Author's Note:
This is a rewrite of the 2014 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie with OC inserts. I did this mostly for myself, so if you don't want to read it, that's fine. I realize it's not the most creative thing to do, rewriting a pre-existing movie, but it still took time. An entire year in fact. And it's similar to using a base to draw or filling in a colouring book. So please don't leave any comments saying how this is lazy or anything. It was strictly for fun. Thank you.
...
The four turtles opened the large, round, metal door that led into their home. "Is he here?" Raph asked quietly as they all looked around cautiously.
"I don't see him. Donnie?" Leo said.
"My thermal scans indicate there's a 54 percent variable that there's a 61 percent chance that he's not he-" Donnie answered before being bumped into by Mikey from behind, jerking the tech turtle forward.
"He's not here, guys. He's not here," Mikey whispered.
"Alright. Fall in. Quietly," Leo told them, making hand signals to go with his order. One by one the turtles leapt down from the entrance, crouching as they landed to absorb the shock and ensure their thuds were as soft as possible. Mikey, however, was a bit louder than the others and let out a grunt as he hit the ground. His brothers turned to face him and angrily shushed the playful turtle.
They continued, walking slowly, as Mikey whispered to them, "So, guys, if it wasn't already obvious with that girl; dibs." He pointed to himself to make sure there was no misunderstanding to who he was referring. His brothers shushed him once more.
"If Master Splinter catches us, he'll send us back to the Hashi," Leo warned. They began removing their ninja weapons and placing them in their designated spots on the wall behind them.
"I ain't going back to the Hashi," Raph whispered.
"Every time we're in the Hashi it's because of you," Leo whispered back, shoving his brother's shoulder.
"Well, bro, you won't have to worry about me draggin' you down anymore," Raph shoved Leo's face before continuing to put away his sai.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mikey asked, coming right up into Raph's face.
Raph gave him a couple shoves using his shoulder, "I'm goin' out on my own, first chance I get."
"How are we gonna finish our Christmas Hip Hop album, bro? You're the hype man," Mikey told him, lightly tapping his brothers chest. The four brothers then began shushing and shoving each other, holding their fingers to their lips.
"You spit in my eye," Raph mumbled to Mikey, as the shushing continued still.
"He's not going anywhere. We all stick together," Leo told them once the shushing subsided.
"Sorry I spit in your eye, bro," Mikey whispered to Raph. He returned with a mumbled "shut up" and a glare.
"Uh, guys? Guys!" Donnie spoke urgently, almost dropping his whisper. "We got a bogey." Suddenly a light turned on behind them and the four turtles froze. A mutant rat stood behind them, holding a flashlight. His tail whipped out and knocked Leo to the floor as his brothers turned to face the new arrival. They began fumbling for excuses.
"Where have you been?" Their Master demanded.
"W-we … uh, were-" Raph began as his Master's tail whipped around his neck, bring him to his hands and knees.
"I forgot to soak my retainer," Donnie spoke quickly, attempting to rush off to the safety of his room, but he was stopped when his feet were knocked out from underneath him.
"I'm totally sleep walking," Mikey told his Master, holding out his hands like a mummy and walking slowly. "Look, Mikey's sleeping, and walking. He's totally innocent." Mikey fell on his shell as his Master struck at his legs much like he had with Donnie.
"Enough!" Master Splinter cried, "You disobeyed a direct order! Why did you go above ground? What happened?!" He shined the light into the face of each of his sons, and they quickly averted his gaze. "Very well. If that's how it's going to be. To the Hashi!" The turtle brothers groaned as their Master turned on his heel and led them to the Hashi.
...
April scurried around the ideas room of the Channel Six News building. She was putting up photos and organizing all the information she had gathered from staying up the night before. The table was covered in more photos and notes, along with her laptop, that couldn't fit on the boards. She was scribbling something on the white board when the news chief entered. "O'Neil. What was so important I had to get here?" She asked.
"Okay. Are you ready?" April asked back, clearly sleep deprived and most likely running on several cups of coffee.
"Yeah," The chief urged her.
