Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles vs. Amset-Ra

1. The Egyptian Job

New York City: home to over seven million sentient human beings that have no idea that they are being protected from world-changing evil by a band of four mutant turtles. As if that weren't unbelievable enough, these four humanoid turtles cruise the streets in an old subway car modified by their in-house brainiac. It's called the Shellraiser. The subway car, not the brainiac.

The brainiac is Donatello. "This is the perfect time to test this," he called from the back of the Shellraiser. He indicated a box with an array of dials and knobs on the left two-thirds, the right was dominated by a circular sub-woofer.

"What is it?" asked Michelangelo, the runt of the litter. Yes, all of the turtles are named after famous artists. Mikey studied the device for a moment, applying his own peculiar brand of logic to solving the question he proposed. He noted the speaker. He noted the dials. He put two and two together, and (as usual) failed to get four. "Will it cook pizza by sound waves?"

Donnie let that sink in. "No, shell-brain. It's a scanner to monitor the police band. That way, we can easily respond to trouble."

They wouldn't have long to wait before the device chirped to life and sent them off to prevent the enslavement of every human on earth by an evil dormant for centuries.

* * *

The most famous museum in New York City is, of course, The Met. But it isn't the only museum that the city has to offer. There are many small, specialty museums that curate collections far more specific than The Met.

On the island of Manhattan, once such museum is the Hale Gallery. It sits quietly near Central Park, amid coffee shops and boutiques. It boasts a collection from the seat of civilization: Babylonian treasures, Sumerian tablets, and other relics of the Ancient Near East. The most popular attraction is an Egyptian Wing, flanked by great statues of Anubis and Horus.

At the center of this wing is an aqua-colored diamond larger even than the Smithsonian's Hope Diamond, and with a much longer and more convoluted history. The owner of the Hale Gallery, Archibald Q. Hale, recovered it on one of his many archeological digs. Hale is an Egyptologist on the staff of NYU. He also has a working knowledge of Assyria and Babylonia, hence the gallery's focus on the Ancient Near East rather than solely on Egypt.

Above the priceless gem is a skylight. It was a poor choice, admittedly, to situate a point of ingress so near to something so valuable. Professor Hale's specialty is Egyptology, not security. He didn't think anyone would actually be crazy enough to penetrate the gallery through the skylight.

Never, ever underestimate the allure of wealth.

It was child's play to cut the alarm wires. The beefy burglar known as Earl then only had to lift the pane of glass straight over his head. The greasy, black-haired bandit known as Slick then slid underneath like a predatory snake, lowering himself by rope down to the gallery below.

They had prepared for this job well enough to know that there were no laser beams of any kind, no pressure plates in the floor, nothing like that. Despite the expensive holdings in the gallery, it appeared not to have the cash flow needed to invest in such extravagances.

Therefore, Slick was able to alight easily on the mirrored obsidian floor, secure in the knowledge that no one was wiser to his presence. Yet, as he gains his footing, he suddenly finds himself spreadeagled on the ground, jaw pressed tightly to floor, wind escaping his lungs in a gasp. Something large and heavy landed right on top of him.

"Slick?" Earl calls out. "You there?"

A groan is all the reply that Earl gets. "Slick!"Earl exclaims, scrambling to his feet, realizing that he nearly crushed his partner.