For most of my message board accounts, I choose the name Yams. Ever since a few people have wondered the same thought over and over again. "Why Yams?" All I had to say was "Why not?" It had a long and complicated past to it, so I didn't feel like explaining it to them. But now, the mystery is finally about to be reveiled... *Dramatic music plays*
It all started back in my early days when I was playing old NES and Sega Genesis video games, and I found that I could only enter about five characters for a name or high-score. I very well couldn't enter my real name, as it had seven characters. I tried names like "Mario" but they just didn't have the flare of creativity that I needed.
Then it came to me at the dinner table: Sweet potatoes. "What is this stuff?" asked an innocent nine year old. "Yams," said my parents. I stared down at them thinking that this stuff has to be the most random thing I've ever seen. An afternoon later, I finally got the high-score on my Kirby Pinball game for Gameboy (which I still have by the way). I asked myself what to put as the high-score, but the only thing original that came to me was the word Yams. Personally, I didn't like yams, but the name was really neat. I put it in and felt satisfied with the word. And with that, the less-then-famous legend was born.
.... .. ...
That is how the name came to be. This is the story of my character, Yams the Ninja Chef...
Yams awoke that morning in an odd mood. He had the craving for peanut butter sandwiches that just couldn't be ignored. So he slowly got up and rolled out of bed. He looked in a nearby mirror to show a scrawny figure: himself. He ignored it as he walked down the stairs to his kitchen.
Yams opened the refridgerator door to grab a loaf of bread and popped his hand in a drawer to pull out a butter knife. He set these on the table with an abrupt plop. Peeking into nearby cabinets, Yams couldn't seem to find the jar. "Where could it be?" he asked softly. Walking around the house (still in his pajamas), Yams finally found it sitting next to the dusted old Sega Genesis in the living room. "Why would it--?" he started to ask, but as he looked down he saw a disturbing sight: his old video game system was drenched in creamy peanut butter.
"Aw, man. Now I have to clean all this up," he said with a groan. Yams' stomach let out a ferocious roar. "Maybe later..." he said with food in mind.
When he got to the kitcken, he attempted to unscrew the cap of the jar, but it was thouroughly stuck. With a sudden flow of anger, Yams whipped out the knife on the table and jammed it into the lid and pulled the lid clear off. In doing so, the whole kitchen became drenched in peanut cream which left Yams even angrier. He ate the sandwich and with a grunt, got the mop out of the closet to clean the mess up. When he came back, an ominous figure was standing in the middle of the mess.
"What are you doing in--?" Yams tried to ask.
The figure moved with a stealth assassin-like movement around to my left side. "I am here to grant you the powess of the ninja." the man spoke with an aged voice.
"No really. What are you doing in my house?"
"Never mind that. Do you want the power of the ninja or not?" the old ninja asked.
"What do I have to do? Slay a dragon, save a princess or train for a thousand years?" Yams asked sarcastically.
The man shook his head. "Normally, but in this case you must face something that has not been accomplished in ten thousand years. Slowly, the man reached into the pockets of his purple robe to pull out a glowing cylander.
"What is that?" Yams asked.
"The Jar of One Thousand Years. It is the ultimate challenge."
"What do I do now?" Yams was becoming more and more interested about this mysterious task.
"Open it." He held the jar out to show that it was an ordinary jar of pickles from about one thousand years ago.
Yams could have sworn this was all a sick joke, but by the look on the old man's face, this was serious. He put his right hand on the jar while the left one held it in place, as he tried as hard as he could to open the ancient jar of pickles. "It's...no...good!" Yams spoke helplessly.
"Perhaps...that you are not the chosen one..." the old man said.
"Give me a minute!" Yams said as he reached over to the table to grab a butter knife.
"Take this!!" he screamed as he impaled the jar with the silverware. As he pulled the knife out, the jar glowed bright green and the lid exploded into a chalky green dust.
"The jar! You? You are the chosen one!!" the man leaped with joy, but soon stopped because of back pain.
"I am?" asked a confused (and really old pickle juice stained) Yams. "Wow. This won't end well."
