All You Can Eat Sushi

By Brendan Borba

19 year old Colin's life hadn't exactly been going well; and after waking up hung over in a ditch in the middle of no where he didn't think it could get any worse. He was wrong. A chance encounter with an infamous secret agent sends the hapless youth, and an equally odd-ball cast of friends, on an adventure around the world. Sleazy Panda gangsters, old venerable masters, pirates, rappers, and secret agents are only a few of the bizarre characters they encounter as they race against time to save the world (and Colin's ex-girlfriend) from an army of penguins hell bent on taking over the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brendan Borba
• Release date: Jul 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466116658

Brendan Borba

Brendan Borba was born in Burnaby, BC, on April 27, 1988. He currently still resides in the metro Vancouver area and writes books about pretty much whatever he feels like.get in touch with him at [e-mail]

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ALL YOU CAN EAT SUSHI

by

Brendan Borba

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Brendan Borba

Published by Brendan Borba at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Brendan Borba

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the authors work.

This book is dedicated to:

My wife Therese Joy, because she's always known.

Table of Contents

Chapter One: The Death of Roger Moore

Chapter Two: No Officer, Roger Moore's Dead Body is Definitely Not in the Trunk

Chapter Three: Nothing but a Towel

Chapter Four: Mah-Jong and Panda Bears

Chapter Five: Half Man, Half Penguin, Half Monster

Chapter Six: Really Can't Think of a Good Chapter Title for this One

Chapter Seven: Mystical Chinese Mountain Monastery

Chapter Eight: The Sleazy Bamboo

Chapter Nine: Get Fit With Master Jifu in Only One Day!

Chapter Ten: Nobody but You

Chapter Eleven: The Eternal Master

Chapter Twelve: Yo Hoe's, Hoe's, and a Bottle of Rum

Chapter Thirteen: It Only Gets Colder from Here

Chapter Fourteen: Why Colin Hates Penguins

Chapter Fifteen: The Grand Penguin-y Temple of…

Chapter Sixteen: And Now to Save the World

Chapter Seventeen: The Final Showdown: Colin vs. Steven Segal… Again

Chapter Eighteen: The Last Chapter of This Book

More from the Author

About the Author

Chapter One:

The Death of Roger Moore

Colin groaned loudly. He resisted opening his eyes. The various sharp pains digging into his back and the inevitable brightness on the other side of his eyelids gave him a pretty good idea of what he was to open his eyes to. Blinking several times, the bright sun rushed into his retinas. He slowly lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the full sun above. His head spun and his neck ached as he carefully turned his head side to side.

Hung over in a ditch, great way to start the day, he said to no one. He coughed and groaned as he pulled himself out of the ditch. The rough grass and dusty pebbles beneath him crunched as he stood to his feet. He ran his hand through his messy dark-brown hair while looking around trying to figure out just where he was. It certainly wasn’t anywhere he recognized. Pulling out his cell phone from the front pocket of his blue jeans, he tried to turn it on, but the dead black screen took pleasure in taunting him. He shook his head as he looked to the long forested road that sprawled in front of him. His head dropped.

Damn it. Go figures.

He wasn’t all too surprised though; that was more or less how his life had been going lately. He couldn’t help but smile in spite of it all. Hands held tight against his temples in an attempt to alleviate his headache he began to walk down the road.

One excruciating step at a time he made his way along the empty road. The asphalt beneath his feet gave little to his weary legs and the ominous oaks and cedars beyond shot high into the clear summer air. The hot summer day quickly turned into a warm summer night as, in a brilliant show of crimson and burgundy, the sun dropped behind the tall thick trees that blanketed his surroundings. Colin began to wonder just how long he’d spent in that ditch.

In desperate need of some water and a couple Tylenol, he trudged on. With his worn sneakers he kicked a particularly round stone down the road with him while humming the theme from Hawaii 5-0. His eyes twitched and he looked once more to the quickly vanishing sun, the coolness of the theme song not setting in until that very moment.

Where the hell am I? He thought, not admitting to himself that he really didn’t want to be walking down this road in the dark. His mind began to wander; what if there was a bear or cougar lurking in the woods? There more than likely was. He stopped and stood still for a moment, as if listening for any nearby predators.

