I really have nothing to say right now. :|
Preparations
Zenigata was standing over his desk, he and Jigen staring at the worn tattered map of old that was laid out before them.
They both looked back at the door as a weedy looking man in a dirty old cowboy hat entered the room.
"Sher'f, we got prolums."
"English?" Jigen remarked as he stared at the man in disgust.
"Zactly," the man said in joy as he slapped his knee, the dust from his clothes finding their way to the floor.
Zenigata glared at him and handed him a broom. Nobody came into his office and spread their mangy dust around.
The man cowered and swept up the dust, talking as he did. "That thar wird mans made uh camp er sumdin to duh nirth of tern. He's sayin' it's Nerth Englush."
"North English," Zenigata said in shock.
"So, he's already taken over part of the town," Jigen thought out loud.
"Anything else?" Zenigata asked the man, who was busy shoving all of the dust into his pockets. "You missed some," he said sternly, pointing a rigid finger at a spot on the floor.
The man flinched and rushed over, licking it up, as his pockets were full.
Jigen watched in confusion. Why would anyone want to fight over English?
"Nope, I done think so," the man said.
"Then get out!" Zenigata pointed to the door.
The man shrieked and ran out as fast as he could.
"Well, we better get to work," Zenigata said, rolling up the map and he and Jigen leaving the office.
...
"This place isn't so bad," one of the samurai men said as all of the samurai were rounded up for dinner.
They were forced to eat out on the dirt and were kept under very strict conditions.
Goemon glanced at the man. He was not happy. 'I was supposed to be the leader,' he thought with a sad sigh.
"Stop sighing and eat your grain of rice!" Chappie yelled while cracking a whip.
'A whole grain of rice,' Peon thought as he watched with glistening eyes. 'If only I could be that lucky...' He sighed sadly.
"Stop that," Chappie yelled. "Don't you have dirt to eat? We're not gonna get rid of it with you standing around here!"
"Yes, sir," Peon said lowly, sulking off to resume his dirt meal.
Goemon stood, having chewed his grain as long as he could. "I must train," he said in awful broken English.
"What did you say about me Mum?" Chappie seethed, ready to strike Goemon when another samurai, the English speaking one, spoke up.
"He said he must train."
"Oh." Chappie gave Goemon a suspicious glance. "Very well," he said, shooing him away.
Goemon wandered off, trying to figure out how he got into this mess. Stopping, he stared at the sky in thought as the memories of a week ago came back...
...
"Goemon," a woman sang out. "I made your favorite meal." She gave a cute girl laugh as she held the plate out.
Goemon stared down at it, his eyes twitching as they gazed at the evil orange glow of the strange crunchy things that had been piled on a plate.
"I think they are called... Chee... tos?" the girl said curiously.
Goemon backed away, finally screaming and fleeing.
"Need to get away," he panicked.
He ran for days straight, fear keeping him going, until he saw a crowd of men dressed similar to him.
He hid in the crowd, figuring the evil orange snacks wouldn't find him so easily that way, as he was sure they were following his every step.
"Ah, looks like we have a newcomer," a man in fancy clothes said as he twirled his mustache in glee. "Master Chappie will be so pleased."
...
Goemon let out a shudder. He would now have to meditate for days straight to get that out of his mind.
He found a spot in the dirt and sat down, closing his eyes and becoming one with the dust that blew around him.
It wasn't long after until a giant blob of tumbleweeds formed where he sat, nobody able to find him and allowing him his days meditation.
"Goemon," one of the samurai shouted as they frantically searched for their leader, unable to know how to fight without him.
One of the men shrieked as the tumbleweeds moved.
"Ancient dead plant demon!" The samurai drew his sword as he stared at the trembling mass.
"It's full of fury! Let's run far now!"
The pile of tumbleweeds growled and exploded, Goemon standing there where the pile once quaked.
"Oh, it is our leader person," a samurai said happily.
Goemon yawned, never noticing the giant tumbleweed that had stuck to his hair, the light prickly mass sticking off the side off his head like some weird growth.
The samurai held in their laughter, none wanting to spoil the fun and keeping quiet.
"It is time for fighting!" The samurai struck a heroic pose.
Goemon nodded, the tumbleweed bobbing with his head. "What," he asked in annoyance as the group snickered at the sight.
"It is nothing, Goemon. We must be going now."
Another nod from Goemon and more snickers from the group.
Goemon chose to ignore them. He was well meditated and didn't want to be forced to slaughter his men.
...
"Everything ready on your end?" Zenigata asked as Jigen walked over to him.
"Ready as it's gonna be," Jigen shrugged, bored with the plan Zenigata had come up with. "It really does need more explosives, though."
"Explosives?" Zenigata stared straight ahead. "You mean, we've been slaving away for days on this crap and you just now mention explosives?" he yelled as he suddenly wanted to kill his deputy.
Jigen shrugged. "Thought it was kind of obvious we needed them..."
"Now we gotta start all over!" Zenigata threw down his hat in disgust.
"Sher'f!" the weedy man from before shouted. "Thur comin' in fast 'n strong!"
"Are they now," Zenigata muttered as he glared off into the distance.
"Guess we gotta get those explosives ready," Jigen said.
"No, we have no time for that. We'll have to take them on with what we've got."
The three stood and stared at the dust cloud forming in the distance.