This game requires some limited use of the GeekRoller. 2d6 are rolled for Stamina checks, which happen during each time the game progresses. Stamina starts at 1 and the game ends when it reaches 12. Stamina increases with each successful addition to the geeklist.
1. The narrator writes a short piece of second-person fiction as a geeklist item.
2. The other players will present options as comments to the geeklist item.
3. After all players have responded, the narrator will choose an option by editing their geeklist item with the selection from the available suggestions.
4. The writer of the chosen option will create a new geeklist item for their Stamina roll and narration. If the Stamina roll is a success, go to Step 1.
5. If the Stamina roll fails, the original narrator will choose a second option. The writer of that option will create a new geeklist item and assume control of the narrative, returning to Step 1.
You never thought your parents would agree to send you to advanced ninja camp. It was just an advertisement in the back of a comic book. They NEVER agree to things like that, but here you are. After a long flight, you got settled in and began training. It's been a few weeks of intense training. You've made your way through the ranks, but the rest of the kids training here are good. REALLY good. Some of them are almost too good.
Each year, ninja camp finishes with a big contest. The neighboring dojo, Camp Phantom Strike, will bring it's top team to compete head to head with your team, Camp Thunderclaw, for the Ninja Camp Trophy. You've seen the trophy on display. It's quite impressive and looks pretty old. There's even a figure cast on top: The Red Raven. Said to be one of the greatest ninjas ever to attend ninja camp.
A week before the competition, the whole camp assembles for try-outs. It's a day full of fierce competition. You make it all the way to the semi-finals, but the group at the top is highly skilled and made up of veterans. Your opponent is Kira. You've seen her Dragon fighting style and it's quite impressive. For the first part of the match, you think you just might win, but a split second into your attack, Kira takes your legs out from under you. You look skyward as you land on your back. You've lost out on being in the competition team against Camp Phantom Strike.
2 days before the competition, one of the camp leaders comes to your cabin and calls you to the main dojo. Sensei is looking grim and standing with the rest of the team. Everyone except Kira.
"You have been promoted to the competition squad. Kira is nowhere to be found and the Ninja Camp Trophy has been stolen in the night! There is no time to lose. You must begin training to defeat Camp Phantom Strike."
"But sensei, we need to find out what happened to Kira!" says Geoff.
"It is too dangerous and time is too precious. Leave the investigation to the authorities."
With that, sensei and the camp staff leave your group to the main dojo to train. You notice Geoff starting to head off towards the rear door of the dojo. __________________________________________________
To ignore Geoff, allow the sensei to leave, and nurse a secretive cigarette before heading off to training, turn to page 11.
You sigh, then walk out around the back of the cabin and into the woodline enough not to be seen by anyone around. I mean, except for actual ninjas. You're not dumb enough to think that a real ninja couldn't spot what you're doing, but you don't really care, do you? You're in way over your head, and don't really deserve to be where you are except for a strange happenstance with Kira.
Beneath the rock against the old maple tree is what you're looking for--a bent-up pack of Lucky Strikes. You grab one of the slender cigarettes within, then return the pack beneath the rock and settle it back into its place. The cool, sweet-nutty smoke curls from the end of the unfiltered cigarette, and you recline against the old tree, breathing in deeply through your nostrils. Closing your eyes, you listen to the songs of the birds in the woods and the slight babbling of the nearby stream. In your mind, you see a whole dojo of ninja trainees, but they slowly shift into Lucky Strikes, then move around in synchronized rhythm. That's the way to train. That's right.
"It's Toasted," that's right. Mmhmm.
In the distance, a gong tolls, sending a brassy sound across the hazy afternoon.
Dammit. That gong means time to clean the latrines. You know you're on latrine duty. You've been holding it this whole time because it's pretty gross in there.
To shift uncomfortably, shirk responsibility, and continue enjoying your smoke, turn to page 200.
