A/N: Hey everyone! As some of you guessed in the reviews, I had some really bad writer's block with this. Thanks for waiting and for all the reviews. They're really what encouraged me to get off my lazy butt and write this. On the bright side, the new episodes gave me some ideas, so the wait wasn't a total loss.

Five minutes later, the totally bruce ninja of focus and concentration had reached the first boss level in Grave Punchers 5, his math book abandoned on the floor behind his foot.

A NINJA MUST ALWAYS BE AHEAD OF HIS ENEMY, BUT A SHADOW OF HIMSELF.

"What the juice, Nomicon," Randy said, crossing his arms, "I mean, you throw weird mumbo jumbo at me all the time, but at least there's some variety." He reread the proverb that had been floating before him for... Randy wasn't totally sure how time worked in the Nomicon versus outside, but it'd been a while. Finally, he grinned. "Ohhhh, I get it now!"

Congratulatory doodles such as dancing ninjas and the words "yes!" and "sweet!" formed around the proverb. "Yeah, yeah, I totally see how it is! I'm such a honking bruce ninja, that this is the only lesson you have left for me! I've already learned everything else!"

There was a pause, as the Nomicon contemplated whether its pupil could truly be that stupid. Then, the celebratory décor was scribbled away with red pen. Randy fell through the floor and out of the Nomicon in a matter of seconds.

"So, is that a yes?" The Nomicon's only reply was to slam shut and growl, its red glow illuminating Randy's face. In fact, the Nomicon was the only thing lighting the room.

10:00pm.

Seriously? Howard was long gone, a note taped to the game controller.

Didn't wake you because I like my shoulder not-dislocated. See you at school.

P.S. DON'T STUDY ALONE AGAIN YOU'LL RUIN OUT FRESHMAN CLASSFACTOR!

Randy sighed at the all-caps afternote. "DON'T" was underlined five times.

Great.

"The Ninja? Not a clue."

Delete.

"He's clearly a music enthusiast. Did I ever tell you how he saved Princess Tootie after Bucky here nearly annihilated her?"

"I already said I was sorry!"

Delete.

"Well, his speed is clearly over 40, and his strength is somewhere around lancer class. Not so sure about his HP though... Do you have a calculator?"

Delete.

Whump.

Heidi's head fell to the keyboard of her crimson all-in-one PC. Heidi's room was the organized chaos you'd expect from a creative type such as herself. Her walls were plastered with a mix of boy band posters and old articles she'd written back in middle school before her switch to video reporting. Electronics peppered every bookshelf and countertop, all decorated with something feminine but never pink. Her bed hid under a pile of plush toys that she would never let near a camera, but despite her shame she couldn't bring herself to get rid of a single one of them.

As if the teen reporter needed any more idiocy, her brother chose that moment to barge in.

"Hey! Sis!" Howard shouted. "Mom sent me. You gonna eat or what?" Heidi replied with a growl, and Howard flinched back towards the doorway. "Eesh, tou-chy!"

"You do realize this is your fault, right?

"What, Mom's casserole?"

"No, this!" Heidi finessed the keyboard, without removing her glare from Howard, and a video of Julian popped up.

"Maybe," Julian speculated, "he's a ghost, slowly feeding off our souls in exchange for protecting us! Wouldn't that be cool?!"

She dragged the clip to the trash with the others and let the trash empty while she ranted. "Ever since your little cameo disaster on my show, I keep getting emails about the Ninja! 'Who's the Ninja?' 'You should figure out who the Ninja is!' 'Did you figure out who the Ninja is yet?' It's all anybody wants the deets on, and getting the deets is my job!"

"Pfffffft, yeah right, like anybody at school is gonna know who the NinjaAHH!" Howard flailed out of the room, dodging Heidi's barrage of beanbag animals.

If Howard included Mom's Italian cooking, that was three people trying to kill him today.