'Aw man, this is so completely wonk.' Thought the incapacitated 12th grade ninja. His phone in the other room still continuously playing Detention Deficit Disorder, the first song he and Howard had ever written together, as he and likely many others were trying to reach him. Though Randy would not be aware, in his bedroom turned prison, the June day was bright and just breezy enough to make for the picturesque graduation ceremony he was supposed to be participating in any second now, receiving a genuine, though scarcely earned, diploma courtesy of Norrisville High.
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The answering machine kicked on, blaring "Cunningham, what the hell are you up to," something was off, Howard rarely dropped their not so secret slang, though this was a very rare situation. "They're going through the last of the B names now. Don't tell me you're NNSing your own graduation!"
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Oh, Howard, if only you knew, thought Randy as the No-Showing Ninja's 800 years out of fashion accessory tightened its grip around his neck. He let a little chuckle escape, though it came out as a choking gasp. The suit itself clinging to his kneecaps, making escape all but impossible. He had woken up like this, his restraints loosened only to change his sitting position.
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The Nomicon never warned him about a ninja outfit rebellion, or he guessed he could call it a SUITINY! Another sputtering laugh was about to leave Randy Cunningham, the 12th grade ninja's lips, if not for the Ninja Nomicon placing its silken bookmark forcefully over his lips.
A/N: About the strange formatting, I am typing this on a DSi at the moment.