hum... Ok. Do you intend to live on an island and shave your head?"
Ninja threw the chip packet at The Blanket's head. "No! Chicks dig my hair..." He made a hair model flick and made his sexy face.
Suddenly The Blanket had lost his appetite.
"Ok, well, when you do take over the worl, do you want to populate it with evil minions who cause havoc, pain and suffering to all amn kind?"
Ninja thought about this for a second. "Just mean people?"
"No, everyone..."
Ninja's eyes widened. "Even puppies!!"
The Blanket sighed. "That settles it, you are not an evil genius."
Ninja frowned deeply. "Then why am I taking over the world?"
"Who says you have to be evil to take over the world? I mean, if being evil actually helped you take over the world, Dr. No or Barbara Streisen would have done it ages ago." The Blanket heard the house door open and his mother come out.
Ninja pondered that point. "Your right. I'm a... what's the opposite of evil?"
Should his mother not have popped her head in right at that moment, sending Ninja into a skin eating demon frenzy again, The Blanket seriosuly felt like something unpleasent would have happened...
"Honey, I need to tell you two something..."She knelt down between the two of them and said "It's about Uncle Lew..."

Uncle Lew. Uncle Lew was The Blanket's crazy old uncle, and Ninja's crazy old godfather... He sat in his front garden all day, dressed in a blue ducky robe, smoking a bubble pipe, yelling 'Ahoy there!' to people on the footpath and feeding his ornamental ducks with M&M's.
But in his day, Uncle Lew had been this close to taking over the world. He was known as 'The Towel of Impending Calamity'. And his name shook fear through the hearts of other super hero's and villians alike.
Uncle Lew used to sit Ninja and The Blanket on his knee and regail them with stories of lazers and missiles, and, when neither of their mothers were around, very very cheeky women who wore spandex...
Now, Uncle Lew was dead...

It was three am. Generally the time all good blankets were sound asleep in bed.
Which meant that The Blanket was probably a very good Blanket, being he had been in bed asleep since 9:30pm.
He was all snuggly and happy and was dreaming about having a rotary hook exchanger for the Machine. This was his first night of solid, deep sleep in a week.
You know that this can't last long, right?
The sound of rocks tapping aginst his window roused The Blanket from his slumber. He dragged himself out of bed top his window and shoved it open.
A rock few into the open window missing The Blanket's head by a facial hair... He didn't even blink. He didn't see the point.
"You are scary." Said The Blanket, a yawn dragging out the last syllable of scary into some kind of boogie manster noise.
"No, I'm odd. If I knew where Jessica Alba lived, then I could be scary..."
The Ninja Weasle was dressed head to toe in French cat burglar attire, with a bunch of fair sized rocks in one hand and a what looked suspiciously like a set of binoculars in the other.
The Blanket shook his head and slumped against the window sill. "What time is it?"
"Time to get up and smell the hottie!!!"
I hope he doesn't mean that literaly, was The Blanket's only thought.
"Have you been taking your infrared binoculars for a walk again?" He said tiredly.
Ninja looked sheepish. "Maybe."
"And what did you 'maybe' come across that you had to get me to see at... 3AM!!! Jesus Ninja...!"
"Holly Anderson posing nude for her boyfriends year twelve art project?" He sounded smug.
The Blanket glared down at Ninja. "I hate you."
Ninja smiled. "I'm not too fond of you either. Now get your caboose down here."
The Blanket felt that he had two options: he could go down there and strangle the little weasle, or he could go back to bed. Since strangulation took effort, The Blanket simply, and without a word, closed his window and slouched back to bed.
"Come on..."
The Blanket put a pillow over his head to drown out Ninja's plaintive crys of 'but she's really hot and your missing it!'
Which was quickly followed by a shriek that was a cross between heart-squishing fear and a prom queen seeing the tiara...
Which meant that Ninja had either hit himself with a rock or...
The Blanket stuck his head up out of the mass of linens andstrained his ears.
There was the faint sound of 'Aaaaaahhhhh!!!' and what sounded like a rhino line-dancing. The Blanket dragged himself to the window and stuck his head out. "Hi Earnest..."
The Rather Malevolent Chipmunk of Impending Ruin lowered the rocket launcher from its aim at a retreating weasle ass and peered up through half moon glasses at The Blanket. 'Ah, hullo, old mate! Wake you did I?"
The Blanket made a kind of limp 'Meh' gesture. "Nope. Ninja got to me already. Hows everything?"
Earnest pushed his glasses up with one finger and shrugged. "My thesis is 30000 words and I have only 5000 so far. Science camp was rather boring, I must admit. Too rowdy this year." He leaned forward like he was about to impart a great secret. "They were drinking wine at 4pm." He made a distainful face. "And singing. The Phantom of the Opera was not meant to be performed by twenty slightly drunken astrophysicists and eleven bio-engineers..." He gave a shudder. "I can begin to describe it..."
Please don't, thought The Blanket. While Earnest was a great guy, he was aterribly snob and was the kind of guy who was a wonderful friend, as long as you only had to wave to him from a great distance.
As the Blanket half-listened to Earnest talk about whatever The New Scientist had published on the front page, he began to wonder about what jhis new invention would be. The Blanket had been working on it for some time. He was stumped. Maybe a machine that wakes you up at 3am until you die of tiredness or annoyance, either way. Or maybe one that whines to you about classical music and the superiority of one smelly cheese over another until you take your own life...
Maybe one that sews the mouths of annoying friends shut on site.
The Blanket leant against the window sill and just as Earnest began a tirade about the benifits of reverse engineering, he smiled a silly little far off smile, meant for a land where sleep was at least 19 hours long and Chimpmunks were refused access to culture of any kind...

