Please Read And Review! And have fun!

The Foot Dude

I heard from an old buddy of mine that prison turns you into a racist, and not by choice. You go into the joint and start hanging around people of another skin and apparently it's the equivalent of singing 'zippidy do da' and skipping in the middle of their basketball court.

You're gonna get your ass kicked.

I hear it's gotten to the point that even the prison guards encourage the separation, if for no other reason than that they don't want to have to deal with the fights that break out when this unspoken rule isn't followed.

Well if prison is like that. Then being in the Foot Clan isn't so different.

See there are two divisions of the Foot Clan, those of us from Japan, and those of us from America. The Japanese branch is something like some family or whatever. They're a group of people who all live in the same area and train in the same art. Like one big happy squinty eyed family.

The American Branch though, uh yeah, we're nothing but a bunch of over egotistical fighting nuts who needed something to do to get rid of all our extra energy.

And for all you do gooders who can hardly imagine even taking your damn dogs for a walk let me spell it out for ya'. Folks like me HAVE to do something!

We can't just be satisfied having a normal boring ass job then coming home to our boring ass apartment just so that we can watch some boring ass television.

We just can't! And anyone who thinks that everyone can live that way are the kind of people who need to get out more in the first place.

So here comes the Foot Clan, the savior of all rambunctious teenagers and adults alike. The damn salvation for everyone like me who is trapped in this big city that looks down on anyone who even walks to fast down a sidewalk.

You start with free lessons in a dojo. Then end up with a job offer were you would be paid, actually decent money, for doing martial arts.

Martial Fucking Arts!

I mean who actually gets paid for that! It was crazy! So here I was a bored teenager with a mom so generic it would make anyone scream, and a grudge against my dad the size of at least a third of Texas.

…Hey that states huge!

And here comes the Foot Clan with this perfect proposition. Let's just say I took it pretty damn fast.

It turned out that I was actually good at Martial Arts. Seven years later and I'm the perfect 'American' Footie. (The other Foot guys hate it when I call us that.)

My leaders point and I kick, the leaders sneak and I sneak, the leaders say jump and I jump without asking how high. If I survived it was obviously high enough.

I've seen my best friends die. I've fought in more wars against gangs, mutants, and aliens than I think any soldier nowadays has ever been in.

Yet it still isn't as terrifying as that desk job I used to have nightmares of as a kid. I think my mom just told me about the glory of those life sucking monstrosities just to give me nightmares!

Besides I have probably saved more lives than all the police officers in this city combined, and after I save the poor citizen I don't even have to turn around and be a dick to them for parking wrong when I'm done.

No Dinosaur alien is going to shoot some little girl when I'm around. And forget about all those Purple Dragons punks who get a little too excited and start breaking into apartments. That's a no go bro.

And any mutant ninja turtle who thinks that they can just own this city and beat the shit out of whoever they think deserves it will have to answer to the Foot Clan. New York doesn't need them, we're already here, and so are the police. No one asked for their help. But damn they are strong! Next time I'll knock some sense into them for sure. Maybe I'll be feeling brave and actually aim for the blue one.

….. Uh, naw I'll stick with orange. It's on my bucket list to get one good hit on him. He's jumpier than a kangaroo on crack, my odds aren't looking good.

But till then it's time for some after training lunch, another perk for working for the Foot. Free food in a real cafeteria!

I walk into the place, ignoring the hideous shade of dark brown that colors the walls and the blood like red Foot symbol painted on the ceiling.

It's creepy as shit ok!

I grab a dark blue tray and make my way to the meat section of the food distribution area, passing the untouched salad bar as I walk.

I'm a little late coming into lunch today. Learned a few new jump kicks during training. And nothing distracts me more than an excuse to jump higher than a human's head! The meat bar is crowded, as it usually is. But unlike usual for this time of day it's crowded by much shorter people. The Japanese guys.

They must have just gotten out of their own training.

Truthfully I don't like this whole race thing that goes on around here. If it was anyone but me in this position my white ass would be shoving through these guys and grabbing the meat with my bare hands. Purposely not using the big fork that's placed conveniently on top of the steaming pile of ham, you know, just to be a dick.

But it is me, so I don't do that. Unlike us American Footies these Japanese dudes have some self-respect, and prefer to get their food in an orderly good ol' fashion line. So you know what, so will I….. For today.

I wait patiently in line, ignoring the twitch of anger in one of the Japanese's eyes when I accidently bump my tray into his back. It doesn't take that long. And soon enough I have enough ham to feed three and a half tigers.

See, being nice isn't that hard.

I walk over to the table I usually sit at. My co-workers are all pretty cool. I can't say I have any great friends with this bunch yet. My last 'best bud' was killed five months back and none of these over passionate bastards can seem to take his place.

But eh, they're nice enough guys.