You turn and wander deeper into the woods, the smoke trailing behind you. Training can wait, right? So can latrine duty. Maybe let those other dweebs clean it up and then you can go relieve yourself. Or at least sneak into the sensei's Airstream and use his toilet.
The woods are pretty dark, really. You cough a few times. That nutty flavor...so good. You cough again. Then stop...did you just hear whispers? You look around the dimly lit copse of trees you're parked in. There it was again. Was this some secret training session, or...something else?
These are not the droids you're looking for. You can go about your business.
Stamina 2d6 = (6 + 4) = 10
You grab a six foot long branch that is perfect for striking while being as nimble as you can. You've seen Bruce Lee do this a zillion times watching his old movies. Instead of a hard poke, you bring the branch down upon the bush uttering a growly "ye-aw!"
Your branch strikes something very solid and then that solid thing crumbles to the ground. You smile in delight and mutter under your breath. Don't mess with the best.
You wander to the other side of the bush to investigate, your staff at the ready.
Uh oh! It's time to try and remember what the camp trophy looked like before you mangled it, turn to page 132.
You try and remember what the camp trophy looked like before you mangled it, but here you stand. The stick you grabbed must be some bodacious hardwood because the trophy is now an amorphous blob of metal. The plaque on the front is the only way you're sure of what you've destroyed. Why is it out here?
You take another puff and squat down behind the bush to investigate further. The glowing ember of your illicit cigarette illuminates your face in the underbrush.
You're no longer so sure that your attack on the harmless trophy was the lone cause for its destruction. It's been crushed by something incredibly strong. And now you see tracks in the soft earth surrounding it.
Whatever you end up doing, you'll need to repair and return the trophy. You reach to grab it.
Up you go...
When you pull on it, it's as if the trophy is stuck into a slot in the ground. Like some mechanical force is holding it there. You rock the trophy to the left and all of a sudden you hear a heavy stone grinding noise on the other side of the bushes. ________________________________________________
To save some money and the trophy, turn to page 22.
You think about all the money you had to chip in to pay for camp because your parents wouldn't pay for the whole thing. Now you have this trophy that is surely going to take a lot of money to fix. Well you now know you didn't break it so someone else is going to pay to fix it and maybe line your pockets some as well.
You strut through the bushes ready to accuse someone of taking the trophy and destroying it. At first you don't see anything, but you follow the noise towards a moving figure that occasionally has a shine coming off of it. "Hey you!" No response. You reach out to touch it.
You notice that your hand becomes stuck to it, turn to page 107
These are not the droids you're looking for. You can go about your business.
Stamina 7 2d6 = (2 + 6) = 8
Your hand! It's stuck to something cold and metallic. You're not strong enough to pull the object to you so you gingerly move closer to it. It's a robot!
You hear giggling running away from your location. In the moonlight, you can just make out Biff, one of the cocky tough guys from Camp Phantom Strike.
But, back to the here and now, your hand is stuck to a robot!
Your thoughts go crazy as you know that Biff must have something to do with this, but you are stuck and can't do anything else at the moment.
Focus....Focus....Think of your training. Oh, there was that one teaching that I had read about it in an indy comic book and thought it was a joke. But when I brought it to sensei's attention, he warned me that it was forbidden. Of course, I went out of my way to learn it.
You invoke the aspect of the drunken bearded lizard and turn to page 7.
Your hand might be stuck, but that's got nothing on a true ninja master, or at least a chump kid who knocked over a scroll case in the library last summer and got into some forms no one uses anymore... The figure in front of you is cast in dark, burnished green-black metal, with a cringe-inducing stereotypical "samurai" look to it. Ugh, this thing looks like Darth Vader without a cape! you think as you try to recall the mantras you weren't supposed to learn that time you looked at the scrolls you weren't supposed to find on that day you lied to sensei about the duties you weren't supposed to skip.
"Beneath the trees, arrayed in threes, below your knees, uh... bees and disease?"
