12:45 PM—
You were jolted awake by a snuffling grunt and loud snores. Instead of smacking the alarm clock like every other normal teenage girl, you smacked the offending hobo and sat up.
"Good morning NYC!" you cheered, gazing out at the swamp waters of the Bronx. It was like a Shrek haven, and you were proud to call it home.
You reached over and gave your Lorax Funko Pop a lucky flick. The Lorax was one of your role models— coming second only to Paris Hilton, and of course, your beloved mother.
Sure, now she only existed in the crumpled polaroid tacked up on the wall, but you still loved her.
You took it down and looked at it. Instead of being clichély torn in two, with parents on opposite sides, your picture was torn horizontally, leaving you only their bottom halves to look to for counsel.
Right now your father's stumpy legs were telling you that you hadn't eaten in the last ten hours.
"I'm hungry!" You announced to the stink bug crawling into the open mouth of the snoring hobo. You lost your zeal though as the smell of rotten Taco Bell wafted past your nose.
It reminded you of your lack of good life choices.
After your mom went to heaven, your deadbeat daddy had ding-dong-ditched you on some stuffy dude's lawn. Luckily, you escaped to the hobos and hippies before you became the next Bridgerton star.
Maybe you should have stuck around long enough for him to sign you up for a trust fund.
You took a swig of your two-day-old matcha goat milk tea out of your eco-friendly VSCO flask.
Your pretty e/c orbs swept your living space. A Harry Styles blanket thrown over a ratty old futon in the corner, broken Christmas lights, and some threadbare fnaf plushies decorated the funky area.
It wasn't much, but it was your home.
It was also the only place that wasn't covered in trash. After all, you, Y/N L/N prided yourself on having the cleanest corner of the hobo camp.
You freed yourself from your blanket taco and scurried over to the restrooms. They were the only thing left standing after the Chuck E. Cheese blew up.
You elbowed your way to the front of the line. "Make way for the selfless eco-warrior!" you ignored the cries of the smaller, motherless children.
Once inside, you checked yourself out in the large mirror. Still you. You didn't worry though. One day all of your J. Lo manifesting would pay off.
You hopped over someone's nasty Dr. Eggman body pillow and slipped into your stall.
As soon as you locked the door behind you, you were hit with the nauseating fumes of the fifteen or so mini-candles you found in your last dumpster dive. You inhaled the jumble of essences and grinned. This was your fourth favorite part of the day: getting dressed.
After swimming through your oversized tee shirt to find the neck hole, you pulled up your hot pants and slipped on your sparkly Van-Birkenstock-Heely hybrids.
A brown box laid open on the back of the toilet. Inside was a busted Puka shell necklace and more friendship bracelets than anyone should have. When you put them on, you could pretend you actually had some friends.
You glossed your lips (with Burts Bees, ofc), and pulled your holographic scrunchie tight. After twirling around in the mirror a few times, you shouldered your rustic Fjällräven Kanken mini-bag (you had fished out of the Bronx the week before) and marched out the door.
"I'm ready to start the day!" You tripped quirkily out of the hobo encampment and made a beeline for the community dumping site.
On your way, you passed by a particularly shady corner where a hand-off was going down. "Top of the morning~" you vocalized to its inhabitants.
The gangsters snarled and threw rats at you. Good thing you were the reigning champ of backstreet rugby. You smacked the rats to infinity and beyond with your VSCO flask and heelied away.
Now, to find your sweet ride.
You dragged your baby out of its hiding place between the dumpsters. Dirty, banged up, and the apple of your eye, "Wall-E" might not have been the fastest Segway in New York, but he was solar-powered and took you everywhere without complaint. Most of the time.
You hopped on and turned the engine over. With a frightening lurch, you were flying down the street. You made sure to crush the toes of the gangsters under Wall-E's bio-degradable tires on your way.
Time to go dumpster diving for that Mickey-D's special. They didn't lock their cans like those stuffy places uptown.