The table is long and filled with, you guess it, only Americans. I sit in the middle in-between Jim and a blond we all call Custard. (Apparently he likes custard.) Both of these guys are bigger than me. But really most of them are. This wasn't the case when I first joined at fifteen. But somewhere along the line everyone outgrew me. Shame.

I'm not lanky, or that stocky, or even that short. Just an average height with an average build. Except for the fact that my muscles are toned to the bone! And I can't be too jealous when my face is sexier than a hundred fucking mugs.

So yeah, I got nothing to bitch about.

"Where you've been Liar?" The names Liar, because I refuse to be called Larry. Thanks for the great name mom… Aaaand because I may have a habit of lying about who actually steals the cookies at the Christmas potluck every year.

It was Big Mike who spoke. He's sitting across from me, with skin a shade darker than basically everyone else at this table. And he is huge! Lift you up with one hand by the face huge.

We don't always get along, but he's a nice enough guy.

… I feel like I have to say that a lot about these people.

"Just learning how to jump higher than all you fuckers," I say smiling back at the big guy. Especially since I know that he can't even jump high enough to get up onto a horse.

Custard chuckles next to me, "Trying to make up a few inches there."

The little blond bitch then ruffles my hair to make the point that he is in fact taller than me. You know, in case I couldn't tell.

I swat his hand away with a smirk, "Try saying that to the Japanese I dare ya', those shorties jump three times higher than any of us."

Custard gives a grunt of displeasure at my words and turns back to his ham. "We all need to be able to jump higher, and not because of them. If one of those turtles jumps over my blade one more time I'm going to bring out a gun and just aim for their fuckin' toes. Watch them really have a reason to jump," he grumbles.

"Or you could just learn to swing faster," says Jim helping by pointing out the obvious, like usual.

"Fuck you Jim, fuck you," Custard replies monotone as he takes a huge bite of the greasy meat.

Big Mike grunts in amusement before going back to his food. We all do. And everything is silent.

… Not that that can last.

"You know, Liar and I were fighting the orange one the other night," Jim says.

Oh right we were.

"And guess what he yelled this time?"

Custard snorts into his water bottle, "Oh this ought to be good, what did the freak say now?"

"Yo-Ho."

….

"What like pirates?" I ask. Yeah I was there, and I think that orange did yell that. Followed by a very unconvincing 'aaarrrrrr,' but it didn't register till now that the orange thing was actually trying to be a pirate! I mean 'cowabunga' and 'buya' was already weird. But a pirate!?

"No, no I can't beat that. That is the stupidest one yet. Not even him yelling at me about how pretty he looks all the damn time is dumber than that," Custard replies staring at Jim in awe.

Jim, not happy with the lack of laughter but satisfied with the looks of amazement, continues, "I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the red one wearing an eye patch."

The red one had an eye patch! I really need to pay more attention.

"What so it was like a joke?" Custard asks

"I like his sense of humor," I say, since it sounds like something I would do if any of us ever has to wear an eye patch.

Jim snickers at my declaration, "That's just because you've never grown up Liar. You're still a teenager in the head."

"Heh, you bet your ass I a-"

…What?

"Liar?" asks Jim looking at me suspiciously as I suddenly go quiet.

Wait a second. Orange screaming jokes, Reds obsessive need to cuss after every punch, that look in purple's eyes whenever we corner him. Their height….

"Jim, Custard," I say slowly wanting a real answer, "Why do you say teenager?"

Jim looks at me like I'm crazy, so Custard's the one that answers, "Dude the turtles are teenagers."

….

….

Oh my fucking god.

"How do you know that?" I ask still very slowly.

"Everyone knows that Liar," Custard explains looking unconcerned, "the Shredder told us a couple times. Not that you ever listen to what he says. It was their dad or something that Shredder had a hard on for to kill in the first place. Now he just hates all of 'em."

Teenagers.

"How old?" I ask.

"Look Lia-"

"How fucking old Custard!" I snarl, still keeping my voice low.

"Fifteen! Jesus fucking christ Liar calm down."

Fifteen. Dear god I'm fighting fucking babies!

How could I, why the hell are we!? They clearly have human intelligence. We all know that by now, why are we killin-

"Liar," this time it's Big Mike, he can see the tension in my shoulders no doubt. "It doesn't matter how old they are. There are young soldiers everywhere. These turtles are monsters and need to be stopped. You've seen what they can do, who they can kill."

Oh yeah I've seen it all right. I've seen it and it isn't that fucking bad. They may have killed some good men around here, but we always attack them first! I thought we were just trying to teach some goody two shoe freaks not to try and play hero in a city that doesn't need it. But these guys are fifteen! They don't know any fucking better! Of course they're trying to play hero, they're bored teenagers, what else are they going to do all day? Every man at this table can relate to that!

Well there's only one thing to do, and that's what I want. I've never done anything less in my life.