The words sure don't SOUND like they belong to some super-cool old order of ninja practitioners, but what do you REALLY know about being a ninja, anyway? Sheesh, you've been a poser ever since puberty hit you like a freight train a few years back. As the words drift from your lips, an odd tingling sensation thrums down your stuck arm, and it... detaches... from your shoulder as if it were a lizard tail. Stranger still, a new arm grows right back in its place, but this one isn't rooted to an armored ninja-mech!
You duck, roll, and spin-kick up into the thing's jaw, clunking it over until it loses balance and falls into a nearby bush. Assuming the swagger of your new ultimate form, you chuckle darkly at the easily-dispatched camp intruder.
Turning to run, you are stopped dead in your tracks as you hear a voice come from the toppled ninja-mech--Kira's voice.
Now after all this time you can finally get what you deserve. To ask Kira the ninja-mech for her cute friend's number, turn to page 777.
You do one final roundhouse kick at the robot's head, causing it to bounce off into the distance. If you run in the direction that Biff took off towards...Camp Phantom Strike, turn to page 87.
Now is finally your time. You will seize the moment and get that cute girl's number. "So uh, Kira could you give me your cute friend's number?"
"DOES NOT COMPUTE. I am the cute one."
Kira the ninja mech stands up and gets into a stance.
"If you want the number of my friend that is definitely less cute than me you will have to beat me."
You agree and start to spar. Kira quickly beats you using her crazy robot ninja skills. She looks down on you while you are pinned using her foot. "A weak person like you will never get my friend's number."
These are not the droids you're looking for. You can go about your business.
Kira-bot's head goes flying off and you hear a splash as it hits Lake Umpqua. You run off towards Camp Phantom Strike, just knowing that they are behind all of this mess. And you bet Biff is totally behind it all!
You heart starts beating even faster as you duck under tree branches and weave through the brush.
You thoughts go crazy as you are running. Was Kira always a robot? Did they make a robotic copy of her and she's kidnapped by bad guys? You lose focus and come into a large opening and there is Biff and three of his friends.
It looks like they were waiting for you.
You pause for just a moment before focusing. You then remove the small bottle of Fireball whisky from inside your coat, throw it at Biff's head, then make a snide remark about how much it burns, turn to page 74.
You pause to compose yourself and regain focus. Your right hand instinctively reaches down to your side. You pull out your Wu Tang sword and let these chumps try your Wu Tang Style, turn to page 36.
The bottle crashes into Biff's head and you make your witty remark, self-exultant and seemingly in control of the situation. Biff curses, stumbles backwards, and starts yelling since there is BOOZE IN HIS EYES. His hangers-on from Phantom Strike look unimpressed with his reaction, and eye you up with some level of respect. You walk over to Biff and chuckle at his weakness, then turn to ask after Kira.
Jake Sweetkick and Chad Angel, the two cool dudes who introduce themselves to you as reps from your rival camp, tell you that Kira has been abducted becuase she, like Biff, was weak. You proved yourself, and it seems like they don't have any beef with you as a result.
"'Cha, like, you got skills, man. Like real skills. What do you think about coming over to our side? We're looking for raw flow like you can grind, bruh."
You mull it over. I mean, Phantom Strike are "the bad guys," but isn't it clearly established in the lore of this CYOA book that it's fun to do bad things? Here's a gif to prove it.
Smirking, you reach out to shake Jake Sweetkick's hand, then flash a very cool and very secret ninja sign to Chad Angel, who smolders at you in response, looking like equal parts teen heart throb and total edgy badass. The three of you turn to head back towards Camp Phantom Strike, when a searing pain blooms at the base of your neck, then your side, and then your back.
You roll over, vision blurring, to see Biff standing over you with a what looks like a broken bottle, currently dripping with your blood. You squint, and notice the mostly-intact label reads "SMIRNOFF ICE: APPLEJACK SKITTLE BOMBSHELL." Biff leers down at you, looks to the bottle, then back to you as you bleed out. "Guess it's time for you to... cool off, chump."
