“Fine,” I said with confidence, “I accept your challenge. The weapon shall be… swashbuckling!”
In the instant of the ninja’s confusion, I struck. With a hearty “AVAST YE DONG-MONGLING SCUM!”, I jingled my coin-purse and tore off my shirt to reveal perfectly shaped breasts. The ninja fell, defeated by my vastly superior pirate skills, not even having time to apply his rat kung fu to the pie in their hand. Swearing revenge for later that day, the ninja darted away, visibly shaken.
I retrieved my coat from the ground, bundling up against the warm sunlight. I smiled, knowing a warm hat was not necessary, the cold war was over.