The cook is a ninja too!

A dense cloud of steam blanketed the kitchen area, and in it a handful of cooks worked tirelessly on a score of multiple jobs, whether it be cleaning, or prep work, or the actual cooking of food, the clatter of the job bustle back there in the kitchen was loud. But Sheila's adrenaline was high and her senses were keen – her life depended on it. Through the steam she saw one of the cooks set aside a pan of sizzling mushrooms and onions, and pull from his chef pants an ultra-modern Fukiya, a blow gun made from space age materials and was nearly weightless in the big man's hands. He put the tube to his lips and sent a deadly projectile hurtling Sheila's way before she had even taken an evasive sidestep behind the steel counter next to her. She dove just as three darts embedded themselves into the stainless steel barrier inches from her cranium with a loud SPANG!

She grabbed a thirteen-inch pan to use as a shield and from a knife block an eight-inch carving knife she hoped might make an effective weapon against the world class killer. She put her feet against the wall and pushed with enough force to propel her underneath the work table behind which she hid and out into the middle of the kitchen floor. The cook caught this maneuver and blew two darts at her in rapid succession, which she blocked with the pan and continued her momentum with a roll under the table at which he stood. She barely paused to catch her breath before realizing that he, too, wore the Tabi boots preferred by ninjas everywhere. These were wonderful pieces of footwear when stealth was a factor, but not so great at warding off knife attacks. She plunged the carving knife deep into his foot and in essence nailed him to the floor. She didn't wait for his cry of pain before following with another attack. She wanted to cripple him before he could regroup and blow a half-dozen poisonous darts into her smug ass. And what the hell, a hard kick to the knee worked on the cook's partner moments ago, so why not again? Sheila kicked out with her right foot and caught the cook's knee dead center, where it hyperextended with a muffled CRUNCH! She wasn't sure if the man was standing at the griddle or not, but she decided to take the chance. She reached up and grabbed the bandana the man wore tied around his neck and yanked down. Hard. His face slammed against the surface just above her and she was rewarded with the sound of sizzling and the pungent sound of burning flesh

The man screamed and pulled away, but forgot that his foot was impaled to the floor, and it pulled away with a wet splash, whereupon he lost his balance and pinwheeled his arms as he staggered backwards. Sheila wasted no time – she had already made it to her feet – and now she drove her knee into the cook's groin while pushing her hand upwards into his chin, hard, which drove his head back with a forceful snap. Off balance and stunned the man had no chance to fight, and Sheila plunged his head into a massive cast iron kettle behind him, filled with a boiling bouillabaisse. She pulled her hand free before burning the skin, but for the ninja chef it was too late, the damage had already been done. As his thrashing body fell to the floor it brought with it the cast iron kettle – plus its boiling contents – on to his head. For him the third degree burns were nothing compared to the broken neck he suffered from the hundred pound kettle.

The End

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