"Uh yeah no, I'm out," I say picking up my tray and moving to get up.

Big Mike gets up with me, a sure sign of a fight. "Don't you walk away from this Liar," Mike spits my name at me, not hard to do considering what it is.

Everyone is watching us now, just great.

"Unlike you Mike I don't need to fight babies to feel like a big man."

"They are monsters Liar! You walk away from here and the Shredder will hear about this. You won't be able to come back ever again."

Orange, laughing after red makes a joke.

Blue looking at us with surprise after an ambush, a pizza stuffed in his mouth.

Purple watching us with fear as we throw knives at him.

Red, fucking Red, talking about fighting us like in his video game.

My friends head, dead eyed and staring after blue cuts it off.

….

….

"No I'm done," I say to Mike and turn to walk away. Mike tackles me from behind and we roll together. The tray in my hand was tossed to the side the moment I saw a shadow move behind me. I roll with Mike positioning my knee to dig into his side the moment it's my turn on top. The knee pushes in, encouraging his lungs to stop and take a breather. I palm the side of his face before he recovers. Still dazed I grip the top of his mostly shaven head and use what little leverage I have from my position on top of him to slam his head into the floor.

Again and again.

Big Mike, like the tank he is, recovers quickly and reaches a giant beefy hand for me. I roll off of him and race for the door.

No one tries to stop me.

-Hey babe how r u?"-

-Liar what's wrong?-

-I just love you so hard-

-Liar you never text me unless you have a stupid joke or you want to bitch. So what's wrong?-

-Ok, ok. So about my job-

-Yes?-

-Its a long story. You might want to sit your perfect ass down-

-…. What did you lose it? How can you lose a job as a pretend ninja?-

-I was real!-

-You wore pajamas-

-No, but not the point. About my job-

-Yes?-

-Turns out that all this time I've been trying to kill kids-

-…-

-Just found out today-

-…-

-I swear I just found out today-

-Liar-

-Yeah babe-

-No sex for a week-

-SHIT-

I shove my phone into my pocket frowning. My babe's the best. I guess I'm getting off easy. But damn what am I going to do all night?

Look for a job I guess.

…..

…..

…..

NAAAAAH

I have a better idea!

I turn and head into the nearest store to spend more money.

"And you're sure that this is the latest model?" I ask the Target employee that has had the unfortunate luck of helping me buy my purchases for the umpteenth time.

The young man sucks in a breath. I put his age no older than twenty. He is thin, tall, and covered in acne scars. The poor lad. His face is thin with eyes disproportionately wide. Overall he just looks weird. But I for one am willing to overlook this fact on account that this guy is just too goddamn funny.

"Yes sir, as I've said that is the latest model that has been delivered to this store," the young man, Dennis according to his nametag, says these words with a hardly disguised bite to his tone and fire in his eyes.

I smile wider, I can feel my eyes shining in amusement, "Aw but that doesn't tell me if it is the latest model just that it's the most recent that has been delivered to this store."

Ohhhh he is pissed.

Dennis's already large blue eyes widen further, his mouth turns from a light frown into a wiggling mess that is hardly containing the cuss words that this guy wants to toss my way.

See fun?

"I can check…. On the computer…. If you'd like…. SIR," he manages to say twitching his eye in his attempt to keep his anger in check.

"Naw that's ok," I say tossing the packaged console controller that I was holding right at the Dennis's chest. He fumbles as he tries to catch it. His arms are too long to comfortably catch anything that close to his middle, he ends up catching the thing in a hug like grip, like a girl. "I didn't really want it anyways, I'll just buy the oldest version you have, it's cheaper that way ya' know. Thanks for your help dude."

With that I strut away, nose practically facing the ceiling.

I hear the man make an inaudible gargle behind me. I turn just enough to see the boy grip the un-bought toy in his hands with enough strength to turn his knuckles white. His face is nothing short of… hilarious.

Damn there is nothing funnier than picking on people with tempers. How can they get so angry? Well seems like their problem, I'm just here for the free show. And I admit that I may be a tad stressed. It's not every day that you lose the only job that you've known your whole life. Outcasted with no previous job experience that any employer is going to give a shit about, in a city that is about to become a hella' lot more dangerous for you after you're old boss hears that you've deserted.

So yeah, no big deal, but I'm a little stressed.

I finish the short walk over to a bin set aside at the end of the display case of new x-box video games. The sign above the metal bin reads 'used.'

Hey I'm about to be unemployed for who knows how long. I'm not stupid enough to spend that much money!
Tightening my arm against my side to keep the old five dollar movie from sliding out from under my armpit I lean over and start to dig through the bin. Growing up I never played many console games, the only console I actually played was the PlayStation. And that was after I grew up and got my own apartment with my girl. So I don't know a lot about them. But that there looks like a perfectly fine used PlayStation controller! I'm just going to ignore the dot of pink paint on the handle. It'll be fine for this.

