true ninjers know that skill and training can only take you so far, and after that a warrior's greatest ally is the mail-order catalog. somewhere a fallen ninjer clutches a fake dog poo, dried tears on his cold cheeks.
At first I thought he was going to turn out to be a robot and he had some kind of future-weapon hidden in the fake flesh of his arm.
Does anyone even make a gun-slider that isn't spring-loaded? This seems like having a modern-day action film where the hero muzzle-loads his Glock before finishing off the bad guy.