A Criminal Elf, a Street Artist, and a Ninja Walk into a Bar

[Dr. McNinja]

The ninjas all turned around, noticing a familiar voice yelling. Dr. McNinja frowned. Was that Jak, being an idiot and exposing himself to all of the other ninjas? Sometimes, it was frustrating working together with someone untrained in the arts of ninjutsu.

There was a pause, and the enemy ninjas started muttering Japanese to each other.

"Ooh, I got this," Doc thought to himself, "I learned Japanese in college!"

He listened in.

"Did that man just say 'McNinja'?"

"Isn't that the idiot that was on Dante's Abyss?"

"Yeah, he got punched in the face by a zombie! What self-respecting ninja can show his mask again after he's been punched by a dead man?"

Some of the ninjas chuckled.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Doc growled.

Dr. McNinja sheathed his sword, then closed his eyes and inhaled. He tore off the sleeves of his coat and shirt, took of his tie, and tied it around his mask. He cracked his knuckles, flexed his now-bare arms. The epitome of sexiness and badassery. He channeled his ki into a physical force field that only affected the Law of Conservation of Ninjutsu. He became an isolated battlefield, and all of the ninjutsu available per battle were flowing through his metaphorical ninja veins.

And now, he was just one man.

He again drew his katana, centered it around his face. With a grunt, and opening his eyes wide open, he lunged off the branch and landed katana-first into several ninjas. The others stared, shocked.

"HA!" Doc cried out, "It's like a skewer of ninjas!"

He paused. "That's actually quite tasteless, isn't it? Sorry about that."

Some of the other ninjas yelled their battle cry, and began charging Doc as well. He sighed, and thought, "Jak, where the hell are you now that I saved your ass?"

In a flurry of clashing metal, Doc was no longer visible as dozens of the assassins jumped him. Waves of the warriors were collapsing on the ground as McNinja moved his sword impossibly fast. He was swinging the katana as deftly as one would swing nunchucks, the gleaming blade twirling and chopping, as if the physician was doing an impromptu ribbon dance with red liquid ribbons.

The first wave was simple enough, but Doc still found himself with mysterious cuts - deep cuts - all over his arms. He was covered in blood, but he soon realized that some of it was his own. His shirt was even more torn than it was when the battle had started. He had forgotten that, despite the Law of Conservation of Ninjutsu, this was still an army he was fighting. He would need help.

He saw the second wave manifest as a silent ring move stealthily through the forest. However, they did not approach the doctor himself, but someone el- Jak.

Oh, and probably that annoying raccoon thing. Why the hell did Doc invite them over again?

McNinja sighed, gripped his katana, and lunged into the bushes to hopefully weed out some of the other assassins. Hopefully, Jak knew what was coming to him.