I'm just gonna throw it anyways.

This, this right here, this is something I can't let myself miss went I get a job like a normie.

Roof hopping.

My muscles strain effortlessly as I sprint, moving with me as my trained body springs over gaps and up walls in maneuvers that would make Parkour lovers rightly jealous. There's no wind out tonight, so I'm making my own. My shoulder length hair is fanned out, flying behind me. Long hair won't get in your way if you're moving fast enough. With my next step I strike the rooftop hard with my heel, rolling my foot sideways and onto the tip of my toes. I push off like this twisting with my hips into a full twist flip.

Ya' know, because I can.

This is why, this right here is why I ignored everything. All the signs that the people I was working for were shady as fuck, all the signs that we were being killed to take out children!

But I'm not blaming myself. Because nothing feels more free than running on these rooftops and illegally up these walls. Heck my girl and I met after I watched her jump from one roof to another one night. We were just scrawny punk kids back then. I remember she was trying to sneak back into her parents' house or something after sneaking out for a party.

She didn't even jump the roofs very good. She was uncoordinated and purposely landed on her ass after every hop.

But she did jump them, and after that she was mine. And if I don't do this, if I've ruined everything for us without ever making sure, then I don't deserve her.

Yeah right, like I ever have.

The run is over to fast for me. So stupid! I just had to climb a building so close to where I needed to be. I couldn't have started on a roof a few blocks over, just for the hell of it?

Too late now.

I jump one last time onto a roof. Landing with my knees bent till right before they'd reach a ninety degree angle. This roof actually isn't a flat one, it points up into a spiral. The uneven footing actually makes me have to bend even lower and grab hold of a piece of the spiraling roof before I slide down. The backpack, that up until now has been snuggly secured to my shoulders, slips a little. After hopping up and down to move the backpack back into place I shuffle my way awkwardly to the other side of this circular spectacle of pointless architecture. Once on the other side I sit my butt down and look were I'm supposed to.

This spiral is one that the Foot has used a few times. In fact if the dipshits back in the cafeteria hadn't opened my super glued shut eyes I had planned on taking a platoon of the Footies here tonight to spy on our little green enemies.

See I found this pattern.

Every other Tuesday at least one of those turtles show up on the roof of the small little building right below this spiral.

Dean's Pizzareia.

Tuesday they have a sell on vegetarian pizzas.

I guess they are turtles. Although once I swear I heard the orange one yell something about gummy bears while he was eating a slice.

….The orange one.

I close my eyes and let out a weary breath as I watch the empty rooftop below.

The orange one.

I look over to the sound of girly screeching as I was helping one of the younger lads stand after getting hit in the gonads by red's heel.
It was the orange one, he was screaming like a girl, one leg lifted till his knee touched his chest. His body was leaned away from his opponent in a pose that was so Hollywood feminine that I knew he had to be acting.

Heh.

His so called opponent was Jim, so if we're all honest here orange had nothing to be screaming about. But I followed Orange's eyes anyway, and his dramatically pointing finger.

Jim was standing on an opened pizza box. The sauce and the cheese must've gone flying when Jim stomped down because the bottoms of both his pant legs were covered in greasy cheese and red juices.

"MY PRECIOUSE PIZZA!" The orange one yelled to a really really weirded out Jim, "You're a monster!"

….Well that sounded…. young.

I watched as Jim shakes his head and goes back to slashing at the turtle with his to heavy and too big for him swords. The dude's weapons might as well have a sign hanging off of them saying 'Yo, I'm compensating for something!'

Jim swipes air as Orange jumps backwards easily.

…..Who screams over pizza? In the middle of a battle who screams for pizza!?

.. Oh right I did, when I was a teenager and my stomach felt like a black hole our pantry could never feed.

I lean my head onto my open palm, then position the arm holding my head up so that my elbow rested on my same sided knee. No one's here.

But hey maybe that's just Orange, he's always been a character, I mean when would that fighting monster red ever-

…

Ugh, dammit. Ow what hit me? Oh right it was the purple bitch. He got me good with that stick of his. Uh ow, headache.

Groggily I turn my head from one side to the other so that I can look at more than a piece of the corner of the roof I'm lying on. Purple had hit me flat onto my stomach, knocking me out cold. Then apparently he just decided to leave me here to wake up on my own. We were supposed to intercept them near 40thstreet, but they turned up on a rooftop closer to 41st. Because of this my team made it to the turtles in waves, as we took turns being dumasses and chasing after the green enemies one at a time as we spotted them. This admittedly made us easy targets for them to pick off one by one.

My vision wavers for another moment and my ears ring, then both senses come back to me in one nauseating second.