These chumps have no idea who they're messing with. Actually, that's doubly true as you race through the woods as a drunken lizard... A brilliant gleam of light streaks around you as you unsheath your Wu Tang Sword!
As you burst into the clearing, the four dorks from the opposing camp form a defensive semi-circle.
"You're no match for the four of us!" Biff cackles
"Haha! I've defeated the cyborg Kira single-handedly! Surely you'll all fall to my sword as easily!"
Biff's words seem out of sync with the movement of his jaw like some sort of poor language-dubbing. "We are well versed in your Thunderclaw style."
"Ah, but I'm also adept at the Wu Tang Sword Style!"
Biff holds out his right arm with an open hand, palm down. He closes his fist and shouts, "ATTAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
The first ninja leaps at your and looses 3/4 of its right leg as your blade whirls in a circle like a propeller. Sparks fly as the cybernetic appendage lands with a thud. The second and third make valiant attempts, but in seconds, you've cut them down to what looks like oversize action figure parts, sparking and with wires dangling.
It appears the Biff is the final challenge. But why steal the trophy? Was Kira a robot the whole time? The questions swirl through your head as you stare into the cold, calculating eyes of Biff.
___________________________________ Also, where does Geoff fit into all of this?
To ponder the mysteries of Geoff, turn to page 0.
For some strange reason, the remains of the trophy pop into your head. The figure on the top of the trophy wasn't there. Who was that figure? Think...think...
Of course, it was the greatest ninja of all time! The Red Raven!
If you try to summon the spirit of The Red Raven to aid you, turn to page 113.
You ready your Wu-Tang Sword, a non-stop rattle of questions running through your mind. Why was Biff so good? Why would he steal a trophy? Was Kira a robot the whole time? What is, in fact, da mystery of chessboxin'? And what's the deal with Geoff? He's stolen your baked potato at lunch in the dining lodge more than once, which is weird. And you know he's only here because his dad does really well at selling Tandy computers.
You clear this out of your mind as Biff laughs and, with sudden speed, reaches behind his head and grabs something. He tugs.
And tugs at whatever he's holding.
And tugs again.
He tugs the tab free and pulls zipper straight down the length of his body. Geoff emerges from the Biff-suit, still holding a sword. He smirks, his nascent soul patch wiggling a little.
"Look, ding-a-ling," he says, "you want answers? You're not getting them. Too bad. You're NEVER see Kira, the trophy, or Kira's cute friend again." He swings his sword in an impressive C.R.E.A.M. pattern, then lunges at you.
You've trained well, but you just forgot a fundamental rule: protect ya neck.
Biff's jaw drops. A large, muscular man with neat facial hair and a generous mohawk stands tall in the middle of the fray. He scowls and looks at Biff and then you, his golden chains and dangly earring shining more than they probably should.
"Who are you?" Biff asks, clearly a robot or someone who has never turned on a television.
"FIRST NAME, MISTER. MIDDLE NAME, PERIOD. LAST NAME, T!" the huge man bellows. You get goosebumps. He looks between you and Biff, then walks over and breaks Biff's sword in half.
"DON'T POINT THAT THING AT ME, FOOL."
Biff starts to say something, but Mr. T shuts him up by raising a fingerless gloved hand.
"LISTEN, DUMMY. YOU ACT LIKE THIS AROUND YOUR MOTHER?" Biff shakes his head. Mr. T then looks over at you. "HOW ABOUT YOU? YOU TREAT YOUR MOTHER RIGHT?" You nod, even though you distinctly remember telling your mom she was dumb because she wouldn't let you get a tattoo of a Decepticon on your stomach.
T shakes his head, then pulls a microphone out of his jean shorts.
Then this happens.
You look at Biff and nod. Maybe it was time to end this rivalry. Instead of looking for missing trophies or people, you might call your mom.