While bobbing between the oncoming traffic, you thought about the busy day ahead. The top of your list featured picketing, cat-fighting, and grooving to some sweet, sweet tunes.
Neon signs advertising the pro-mutant rally whizzed past in a seizure-inducing blur. You had spent weeks making them and you were kinda proud that they hadn't been torn down yet.
'Mutant rights' was your new bone to pick with society. You had made it your mission to obtain acceptance for this downtrodden group. That proved a little difficult, seeing as they were all convicted felons. No biggie. You would fight until your last breath if it meant you achieved your goal.
"Get off the road!" some guy shrieked through the window of his car. His girlfriend swerved to avoid hitting you. They hydroplaned into the car next to them, causing a domino effect with the traffic. Skkkrt!
Curses and scent trees were flung at you as you wheeled by. You sped down the newly clear road with a song in your heart.
Twenty minutes later, you rolled up to the event, polishing off your half-rotten quarter pounder. It was a vegan burger so the mold was extra nutrience.
The special guest showing up at the rally was only your favorite band ever: "Twenty-Two Pirates".
You were hyping yourself up for the sweet screamo-ukulele when your pretty (but less pretty than you) best friend, Josie Behgar tapped you on the shoulder.
You both gushed about the weekend ahead of rioting for dissected frog justice. She told you about the effects in the classrooms since you only went to school when you wanted to.
Suddenly, the ear-bleeding whine of an electric ukulele shockwaved through the air. The crowd went wild. Some foamed at the mouth. It was the beginnings of a good riot. The next second Josie was waving goodbye as she was crowd surfed away to be mosh pitted to hospitalization.
You weren't super torn up. She would be lucky to be mentioned again before the story ended.
The crowd began swaying along with the hypnotic beats. You were breaking it down the way Renata Bliss, your free-style dance teacher had taught you when loud dissing from the back totally threw you off your rhythm.
You whipped around, trying to find the source. Then you saw it. Hate speech!
The signs read:
"MUTANTS are PEOPLE"...and PEOPLE have to answer for their CRIMES!"
"Do we actually care what happens to Rupert Swaggart?"
"RETROMUTAGEN is the answer! Let TESTING be done!"
So racist.
You knew these were just the runoffs of the "evil mutant turtle" scandal started by that kid whose parents forgot him in the grocery store.
In reply, you thrust your sign into the air: "CAN THE GROCERY BRAT!" You pumped your other one up: "MUTANT RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS!"
A collective "boo" raised from the offending crowd like a hoard of ghosts.
You dropped the signs in favor of your bigger, metal one. It had a sloppy peace symbol spray painted on it. "We have to live in harmony!" you began to swing it around, swatting down bigots like the flies they were, "Hate is not the answer!"
Some guy wearing a sippy cup hat elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. He began flailing his x-tra thicc straws around to get your attention, "Hey— recyclopath!"
He held his fist in the air. Clenched between his piggy fingers was a bundle of multicolored turtle killers. "Come get cha sum!"
As soon as you made eye contact he turned tail and skedaddled.
You zoomed after him at max power. The crowd cheered for their hero as he led you away.
Between his skipping leg day and Wall-E's ten miles per hour engine, there was a definite winner.
Corner after corner, street after street. He may have been able to stay out of reach for now, but he couldn't outrun karma.
After half a mile, he gave out a howl of pain and crumpled to the ground. The chump barely managed to roll out of the way to avoid being hit.
"Whoah boy," you patted Wall-E's flank and circled back. "We got him now—"
The bigot curled into a ball and wept sweet tears of despair as you did triumphant donuts around him.
"You fool, you son of a peanut—" Right in the middle of your victory speech, Wall-E stalled and threw you off. The straw apologist scrambled to his feet and 23 skidooed. He had made it a solid block away before Wall-E's engine turned over.
The chase was back on!
About two minutes later you had him backed into a corner. Wall-E revved intimidatingly as you threw down his sippy straw hat. "Please! I have a gerbil!" he begged pathetically.
"Looks like he'll have to learn to take his feed from a rubber prosthetic!"
