47 Ninjas

His house was surrounded. Takezo would have no hope for escape. He might have been able to elude thirty, maybe even forty of them. But not 47.

Every avenue of escape was blocked. They would not attack. Takezo could defeat them a pair at a time inside the narrow confines. Instead, they would wait outside. If anyone emerged, they would be assassinated. And if they remained inside, they would slowly starve to death.

His entire family would be eradicated in retaliation for his refusal. His name would be forgotten.

Luckily, Takezo was watching from the overlooking hill. He laughed silently.

St. George

They always want the same story. I've more grandchildren than I can count, so I’ve told it who knows how many times. Spent most my life in married bliss, managing the estate bought with that black wyrm's treasure horde.

It’s been a song worthy life, any way you measure. I met the king. I have more money than I could ever hope to spend. More land than I can travel across in a day. I’ve got four healthy sons with families of their own.

But I can’t help feeling that life has never been that exciting since slaying the dragon.

They Won't Make A Monkey Out Of Him

Even in childhood, William George dreamed of traveling in space. Rather than play outside, he would read science magazines. Instead of trips to the zoo, he built telescopes.

During adolescence, there were few friends, and no girls. Though he disliked sports, he ran cross-country in order to meet the physical requirements. He received his doctorate in Mathematics before he had turned twenty-five.

NASA immediately accepted him into the astronaut program.

Thirty years later, he still has never been to the zoo. How could he go to the primate house knowing that chimpanzees have been to outer space, but not him?

The Great Detective

It was the case that made him. No motives. No suspects. The victim was by all accounts universally beloved.

When Detective Byrne linked the brand of cigarette ash, the stray button made of gold-lip oyster pearl, and the Stratford Street haberdasher, he was hailed as the living embodiment of Sherlock Holmes.

Within the decade, Byrne was supervising the entire London department. The Haberdasher was eventually executed.

So when the poor widow received an unsigned letter--explaining how her late husband hired an ex-soldier to murder him before Sarcoidosis left him completely debilitated--it was twenty years too late to matter.

Jack

He was walking down the street when she accosted him.

"Why did you run away?"

He stared blankly. She was poorly dressed, maybe even homeless.

"You never called. You just abandoned me. I just got outta jail a week ago."

He tried to look appropriately contrite. He failed.

“Honey, they took away our baby. You gotta help me get her back.”

Finally, fearing she would not allow him to pass, he said, “I’m sorry, but I am sure we’ve never met.”

“How can you say that to me, Jack?”

“You see, there’s been a mistake. Jack is my twin brother.”

The Masked Crusader

Nobody has ever seen a hero quite like the Masked Crusader. Resplendent in his uniform of blue and yellow, he combines colossal strength with supersonic flight and a prodigious intellect. He seems to have leapt right off the pages of the monthly comics.

In his secret lair, he monitors police frequencies, intercepts 911 calls, even follows Twitter. He patrols the city streets at night, listening for cries of help. He wants the world to know the world’s first superhero is an agent for good.

But his greatest nemesis proves the suddenness of crime. He invariably arrives just after the fact.