4. Flat Ninja!

4 Flat Ninja! Stanley was taken to Oda Nobu's personal tailor, where he was measured for a ninja uniform. It took the tailor a little time to figure out how to fit a boy only a half inch thick. But in the end the uniform made of glossy black silk fit him perfectly. Stanley had never felt anything so soft. That night, Oda Nobu and Stanley rode through the crowded streets of Tokyo in the movie star's stretch limousine. The bodyguards followed in two other cars. They ate at one of Japan's most famous restaurants, where everyone, from the waiters to the other customers, smiled adoringly at Oda Nobu and Stanley. Even the chef bowed deeply when he delivered a long lacquered board covered with sushi to Oda Nobu's personal ninja.

If someone had told Stanley just a week before that he would be eating raw fish, and enjoying it, halfway around the world, he would have laughed. He was laughing now, but for a different reason. The food was delicious, even the seaweed and the smoked eel, and here he was sitting with his all-time favorite movie star! After dinner, Oda Nobu took Stanley to a karaoke bar. They took turns singing one silly song after another. The crowd burst into wild applause after every one. Stanley drank three

sodas that tasted exactly like bubble gum. He loved Japan! Only one thing bothered him. Just why did Oda Nobu want a personal ninja anyway? He found out the next day. Oda Nobu took Stanley to an exhibition of famous kites at a big modern art museum. After admiring the amazing kites—some like ferocious dragons, others like nearly life-sized houses—Oda Nobu stopped to speak to a group of reporters. They spoke in Japanese, and Stanley didn't understand a word. But then one of the reporters asked a question and pointed at Stanley, and everyone laughed. Oda Nobu looked at Stanley and shrugged. Then he picked Stanley up and smiled—and tossed him high into the air. For a moment, Stanley hung there beside the kites on display, caught by the draft of the museum's air-conditioning. It reminded him of other times he had flown like this—once in the park, with Arthur skillfully flying him with the other kites, and another time at Mount Rushmore. That time, he had been caught by a gust of wind and flown out dangerously close to Abraham

Lincoln's bushy eyebrows. But Arthur had cleverly thrown him a lasso and guided him back to earth. Stanley had always felt safe with his brother on the ground below him. Below him now, the crowd laughed and applauded. But then the air conditioner's breeze stopped and Stanley plummeted to the hard marble floor of the museum. Everyone laughed, including Oda Nobu, who looked very proud of himself. Everyone except Stanley. Later that day, Oda Nobu took Stanley to the studio where he was making his latest movie. Stanley was thrilled to watch as his hero stood before the movie cameras and pretended to be the most famous samurai of all time.

But something was wrong. Time after time, Oda Nobu stopped the action to complain to a man Stanley guessed was the director. The actor would cover his face, squinting and frowning. The director would shrug, shake his head, and start the scene over again. The fourth time this happened, Oda Nobu seemed angry. He made the same gestures again. The director shook his head again. Then Oda Nobu pointed to Stanley and said something to the director. The director nodded. The next thing Stanley knew, he found himself at the top of a long pole. He was stretched out on a frame, his hands and feet held by clips. A man on the ground held the pole, keeping Stanley between the bright sun and Oda Nobu's face below. With the sun no longer blazing on Oda Nobu's face, he was able to finish the scene. And everyone was happy. Everyone except Stanley. That night, Oda Nobu held a big party at his home. "It is in your honor, Stanley-san," Oda Nobu said. "The most famous people in Japan are coming to meet the most famous Stanley Lambchop."

Stanley was pleased. Although he had grown tired of all the attention that had come with being a flattened boy, he thought tonight would be different. The party was in his honor. But then, in the middle of the party, some ladies pointed at Stanley and asked Oda Nobu a question. The ladies giggled. Oda Nobu shrugged as if to say, "Why not?" He picked Stanley up off the floor and then expertly folded him into an origami star! "Hey!" Stanley shouted, into the back of his own knee. "Cut it out! Unfold me!" Oda Nobu held the Stanley-star high above his head, so that everyone at the party could see it. Then, with one loud snap of his fingers, the star unfurled! And there was Stanley again, crumpled, creased, and very unhappy.