I'm surrounded by the crumpled, and often bloodied, bodies of my team. I see Custard's unconscious form near my downed leg. He's currently using my upside-down knee as a pillow.

I think I remember purple getting him too. Good, most of the men who face purple make it back in one piece.

Weapons are scattered, men discarded like the garbage that everyone is during a fight. And there they were.

Two of them are still here.

It was dark, but those masks are bright and easy to make out. It's red and blue. But only red is moving. Red is moving a lot.

Red is knelt beside the body of one of my masked comrades. I can hear loud grunting and growling sounds broken by the occasional 'fuck' as he stabs repeatedly into the body below him.

His sais are being raised and released right into the corpse's gut, the turtles elbow moving back into position near his hip before executing another pointless blow. The entrance and exit of the weapon make a sharp squelching sound that can be heard even over the guttural cries of the turtle.

*spuweee*

"fuck"

*squeeckee*

"Argh fucking shit ugh"

*squweeee*

"AAAGH!"

The body doesn't twitch as red does this, meaning that this has been going on for a bit. The only movement that the body gives indicating its continued decimation is occasional jerks when one of the sias enters its gut at an angle.

My head pounds harder as I watch this, this display of complete overkill. An amateur move.

Blue must have finally had enough because he moves over and places a hand on red's shoulder, the red turtle freezes. "Don't hit me this time Raph," said Blue harshly.

Red bows his head his arms flopping down bonelessly to his sides. "I- I won't sorry bro, didn't mean to hit cha' earlier," red muttered softly. I almost didn't catch the words through the still rising pain in my head.

"It's ok. But he's dead, I'm sorry," Blue replied his tone much softer now. "C'mon, we need to get out of here."

Why is he apologizing?

Red takes a deep breath and stands up as blue does. Red turns around to look blue in the eye.

…. And he's crying.

"Damn Leo I'm sorry, I just-" started red, but blue cuts him off with a hug. It wasn't the most touchy hug, blue's body was a little to the side to keep it more brotherly than well, sisterly. But red just leans more into it, resting his head for a moment on blue's shoulder.

"It's ok really. I've done it before to," Blue said, in a now perfectly calm voice.

Red lets out a nervous chuckle, "Yeah? Heh good ta' know, and a, thanks for sending the others away."

Blue just nodded, I can't see his face behind Red's, but I bet it was nothing special to look at anyways. "You're welcome, now let's go home. I for one have had enough of this today."

And with that they left. And for the first time I could get a glimpse of the only unclothed part of the Foot ninja's body that red was mutilating, his eyes.

…. It was Black Bando.

My buddy for all of five years Bando. He was a good man, black from his hair, to his eyes, to his skin. In a few weeks he planned on leaving the ninja department in favor of working for the Foot's computer team. He was getting tired of having to work out all the time, and he was getting married soon. Bando wanted to make sure that he would be there for her when she gave him those fifty sum kids he's always wanted.

Bando, buddy.

Unless they wrap that stomach good and tight, your funeral is going to be a closed coffin.

I feel the familiar pounding of a headache as I remember Bando. That night was one of the longest of my life, and to make it better it started raining before my migraine eased up enough to let me move. It was the picture of perfect depression.

Strangely enough I was never angry at the turtles for Bando, or any of the others. In fact I never became angry at anyone for killing anyone, not really angry anyway. Unless they were innocents of course. After my teenage years all my anger seemed to wash away, almost overnight. Let's just say that losing the anger made keeping a relationship with the greatest girl in the world that much easier.

But Custard was pissed. In fact all of them were pissed, all the time.

No one who survived that night ever mentioned the stupidity of running at those four one at a time, or the fact that I saw Bando inches from slicing Blue's face open with his trusty elongated dagger before I was hit in the head with a really hard Bo staff. And I for one never said anything, or really thought much about, those tears that all amateur's cry going down that freaks face.

I've cried similar ones I guess, to my girl, a long time ago.

But adults have those fits too. You know, the one where you get a wee' bit emotionally crazy on the account of, uh I dunno, all the dead bodies! Yeah that must be it.

And besides blue acted with more maturity than I think I have in my pinky finger. There's no way that blue's a ki-

"That is not how a ninja should act!" screamed blue at Big Mike. Blue and Big Mike were standing across from each other in the middle of what I like to call a decently-devoid-of-junk rooftop.

Or a very flat rooftop.

Custard, Gunner, Bando, Jim, Ginger, Carter, Wan, and a couple others who don't really matter are all lined up with me against the cheap metal gate cutting off this portion of the roof from the next. Right across from us on the other side of the roof standing in a similar line is the other three turtles purple, red, and orange.

We were about to fight earlier, but Big Mike yelled that 'blue was his' and that the rest of us should 'back off'. Something about revenge or some bullshit like that. Then blue was like, 'bring it on, just you and me pal!' and red was all like 'Aw no I don't think so fearless ,' then Mike yelled 'you'll pay for stopping me from hitting that bitch yesterday'…. Yeah probably not the smartest thing to say cause then red paused, took a step back, put his hands in the air, and said 'Ok he's yours.'