Just when you were about to serve sweet justice, something caught the anti-protester's eye.
An unfinished gutter sitting about wiener dog's length away from you two.
Suddenly, a cool look of defiance flashed through his eyes, like lightning across the Sahara desert in that one Katy Perry music video. You couldn't lie, it was low-key kinda hawt.
The next second, the straws went sailing down into the open mouth of the gutter.
"NAURH!!!" You snapped out of your shallowness. Without a second thought, you abandoned Wall-E and dived in after them.
"For the TURTLEZ!"
You inhaled like Kirby on steroids, managing to catch all the straws in your mouth but one. The renegade straw slipped away and landed in the chunky sewage water.
You stuck a Spy Kids landing and chased after the straw as it made a break for the main sewer line.
~{Like, two blocks away}~
Four wasabi-hued individuals scrambled down the road.
The disguises they wore did jack to hide their true identities, but the show needed to sell toys.
Cutting down main street, they zigzagged and serpentined, evading the stale bread and pastries being flung at them.
"Told you we should have just let that guy get his jelly donut! Ya know, he seemed decent— minus the giant fangs."
"Seriously Leo!?" Raph yelled. "He was mugging that bakery owner."
A piece of rock-like bread ricocheted off Raph's head, missiling Donny in the gut. "I'm leaving a negative review on Yelp!" He wheezed as Mikey dragged him along.
Leo caught a hoagie (that had been launched like a spear), in his mouth.
"Hey! You're welcome for saving you!" Raph shouted over his shoulder at their assailant.
"Go join zé riot down the street you ungroomed neddleteetles!" The bakery owner sniffed and slammed the door shut like the French villager he was.
"Not even a "Bonjour" out of that one." Leo scoffed, "can you believe that?"
"Free food!" Mikey cheered and began gathering up the street pastries.
Raph narrowed his eyes. "Don't eat those."
"We've eaten worse," Leo argued and took a monster chomp out of the hoagie. "Forget it— the lack of mustard on this thing is inhumane." He launched the sandwich into an open dumpster and followed his brothers down the street.
Donny wiped some flour off his face. "Can I go out on a limb and assume that this mission was a bust?"
"This one, the one yesterday, the one last week." Mikey counted off on his fingers. "It seems like nobody appreciates being saved anymore."
Raph sighed tiredly. "Let's just focus on getting home."
"At least we missed rush hour," Leo said, observing the weirdly empty streets. "Lucky us, huh."
Donny scanned the street with his goggles. "Luck has nothing to do with it. There's something strange going on here."
"Yeah, hundreds of people aren't packed like sardines. Add a little oil and spice, and they're ready for the shelf."
Mikey snickered at Leo's joke and laced his fingers behind his head. "Hey, why don't we check out that new arcade uptown? I bet it's not busy— ouch!"
Whatever else Mikey was going to say was lost in a squeak as he suddenly bumped into his eldest brother.
"May hafta put a rain check on that, Mike." Raph seemed to be squinting to see something in the distance.
Something about his tone seemed seriously spooked.
One by one, the masked turtles poked their snoots around Raph's giant shell.
Donny raised a brow, checking his phone. "Remind me again why we're stopping here?"
"Shh...can you hear that?"
After a couple of seconds, a muted pounding sounded from somewhere down the street.
"Was there a tribal convention we weren't told about?" Leo wondered. After a couple seconds, he smirked and pushed Mikey forward. "Oh magic mike, what do your elf eyes see?"
Mikey was begrudgingly hoisted up onto his eldest's brother's shoulders.
About a football kick's away, an ocean of raving people poured down the street. They were blowing kazoos to the tune of "Humble" by Kendrick Lamar.
Mikey hummed along. "Hey, I think I see some picket signs," Mikey zoomed in on the crowd with his finger goggles. "...down with the...mutants!?" he chuckled weakly, "Guys, I think we're in trouble."
