Entrusted with prepping the lemonade lemons or something that certainly involves a lot of citrus, this guy, mini-katana cutlery in hand, demonstrates the supreme skills of a citrus-cleaving master. He lacks the dramatic recon haircut and samurai getup of past fruit ninjas, but he sure does hack furiously and not-always-all-that-accurately at 140 or so of them (honestly, Grub sort of quit counting) in a task apparently so quotidian around these parts that a co-worker trots by on the way to the fridge undeterred by the fact that today may be the day she gets pelted by a hurtling severed digit.
