Post by BSJ on Jun 7, 2018 17:57:48 GMT
Here it is forumheads. The story you've been waiting for! 
I was awakened by an ear-splitting din and being bounced around as if in a clothes dryer. And an annoying relentless nudging by something on one of my legs. This is what I saw staring at me inches from my face when I opened my eyes.
I shut them not believing what was staring at me. Quick as a blink I opened them again. I’ve been abducted! Thrown into a net like a bunch of bananas and hauled up into a helicopter! Feeling like bruised bananas from being slammed a few times against the bottom of the copter because some ding-dong controlling the lever kept missing the door! The nudging started on another leg. I sat up and as loud as I could over the copter racket I screamed at the rude llama, “Stop it! Get your foul hoof away from me! I’m awake!”
“She’s awake!” the Salvador Dali lookalike, but with the brains of a fence post, yelled to the two standing right next to him. They were only wearing sunglasses looking like tacky male tourists, but without the fanney packs or the knee-high socks with sandals, slurping on Big Gulps.
“Where’s No Cause at?!” I shouted.
A llama wearing a cap with the word “Swag” on it, lifted it up, scratched the top of his head, and yelled, “Must be the one we left behind?”
“Were we supposed to bring him too?” Fence post asked.
“No. Bandana Llama wanted just her.” a llama wearing a cap of flowers, looking like Queen of the May, told them.
There was some discussion about this Bandana llama. The phrase “cut-throat psychopath” was whispered with reverent tones.
I had no idea where they were taking me, only a good suspicion of who was behind it all. Yes, that palooka Lorenzo Renegade! And I had no intention of meeting up with him and his playmate Bandana.
I was very relieved to find I was still carrying my backpack. It was No Cause’s idea to have one crammed with goodies for an emergency. The bright boy. We had discussed different scenarios and what do, but nothing even close to this. I started to think of my possibilities.
Looking out a window I saw that we were zipping low over what could only be the Atlantic. I then studied the five llamas, including the green felt fedora wearing pilot. Four of them didn’t seem too concern that I was going to go anywhere because they stopped paying attention to me and throwing back shots of cheap South American booze down their long scrawny throats. All the while performing macho tribal BS. High fiving by bumping necks, hugging and hardy beating of paws on their greasy rat nest backs.
“My main man!” “Bro! You da bomb!” “Thanks, Dawg!” Showing they all have the emotional range of a teaspoon.
They were not being vigilant at all and were underestimating someone who took the Ninja Groupie Twins, “Ninja Gorilla Combat Master Class”. The most useful and favorite, class was “How To Ignore Their Discomfort”. I did very well and graduated a Pulsar. 
I also had the power of Violinski, ELO, Woodeye, all of the great, important Llamas from the Industrial Revolution, dearest friends and kick-ass mavericks, with me!
A line of windows were on my side of the copter, so I stood up and slowly went window to window, looking through each as if what was out there was my only concern. When I thought I was far enough away and what I was about to do be wouldn’t be noticeable, I opened the backpack and pulled out what I needed to save myself! I kept a half eye on them while I prepared and thought through on what I must do! With great gusto, I walked toward the drunken llamas. Queenie saw me first and nudged fence post who pointed at me causing all llamas to turn and look. The only movement were shot glass’s slipping from their grasps to the floor, and their eyes and mouths opening wide with terror at what was approaching them!
Yes! It was I! Ninja Nieve! Slicing my ninja sword through the air and for good measure throwing ninja stars down at their hoofs. This had them dancing salsas and cha-chas helping to give me an opening to the pilot, who had no idea what was happening behind him. Keeping my sword pointed at the llamas, I dangled a garrote in front of his face as my calling card. He turned, and unlike those frighten little disco darling’s, he spit at me! I knocked his fedora off his head, dropped the garrote around his neck, give it a vigorous jerk and yelled for him to put the copter on auto-pilot. I lead him out to the others like a misbehaved mutt on a leash.
Lining them all in front of a door, I said, “Boyo’s, two options, and only two! You are all going to jump out of that door behind you. Or, I’ll make it easier for the shark’s dinner and chop you into filets and drop you out a piece at a time. Swag pleaded that he couldn’t swim. The “ignore their discomfort” training kicked in. I pointed the sword at the door and told the poor boy to open it and have the honor of being the first to jump out. I didn’t know llamas had the lung capacity for screaming that loud! Then I told the rest that on the count of four, they were all to follow their comrade! “FOUR!” I yelled! There was a hesitation. Fence post raised a hoof and asked in a trembling voice, “What about 1, 2 and 3? I told him that this is not the time to show off to your friends that you know how to count that high. For the last time, I screamed, all of you get out! And started to poke them. Out they dropped. Free falling toward the ocean. There go five losers, all those losers gone!
After throwing life jackets out after them, (I’m not THAT heartless!) I went into the cockpit, jammed detection and remote-control apps and followed the sun to the United States of ‘Merica!
I than gave No Cause For A Llama a jingle, who asked, “What took you long?” And he also told me, “Nah. I wasn’t worried in the least!”. 
That Nieve sure took her lessons well and learned from the master. Oh, and she also learnt to count from a certain Brummie musician, it appears! But piloting a helicopter, who knew she had that among her skills?
, but we're OK. 
Apparently it's quite hard to see them with the naked eye, you need to be looking through a camera or other type of lens?