The clamor swelled into a thunderous stampede as the crowd caught sight of the turtles. "GREEN MUTIE SCUM AT 10 O'CLOCK!" Someone squalled and violently brandished a pool noodle.
"Oh no, they couldn't possibly be coming for us. Our disguises are flawless." Donny motioned to his lack of pants.
Infuriated, the mob scrambled towards the turtles like zombies to fresh cabbage, overturning cars and busses in their conquest.
"Down with ugly injustice! Shame the hairless Muties!" Raised the cry of the people.
"How can they tell from there!?" Leo grabbed his naked cranium self-consciously.
Flares went up. Some people zoomed along on a giant Homer Simpson parade float. Full-grown men bawled like George Pig as they were swept up by the hoard.
It was a mutant-pounding free-for-all.
Mikey held on for dear life as Raph grabbed Donny and booked it in the other direction. "Leo. Portal now!"
"Portaling!" Leo swung his ōdachi wildly as he joined his brothers in flight. Weak crackles of blue light scattered around his sword. But no portal appeared.
"Leo, would you mind hurrying?" Donny began crawling to avoid a projectile Benedict Cumberbatch cardboard cut out.
"I'm trying, okay!?"
Raph looked to where they left the Turtle Tank, only to see it being dragged away by a tow truck. "Who parked!?"
Leo began flailing his sword around like an uncalibrated Mii fighter. "You were letting Mikey drive, remember?"
"Don't blame me, I only have a bumper car license!" Mikey wailed loudly.
By now the crowd had overrun the bottom of the street and were quickly closing. The ground began to shake with the force, throwing the turtles face-down.
Oof
Raph looked over his shoulder. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but we're going to alright you guys. Just as long as we all stick toge—"
The battle shell puttered noisily as Donny began to fly away.
"Oh no you don't!" Raph grabbed him by the leg, pulling him back. "If we're going down, you're going down with us!"
"Tempting, but no."
"You cowærd!" Leo jeered.
Suddenly, the thunderous stomping of feet came to a stand still.
"What is this!?" Some geezer with a red "X" slapped across his face interpretively danced out of the anti-mutant riot. "Finally, a WORTHY opponent!" He did the Renegade before dropping into an intimidating split.
The street grew dead quiet as a new challenger stepped up to the plate.
Off-key screamo-ukulele blasted through the street, cracking the windows.
The pro-mutant rally.
Both sides began to smear their faces with gutter mud and cried for battle to be done.
"Raph? What do we do!?" Mikey quickly crawled backwards as the chanting began to grow. "Ohmigosh— they're everywhere!"
"Look! Helpless Mutants in need of defense!" Some savior with a swamp weave hollered. He sign twirled a giant neon arrow towards Mikey.
"Oh, this is NOT good." Donny pulled back, bumping into Raph. "Do you know what happens when two opposing forces of equal velocity and force, slam into each other!?"
Leo looked grim, "People get canned."
"Like sardines," Mikey gulped.
"We need to get out of here. NOW." Raph eyed the taillights of the Turtle Tank disappearing behind a building. "When I say go, we make a break for the Tank."
"Ready?"
Leo sheathed his ōdachi, while Donny posed like Usain Bolt.
"Set?"
Mikey puffed out his chest, taking a deep breath.
"G—"
A horrible cry raised from the two sides, deafening everyone in a ten-mile radius as the protesters rhino charged through Main Street.
Before anyone had a chance to react, the turtles were crowd surfed and bumped along until they all tumbled down a nearby manhole.
Leo straightened his newly acquired sombrero. "That wasn't plot convenient at all."
"Hey— our fits!" Mikey cried, searching for his stolen Yeezys, "That was my best Kesha wig too!"
The turtles listened for the thunderous footsteps above them to start fading.
"They're not moving," Donny remarked.
"Guess that means we have to." Leo shivered at the sight of the dark, unfamiliar tunnel.
~{1 hour later}~
Everyone shuffled along á la Gorillaz.
"Where are we?" Mikey complained. "My feet are really starting to feel the lack of Yeezy."
