Just Another Saturday
It was dark. It was dank. A constant dripping of rainwater that had flown through the gutters could be heard dribbling through roadside grates onto the floor. The musty smell of sewage permeated the air, disgusting anyone who dared to venture too close to the high-security entrance of the lair.
But to Mikey, nothing was new. Same annoying trickle of water, same smells-like-home stench, same shadowy light that enveloped every room in the sewer. It was home; the only home he ever knew, and the only home he hoped to ever know.
The only thing different, however, was the fact that he was losing to Ice Cream Kitty in a rousing game of Mazes and Mutants. And he was losing bad.
"No fair!" Mikey yelped as Ice Cream Kitty rolled a 6. "You're only winning because I lent you my +1 Ring of Awesomeness!"
Ice Cream Kitty let out a self-satisfied mrow. She seemed to be saying "Haters gonna hate."
Mikey gave her a playfully annoyed look before reading off her card. Ice Cream Kitty would've liked read it herself, but, obviously, being a cat, she couldn't.
"Your army is ambushed by some powerful wise-cracking fairies, but because of your superior cavalry, you beat them easily. Plus 1 The Staff of Victory." Mikey's eyes widened. The Staff of Victory? He jumped right off the kitchen table, landing easily in a double-backflip. "Dude-" He began, before Ice Cream Kitty shot him a murderous look. "I mean dudette, which, by the way, sounds lame, you got The Staff of Victory? That grants you automatic passage through the Forest of Ferocious Flowers! You won the game, Kitty! Or should I say," Mikey said, pointing to Ice Cream Kitty's feral, homemade game piece, a werecat made of ice cream. "Kitty-zilla." He reached to give his well-loved pet an enormous hug.
As Ice Cream Kitty squirmed to rid herself from the heat of Mikey's arms (after, of course, she returned the hug), Mikey slyly wriggled his precious +1 Ring of Awesomeness off of her paw. He gave it a quick kiss. After losing it once after meeting Sir Malachi, he sure wasn't going to lose it again.
Ice Cream Kitty gave him an impatient thwap with one of her now-melting paws. Drops of mutagen-laced Neapolitan ice cream splattered onto his arm and onto the table. Quick as a whip, Mikey bent forward to lick the ice cream and Ice Cream Kitty's nose. He gave her head a pat saying, "I guess you wanna go back into the freezer, dontcha, girl?" He wrinkled his nose as parts of her shoulders started dribbling down her back and pooled into his arms.
Mikey gave a sigh as he sauntered to the refrigerator, and gently tossed Ice Cream Kitty in. Kitty purred happily, relishing in the frigid air of the freezer. He stared at her happily for few minutes, reveling in her joyous wiggling around in the freezer.
"See ya later, Kitty," Mikey sighed as he lightly slammed the freezer door shut, evoking a loud meow from the ice cream-mutated cat.
Mikey leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering what else to do. The rest of his rainy Saturday afternoon was still left, and he had no one to hang out with. Leo was training with sensei, Donnie was probably doing something boringly scientific in his lab and couldn't be bothered, and Raph was on Kraang patrol with Casey topside. His comic book collection had been shelved and reorganized (the only thing he actually kept organized) yesterday, as was his hoard of action figures, and he didn't have the heart to mess them up again, just to look for Age of the Sludge Yetis #3 or "The Incredible Hulky Big Green Strong Man".
Bored, he ambled to the living room, whipping out his nunchucks and twirling them nonchalantly. He flopped onto the stone-cold bench system they used as a couch, and flicked on the TV, letting his 'chucks fall to the floor. As he surfed through the channels, he was dismayed at what he saw. Every single channel was either educational or news. There was nothing more he liked than chilling out by the TV, watching mind-rotting (Raph's words, not his), comical shows that were so old and so bad nobody would watch them except him.
He groaned, depressed and marched to the TV set. Mikey gave the TV a few hard raps with his fists, in vain hope to magically make the channels more enjoyable, but to no avail.
"Stupid-thing," He cried, beginning to kick the set. "Work!" His idea of the TV "working", was it was showing him what he wanted, when he wanted it. Mikey fell to his knees and banged his head against the screen. "Why won't you work?" He moaned.
As if by magic, the TV instantly started playing Happy Dangerous Sad Land with Mister Seddie.
Mikey gave a gasp. "Maybe I do have magical powers!" He cried as he raced to the kitchen to make an emergency bag of "Mighty Midge's Ghost Pepper Nacho Cheese with Bacon Bits" popcorn and settled in to watch his show.