"Okay," April began, clearing her throat and speaking quickly. "You know how I saw the vigilante? But I had no photos or evidence to show you, so I just sounded crazy." The chief nodded and peppered "yeahs" as April got to the point of her story. "Okay, well I saw him again. Well, I didn't see him again, I saw them, because there's four. There's not just one, there's four. And I was standing as close to them as you are to me right now."
"What did they look like?" The chief asked. She sounded overly hopeful that April had finally brought her something tangible to use that no other news media had a drop on yet.
April pointed at her boss with two fingers, "I'll show you." She walked over to one of the boards that held various photos she had gathered the night before, and pointed to a picture of a red eared slider turtle. Chief Thompson's face fell into confusion, so April was forced to elaborate. "Like this." She continued, tapping the photo.
"Like turtles?" Thompson asked, still confused.
"Well, they don't look like turtles, because they are turtles. They're over six feet tall and they speak English," April explained. The Chief looked at her, now with an expression of worry, as she feared her employee may have gone mad.
She turned and began making her way to the exit, mumbling, "Oh my god."
"I was awake all night. Please. Look," April begged before moving towards the other white board. "I was awake all night googling all the thwarted crimes over the past three months and this symbol appeared at every single one. Look. Every. Single. One. This one. Look. Here, here, here, here." She pointed furiously at the different images. "And it's an ancient Japanese symbol that means family."
The chief placed her hand on her forehead in utter disbelief, "I can't believe you've brought me here to do this." April scurried around the table, flipping up papers and folders until finally locating her laptop under the mess. She flipped it open and typed quickly with one hand.
"Here, here. It's here," she said. "This is my father's lab. This is the same lab where these things were born. Or, or, created, or mutated, or, I don't know the terminology, but please just look at what I'm showing you and listen to me. It's all connected. The turtles are the vigilantes. And the vigilantes are these turtles." April showed her boss the old footage of her younger self feeding baby Michelangelo bits of pizza. Chief Thompson shifted her glasses on her nose. She was fed up with this nonsense and clearly showed it.
She closed April's laptop before speaking, "I just want to be clear; you are now telling me that there are four, six foot, talking turtles walking around New York City and no one has seen them but you?"
"That's what I'm telling you," April replied, picking up on her boss's skeptasism.
"I don't mean to laugh, but is there anything else we should know about them?"
"They're ninjas."
"I'm sorry, what?" Thompson was now entering a whole new level of disbelieve.
"And they do karate."
"Okay, get out."
...
The door slammed behind April as she carried her things out of the Channel Six News building and into the streets of New York. She was sniffling softly as tears hinted at her eyes. "O'Neil!" Vern called to her. She turned to see him leaning against the news van. He stood and made his way towards her, letting out his breath as he thought about what to say, "Could'a been worse."
"I just got fired, Vern. How could it be worse?" She asked.
"Maybe it's good. Maybe you should take a little time to take care of yourself," He said, trying to put a positive spin on her situation. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride."
"Nah, I should go over to Eric Sacks' estate," She told him, walking in the other direction. "I'm not giving up on this story."
"Hey, hey," Vern came around her to stop her from walking away. "You gotta put that to bed."
"Would all of those other great reporters that you worked with, would they have put it to bed?"
"That's different."
"How is it different?! They all started exactly where I am, right?"
Vern paused. She had him beat. He took the box from her hands and walked passed her, back to the news van, "I'm not driving the Channel Six News van onto the Sacks' estate."
"Who asked you to do that?" April asked, turning around to follow him.
"Uh, you did. And a thanks would have been nice," Vern replied.
"Maybe one day you're gonna be thanking me." They opened the doors of the van and hoped in. Vern set the box between them.
"So, what do you want with Eric Sacks?" He asked while buckling his seat belt.
"My dad used to work for him," April answered. "He's the only person that's gonna be able to tell me whether or not I'm crazy."
"Crazy about what?"
"I don't need you to laugh at me also."
"Oh, come on, O'Neil. This is the Fenwick Express. It's a judgement free zone. A cocoon of safety."
"Promise?"
"I'm insulted that you would suggest otherwise," Vern started the van as April decided to tell him about the night before.