"According to my GPS...we're lost," observed the genius.
Leo groaned like a zombie.
"Use your words." Raph snapped.
Leo sighed and mumbled, "This would be a lot easier if we could just go topside."
"You kidding? We're not going back up there for a while!" Raph blinked, a little taken aback by his own words.
A quiet fell over the group. No one had the stamina to argue a point that had been beat into them.
After a bit, Mikey huffed and flopped on the ground. "Leave me," he groaned, utterly dead inside.
Raph scooped up Mikey and tossed him onto his back.
Donny trailed behind the others, preoccupied with his gauntlet. His Vocaloid self-insert OC wasn't going to post itself.
Water drip-dropped, echoing eerily through the sewer tunnels. The sound would have been less maddening if Leo would have stopped trying to beatbox to it.
Mid-upload, an alarm went off on Donny's the gauntlet. Donny tried to laugh louder than the brony music blaring from it.
"Uh Donny, there something you wanna share?" Raph questioned warily.
"Code Yellow. We haven't had one of these in forever." Donny began key-board smashing, trying to silence the alarm, "Someone must have set off the outside lair defenses."
"What do you mean 'someone'?" Raph demanded, like it was Donny's fault.
Having slept off his broken will to live, Mikey perked up. "Hey, do you hear that?"
"u-nye-way-loh-nee-way... loo... loo..."
Something was drawing closer to them.
Mikey peered down the tunnel. He was silent for a couple seconds before jumping down and taking off in the direction of the demonic trilling.
A few seconds later he reappeared, carrying an abused-looking Furby.
A red bubble of energy surrounded its shriveled, egg-shaped body, making it impossible to touch it. "Master Donny doo! Doo! Master Donny, I don't feel so g-g-good!" The Furby squawked with its dying breath. It's soulless eyes began to fall closed.
"I'm so— d-d-doo da...cold."
Mikey looked horrified.
"Ah yes, I see you found one of the lair defenses." Donny coldly observed. "We're almost home."
The turtles exchanged shifty glances before proceeding forward with caution. Soon, they came across an intersection. The dim lighting revealed a terrifying sight.
The tunnel floor was littered with hundreds of decrepit Furbies. Red energy bubbles encased each one in a personal battery-draining hell.
The camera did a super close-up, capturing the turtles from the anime insane angle.
"Oo-Tah-Toh-Toh— the purple god!" Some of the furbies tried to bow, but their joints broke and they just ate dirt.
Mikey poked at one with his foot until it screeched and bit him.
While Raph was trying to pry the Furby off of Mikey's toe, Donny decided to get some answers. "What did this to you?"
"Ooolalala— intrudalala— intruder!"
"What sort of intruder?" Donny squinted at the mass of slimy, sewer-matted fur that shuffled towards him.
"Intruder— beboop INVADER!" Some of the furbies began flapping their stubby wings furiously, flinging yellow sewer goop everywhere.
Donny made an Elvis lip curl in disgust and backed up a pace or two.
A hose attachment to his battle shell quickly power washed them away.
"These things look mystic," Leo poked the bubble, "so we're probably dealing with a mutant."
"Or Yokai," Raph added.
"This isn't Draxum's style, so that strikes him off the list." Using his tech-Bo as a broom, Donny shoved the lifeless Furby aside to clear a path to a panel on the wall. "Big Mama too."
Donny grabbed an unbubbled Furby and snapped a 3-way extension cord into place, connecting the Furby and his tech gauntlet to the panel on the wall.
Screens popped up, showing the security feed from the Furby's POV. It wasn't much though since the Furby was nearsighted and had a banana peel for a weave.
"Okay..." Raph looked back over to the rest of the gathering. "When Donny is done messing around, he can join the problem-solving group."
"I'm making the hundred-plus IQ move of finding out WHO our intruder is, thank you very much."
Mikey blinked innocently, sipping on a Capri-Sun he found on the sewer floor "What if it's Santa?"