"Now this is what I'm talking about!" Mikey exclaimed as Mister Seddie started shooting Smile Lasers at Mister Meanie. "Go Mister Seddie! Go Mister Seddie!" he cheered, as his nacho-cheese covered fingers punched the air.
"Mikey!" Donnie cried, from the room over. "Would you keep it down? I'm trying to create a memory-inducing serum and your obnoxious cheering isn't helping!"
"Sure, okay, D," Mikey called back. He had long since learned that arguing with Donatello when he used that tone of voice was pointless. "I'll um-just...cheer quietly next time?"
"How about not cheering at all?" Donnie yelled back, slamming the door to his lab so hard, Mikey could hear the hinges rattle.
"Well, somebody's in a bad mood," Mikey whispered to himself before averting his eyes to the screen. He watched eagerly as Mister Meanie retaliated with blasts from his own laser gun, and fired out a multitude of Belittling Bullets at Mister Seddie.
"Mister Seddie!" Mikey cried, covering his eyes. He couldn't bear to see Mister Seddie get hurt. To his relief (because he was peeking through his fingers), Mister Seddie put up his Laugh Shield and the Belittling Bullets ricocheted off the semi-impenetrable barrier.
After many minutes of Mister Seddie standing there, smiling, encased with his Laugh Shield, Mikey began to notice that after the prolonged period of time of being pummeled with bullets, the Laugh Shield was beginning to wear thin. To Mikey and Mister Seddie's dismay, a Belittling Bullet made it through the shield, and a string of maliciously happy howls were emitted from Mister Meanie. But, just before the bullet made contact with Mister Seddie's body, the television screen turned black.
"Nooo!" Mikey wailed as "Breaking News" appeared on the screen. "Why!" He flopped to the floor in utter dismay, wondering what kind of "Breaking News" was so important that it had to interrupt Happy Dangerous Sad Land with Mister Seddie.
"This is Carlos Chiang O'Brien Gambe from Channel 6 News reporting in that the street gang, the Purple Dragons have been resurfacing with utter confidence." said the reporter, as he constantly patted his hair.
Mikey sighed, exasperated. That was breaking news? The Purple Dragons were always rampaging through New York.
"Not only are the become more brazen," Mr. Gambe continued. "These mere, uneducated, violent men are becoming increasing more powerful. Check out these clips of the Purple Dragons utterly annihilating the 4th degree police force of New York."
Mikey's eyes lit up with interest as clips were shown of a small group of Purple Dragon gang members shooting at the police with...were those lasers guns? Mikey peered closer at the weapons of the gang. They looked old, but powerful, and violet streaks of light were being emitted from them, aimed for the police force, who in turn, shot back with their own weapons. Mikey's eyes crinkled in confusion. The only laser guns he had seen in his lifetime belonged to the Kraang, and the ones belonging to the Purple Dragons definitely didn't look like the Kraang's. They were huge, and it took two members to hold up just one. Etched on the sides of the gun were bright, purple colored dragons, and the head was studded with gaudy amethysts and what looked like fool's gold.
But that wasn't what struck Mikey as strange. It was the eyes of the gang members. Because all the Purple Dragons were strictly human, their eyes were a plethora of colors; which included blue, green, brown, and hazel. But the eyes of these Purple Dragons were glowing violet. Unnaturally violet. Before he could look more into it, the screen was flooded with Mr. Gambe's face.
"Hello, is this thing on?" Mr. Gambe asked, tapping on the screen.
Someone in the background said, "Carlos, we're rolling."
"Oh!" Mr. Gambe said, his face turning a very unbecoming shade of red. He cleared his throat nervously as Mikey let out a chuckle. "And we're back at Channel 6 News, shocked and quite worried. Will anyone be able to stop the Purple Dragons? Is New York getting closer to Doomsday than we thought? Will it be death by Dragons? And will my hair look any better than the perfection it is now? Find out tomorrow at 2 AM on Channel 6 News!"
Mikey's eyes widened. Why would anybody even think of waking up at 2 in the morning just to watch Channel 6 News, especially when New York would soon have their answer? He had no idea, but he knew what he had to do.
"You think we should take on the Purple Dragons tonight?" Leo asked, dubiously staring at Mikey after he had explained what he had just seen on TV. "Have you completely lost your shell?"
"No, for your in-for-mation, I have not," Mikey retorted, crossing his arms stubbornly as he hopped onto the kitchen counter. "I mean, come on, think about it, it's the Purple Dragons. We've taken them on lots of times."
