Phillip was a deadly assassin. Trained for 20 years by the most deadly martial artists, taught the art of poisons by the world's worst chefs and taught the art of war by reading Sun Tsu. He was also rather partial to a drop of alcohol. This became a problem after he ran out one night and, knowing that the only bottle of saki was owned by his master, he decided it would be best to slaughter his master's entire staff, family and friends and then strike down his master with his cold blade (which to be fair had warmed slightly due to the day's murdering).
Now he is a masterless master of death, banished from his native land, he has moved to Leicester in
Phillip woke to see the sun setting out of his bed sit window. Nigel, his flat mate, had come home and cooked. Good, Phillip could steal some tasty left-overs before beginning his night's work. He slipped silently out from the back of the couch which had been his secret daytime sleeping location. A clever choice of hiding place, though the decision had not entirely been of his own choosing. He had been coming in from last night's mission when he had drunkenly tripped on the couch and landed there. His instincts told him that he had found a safe place, and it wasn't worth trying to move to his bed from here.
His night's work would not be easy; he would have to move quickly over the roof tops to get in to position. He finished the dried pasta he was eating out of a frying pan before sliding the window open, he spotted a sign on the whiteboard by the door.
"Get some money, pay the rent or find a new place to live. - Nigel". A clear sign that Nigel was wishing him luck on his mission. He stealthily slipped out of the window, and onto the rooftops.
The night air was cool, and Phillip rubbed his eyes clear, and readjusted his ninja mask. He must not be seen.
Quietly he slipped over the roof tops, sensing his target was getting ever nearer, his senses beginning to heighten, the alcohol wearing off. He knew that he didn't have much time left.
He leapt from one roof to the next, never making a sound, bare feet allowing him maximum grip, his gloved hands trailing along the roof tiles, staying as low as possible.
There! He saw the silhouette in the alleyway below him. It staggered side to side, bouncing off the brick walls as it made it's way down the path. Phillip crouched, peering below him. His hand closed around the handle of his deadly ninja blade. Closer...closer....
NOW! Phillip saw the glint of glass in the man's hand as he dropped down onto him. Blade in hand, he drove it down into the man's neck. The body dropped to the floor. Phillip snatched at his prize; stopping the bottle from smashing onto the pavement. He held it up in the light. 'Morrison's Value Gin' the label read. He allowed himself to smile, it was a successful mission. His master would have been proud.