Get a grip on yourself man! He tried reassuring himself, ten years of kickboxing and you’re afraid of some lousy animal. He continued walking again, but waited; what if there were mutant bears… with laser beams? Shit. Now he had himself scared.

He tried to take his mind off of laser capable mutant bears by humming the Hawaii 5-0 theme song again, but it just wasn’t the same. Now the only theme he could seem to remember was from Jaws; which didn’t exactly help.

God damned Paul! This is all his fault, He grinded his teeth, but stopped as it only made his head ache worse. Stupid him, Mr. Come on Colin, no need to be down, come out to UBC with me tonight, huge frat party, we can get hammered, it’ll be great! He mimicked, asshole.

Only a sliver of day could be seen on the horizon as Colin pushed on; a final ray of sunshine before the last traces of light disappeared behind the pine covered mountain side. The light drew Colin’s attention to something in the ditch several feet away. He stopped, turning his head sideways.

Was this just a cleverly laid out trap that the mutant bears had set for him? Or could it be, he wondered; a pile of treasure, or even a bottle of water; which at this point in time he happened to crave far more than any treasure.

He cautiously stumbled over to the whatever-it-was in the ditch. Leaning over to get a closer look, head still spinning, he fell face first into the dip at the side of the road. He laughed at his own misfortune.

Back in the ditch again, he chuckled. Trying to focus his eyes, he propped himself up on one arm and coughed as the dust settled around him. It was quite dark out now, but by the glittering of the stars above he could still see the black shape beside him. He reached over and ever so carefully graced it with the palm of his hand. He sighed with relief; it was only a duffle bag.

He grabbed it and swung it onto his lap. It was heavier than he expected and his fingers fumbled for a second, looking for the zipper. He unzipped the plain black duffle bag and strained his eyes to see in. It was too dark to see whatever was inside, so he reached in with his pale hand and grimaced at what he felt to be some kind of hardened gelatinous substance.

Yuck! he squealed out loud. He threw the duffle bag aside in disgust. Then, thinking for a moment, zipped it back up and slung it over his shoulder before climbing out of the ditch. It wasn’t every day you find a free duffle bag, he reasoned.

The bright nearly-full moon cast eerie shadows across the lush jagged landscape as Colin, whose hangover had subsided to a fairly unpleasant headache, continued his monotonous trek through the dark forest. He still wasn’t sure what was inside the duffle bag; but he was glad that at least it didn’t smell.

While walking, he slowly became aware of how great his vision was adjusting to the dark. He began to see the outlines of the trees better, even the road in front of him seemed to light up before his eyes. He smiled, proud of himself; figuring all those carrots he’d eaten had finally paid off. Then he realized that it was just the headlights of a car coming from behind.

Turning around, still in the middle of the road, he peered into the oncoming headlights; the very fast oncoming headlights. The roaring engine filled his ears as he leaped out of the way of the speeding car. He rolled over, dust filling his nostrils. He bounded to his feet, surprise turning to anger as the speeding automobile barrelled forward.

Hey! Asshole! Where’s the fire? Colin yelled waving his arms high in the air; the duffle bag almost falling off of his shoulder. The car stopped dead in its tracks some twenty metres in front of him. A split second later and Colin’s anger quickly dissipated as he noticed the reverse lights go on.

Yes, here’s my ticket outta here, Colin grinned. The silver coupe speedily reversed and braked hard just as the driver’s window was in line with him. His eyebrows rose as he checked out the flashy new Aston Martin. The tinted window slid down.

Hey, wanna give me a lift outta here by any chance? Colin asked shamelessly.

Where did you get that duffle bag son? The handsome, grey haired man sitting in the driver seat asked; his voice smooth as silk.

In the ditch, back there, Colin shrugged truthfully.

It’s mine, give it to me.

What? Hell no, Colin fought, aghast at the man’s straight forward attitude.

Look son, I’d love to chat, I really would, some tea would be nice too, but I need that bag! The man gave Colin a sexy-serious look. One that Colin found vaguely familiar.