It was like watching a nature documentary, without that annoying British guy narrating. 'It' was Ninja, being spectacularly shot down by Tracy Gruber.
It was slightly pathetic. A lot like watching an annoying puppy get kicked. Its sad, but you've often felt like doing it yourself.

"Um, Tracy?" (not the best start)
"Yeah?" She glanced at him and went back to her burger.
"Um, I was wondering, you know, if, like, like you had time, or if you'd want to, you know..." (oh lord)
"No,Poindexter, I don't know. I don't even think you know." She took out a compact and started scrutinising her hair from various angles.
"Hahehaha..." The Blanket cut Ninja's nervous laughathon off with a sharp cough. "Oh? Oh. Um, yeah, well, I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime. With me. Together. You know, like... like a d-d-d-date." He cringed like he was about to be beaten about the head with a magically appearing, disembodied baguette. Tracy turned and stared at him.
The Blanket held his breath. For some reason the emotional well-being of his tiny mammal friend was important to him, despite the abscence of any sincere thoughts for The Blanket on Ninja's behalf.
Tracy stared a little more. The Blanket wondered if she was in shock or if this was just her natural processing speed.
"Ok. I'll say this once and once only, Geek boy. If you and I were the last humans on the earth planet and you'd discovered shampoo and breath mints I would still say fuck off. Loser." She turned back to her lunch, which The Blanket now ferverently praying would give her cellulite up to wazoo. But he had mre serious problems than finding a way to convince his God to afflict some chicks ass. He had to go find Ninja. Who had done a 30 second mile getting out of the cafe.
The Blanket sighed, picked up his books and followed at a much slower pace. "God, why didn't you grant me better friends? What did I ever do to you?" He whispered.

"I'm not coming out."
"You have class in an hour..."
"In an hour I'll be dead."
"Ninja..."
"NO! I'm going to slash my wrists."
"Your in a university toilet. What are you going to use? Alcohol abuse pamplets? Death by a thousand paper cuts?"
"This is not funny."
Actually, it was. "I know. But its her loss and..."
The Blanket was cut off by a loud wail, like hearing a pre-pubescent sea lion singing Celine Dion. He sighed. This was going to take a while.
And if Ninja didn't come out soon, he only had two options.
1. Leave him in the blasted toilet to sulk and go to their Anthropology class alone, at which point Gina woudld descend on him like a hawk in heavy make-up.

or

2. Kill himself. At least then he'd get some quiet. And hell, how bad could death be? Compared to Ninja, death might be a resort holiday with coconut drinks with umbrellas in them.

"It just hurts so much. I can't breath, Blanket, I feel like I can't breath!"

The Blanket sighed again. It was becoming his hobby. "Ninja, firstly, that is a line from Buffy. And secondly, if your going to die over a girl, can you make it one who isn't a gum popping skank?"
The stall door crashed open and Ninja launched himself out at The Blanket like a little hairy, tear soaked missile. Unfortunatly, for Ninja at least, he misjudged The Blanket's possition and crashed into a hand basin. The Blanket bent over him, as he altered between sobbing and moaning loudly. "I'll call an ambulance."
The drive to the hospital was uneventful, unless you count Ninja asking for a scalpel to dig his heart out with from the ambo. The waiting room lived up to its name, being that the two of them waited for nearly two hours before they got an examination room all of their own. And a nurse that gave Angelina Jolie a run for her money.
As the Blanket sat in the hall he heard, faintly the words "Um, I was wondering, you know, if, like, like you had time, or if you'd want to, you know..."

What with the fact that Vegas was clean on the other side of the continent, and that our heros had spent a majority of their Evil Funds on not jumping out of a plane, the planned kidnapping sort of... fell through.
Which meant that on Monday Ninja was considerably angry at the world, more than was usual for a Monday at least. University was giving him an extensive vocabularly with which to verbally bash the living beans out of the entire institution. Which was driving The Blanket crazy, because Ninja was miss-using each and every single word over two syllables long...
"This place is highly idiosyncratic." Said Ninja, throwing his nose in the air and glaring at a passing arts student.
"The uni is eccentric?" Said The Blanket, quite dubiously.
"No, the uni is dumb, it stupid. Its idiosyncratic." Ninja rolled his eyes at The Blanket's obviously lack of culture.
"Idiosyncartic means to have an eccentric, or peculiar habit. The word your looking for is idiotic."
Ninja huffed out a sullen breath. "You're such a pragmatist..."
"Actually I'm more aptly a..." The Blanket let the sentence fade out as he watched Ninja begin to drool on his text book.
Ninja was watching Tracy from Applied Science shake her tightly clad ass across the quad. "Sigh." Said Ninja.
The Blanket didn't quite understand Ninja's fascination with the woman. She was shallow and skanky, she could hardly construct a coherent sentence and she listened to Simple Plan nonstop on her IPod, which in itself told The Blanket she had all the taste of a dung beetle.
But today was the day Ninja had sworn that he was going to ask her out. So The Blanket was in supportive best friend mode, with a side helping of distaste and a healthy serve of boredom.
The only question now was if Ninja, the self-proclamed king of the ladies, would have the stones to actually do it.
The Blanket doubted it.