The Interview
"Excuse me, miss? Miss? HEY! ONNA!" yelled a tall Chinese boy. His black hair was pulled back into a small ponytail and he was wearing a navy blue tank-top and white silk floofy-pants.
"Can I help you, sir?" the woman in the technicolor outfit asked and turned to face him. He squinted as his eyes were assaulted by the fashion crime.
"Woman, I have to ask you a few questions to pass my journalism final."
"Well, for starters, I have a name."
"Yes; woman. Now, woman, tell me why you are so weak."
"WEAK!? What do you mean 'weak!?'" the woman cried and the Chinese boy immediately produced a pen a pad of paper from his hammerspace pocket. He watched as she seethed, taking random observations.
"All women are weak. To say anything otherwise would be unjust. Women are too weak to fight and such because men are superior," he said simply and continued writing. He didn't have time to blink before she caught him with a mean left hook.
~*~*~*~
"Here's my report…" the boy mumbled, holding an ice pack to his face. He handed his instructor a badly mangled pad of paper and winced in pain.
"What happened to you?" the instructor asked, arching an eyebrow as he flipped through the papers.
"Well, my theory was proven incorrect…"
"Excuse me, miss? Miss? HEY! ONNA!" yelled a tall Chinese boy. His black hair was pulled back into a small ponytail and he was wearing a navy blue tank-top and white silk floofy-pants.
"Can I help you, sir?" the woman in the technicolor outfit asked and turned to face him. He squinted as his eyes were assaulted by the fashion crime.
"Woman, I have to ask you a few questions to pass my journalism final."
"Well, for starters, I have a name."
"Yes; woman. Now, woman, tell me why you are so weak."
"WEAK!? What do you mean 'weak!?'" the woman cried and the Chinese boy immediately produced a pen a pad of paper from his hammerspace pocket. He watched as she seethed, taking random observations.
"All women are weak. To say anything otherwise would be unjust. Women are too weak to fight and such because men are superior," he said simply and continued writing. He didn't have time to blink before she caught him with a mean left hook.
~*~*~*~
"Here's my report…" the boy mumbled, holding an ice pack to his face. He handed his instructor a badly mangled pad of paper and winced in pain.
"What happened to you?" the instructor asked, arching an eyebrow as he flipped through the papers.
"Well, my theory was proven incorrect…"