Do I know you from somewhere? Colin asked.

There’s really no time for this! Give me the bag!

Noticing his newly found leverage, Colin pulled out his ace.

You see Mr. Someone-I’m-sure-I-know-from-somewhere, the thing is, in the whole ten minutes I’ve had this bag I’ve grown quite attached to it, and where it goes, I go. Colin smiled a toothy smile, a twinkle in his eye giving away his upper hand.

Listen son, you don’t know what’s in that bag. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want anything to do with it. Give it to me now and go on with your life.

Colin wasn’t going to let this one end any other way than him getting a ride out of this forest.

No deal! Colin mocked the television show. The man sighed and shook his head.

Look I don’t have time for this! He spat, nervously looking back down the dark road, breaking his suave demeanour for the first time.

Then, I guess you’d better take me with you! Colin insisted.

Fine. Get in.

Colin whooped with joy as he circled around the car; opened the door and sank into the beautiful leather passenger seat while several meters away in the thick brush of the forest, the beady eyes of hungry laser beam equipped mutant bears peered out at him studying his every move.

Nice ride! Colin exclaimed, running his hands over the smooth leather upholstery. His fascination with the interior of the car was abruptly interrupted by the sudden propulsion of the vehicle.

Holy shit homie! Colin exclaimed out loud, struggling to buckle his seat belt as the man sped recklessly down the winding road. Finally having buckled himself in, but not feeling any safer, he turned to the driver, and it struck him.

I do know you! You’re Sean Connery! Colin exclaimed.

Guess again, The man spoke mysteriously as his foot continued to weigh heavily upon the accelerator.

Oh, sorry man, I guess I don’t know you then, Colin was slightly bummed out, having thought he had it figured out.

It’s Moore, Roger Moore, the man informed, his blue eyes flickering in the glow of the cars heads up display.

Oh, yeeeaah, I know you! You’re Jame-

Shhh!

What?

We can’t say the JB word, Roger Moore whispered.

Why not?

Copy right infringement or something… Roger Moore shrugged.

Oh. Fair enough.

Roger Moore shook out his blazer, and cleared his throat, the suave returning to his eyes.

So, what’s your name? He winked at Colin.

Uhh… Colin, Colin was slightly disturbed.

That’s a very, sensual name, Roger Moore pursed his lips in that way that only he could.

Okay! Wait a second! Colin threw his hands in the air, genuinely freaked out, are you trying to make a move on me?

Are you a hot girl? Roger Moore asked; apparently just as confused as Colin.

What? No!

Are you sure?

Yes, I’m very sure! The two traded perturbed looks for several moments.

Then no, I am not making a move on you.

Colin held his disturbed look for a second longer, before looking to the speedometer.

Holy crap dude, trying for a personal best?

What? Roger Moore at first didn’t know what Colin was talking about, Oh no, but we must hurry because if they catch up to us we are in big trouble.

Who? And why?

They’re after the contents of that duffle bag, and we can’t let them get a hold of it. Roger Moore focused on the road and sped up even faster.

So, what exactly is in this duffle bag anyways? Colin asked, but Roger Moore had no time to answer, as both of them immediately turned their attention to the pair of headlights that jolted around a hairpin turn behind them.

The car surged forward as thunder roared through the car.

What was that? Colin asked, holding on tightly to the door handle.

Bullets of course. Roger Moore gave him that ‘obviously’ look.

Why are they shooting at us? Who’s shooting at us? Colin was visibly flustered; having never been shot at before.

Roger Moore turned to face a very worried Colin.

The penguins, His face was dead cold serious. Colin’s face also turned to one of seriousness. Bastard Penguins, he thought, he should have known they would be behind this; whatever ‘this’ was.

Roger Moore kicked it into sixth gear, pressing as hard as he could on the gas. The Silver Aston Martin grew faster steadily; skidding around the dark corners of the curving forest road, but the large black SUV behind, undoubtedly an Escalade; the penguins car of choice, was in hot pursuit and wasn’t giving an inch. Bullets flew from the barrels of Uzi’s as several penguins hung out the side of the black SUV. The front end of the luxury sport utility dug deep into the rear of the Speedster.

