The Halfling.

Now, it wasn't by my doing that I was forced into the fate of fates, forced to kill people and fit them with the hats of death. A perfect example of this would be the Halfling. Now, she was called the Halfling because she was half-Chinese and half-Japanese, and half-American (Oh what a species!). Now, most of us knew that the rules of grammar and the laws of the gods forbid anything from having three halves, as that's one more half than anyone else ever had, or ever would. Naturally, the gods were none too pleased with the Halfling. However, the Halfling was ridiculously rich. Rich enough to afford the extra two cases of SugarPow! that the gods demanded in order to have her life spared. She would weekly spend four tuppences, as if it wasn't anything, in order to buy her crazy SugarPow!. It was her own business.

But I needed four tuppences. I needed the four cases of SugarPow!. If I got them, the gods would let me Slice Bryce. So my goal was clear. I needed a sword, with which to kill the Halfling, because the Halfling chose swords as her medium of choice by which she would complete her duty of killing peepz. Anyway, in Japan, they're commonly known for creating katanas, which are like swords, but more slicey. I could have gotten a broadsword, but that's just silly. Who uses a broadsword these days? A concerned parent.

The Halfling had reservations at the Poison Tea Chinese Buffet, in Japan. I don't quite understand why she chose to go to a common buffet instead of a fancy tea house, or why she bothered to get reservations for said buffet, seeing as it's a family restaurant and you don't really require exca... Reservations to eat there on time. Also, I was confused as to why there was a Chinese buffet in Japan, and why they boasted their own ineptness at preparing tea. But these things aside, I went to Master Jikkyu in the Sake Bar 01 near Hokkaido. I walked in and spoke to him in his native tongue of Japanese, or as the Japanese call it... Nihongo.

"Yo." I said.

"Sup?" he replied.

"Nuffin." I answered.

"Aiight." He exploded.

"Sake?" I asked.

"Aye." He assured me.

"'Kay." I acknowledged.

"So..." He began.

"Wait." I interjected.

"Eh?" He inquired.

"I..." I searched.

"No." He said.

"But-" I started.

"Why?" He inquired.

"Bryce." I answered.

"Ah..." He contemplated.

"...So?" I asked.

"Fine." He said. He would make me a sword now. My heart soared with anticipation, but then stopped soaring, as I realized that helicopters soar. We went upstairs, into the top-secret sake-katana ultimate room, wherein he kept all of his forged swords, which were his top-secret passion or so I think. Where was I? Katana room. Ah yes, well, he had many different colored swords, or coloured, if you're British. But I didn't really want any of those, yellow swords. Instead, I would have him make me one from scratch. A supreme inefficiency to compliment my supreme revenge. Now, Master Jikkyu charged as much for his swords, usually, as most people would pay for two cases of SugarPow! but I was a special case.

See, Master Jikkyu understood perfectly the desire for human beings to be able to maintain honor in the face of almost certain disgrace. That, and I guess that he just disliked Bryce as much as I did. Well, maybe not as much, but he still, I guess, hated him. Or at least understood where I was coming from. Maybe he was just afraid of me. But I doubt that last one, seeing as he's the sword master, and he MAKES the freakin' swords. I guess that doesn't necessarily mean that he knows how to use them, per say, but he makes them. And he'll charge me nothing.

Master Jikkyu was immune to mind tricks, Jedi or other wise, so that last thing probably didn't affect him in any way. Instead, he assured me that this was his finest sword, and that, if I happened to meet God on my journey, this sword would cut even him. But then I saw God, dancing with a plastic bag, and I was all

"Ah! Now, the time for your justice has finally come, Prince of Peace!" He just kind of looked at me. "Prepare to meet the tender kiss of cold steel, Lion of Judah!" with that, He laughed, and turned my sword into a North Tanzanian ButterFrog. I grew impatient and threw the ButterFrog at a passing hip-hopper, who consequently turned at me, dropped his novelty-sized boom box, and pulled out his gun. Luckily, he was promptly run over by a passing cart. Then I turned back, to settle my beef with The Wonderful Counselor but, alas, He was gone. Anyway, master Jikkyu assured me that it was his finest sword. With this sword, I planned to dispense justice on the Halfling that plagues our streets! But to do that, I would have to reach the Poison Tea Chinese Buffet. However... Before I could reach the Poison Tea Chinese Buffet, I would have to wiggle my big toe. Lost? Well, it had a lot to do with a man named Bunch. He was here for lunch.