“Here’s your pay, kid.” The foreman of the road crew dropped a few crumpled bills into Karl’s hand. “Now scram.”
“Come on, man.” Karl moaned. “What does it even matter? I’m sixteen. So what? I can scoop up dead raccoons better than anybody else on your crew.”
Magic samurai armor made everything cooler.
Grocery shopping became an epic battle between the forces of good and asparagus.
Restaurant dining became a chance to eavesdrop on fans of San Francisco’s samurai superheroes.
Going to school was… going to school. Not even armor could change that.
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