User:Minicheatbook
minicheatbook - (Character ID #7737)
If you need to contact me, please do it in Twilight Heroes messages, or I am usually on around rollover (+-1hour).
Also, if you have any plasteel plating I would gladly take it. But, if you must get money out of it I will pay 80 chips per plasteel plating.
- 'Better lucky than good.'-Anonymous
- 'A rose by any other name would likely be "deadly thorn-bearing assault vegatation."'-Robert Bullock
- 'Just ignore it and hope it goes away.'-Anonymous
- 'A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same.'-Elbert Hubbard
- 'A question that sometimes drives me hazy; am I or are the others crazy?'-Albert Einstein
- 'If what goes around, comes around, does it come back the same way, or does it pick up speed and hit you harder than how you sent it?'-UnKnOwN
- 'It’s always the quiet ones.'-Various
Omake, Itachi can't find a place to hide
Itachi gripped his white ANBU mask, etched with the visage of a weasel.
With reverence he strapped it on, thereby joining Konoha’s elite ninja.
The first several months as an ANBU were fun, until he got the unfortunate of being assigned to the most boring job of guard.
The Uchiha stood, exasperated, at the gates of Konoha, watching for undesirables. It was tolerable, except the number of people who seemed to know him.
First it was a young Uchiha kid. “Hey, Itachi-san!”
Next, a couple days later, it was a chuunin, one he barely knew of. Same thing. “Hello, Itachi-san.”
Couple days later, and Itachi was getting frustrated. How did everyone know his name?
Then the real kicker. A man, one who had never been to Konoha, was bringing his cart in through the gate. Itachi, out of the small kindness in his heart, help the stupid horses move through the arched gate. “Thank you, Itachi-san.” The man called to him as he drove on.
Itachi gripped his hair and pulled. How did everyone know his name?! Wasn’t ANBU supposed to be secret!? He forsook his guard duty and raced down the street, searching for someone who didn’t know his name.
He raced over to an outdoor eatery, which was serving a young blond his daily dose of ramen.
Itachi looked at the young child, who couldn’t have been more than five.
“Hey, kid, what’s my name?” Itachi said, hoping this young child was fooled by his disguise. “How should I know your name, Itachi-sama?” the young blond said.
Itachi grabbed his hair. “But you just said it!” he screamed.
“Itachi? That’s your name?” the elderly man serving said. “Wow, you need to get out of ANBU. Your name isn’t what’s on your mask, you know.”
Itachi ran home, forgetting to thank the man. He ripped off the mask once he got home and stared at it.
“Weasel.” He said to himself. “Itachi.”
He burst out laughing. No one had known his name, they were merely calling him by his mask’s name.