So both groups took a step back against opposing chain link fences and leaned on them to get comfortable, most of us looking forward to watching some possible action without us having to actually lift a finger.

Blue and Big Mike stood across from each other. I was waiting for a fight. I was expecting a fight. Hell I was hoping for a fight!

What happened was a lecture.

"That is not how a ninja should act! Ninja's and samurai's should act with honor and a pure conscious understanding for the weak. Attacking those who are less capable of fighting back leads to chaos in the mind! I highly suggest that you go back home and meditate on these matters, I guarantee that you will come to the right conclusion and become a better person because of it!"

…..No one knew what to do, even Big Mike just stood there with wide eyes.

Finally orange snickered, "Ooooh duck and cover bros! It's Leo's special attack Lecture Leo!"

The red one snorts eyes wide and looking delighted, "its super effective against dumasses."

This caused even the purple one to chuckle with mirth behind his hand.

Big Mike charges with a very convincing 'Shut up!'

I agree.

Blue dodged easily talking to the other turtles as he moves effortlessly out of the way of the swings of Big Mike's sword. "Watch it you guys, I haven't lectured someone in six hours, I need to practice or I'll get rusty."

This comment caused the other three to burst out laughing. The purple one bent over double trying to mumble something, probably some witty comeback, but he was laughing too hard to get the words out. Jim's eyes turned murderous to my right, and Bando looked no less angry on my left. Jim takes out a shuriken and uses the distraction to throw it at the laughing trio. Custard and Gunner follow suit. Eh what the heck, I throw one to, at purple, since he seemed the most out of it to me.

Unfortunately, other than purple, the turtles were not as distracted as we thought. Orange caught every shuriken that came at him with his nun-chucks, his glee only growing as self-pride mixed with his humor. The red one knocked away all the shurikens aimed at him, on top of easily flicking the one shuriken I sent flying towards purple with the tip of his sai.

A new fight begins.

…Damn that wasn't even a good lecture! C'mon blue that shit must have been copy righted from some Japanese samurai show! And to Big Mike of all people! We all know that he's got issues. The man has some bad girls on the side, but what are we supposed to do about it? He's three times our size! And it's not like he actually rapes them. I mean I never thought so, the rumor mill says that the girls just freak out after they see the size of his dick. Better not to get involved, especially since Shredder seems to like the big guy. I feel for the girls, but he only goes after hopeless drug addicts anyways. But really there's no point in lecturing that guy. Might as well be talking to one of those automatic sliding doors when its closing hours, those things aren't gonna open.

Geez, at least I can rely on purple never giving me such stupid memories.

"I always wanted to try this!" shouted purple. We had him surrounded. There was no way he was escaping this time. As soon as he lets his guard down I'm going after his left shoulder. This one always seems to leave at least one side of himself open. I just need wait for the closer dudes on the right to strike, and then I'll break his shoulder from his socket!

But purple doesn't get into position to defend himself, even though out of all of them this one needs to. Instead he shoves his bo staff head first into the ground, then he backs a bit a ways, crouching down into a beginning runners stance. He had only one hand still on his staff as he stood side by side with it.

Now I'm not sure about everyone else here, but I've been to enough strip clubs to know that that's the position that a lot of the girls take right before they swing themselves around the pole in some awesomely sexy twirl of boobs, butt, and legs.

I doubt that's what the turtle is about to do.

But what is he about to do?

Purple starts, he runs forward, jumps, grabs his bo two handed, and swings his body half way around his staff with his legs sticking straight out towards us and his body looking like a flag on a flagpole. He makes it half a turn around his staff and then-

He falls.

Flat on his stomach.

…Dear god, he wasn't.

"Opps heh heh," purple laughs nervously.

HE WAS! He was trying to pull a Matrix and spin around his staff! And he failed so bad! We weren't even close to his feet! We didn't even have to back up to avoid whatever the fuck that was! Even if it did work!

Ok, well I guess there's only one thing to do. All of us take another step closer to purple surrounding him further.

I hear someone yell "Donnie!" behind me, I don't remember much after that.

…..Copying Hollywood! I stopped doing that years ago! It ends in pain, and explosions that never blow up what they are supposed to.

Jesus. I wish my girl was here.

I scratch my arm distractedly on the soft Foot Clan material covering my body before taking out my phone and checking for messages.

I had one.

-How's it going baby?-

Aww shit, I love her so much.

