1590, JAPAN

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry I’ve been missing in action for a while, but I’ve got a good excuse. For the last five years, Lester and I have been living in a secret ninja clan deep in the Kii Mountains of Japan. I know I’ve said this before, but that was just because I had missed a bunch of Happily Ever After Assembly meetings and the Fairy Council was ticked off. This time the ninja were real and I have the battle scars to prove it.

It all started when we visited the secluded village of Koka to spread fairy tales to the children living there. Had I known the village was secretly a training camp for ninja warriors, I would have worn more comfortable pants. From the way I dressed, the ninja instantly assumed I was a samurai spy, which I took as a major compliment given my age. They captured us and threatened our lives.

Our only chance of survival was pledging our sole allegiance to their clan. Yeah, I probably could have whipped all their skinny butts with my eyes closed, but after everything I went through with Henry VIII, it felt good to join a club.

We spent the next several months learning all the ancient traditions and arts of ninjutsu. We had espionage Mondays, assassination Tuesdays, combat Wednesdays, deception Thursdays, and finger painting Fridays. I guess ninja are really into finger painting—who knew?

Once I mastered the skills taught to me, I began teaching the ninja a few of my famous wrestling moves from back in the day. They loved hearing my stories about dragons, so I gained a lot of respect. They called me Kunoichi Okāsan, which means Mother Ninja, and they called Lester Debuna Yatsu, which means the fat one.

We worked for the local landowners and used our skills against the corrupt samurai that were invading the land. These were some of the most intense battles of my life. Each time we went out on a job, not all of us returned. I’m not proud of everything we did, but at least I made some major dough.