You know the feeling: you’re sitting around in the sub-sub-basement of a scrap metal dealer’s unmarked office. Russian Roulette went smoothly enough, as did Russian Hungry Hungry Hippos. You’ve survived all of the deadly games of chance they’ve thrown at you, and you’re feeling pretty good about that. All in all, it’s shaping up to be a pretty good day, probably, if it is still daytime, but maybe not, if it isn’t. We’ve all been there.Then, you make one little flippant remark about a guy’s facial tattoo and all of a sudden BAM! Wolves … I mean, shuriken …stabbing you in the eyes with their sharp pointy edges. What began as a simple, harmless remark to taunt some trained members of the Chinese mafia quickly becomes a fight to the death in a circle of fire. But at least it’s a fair fight, as you’re readily provided with a Japanese katana sword or possibly a falstaff. Then some guy goes and spoils it all by taking out a bag of shuriken.
No! Bad ninja! We live in a world with unspoken social contracts, and there are simply things that you don’t do. Don’t hit on your in-laws; don’t give coke to a donkey unless it’s Cinco de Mayo; never dance in the elevator. And don’t, under *ANY* circumstances, fling tiny metal shards of throwing stars at your opponent in a round of consecutive one-on-one fights to the death. I mean, not cool man. Sure maybe in a dark alley or during an assassination attempt. That’s one thing. But in multiple, single set, combat with several assailants? For shame.
I think we’re all agreed that you and your bloodlusting shuriken death stars have no place in this quintet ensemble. No one likes death by shuriken.
And don’t even think about giving me those puppy dog eyes, Brian.