The Tale of McCluskey The Elderly Ninja And The Brickhouse Alert

Mr. McCluskey is a senior ninja. He was one of the best ninja in his heyday, had gone numerous dangerous missions almost all of which were executed to perfection. He had never failed a single mission nor ever lost his comrades during any of which. He was feared by friends and foes alike for his cunning techniques and unparalleled wits. But the once powerful and fearsome ninja McCluskey has now become the old ninja McCluskey. Even he couldn't escape the effect of time. And the closest thing to ninja world McCluskey can do now was to dress like one. To his regret, he no longer can fight or throw a shuriken to a lame duck without aching his joints.

His sons (all are powerful ninjas) fear about Mr. McCluskey's safety, being old and all. They fear that enemies could easily hurt Mr. McCluskey. But most of the time, what they want is to save him from himself. "How if he incidentally fall in the bathroom or hurt his old bones while he insistently, being stubborn and all, practiced the ninjutsu?" Because of his stubborn nature, McCluskey always refuses to live in a nursing home, nor he likes to be accompanied in his little house on the prairie. The only friend he has in his house is years-old dog named Rashomon.

McCluskey's sons' fear isn't without solid ground. Even now, bounties on McCluskey's head are still in effects in the enemy's countries, dead or alive. So, after having discussion on this matter, the sons decide to use the service of Medical Alert, a monitoring device for elderly ninja like Mr.McCluskey. This device will allow them to know before hand when danger is near, or simply when Mr. McCluskey accidentally stumble during his mock fight against Rashomon (one of his favorite past times) because the device has the fall detection that detects whenever the user is falling and instantly send signal to those in the receiving end.

With a heavy heart, because he hates the idea that someone, albeit one of his sons, is monitoring him, Mr. McCluskey agrees to use such device, knowing that it is the only thing that will stop his sons from bugging him over his safety.

In one moonless night, his sons' well-anticipated fear came to reality. A band of ninjas had been sent by McCluskey's sworn enemy to finish him off. Only a selected few know what really happened that night. A discreet report said that not long after McCluskey had finished his evening tea, three ninjas crept their way to his old house, nearly killed Rashomon if only the latter was not well-trained in ninja's art by the master himself. Rashomon, despite his old age, howled in his rage, alerting McCluskey who already in the bedroom, before assaulting one of the three ninjas with great agility.

In a quick fight that ensued, McCluskey and Rashomon were able to neutralize the initial attack. The three recon ninjas were rendered unconscious by McCluskey's powerful jutsu. But outside, there were still two...three...six...ninjas, Mr.McCluskey counted, and he was worried whether he could survive them all. His bones were aching and Rashomon had been hurt. "I might not survive the night," he said to no one. "Alas, this is a good way to die..."

And then he jumped off the window to attack his attackers instead of waiting for them. "Katsu!" he yelled. In his eagerness, more to his old age, he had trampled on his own foot, fallen to the ground just as 6 shurikens launched at him. The shurikens only hit the tatamis while, cursing, Mr McCluskey tried to roll his way up. The moment he fell down, the signal went off, alerting his eldest who in response summon himself to the scene. His brothers were close behind him. It is too vulgar to mention the slaughters that ensued here. Long story short, all the attackers were defeated. Only the initial three could manage to escape. To his sons' relieve, the decision to use Medical Alert had been a good decision after all. Only McCluskey felt indifferent. Grumbling, he babbled about how that otherwise useful device has denied him "a great way to die."

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Of Glasses And (Hench) Men

Using eyeglasses can be really disturbing, especially if, like me, you work as a henchman for a local Mafia. In close combat, using eyeglasses could be fatal. The glass part could shattered whenever you're hit, injured--God knows to what extent--your eyes . In the other hand, it's not beneficial too in long distance firing frenzies. I couldn't shoot a sitting duck 50m away from me. I guess the latter is the reason why my boss never enroll me in his sharp-shooter squad.

All because I'm being nearsighted.
Nevertheless, I'm still the Death's incarnate to anyone stupid enough to be anywhere within 20 meters radius when I'm in the you-know-what-I'm-talking-about mode.

In my duty (as a henchman, that is), I often need to disguise my appearance. I have three favorite appearances in such recon jobs. The first is the classic-conspiratorial men-in-black look. Equipped with a fake earpiece, some untrained eyes would easily picked me as a federal agent in such an important mission. Hah! This style distracts people as much as it intimidates them. People tend to avoid a federal-looking guy. Very helpful if you don't want to be disturbed. One exception is that, instead of sunglasses, I wear eyeglasses. I hate sunglasses (they are waaay... too overrated), part of which is because I hate contact lenses one should use if he's nearsighted and wants to avoid really embarrassing scenes when he wears sunglasses.
Another look is more corporate-like. You know that Bennet guy from Heroes series? That's what I meant. That way, I can easily mingle with the crowd in any commercial strip in whatever city my boss sent me. The last look is the most casual one. Usually just cargo pants, t-shirt and a windbreaker, old sneakers and a trucker hat to conceal my crew cut hairdo.

As you can guess, each of the three appearances demands different eyeglasses to be paired with. It is not because I'm fashionable. I'm simply practical, and my famous Buddy Holly-styled tortoise shell eyeglasses isn't helping at all. Any old enemy could spot me from half a mile away even if I'm dressing like a drag queen simply by looking at my glasses.
I was looking for the eyeglasses I needed, online, when I stumbled at a somewhat cheeky My favorite high fashion eyeglasses, apparently promotion lines a moron suggesting an online optic.
I clicked it anyway thinking, "If what you mean by high fashion is what I called practical, than I have nothing to lose here." The URL brought me to the inevitably online optics shop. It offers arrays of eyeglasses, each of which I soon clicked at. Three of them caught my attention for they would fit perfectly to the aforementioned disguises.
I started to like the site and its $ 8 Rx eyeglasses (eyeglasses featured here cost only $8 each). Although you might think otherwise, a henchman's salary is not much, you know (no pensions, too). From my job's perspective, cheap eyeglasses as such have benefits: I could buy as much as my recon jobs need them be. And, in some cases where I have to do close-combat, I could toss whichever one I wear without fear of ruining it or worrying over the cost of replacing it (they're cheap anyway), something which I always feel with my $200 tortoise shell eyeglasses. They're not looking so bad, too. They are, like I said, practical. Not only that. Apparently, someone by the name Greg Karp (as in Karpe Diem, baby!) apparently has mentioned zennioptical.com (that's the site I'm talking about here) in How You Can Start Spending Smart in CBN. Well, if the author of a book called Living Rich By Spending Smart should tell you what to do, it is only wise if you do as you are told, right? Of course if you want to get rich in the first place.
Whatever.
At this point you may ask, "What kind of henchman using eyeglasses?" I tell you what, buddies. That's the same question up in my boss' enemies' mind. And all of them fall for it. They aren't around now, are they? They underestimated me, thinking I'm not dangerous enough, and let off their guards accordingly.
You see, I love paradox. People may not scare of me as they would a mean looking street gangster. But looking like a crew-cutted Buddy Holly doesn't mean that I couldn't kill you in a wink of an eye. Savvy? And if all it takes to make people off their guard is to wear glasses, why shouldn't I? All of my victims that fall for it would come back from their grave just to tell you that. The moral of the story is: Don't mess with me.

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