"Yeah, give him a break, Leo," Raph smirked as he began to crack his knuckles, and Mikey knew he was itching for a fight. "He's right. Taking on the Purple Dragons will be easier than taking on Mikey."
"Thanks bro!" Mikey grinned. Suddenly, the full meaning behind Raphael's support and hidden insult dawned on him. "Hey!" he cried as he pounced on Raph, who batted him away as he slammed into the sink. Mikey rubbed his head. "That hurt!"
"Well," Raph smirked as he stole Mikey's seat off the counter. "It's a good thing you have a thick skull."
"I think Leo's right," Donnie said, as he sauntered into the kitchen, his eyes glued to his laptop. "If what Mikey said about the Purple Dragons' eyes are true, then we're in trouble."
"How so?" Leo asked, purposely avoiding Mikey's grumpy stare from the floor.
"Well," Donnie began, plopping his laptop onto the kitchen table as all four Turtles rushed to see what was on the screen. "I've been reading up on the Purple Dragons' origins, and it turns out that the name 'Purple Dragon' wasn't always associated with a street gang." He began to pace, and Mikey could see the gears turning in Donnie's head. "They were originally an inferior group of ninjas, way back, in like 220 B.C. They were so inauspicious in being ninjas, that the clan eventually broke up an parted ways. Apparently, after all these years, one of the descendants of the original Purple Dragons, Akuma no Amacha-"
"Devil's Plaything?" Mikey asked slowly, his Japanese a little rusty. Raph and Leo's eyes widened as they processed the name.
Donnie shot him a look. "Yes, now pay attention." He glanced quickly at the computer screen, as if to refresh his memory. "Anyways, Akuma no Amacha assembled a group of hooligans to become the next Purple Dragons, even though they aren't nearly as skilled enough to become a ninja, however bad. Those are the Purple Dragons we know now, the gang. Akuma also does all the Purple Dragon tattoos. As you all know, to fully become a Purple Dragon, you must have a, well, how unoriginal it may be, 'purple dragon' tattooed onto one of your biceps. True Dragons get two dragon tattoos, one on each arm. But, Akuma uses a special ink, an ink that has the power to summon the real Purple Dragon."
Mikey was sure his jaw dropped open then. The real Purple Dragon? He didn't know such a thing existed.
"Wait-how does that work?" Raph asked angrily, hating to be confused.
"I'm not exactly sure," Donnie said, rubbing his head as if he were in pain. "I'm guessing they do some kind of chant and the tattoo peels off, forming the incarnation of the Purple Dragon?"
"That's all well and good, but how does it explain the gang members' violet eyes?" Leo questioned impatiently.
"I was getting to that," Donnie replied. "The Purple Dragon by itself is harmless, and needs other people to channel its powers. I'm assuming it has possessed the gang members to do its bidding."
"And the weapons?" Mikey asked, still confused.
Donnie gave a shrug. "The dragon's powers must not be limited to just mind control, but I guess it can create things too."
"Whoa," Mikey whispered, awed. "So, Donnie, how can we stop it? There's gotta be a way to make it stop terrorizing the people of the Big Apple."
"Hmm..." Donnie muttered. "I don't know if there is way, but I'll look into it." He turned back around to his lab and gave a backwards wave. "I'll get back to you guys tomorrow."
Raph gave an enormous yawn and said, "Man, I'm beat. I'm gonna go see if I can get some shut-eye."
Mikey stared at Raph incredulously. "Dude, it's only 7:30. How can you sleep now?"
Raph gave him a look and gritted his teeth. "Well excuse me Mister-I-Sat-Home-And-Did-Nothing-All-Day, I spent 6 hours working my shell off on Kraang patrol with Casey!" He turned back around and stomped up the stairs to his room.
"And I'd better go talk to Master Splinter to see if he even thinks the whole endeavor is a good idea." Leo said, turning in the direction of the dojo. He turned back around and said to Mikey, "You'd probably better get some sleep too, Mikey. It sounds like we've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
"Yeah, I will," Mikey replied, faking a small yawn and heading in the general direction of the stairs.
As soon as heard Leo's voice conversing with Master Splinter, Mikey whipped out his T-phone, dialed (212) DA-FLVR, raced to the living room, dived onto the couch, and flicked on the TV. As soon as the person on the other line picked up, Mikey promptly said,
"Hello, Antonio's Pizza-Rama? I'd like to order an extra large, extra cheesy, sausage, jelly beans, hot sauce, and anchovies pizza. And make it fast."