Yeh, this one's a bit silly & embarassing. :)
Beacon Street National Bank. Austin, Texas.
Beacon Street is a relatively local phenomenon. It is small, tends to a relatively limited base. And unlike busier locations it has not been deemed cost-effective to employ more than the one security officer. That had not been an issue in quite some time.
Today was different. Different as the breaks' screech heralded the arrival of the car. Different as the colorful figure burst through the doors. Different as the guard rose only to find himself struck in the forehead by... a yo-yo.
As the guard toppled, the strange man stood, replacing the yo-yo in his right hand as he continued attending to the yo-yo in his left. His goofy smile would have stood out like a sore... um... would have stood out had it not been surrounded by such a painfully gaudy outfit. From helmet to tights, he was completely covered in pictures of golden yo-yos on a blue background.
"I am the Yo-yo Man!" he announced, because these are the sorts of things that one announces in situations like this. His announcement was drowned out, however, by the sound of bullets.
One customer had withdrawn a concealed pistol and was firing, those bullets which found their mark completely failing to penetrate the outfit or to have any measureable impact. This customer soon joined the guard in unconsciousness.
Yo-yo Man squeezed his yo-yos and spikes emerged. He displayed them as he declared loudly to all assembled "You do not want to be the next to draw my ire."
The sharpened yo-yos shot out to the ends of their strings, slicing aside the glass which protected the bank employees as easily as the metaphorical hot knife through... well not butter. Perhaps like a hot knife through bread.
The interloper jumped, tucked and rolled his way through the shattering glass, landing on the staff side and tilting his head to indicate where the clerks shold relocate. He made his way quickly back to the vault, attatching yet another yo-yo to the vault and stepping back as it exploded, smiling at the valuables within. Um.. the man was smiling at the valuables. The shards of exploded yo-yo were not smiling.
"Yo-yos?" asked a voice behind him. "Really? What kind of a holliday is this supposed to be?"
"June 6 is national yo-yo day," Yo-yo Man answered, turning slowly.
"Scraping the bottom of the barrel a bit, aren't we?" asked the white-clad ninja. He was tall. His stance seemed a bit stereotyped--left hand on his hip as the right held aloft his katana.
"It's legitimate," he answered a bit defensively. "Try reading Chase's Calendar of Events sometime." A yo-yo snaked out, wrapping itself repeatedly around the sword before its' spiked end pierced the target's right hand.
"Ow! Dangit, ow!" The white glove covering the ninja's right hand began to stain red. With his left, he tossed a shuriken. Like the bullets, it failed to penetrate the yo-burglar's outfit. Unlike the bullets, its' impact was accompanied by a burst of electricity.
There would be no permanent harm, but for the moment the crumpling yo-burglar was as unconscious as the security guard.
"Okay, gotta tie him up. I should start bringing a rope with me. Um..." he glanced toward the uncertain faces of all assembled. "Can I borrow someone's belt?" Then he caught the first hint of sirens in the distance. "Oh, never mind. He'll still be unconscious when the police get here. Uh..." he struck another heroic pose. "All in a day's work for... uh... one small step for... hang on...." and with that, the white-clad ninja vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
This entry was originally posted at http://www.dreamwidth.org/12345.html.
Beacon Street is a relatively local phenomenon. It is small, tends to a relatively limited base. And unlike busier locations it has not been deemed cost-effective to employ more than the one security officer. That had not been an issue in quite some time.
Today was different. Different as the breaks' screech heralded the arrival of the car. Different as the colorful figure burst through the doors. Different as the guard rose only to find himself struck in the forehead by... a yo-yo.
As the guard toppled, the strange man stood, replacing the yo-yo in his right hand as he continued attending to the yo-yo in his left. His goofy smile would have stood out like a sore... um... would have stood out had it not been surrounded by such a painfully gaudy outfit. From helmet to tights, he was completely covered in pictures of golden yo-yos on a blue background.
"I am the Yo-yo Man!" he announced, because these are the sorts of things that one announces in situations like this. His announcement was drowned out, however, by the sound of bullets.
One customer had withdrawn a concealed pistol and was firing, those bullets which found their mark completely failing to penetrate the outfit or to have any measureable impact. This customer soon joined the guard in unconsciousness.
Yo-yo Man squeezed his yo-yos and spikes emerged. He displayed them as he declared loudly to all assembled "You do not want to be the next to draw my ire."
The sharpened yo-yos shot out to the ends of their strings, slicing aside the glass which protected the bank employees as easily as the metaphorical hot knife through... well not butter. Perhaps like a hot knife through bread.
The interloper jumped, tucked and rolled his way through the shattering glass, landing on the staff side and tilting his head to indicate where the clerks shold relocate. He made his way quickly back to the vault, attatching yet another yo-yo to the vault and stepping back as it exploded, smiling at the valuables within. Um.. the man was smiling at the valuables. The shards of exploded yo-yo were not smiling.
"Yo-yos?" asked a voice behind him. "Really? What kind of a holliday is this supposed to be?"
"June 6 is national yo-yo day," Yo-yo Man answered, turning slowly.
"Scraping the bottom of the barrel a bit, aren't we?" asked the white-clad ninja. He was tall. His stance seemed a bit stereotyped--left hand on his hip as the right held aloft his katana.
"It's legitimate," he answered a bit defensively. "Try reading Chase's Calendar of Events sometime." A yo-yo snaked out, wrapping itself repeatedly around the sword before its' spiked end pierced the target's right hand.
"Ow! Dangit, ow!" The white glove covering the ninja's right hand began to stain red. With his left, he tossed a shuriken. Like the bullets, it failed to penetrate the yo-burglar's outfit. Unlike the bullets, its' impact was accompanied by a burst of electricity.
There would be no permanent harm, but for the moment the crumpling yo-burglar was as unconscious as the security guard.
"Okay, gotta tie him up. I should start bringing a rope with me. Um..." he glanced toward the uncertain faces of all assembled. "Can I borrow someone's belt?" Then he caught the first hint of sirens in the distance. "Oh, never mind. He'll still be unconscious when the police get here. Uh..." he struck another heroic pose. "All in a day's work for... uh... one small step for... hang on...." and with that, the white-clad ninja vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
This entry was originally posted at http://www.dreamwidth.org/12345.html.