Shit, Roger Moore mumbled under his breath realizing he wouldn’t be able to outrun them. He looked to Colin, hold on tight son.

Taking a deep, regulated breath Roger Moore cranked the wheel hard, slamming his foot on the brake. The car, while still being carried forward with vicious momentum, spun around 180 degrees, placing it face to face with the black SUV. The British Secret Agent shot his arm out the window, gun in hand. He fired five or six shots at the oncoming SUV before swerving out of its way at the last second. Colin had his eyes tightly closed, but could still feel the barrage of bullets lodging into the front end and driver side of the car.

Colin waited, his eyes still closed, his entire body tense until he felt the car come to a full stop. Beyond the hum of the Aston Martin’s engine he could hear a screeching of tires and the snapping of wood. He persisted, waiting a moment longer then, mustering the courage opened his eyes. He looked nervously around. At first he could see nothing but darkness but as his eyes adjusted he noticed the clear skid marks on the worn pavement where the Penguin’s SUV had plummeted off the side of the road and into the forested ravine below.

Holy shit Mr. Moore, you must have great aim! exclaimed Colin, but as he turned to Roger Moore he realized that the penguins must also have good aim.

Look Colin, Roger Moore was hardly audible, blood pouring from his mouth, My time has come. You must not let the penguins get a hold of that duffle bag… He clutched at his chest, smoke still rising from the fresh bullet wounds.

Uh, Mr. Moore, I’d hate to be a bother, but uhm… don’t die? That would put me in a really uhm… awkward position. Colin pleaded. His mind raced, wishing he’d paid more attention in first aid class.

There’s one last thing Colin, Roger Moore ignored his concerns and motioned for Colin to come closer. Colin leaned over the gear shift towards him.

Yes?

If you were a hot girl, I totally would have gotten with you, and with that, Roger Moore died in the front seat of his Aston Martin.

Colin stepped out of the car, leaving the duffle bag in the passenger seat. He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes looking to the empty bullet casings strewn across the dark road, then to the still running bullet riddled sports car, and finally to the dead body inside.

Then, Colin did the only thing that any one could have done had they been in the same situation. He popped open the trunk, put Roger Moore’s body in it, got into the drivers seat and drove off down the road.

As Colin sped down the dark road, sitting in the blood drenched driver’s seat, mysterious black duffle bag on the seat beside him he couldn’t help but feel that his life was about to get very confusing.

Chapter Two:

No Officer, Roger Moore’s Dead Body Is Definitely Not in the Trunk

On any other occasion, on any other night, Colin would have been overjoyed at the opportunity of driving a brand new Aston Martin. However it wasn’t any other occasion and it was that night, and Roger Moore’s dead body was in the trunk and Colin, still slightly hung over, was unfortunately unable to fully enjoy the driving experience to the extent that the nice people at Aston Martin Motors Corp. had intended.

Colin lifted his hand from the wheel and rubbed his temple as he sped forward. The dense forest had subsided to little more than scattered brush as the odd house and an old weed ravaged sidewalk began to appear. He sighed with relief; glad that he had found his way back to civilization, but he shook his head as he tried to fully comprehend the events that had taken place. There road was still and quiet, void of anyone other then himself and he wondered what time it actually was; as well as where he actually was. He peered nervously out the side windows as the speedster continued onwards, hoping to see anything that would give him a clue as to his whereabouts. The houses, perched on the hills rising out of the side of the still winding road were eclectic and old. To his right, through tall towering firs and over the rooftops of low-lying houses he could see the shimmering of water under the moonlit sky.

He re-focused his eyes on the pavement in front of him and continued on. After several minutes the road straightened out and the sight of traffic lights brought a simple comfort to the nineteen year old. Though one problem remained; he still didn’t know where he was, and if he didn’t know where he was he wouldn’t know how to get out of where he was. He took a right at the light. As he straightened the wheel of the car an illuminated Chevron sign caught his eye. He pulled a sharp into the station and rolled cautiously up to the gas bar.