-Good, the maybe children are still no shows.-

-Keep waiting then, you dug that hole, now sit in it-

-yes babe-….-what are you doing?-

-bored?-

-yes-

-LOL-…-I'm at the store right now-

-Y? I already got us groceries-

-Because if this is true than I think that your old boss deserves a present. And I saw the perfect one at Goodwill-

-…what are you planning babe?-

-Something fucking hilarious-

-God I love you-

-You bet your sweet ass you do!-

-My ass is all yours baby-

-Not for a week it's not-

-SHIT-

I feel my body relaxing as I comfortably move into a smaller ball on the edge of the spiral. Just texting her is making my anxiety less. And it's making my next plan seem even stupider, and more important. Even if I'm grounded.

They show up a minute later.

They pop up onto the roof two at a time.

Red and orange.

Blue and purple.

They're whooping and cheering, like I've heard them doing plenty of times before, but I never let myself notice.

Or I just drank a bottle of scotch if I thought to hard.

They need to stay hidden, all that yelling is so… Immature.

I stand up and blue spots me immediately. I'm sure the others would have to, but blue was the only one facing my direction.

I hop down easily, another reason why this spiral would have been perfect for an ambush, it was just close enough to the top of this roof for a simple knee saving landing. The turtles are on the opposite side of the roof with their weapons out before my feet even hit the rooftop. I stand up and say.

"Hey!"

I yelled it a little louder than I meant to and it makes three of the four jump, only blue didn't. Stupid blue.

"Now don't mind me," I continue, "I just need to confirm something real quick."

They only tense up more after that.

Dang, now for the hard part. I can't reach for my backpack, heck I probably wouldn't even be able to get it off my back before the three of them charge me. And there is no way I'm faster than blue, or red, or orange. Ohhhh baby I am so not faster than orange!

Probably should have taken the junk out of my backpack first. Too late now am I right?

"Now now no need to panic," I try again holding out my hands palms facing forward in a disarmed position. "I'm only here to give you guys a message, so I'm going to throw some things towards you. They aren't bombs. This roof's not that big, I don't feel like dying either. Don't come near me! Or the super scary Foot ninja snipers hiding around us will shoot. Wouldn't want that now would we?"

There were no snipers.

The turtles freeze anyways.

I let out a breath. That was piss your pants scary!

"Cool," I smile.

"Just get on with it," red snarls at me.

Heh, he reminds me of tall, long, and angry from Target. But I don't see an eyepatch. Wonder were that went.

I flip my backpack over my shoulder and onto the ground in one expertly awesome looking movement. The trick was fast and made all the turtles tense back up again. But it was also fast enough that no signs of weapons could have been seen or even possibly drawn. Which was the point.

I unzip the pack awkwardly, squatting down low to grab everything I have with two arms.

"I hope you like Target!"

…Once again probably not the smartest thing to say. Thanks to that stores unfortunate name I guess the joke did seem a little uh, threatening.

The orange turtle gives his iconic 'eep,' and side jumps behind red, purple is half way turn around with his shell towards whatever I threw in his direction, I'm actually not sure what flew were.

Red and blue are crouched low, but I can tell from their feet and months of fighting these green fuckers that blue was getting ready to jump back and sideways into purple and red was about to jump back into orange. Probably more just to get away then orange's actual position. That was likely just a bonus for red.

The objects from my bag clatter in an array of different sounds around and in front of the turtles, plastic hitting a roof, metal, paper, cloth, but mostly just plastic. All these sounds hit the turtles ears, but there eyes hadn't registered what they were seeing yet.

And you bet my girlfriend owned ass that I'm smirking.

Purple turns back around, orange steps a bit out from behind red. I watch standing with arms crossed as four pairs of eyes scan the objects before them.

Game controllers, cheap old high school themed DVD's, Harry Potter books, a small remote control helicopter, a hacky sack, old PS2 video games I never play anymore, old Nintendo 64 video games I never have played before, beanie's, baseball caps, earphones, wheels for a skateboard with flames on them, and many more cheap useless things that I associate with punk ass boys.

….

"Leo is that-" Orange finally says stepping a bit closer to the object closest to him. It just so happen to be one of the used remote controllers that I bought.

"Mikey don't you dare," snaps blue. Red apparently agrees because he brings an arm up to block orange from moving any further out from behind him.

"Yeah, think before you act bonehead, you think that the Foot is just gonna hand over a bunch cha' toys?" Red says.

I guess while they were busy with orange no one accounted for purple.

Purple takes three quick steps to the item closet to his feet. He looks curious with his head cocked to one side.

I wait.

Purple picks up a discarded wheel for a skateboard. "Donnie!" Blue gasps in astonishment.

I wait.

"It's ok," smiles purple turning the wheel over in his palm. "There's nothing on here."

"Donnie you don't know that," growls blue, "It could be covered in poison!"

"No it's not," purple simply replies.

