A Nap, A Crew of Scurvy Knaves, An 18-Wheeler, and A Workable Distraction, or, Don't Give Up Now Folks... We're Almost There

When I finished sending nefarious emails I hit my bunk for a short cat nap.

A few hours later it was still dark, but I dragged my barnacled butt out of bed, tossed on a rather kick ass and frilly shirt, some black jeans and yet another pair of my ubiquitous boots.

I strapped on my cutlass, checked to ensure that my flintlock was ready for action, stuffed my recovered multi-tool in one boot, and sashayed to the deck.

Thanks to the superior sailing skills of my loyal crew, we were already nearly at our destination... The port of Boston.

We would make those ninjas sorry for their shenanigans.

And take out the forces of standardized testing at the knees.

I could almost hear the rousing strains of "The Final Countdown" ringing in my ears.

When we made port, the boats were lowered, and we filed on board.

Within minutes we were trooping stealthily (for pirates anyway) through the streets of Boston, headed for the Northeastern headquarters of that hive of scum and villainy... The College Board.

Stationing the bulk of my force around emergency exits, myself and a few of the bravest souls headed for the rear entrance. Dodging guards, and even a few ninja sentries, we made our way to the loading dock.

There we waited.

Within minutes of my text message to "Brisket" Cosgrove, the sound of an 18-wheeler on steroids came echoing down the entrance to the monolithic corporation's headquarters.

He was right on time.

A few mothballed security guards, and quite a few ninjas came hustling out the back entrance, leaving the dock almost entirely deserted. Cosgrove took this opportunity to gun the huge beast's engine, and make straight for several, much smaller, vehicles.

The scene on the dock was total pandemonium as Cosgrove took out three small trucks and an SUV that stood inconveniently in his path. Ninjas were whirling into action, taking aim with smoke bombs, throwing stars, and several makeshift weapons, but Cosgrove had chosen his vehicle well, and he shook off every attack like a horse shakes off flies with a flick of its tail.

Seeing that he had the distraction well in hand, I signaled to the loyal band of scurvy knaves with me, and we snuck in the back. Some of my men had daggers clenched between their teeth, and Grrrrl had her lock-picking tools in hand. Of course, by lock picking tools, I refer to horn of gun powder and an unlit match. She took only moments to pop the lock on the final door standing between us and a back hallway to the offices of The College Board.

We were in.

And those damn ninjas had no idea the hell they had brought down upon themselves.

I just love it when a plan comes together... as a famous actor once said.