Ninjas of Love

Wake-Up Call

"Oh, h- h- hello there, Yang." Charlie spluttered, like an old Morris Minor ticking it over before it finally lethargically chugs into some semblance of life. "What were you saying about me? Hope me and Emmie didn't keep you awake too much last night!" Yang jibed, clicking her fingers and turning them into finger guns in a single, swift, smooth motion; Emily's face quickly took on a ruddiness not dissimilar to the Pinot Noir-coloured corset she was wearing- gifted to her by Yang as it was still at least five sizes too large for the diminutive Ruby. "Actually, you were kinda loud. There was this loud grunting, it sounded like you two were really exerting yourselves. What exactly were you two up to?"

Kerian pursed his lips together in a last-ditch effort to prevent himself from bursting out in laughter, a valiant attempt that sadly proved pointless when he started cackling away in a manner reminiscent of a hyena full of nitrous oxide. He could barely contain himself, until Emily shot him a look that would pierce through most men, but only served to scare Kerian into shutting up. Yang froze on the spot, her brain whirring like a hyperactive washing machine in a bid to find any plausible reason other than "We were having sex". She mulled it over. Yes, she thought to herself, smirking, this one is perfect.

"Well, you know that Emily's legs aren't great. We were just, you know, doing physio exercises to make her knees better. You know what I mean?" Yang bluffed, hoping her face hadn't blushed as piggy pink as the heat in her cheeks suggested. Charlie nodded silently and sagely, still examining the Scrabble board carefully for an opening to play any word that could bring him closer to Emily's lead. "Ah, fuck it!" He made his proclamation of defeatist gung-ho attitude before dropping three letters below the T of "velvet" with reckless abandon to spell out the word "twit" with the W covering a double letter score. "That will be eleven points, Em."

Emily looked at the one letter she had left- an X- and took it from its tile shelf, twiddling it between her thumb and forefinger as she thought about just where she could place it to end the game, and be sure of a win. Her eyes flashed over to Charlie's word- "twit". She would place the X before the i to create Xi, but she had placed down a pesky "vagina" so she would instead get Gxi- which was not a word. Instead, she noticed an A in the word "alas" and stuck her X below it, to forge the word "ax". She hated Americanisms, even when they were purely spelling reform- but she wouldn't let her own prejudice and possible racism get in the way of a win. She chalked eleven more points onto her total, and stood up using her cane as leverage. "Once again, the cunning linguist defeats you. Pathetic attempt." Emily feigned contempt for her friend, before breaking out into a huge smile and pulling him up from his Gopnik-like squat. "Drink?"

"I'll have a coffee please, Emmie! Black, one sugar." Yang called from across the room, where she was applying eyeliner to herself in wings so sharp they were in danger of drawing blood. Charlie simply shook his head. As Emmie slaved away over the cafetière, kettle and tried to find a mug to annoy Yang, Charlie walked over to her. He didn't know her all that well, and he wanted to be sure she liked him.

"So," he said, finger gunning like there was no tomorrow, "how come you're back so early?" His "suave" voice instead sounded like Jack Whitehall after forty years of smoking nothing but unfiltered Rizla roll-ups. "To grab some lunch, then go set up." She was all business, and had no time to mess about. "Set up? Are you going out on assignment?" Charlie was genuinely interested- but he also wanted to be sure Yang was good enough to be Emily's partner. "No, you dolt! The festival starts tomorrow. You know, the festival you're in." The smile dripped from Charlie's face like ice cream dripping down a cone. "Oh shit."