A frumpy looking old man, eye bags looking as though they might pull his eyes shut at any moment, stood out front of the gas bar puffing on a cigarette. The man wore a pale blue Chevron uniform, which ruled him out as a random homeless guy, though his facial features looked the part. Pulling up beside the old man, he rolled the window down.

Hey boss, Colin tried to put on a pleasant tone; ignoring the blood soaked seat he sat in. The man, who looked as though he might just fall over dead at any second, merely groaned in response. Right, umm, mind telling me where we are? Colin looked away, realizing how absurd his question was.

You don’t know where you are? The old man barked; his voice hoarse and raspy from years of too many cigarettes.

Honestly, no.

So you just got lost driving around in the middle of the night in a $160,000 car?

Yes, Colin almost believed himself. The old man must have found that entertaining, for he broke out in a laughter that quickly turned into a hacking cough.

How fast does it go? The man raised his eyebrows as his cough subsided. The question caught Colin off guard.

Fast? His reply was more of a question than an answer.

I could still beat ya’,

Excuse me? Colin wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

You see that beauty around the corner? The old man puffed out his chest. Colin squinted, looking to a red Pontiac parked beside a dumpster.

The Pontiac?

The Pontiac?! The Pontiac?! The old man seemed aghast at Colin’s under whelmed response, My son, that’s a ‘02 Grand Am. I could strip the metal off a Lambo in that baby!

You think so? Colin more or less didn’t care; he just wanted to know where he was.

I know so; want me to prove it to you?

No. Not really.

Oh, The man seemed disappointed.

But I’m sure it’s a real speedster! Colin spoke enthusiastically, humouring the old man.

Damned straight it is!

So, where exactly are we? Colin repeated his original question.

Oh, Port Moody, duh the old man answered, his mind still pondering the glory of his used Grand Am. Colin’s eyes grew large. Shit. He was in Port Moody. He’d never spent much time there before, but he knew damn well it was a small sleepy suburb of Vancouver, filled with artsy pickle-up-their-ass types and an obscenely bored police force. It was the knowledge of the latter that scared Colin the most. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the blood slippery beneath him.

His eyes darted to the duffle bag on the seat.

Hey, what’s the best way of getting out of here? Colin returned his gaze to the old man, trying hard to hide the panic in his voice.

Well that all depends where you’re trying to go? The old man arched his eyebrow. Colin cursed himself for not being more collected. He was certain Roger Moore never had problems like this.

Vancouver? Colin spoke suddenly. In honesty, Colin didn’t really care where he went; as he didn’t exactly have anywhere to go home to anyway.

Well, if you head straight down that way, He pointed to the west, Take a right before the hill and go straight, just follow it for a while and eventually you’ll find yourself on Hastings.

Colin only nodded, running the directions over in his head so as not to forget.

You know, one time, back in the seventies I raced some ‘stang there in my GTO,

Colin rolled his eyes as the crotchety old man went into great detail describing his race with some ‘young knuckle head’ in a mustang.

The old man stopped suddenly; his attention stolen away by something across the street. His eyes grew large and unblinking. Colin lowered his head and peered through the passenger window. He snickered at what he saw.

Some hooker in neon go-go shorts, a tight tube top and six inch heels was heading straight for them.

God’s smiling on me tonight, the old man grinned widely, eyes unwavering. Colin tried hard not to laugh.

Right, well see you later, thanks for the directions, Colin waved as he slowly pulled away. The old man only grunted; all his attention focused on the girl now stumbling up to the gas station.

Colin had released the clutch and was about to press on the gas when he heard a loud noise from behind. He looked into the rear view mirror; the girl was waving her arms frantically at him and running towards his silver sports car.

Oh shit, Colin swore under his breath, banging his head against the steering wheel. The old man wore an expression of utter disappointment as the girl ran right past him.

Hey there! The girl smiled, panting as she hung on the driver window.

What? Colin knew that this was the last thing he needed. However, he was shocked at her appearance. She was much younger than any hooker he’d ever seen, and she didn’t look at all like a drug user. She seemed more like a college student coming from a Halloween party than a hooker.

"Wow, no need to