Katas

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Ethan calls.

Again.

Groggily, I reach for the phone.

"lobo?"

"Ethan," I says. "It's LOBO."

"That's what I said," he replies.

"Ethan, you know I'm in training. It's only 10:30 in the morning"

"So you're resting up for the submarine ninjas?"

"It's called a kata, sir," I says, setting the Cheeto bag on the coffee table. "It's a strict discipline, steeped in tradition."

"I thought today was laundry day."

"The washer is still busted," I explain. "I find it easier to just buy new clothes when the old ones get stiff."

"That's disgusting," says Ethan.

"It's a strict discipline," I explain.

"Well I'm giving you a few days off," says Ethan. "I don't want you stinking up the office, while submarine ninjas are wrecking up the place trying to pull your tongue through your keyster."

Damn, I think. I'm good.

"You don't think they will come here, do you?" he asks. "My 'lawyers' have really been packing on the pounds since they started studying your 'Peking Duck' technique. I really don't think they're up for this."

"You can take my cat Phil," I suggest. "He's a level 8."