When Shredder gets you: Michaelangelo

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"Mikey!," you yelled as Mikey gripped your waist, not letting go. "Mikey, please! I'm just going out with (best friend's name) to a Broadway show! I'll be fine," you continued, trying to pry him off of you. "But (Y/n)! Don't leave me allllooooone! And you could get hurt by....I don't know...Shredder or something!," he yelped. You giggled as you finally got him to let go. He stood up in front of you and gave you a puppy dog face. "Mikester, (best friend's name) only got two tickets, and I can't just blow her off. And what are the odds that Shredder is going to be at a Broadway show?," you asked sarcastically. He counted on his fingers for a second, then looked at you. "Like 8 and a half out of 10, dudette!," he yelped, flaring his arms. You giggled and pecked his lips. "I'll be fine," you said, then you skipped out of the lair, leaving Mikey sad and worried about you.

When the show finished, your friend waved goodbye to you and headed home. You did the same, holding onto a signed playbill happily, excited to show Mikey. You skipped down an alleyway when suddenly, you felt a tug on your hair. You were pulled against a wall, then pinned to it by a Foot soldier! "Ah!," you screamed, "Get off me you creep!" He chuckled. Then, Shredder emerged from a dark corner, smirking at you. "Do it," he said dryly. Suddenly, green gas was blown into your face. You didn't know what it was or where it was coming from, but it smelled awful. Your last thought before falling asleep from the awful gas was, "Mikey was right." You slumped forward, your entire body limp. The Foot guy slung you over his shoulder and started walking, Shredder following him, an evil smile on his face.

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