"Santa or not, if it's a fight this guy wants, then it's a fight he'll get." Raph grinned, pounding his fists together. His tonfa glowed a bright, mystic red. "Alright team, get ready to—"
Donny held up a hand, still bent over his gauntlet. "Hold on. I just need the stats!"
"D, stop." Leo groaned, reaching for his ōdachi, "This is getting sad."
Mikey patted Donny's shoulder sympathetically, "There there. You did your best. Now let's go kick some butt!" He whipped out his kusari-fundo and ginned.
"But I can still—"
Raph interrupted him. "Leo, you and Mikey take the inside. Donny and I will scout around out here."
"Espionage? Sweet! I'll get the exploding bath bombs!" Mikey cheered, shoving past Leo.
"No fair, I called dibs last time!" Leo grabbed onto Mikey's shell, leapfrogging over him. The two tumbled over each other in their race to reach the hidden entrance to the lair first.
"Quiet!" Raph bellowed after them, "don't alert the intruder!"
~~~
For the next ten minutes or so, Donny and Raph made their way along the length of the tunnel.
"Oo-da—doo! Down with the big red brute!"
Raph growled and punted some insane furbies that were trying to munch on his toes. "Ouch! Hey, how come they keep attacking me!?"
"The furbies are programmed recognize my particular head-shape." Donny sniffed. "Since it is the largest, handsomest, and most akin to a skyscraper— it made for easy recognition."
"T e l l them to stop then." Raph demanded.
"Impossible. Their programming is rooted in rudimentary "attack" and "report" functions."
Raph was indignant, "All this time, and you never thought to upgrade the defenses? These things coulda chewed out the sewage workers."
"That's the idea," Donny coughed. "Seeing as we're usually looking for trouble, and not vice versa, I decided to employ my talents elsewhere. Turtle Tanks don't just build themselves, you know."
Donny stopped suddenly, noticing a fresh set of muddy footprints traveled in the direction opposite them. "Oh, what's this?" Donny flipped his goggles down and gave them a once-over.
"That's a lotta mystic. Looks like we just missed our "guest"," he muttered quietly and crouched to get a better look.
Raph shivered at a loud creaking noise coming from the wall of darkness in front of them.
"Did you hear that?"
The creak echoed around the shady tunnel for a couple seconds before dying away. "Hehehe~"
"Oh my god...that sounded just like Cardi B." Donny scrambled to his feet.
"She could be hiding. Waiting to strike."
Faced with that reality, the brothers picked up their proverbial skirts and fled to the better-lit part of the tunnel.
During their valiant retreat, Donny's gauntlet buzzed with an incoming call.
A picture of Sanic with Doctor Eggman's body popped up on the screen, showing the caller tag: "Nuisance #1".
Donny hurried to answer. "Leo, we found prints leading back to the lair. Be on high alert. Did you find anything?"
"Yeah," the voice crackled gravely, "I took the liberty of looking in your closet. DUDE. Get your Sharpie addiction under control."
"LEO!" Donny growled.
It was true, he was a fiend for that extra thiccc industrial marker.
"Cool your jets mi hermano, I'm just razz'in ya a little," Leo tried to sound offended, but Donny could still hear the laugh in his voice.
"Anywhoodles, just checking in to let ya know that the lair is totally cle—"
Just then, the line clichély cut out.
"Leo? Leo, are you there?" After a couple seconds of silence, Donny rolled his eyes. "Hilarious. They should give you a Grammy. Now cut it out."
Donny could sense Raph hovering at his elbow. "Leo, stop goof'in around!"
Silence.
Donny and Raph's eyes met.
"...You don't think?"
Immediately, they picked up the pace.
"Someone is in there. I should have just gone in too," Raph muttered.
"Impossible!" Donny snapped, "the lair's internal defense system would have kicked in."
"Like this one?" Raph argued, dodging a collective of Furby husks. "Look Don, so far, your tech has done diddly-squat to stop this guy."
It was kinda true tho.
~~~
It took a couple minutes, but the two eventually found themselves back in the intersection. Dust and smoke billowed out of a gaping hole blasted in the wall, revealing the inside of the lair.
