Michael Chan, Master of Ninjutsu and Frisbee Foo
My previous post about my past has gotten me all nostalgic and stuff. So, here are 2 quick stories from a very interesting part of my life. And, by interesting, I mean involving me making costumes of Japanese cartoon characters I like and wearing them at comic book conventions and other such events. Yes, I had a wild... err... wildly nerdy past!
MASTER OF NINJUTSU
The first story takes place in High Park. There was a time when I hung out with a group of people who had a huge obsession with taking the whole convention costuming thing outside of events. So, many "photo shoots" and "picnics" were arranged on weekends in places like parks, zoos, amusements parks, malls, tennis courts, Centre Island, CN Tower, etc. etc. etc. One of the photo shoots I participated in one sunny summer day was at High Park.
The costume I was wearing was from the Japanese ninja cartoon series "Naruto". It was an extremely popular series at the time and there were quite a few people with costumes from it. After a long day of posing like a bunch of tools on trees, rocks, waterfalls, and park benches, the group decided to make their way to the Grenadier Cafe for some refreshments.
Now, there were these 2 guys in the group that many considered to be pranksters, though their attempts at causing chaos usually ended up backfiring in hilarious fashion. And, who do you think they decided to target for a "prank" at High Park? If you guessed yours truly, you get 10 points for Gryffindor!
As we made our way to the cafe, one of the guys started talking to me. I didn't think much of it at first, but then he started to giggle between sentences. Seriously? Really? GIGGLING? Anyway, I snuck a few peeks around me whenever the guy wasn't really paying attention and noticed his accomplice about 50 feet to my left holding a Nerf football. The guy clearly thought I didn't notice him since he was actually making practice throw motions with his arm at me as he sidestepped in order to keep pace with my walking. Anyway, when Mr. Football finally decided it was time to "prank" me, he wound up like he was trying to throw the heaviest rock on the planet, kicked his leg up like a baseball pitcher, and then proceeded to throw his Nerf football at my head.
Not surprisingly, the guy who was talking to me was giggling hysterically at this point since he thought I was going to get my head bashed in by a foam toy. Of course, I wanted this whole thing to fail as badly for them as possible, so I kept talking and kept my head at an angle where I could still see the ball coming in my peripheral vision. At the last second, I raised my left arm without turning my head and caught the ball.
Silence.
At least a minute went by as I held my pose for effect. Both pranksters were frozen. Finally, when I felt the time was right, I slowly turned my head to look at the football in my hand, smirked, and then let the ball drop. When it hit the ground, the guy next to me exploded. Figuratively. He was jumping up and down with his hands on his head in disbelief at my "lightning reflexes". Mr. Football bounced up to us like Tigger on crack and told his buddy that there was one and only one explanation for how I was able to foil their dastardly plans:
I was a Master of Ninjutsu.
I kid you not. They thought I was a friggin' ninja. For the rest of the day, and the rest of the summer, those two went around telling anyone who would listen that they knew a Ninja Master.
MASTER OF FRISBEE FOO
The second story I have for your consumption takes place at Centre Island. An extremely large group of costumers decided that it was a fantastic idea to "invade" the island and have a picnic. I had a free ferry pass that summer, so I thought it would be nice to go check things out. Plus, several of my friends were going, so I would get to spend some quality time with them.
My trusty "Naruto"-themed costume was chosen for its simplicity. I mean, it was going to be a hot day. No need to cover myself in a hundred layers of fabric! The picnic itself was nothing special. We mostly sat around eating and took pretentiously-posed photos. Despite the abundance of Asians who visit Centre Island, I think our little gathering broke the world record for the number of times the peace sign was used in pictures. Yeesh!
Anyway, a few hours in, a couple of guys remembered that they had brought a frisbee with them and started to throw it around. At the same time, this one guy, who I will name Mark, decided to show off his "Self-Taught Martial Arts" skills. Oh, Mark. This guy would always show up at costume-based outings boasting about his mad skillz and telling people they needed to have discipline in their lives in order to be happy and successful. He felt he was a genuine guru and made sure everyone knew how he thought. The thing, though, was that he never actually demonstrated any of his supposedly sick moves... until that day at Centre Island. And, yes, I was the unlucky one chosen to be his "opponent".
Okay, so there I was sitting at a picnic table eating some fruit or other when Mark walks up to me, gets into a very cheesy-looking martial arts pose, screams at the top of his lungs, and then declares that he is challenging me to a duel. Without putting down my fruit or looking at the guy, I asked him what on Earth he was talking about. His response was that he was going to show everyone just how powerful his self-taught martial arts was, and since I was known to have a Black Belt in Kung Fu (Note: I DID NOT have a Black Belt in any martial arts. I did, however, have a Triple Black Belt in Common Sense.), I was the perfect opponent to defeat.
Before I could respond again, Mark rushed me and threw a series of very sloppy punches at my chest. I jumped off my seat and started backing away as the guy continued to push forward with a hilarious flurry of attempted punches and palm strikes. After landing a total of zero hits, Mark got frustrated and attempted Chun-Li's patented Lightning Kick. When I say "attempted", I meant he just stood there and threw slow right kick after slow right kick at me in the exact same place. I stood there and just kept pushing his leg away over and over and over again. It really looked quite comical if you think about it. Ha! Anyway, as Mark continued his Lighting Kick attack, the frisbee I mentioned earlier landed at my feet. It was then that I decided to end this "battle". I mean, despite the fact that it was stupid and nobody was getting hurt, if security saw this, they would probably call the cops. So, while still pushing Mark's leg away repeatedly, I bent down, picked up the frisbee, aimed very slowly and deliberately to see if Mark would notice (... NOPE...), and then threw the disc right into the guy's cheek. Lightly.
Like a scene out of "Power Rangers", Mark jumped several feet backwards, landed on his butt, and rolled away. Well, okay, it was more like flopping away, but I knew he was trying to roll. Everybody was staring at this point. Mark was twitching on the ground like he had been Tasered. I was standing there staring at the guy in disbelief.
It took a while, but Mark finally stopped his dramatics and got up. He marched over to me, put one hand on my shoulder, and said, "Master, I have been humbled by your superior form. What do you call this Martial Art?"
I thought I was in Bizarro World at this point. Did this guy seriously just say that?! Well, by the way he was looking at me and by the looks of the extremely stupid-looking pose he was in, he did. Oh, boy.
After a giant sigh, I responded:
"My friend, you have been defeated by Frisbee Foo."
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BONUS CONTENT:
I am adding this in after the fact because I think it's hilarious. After my epic battle with Mark, the day went rather smoothly until we all were lined up for the ferry back to Toronto. Mark, carrying a bo staff, approached me and said that he wanted to get my opinion of his newly-self-taught staff fighting form. Before I could stop him, the guy started flailing the bo staff around like the Star Wars Kid and missed a little girl's head by a few inches. I yelled, "STOP!" and, to my surprise, Mark did. Of course, that didn't stop the little girl's tall, fit, and super muscular dad from making a beeline towards Mark. In a split second decision, I put myself between the dad and Mark and started to apologize on Mark's behalf for being a complete idiot. I really didn't want the dad getting in trouble with the law for caving in Mark's face and my insistance that Mark was mentally challenged actually worked in terms of turning the big man around. A few months later, I got a message on this forum I used to visit that Mark was on, too, It was from Mark and he apologized for the chaos he caused at Centre Island. I told him that it was nothing and that I'm glad he was trying to make up for his mistakes. A month after that message, Mark groped a girl's breasts at a Birthday party he was invited to.
THE END