I'm not sure why, since some poisons are hard to detect, but I watch as blue actually calms down, his own eyes now alight with cautious curiosity. Obviously this was enough for orange because he side slides out of red's blockade and swipes the remote controller from the rooftop. "Aw dudes I can't believe it! Now Casey can play with us to!"

"Mikey," blue says now keeping a firm eye on me, "give it to Don to look at, and do not touch anything before he looks at it."

Orange grumbles but obediently tosses the remote, now cracked after its connection with the roof, to purple.

Purple looks it over, it's clear.

I wait.

And so it goes. Orange starts racing around the roof, gathering the useless cheap garbage and tossing them to purple. It doesn't take long for red to pick up a few of the toys himself and seemingly half-heartedly toss them over to purple.

But he sure looked really hyped about that hacky sack.

Good choice red.

"There's no snipers are there," red states looking at me. "I don't sense anyone. And I can feel your heart beatin' like a bitch. You're too scared for there to be back-up."

He's got me there.

I smirk, "Nope."

Red angrily tosses the hacky sack at purple who fumbles to catch it, only succeeding because he drops the three other items that orange had just chucked at him.

I watch blue's eye twitch at the noise of the clutter hitting the roof.

"What do you want?" demands blue, "Is this some kind of bribe?"

Bribe? He thinks that a bunch of old video games, controllers, movies, and toys are a bribe!

I watch.

I watch orange practically skip around as he collects the toys. I watch red's mouth form a small greedy smile as purple tosses back the hacky sack deeming it safe. I watch blue's eyes as he tries his best to focus solely on me, but his eyes keep flicking to the title of one of the stupid high school dramas in purple's arms. And I nod in satisfaction as purple gasps in delight after the toy helicopter finally makes its own way into his possession.

"Well," I say clapping my hands together once is finalization, "That's proof enough for me."

Blue and red exchange looks, "What are ya' talking about?" red says, actually making the statement sound like a long drown out question.

I don't pick up my backpack again, I have another. "You guys are teenagers," I say.

This makes even orange stop, "Uh yeah," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

If only he knew, adults are just as bad.

I grab hold of the small Foot symbol sewed into the upper right portion of my uniform. I give it a tug and the thing rips off of my cloths taking a bit of the shirt's material with it. Normally this wouldn't have been possible, but just for this moment earlier today I cut out most of the symbol in case I needed to make a dramatic point.

I throw the symbol to the floor only a couple feet from blue's feet.

"I don't fight children," I growl, I meant it to sound funny, in the end it held an anger that I haven't felt in years. I'm pissed, and the Foot can suck my balls because I-WON'T-EVER-FIGHT-CHILDREN!

With that I turn away and walk towards the side of the building I know will be the easiest to climb down.

"Hey we are not-" I hear red shout behind me. He's interrupted by a calm shush and a gentle but firm "Raph." The voice sounded like purples'.

I leave the four of them like that. Leave them to their toys while adults like me now have to find a new job. Stupid kids. I take out my phone.

-Hey baby-

-How'd it go Liar?-

-lets just say that if I were you Id be packing some bags-

-Oh good, now the present won't go to waste!-

-I hear California is nice all times of year-

-And I hear that I have an aunt in Washington-

-oh good Washington. I hear that place is nice never-

-LOL-

The next day the Shredder gets a package. Never one to back down from anything he opens all mail sent to him directly himself, without anyone looking first at their contents in case of bombs. Not that it matters, he could hear the bombs, smell them if he had to.

The package sent to him this day was a long box with a red ribbon wrapped professionally around it. The box is the flimsy kind one might get from a clothing store after they buy a nice piece of clothing as a gift.

The Shredder shakes the box and sniffs it, but there is no sign of danger. Slowly he unties the ribbon and opens the fragile top of the box. The first thing he notices is a giant white sheet of paper. On the paper, typed, are the words-

To, My Old Fuckass of a Boss

I quite.

Enjoy my new favorite phrase.

From, Liar and his best babe

Curious, since it's not like anything else has happened yet at nine in the morning, the Shredder looks down at the contents of the box. Sitting in the middle, surrounded by thin sheets of sparkly glittery paper all with different shades of greens, rests a perfectly placed shirt. On the shirt was cartoon chibi versions of four little turtles walking in a line across the top of the shirt above were the breasts would be. The little turtles were smiling brightly and one even had its eyes closed and its mouth open in a song. A little squiggly line leading to a musical note flew out of the singing chibi turtle's mouth. And below this marching line of crawling tiny turtles were the words.

'I love turtles.'

Written in different shades of green, with diamonds as a design to represent a turtles shell. Outlining the chibi turtles and the letters was shiny silver glitter.

Shredder's eyes grew wide, then one twitched, next thing anyone knew the Shredder had thrown the box and it's 'present' across the room and into the wall. It made an unsatisfactory amount of no noise at its impact.

The Shredder was pissed.

Who the hell was going to clean all of this glitter off his desk!?