"How did we NOT hear that!?"
Donny's question went unanswered as Raph pushed past him into the lair. A couple of seconds later, he disappeared into the cloud of dust from the fallen debris.
"Oh yes. Let's split up! Brilliant!" Donny whipped out his tech-Bo and took a running start into the lair as well.
"Ooda-lie— demise is nigh!" A mechanical voice droned depressingly.
Donny screeched and tripped over something, landing snoot-first on the slimy floor.
"Uny a de doo— O' dauntless and astute master Donatello!"
"Wut?"
Donny lifted his leg to see an elder, snot-green Furby. It had a Y-shaped dent in it's head and a missing eye. Donny winced, inspecting the bottom of his three-pronged flipper for the other eyeball.
Yup. There is was.
"Most tremendously modest kahuna, I have braved the depths of the bogs of the Great Stank, to warn you of this treacherous intruder!" Squawked the elder furby. "There are more to her lies than webs and flies."
Donny righted himself, trying to shake the eyeball off.
"Cool story, bro. But right now I have to get in there and prove to my stupid brothers that— I m e a n, hunt down that insidious vagabond who shrecked your people..."
The snot-green furby stared up at Donny, wisdom twinkling in its crusty eye. "Master Donatello, heed my words. This curse of inferiority you feel will plague you for the rest of your days, unless you learn to break the confides of—" The furby looked uncertainly upwards, "the narrative"
Donny got to his feet, his face like stone.
He had stopped listening after the "I" word.
"Yes, it's all so clear to me. I know what I must do now..." He flipped his goggles down and stared through the hole in the wall.
A glowing mass of mystic energy outlined his target through the dust cloud.
"It's time to commit war crimes!"
~{Literally, a minute beforehand}~
Raph stopped short, fanning away the dust. It was difficult to get his bearings in the mess, but he knew he had to be in the common area.
"Leo, Mikey, are ya—" Raph felt a sudden tug on his arm as he was yanked behind the couch by his blue-clad brother.
"Shh..." Leo held a finger up to his beak and motioned to the far side of the room.
They both watched as the silhouette of the youngest turtle tumbled head-first into a nearby trash can.
"Mike and I worked out an attack." Leo whispered, "We can corner this guy if we jump him right now."
"Got it." Raph choked up on his tonfa and squinted in an attempt to make out the intruder. "On three," he whispered. "One, two..." Raph raised a hand, signaling his brothers to get ready.
Just then, the dust settled.
"...Huh?" Raph's arm slowly lowered as he caught full sight of the intruder.
You
Undeterred by the wall that you just exploded through, you tramped through the living room, raw sewage crowning your weave.
"Groovetastic!" you spun around, flabbergasted by the neon-lit floors towering above you. "This is just like the Hype House!" Rats scuttled around your feet, free from their sewer prison.
Raph's jaw dropped. "It's— it's a girl," he stammered.
Leo's eyes slid to one side, "So what? Look man, we gotta go now before Mikey goes space cadet on us. You know how hard it is for him to resist trash fumes."
Raph began to sweat and clam up like Tremendous Repeat after Supa Hot Fiya ended his whole career.
What could he do? You were the hottest street taco to ever flop into the NYC sewers.
~~~
Somewhere just beyond the Swiss cheesed wall stood Donny.
Dust billowed around him as he took a boss stance and clicked a button on his gauntlet. The engine in his battle shell blazed to life, emitting a purple glow in the haze.
"I'll show them, inferiority."
Taking a running leap, Donny shuttled towards you at furious speeds. This would be his moment to finally prove that his tech was superior!
But oh, how wrong he was.
Unnoticed by you, your scrunchie began to glow an ominous red, matching the electric glow around Donny's equipment.
Not being a love interest (yet), Donny's lack of plot armor was astounding.
First, came the monkey wrench.
The red energy spiked into a bubble around the battle shell, making its engines smoke and fizz out.
Then, the OOC choice.
Donny did absolutely nothing as his haywire battle shell flung him into the wall.
You strutted past Donny's lower half. It was just sorta...hanging out of the hole in the drywall.
"Hello! Addison Rae? Lil' Huddy?" You heroically flicked the straw into a trash can Mikey was hiding in. It whacked him in the face upon its descent. "Oof!"
You ignored the pained cry you heard and pulled out your phone.
True to form of being a selfless environmentalist, you began to record yourself performing the good deed.
"Salutations and greets my terrific Turtle-Terra-tibblets!" You greeted your reflection on the screen with a beaming smile. "Day nine-hundred and fifty-three of Plastic Patrol!"
You dabbed violently, flipping your weave towards the trash can.
Mikey's eyes widened as he caught sight of your face. Lights glowed around you as you laughed like someone in a medical commercial when the fatal side effects were being read.
"Whoah...now that's a mega boss babe." Mikey timidly lifted the can lid, peering at you with a dreamy look in his eye.
You could throw trash on him any day.
"And now, for a selfie!"
You flamingo'd, crouched, and duck-faced. The holy trinity.
"Wow..." Leo's eyes widened. He suddenly felt short of breath. It was like being asthmatic, but in a hot way. "She's really gud."
You took a few more pictures before picking back up with your vlog.
"This has been {Insert Online Persona}, signing off! Don't forget to always follow your feelings and SUBSCRIBE!" You clicked the red button at the bottom of the screen, ending the recording.
Raph nervously eyed the phone in your hand and began to fidget in his hiding spot.
He had to think of something, fast.
Silently, he poked his head above the cushions and took note of everyone's positions around the room.
Leo was to his right, bobbing his head like an idiot to the beat of your camera shutters.
Mikey was to his left, kickin' it like Oscar the Grouch.
Donny was nowhere to be seen, so Raph conveniently forgot about him.
He could work with this. He just needed ten chickens and a bucket of rubber cement...
Of course, right then, Mikey decided to be special.
One bow-leg thrust upwards, the smol one began to struggle out of the trashcan. Raph looked over and squeaked as the trashcan teetered dangerously.
The turtle child wore a smug grin for exactly three-and-a-half seconds. Then the trashcan tipped backward and he disappeared from view.
Raph turned around and calmly had a heart attack.
You continued to pose, the funky tunes blaring from your phone making you deaf to the racket. "Just a few more— and, score! That's a wrap."
Leo was sorta into it.
Barely recovering, Raph clutched his heart and forced himself to peak back over the couch.
You...this mesmerizing stranger with L'Oréal hair who blew a hole in their lair and model-strutted into their lives. You were going to be an issue.
You were too quirky to trust, too knowledgeable to let go, and too cute to beat up.
The boulder was conflicted.
He just needed to focus on calming his nerves and think through his options. It wasn't impossible, just a minor set-back. But why did you make him feel so unsure of himself?
Raph shook his head.
He was the leader. He could still get them all out of this giant mess—
Wait. Where was Donny?
"Hardy har har— SWEET JUSTICE!"
Oh no.
Raph watched in horror as his third favorite brother plummeted from above.
Donny struck a pose, channeling his inner Bully Maguire. "I'm gunna put some DIRT in your eye." Donny heckled in maniacal glee at the terror in your eyes.
Alas, the purple-masked turtle was back for round two, and you were in his crosshairs.
You shook like a leaf and made the Wii crashing noise in panic.
"THIS IS MY PERFECT VICTORY!! That's right— I WIN!" The rest of Donny's stolen quote was lost in the sound of the tech-Bo rockets firing up.
"Sksksksksk—" you screamed and wiggled like a worm on the hot pavement.
You were too young to have plastic surgery.
Seconds before Donny could scuff your sculpted cheekbones, a volt of red energy sonic boomed from your scrunchy to the tech-Bo.
Raph sprung up from his hiding spot. The red energy glow reflected in his eyes as it crossed the room.
"Donny— no!"
"DONNY YES!"
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