Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Day of the Rat
A '90s movie universe story, set between movies II and III
Chapter 14: Red Blue Orange Purple
"Uh... Is this what you guys do all day...?" Todd waved his hand dismissively at the TV sitting in front of himself, Raphael and Michelangelo.
Oh, sure, Raphael thought, a bunch of mutant turtles, adept in martial arts and going around fighting the good fight, that he could accept. The idea that they might pass some time in front of the tube, however...
"Uh, I suppose..." replied Michelangelo. "Our friend April's on. We try not to miss her shows."
"I'll have to take your word for that." Todd looked again at the TV. The screen was dark, and through the big hole the tube and other inner workings could clearly be seen. Less of a TV, it was more of an ex-TV. It had ceased to be a TV.
Donatello walked past, and Raphael tapped his arm as he came within reach. "Donny, you said you were going to take a look at the TV..."
"I did. Write off, dude. I told you, you need to scavenge us a new one."
Raphael thought for a moment, and looked sheepish. "Oh... Yeah. You did. I'll see what I can find tonight."
Todd stood up and limped over to where Donny sat at his makeshift computer. "That thing's a little small... Where are the cables…?"
"I call it a laptop. I built it myself."
"What 'ya' doing now?" Donatello's deceptively clumsy-looking fingers were tapping at the keyboard at a rate faster than Todd could follow.
"I'm programming... This is the bit that takes time. I'm defining every color as a hexiflexiwexamal code... You see?"
"No." Todd shrugged and wandered back over to Raphael. "What happened to the TV anyway?" he asked casually.
Raphael snorted. "Yeah, that was our revered"-
-"That would be me. Sorry..." said Leonardo. "Sword practice. Got outta hand..."
Todd sat back on the beat-up couch, rubbing his injured knee. He glanced over at a section of the lightweight internal wall that looked like it had been replaced recently. The repair was good, but he could still tell something had happened to it not so long ago. "Did you do that as well?" he asked lightly.
The Turtles glanced at each other sharply. "Uh, yeah..." Leonardo said hurriedly.
OK, change the subject, fine... Todd looked over at Leonardo's swords, hanging from a hook on the wall, deep in thought. "Leo?"
"Yeah?"
"What was it you wanted me to do? You made a big thing of that, and then just clammed up. What's the big secret?"
"Oh yeah..." Leonardo said, hurrying over. "Yeah... I wanted to talk to the other guys about that before asking you. And I have. So, Todd... We might just have a job you can do for us..."
The others gathered round, bubbling up with barely suppressed glee. Leonardo went on. "There's a... thing we really gotta have... Without it, we'll be in real trouble. Ever since we came here to Lakeside, it's gotten very difficult to obtain. See, in New York, we had ways, means, contacts... Here it's not so easy..."
Todd waved his hands, laughing. "Hey... Leo... I got it... You can stop talking. Whatever it is, if it's that important I'll do it. What is it you guys need?"
Pizza!
Michelangelo had got tired of the mystery voice man's incessant questions, and now whatever it asked him it got that simple one-word response. Hey – it was possible if he said it enough times – thought it enough times, whatever - it might actually give him some of that coveted doughy, cheesy, tomatoey goodness. Sure, it wasn't likely, but Michelangelo was an optimist.
Something else he was - underestimated. He had a feeling voice man was in a hurry, and the longer he could keep him occupied the better.
Ow! That hurt!
The questions were over. Michelangelo felt like fingers were actually delving into his brain and could only watch helplessly as his carefully constructed mental pizza was torn apart and cast into the darkness. It upset him even when he reminded himself the pizza wasn't real...
"...In fact, you know what, kid" said Raphael. "We got some money. You got a mug that won't make the guy in the pizza place go aaaaaggghhhh and run for the Catskills... You see where I'm goin' wit' this?"
"Uh, I think so." Todd smiled, as Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello all nodded enthusiastically. Then his face fell, and he gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "You want me to be an errand boy. Just like those drug dealers did."
"Right" said Raphael, pleased. "Um, no" he added. "Not exactly" he clarified.
"Hey, Todd, don't think of it that way" Leonardo said, an arm round his shoulder. "Think of it as... logistical support."
"I wanna be like you guys" Todd pleaded. He looked at each of them in turn.
"Uh... I think I saw a can of green paint somewhere" said Michelangelo helpfully.
"Ha ha. You know what I mean, you guys" Todd insisted. "If I had a tenth of your skills, I could set this whole place right."
"You know, kid..." Raphael mused. "...Doing what we do isn't about waving swords around or beating people up whenever you want. Most of it is up here..." He laid a hand on the domed top of his own head. "It's a positive mental attitude... It's about finding... the still point..."
"Um, where did Raph go?" Leonardo asked. "Bring him back, somebody."
Raphael guided Todd to the center of the room. "Look, kid - try this, OK..." He touched Todd's left foot and made him lift it off the ground and stand on the right one alone. "Try standing like this. See how long you can hold it."
Todd looked doubtful. "OK." He stood on one foot for a while, watched by the Turtles. After a few seconds, he wobbled slightly. After a minute, he wobbled a lot.
The Turtles exchanged doubtful glances. Todd's left foot hit the floor to stop him falling over.
"Hey, that's not fair. You know I hurt the knee, plus I got an inner ear thing" he said defensively. "I just need to practice."
Raphael pointed at him. "Exactly... Exactly... And exactly."
Leonardo took up the theme. "Raph's right, Todd. Kind of. In his own way. Sometimes. At least, I can see what he's going for. It's a long road, and a steep learning curve. And you don't have to be a ninja to make the right choices in your life."
Michelangelo took Todd by the arm and steered him away from the others. "I think what they're trying to say is..." He thought for a moment. "Could you get us pizza? Please? There was some other stuff, but I kinda zoned out." He grinned.
The rats streamed around their monarch's throne in a state of high agitation. They could feel his state of anxiety, and were being whipped into a restless fervor that in turn became a feedback loop that made the Rat King himself start to lose his grip on their minds.
He was so near. Where was it hidden…? His path through their memories was obscured by the flashing colors – each time he had a firm grasp of a particular incident, a burst of red would make him lose it and he would need to find it all over again. Red, blue, orange, purple.
Red. Blue. Orange. Purple.
If only he had access to the other Turtle's mind. Donatello. He felt sure the missing pieces must be there. Even the Rat King was moved to smile faintly as he remembered the other Turtles' mangled recollection of I'm defining every color as a hexadecimal code...
Red. Blue. Orange. Purple.
Always in that order.
He was sure he had been on the right track. The Turtles would not grant him direct access to the portion of their memories he was looking for, but he had found isolated threads that should have been possible to follow. An insidious path through their defenses – clues – a trail of breadcrumbs. Pizza crumbs.
Where had that come from? Irrelevant. Or was it?
Always in that order. Of course. He saw it now, but also saw that it was not complete. There was more, and, maddeningly, they didn't know it. How could that be?
He followed the thread. He could see the Turtles in the alley. The four thieves sat back to back, bound and gagged. He listened impatiently as the easily distracted Turtles meandered their way to the truth. It would be nice if she had left them a trail. Breadcrumbs... Pizza crumbs...
The girl, April O'Neil...
Even as he followed this line of reasoning one of his rats was dispatched to make sure April was still where he had last located her. He was impressed by the Turtles' efforts to deflect his attention from their human friend. Even on a subconscious level, they were protecting her. It had taken him this long to realize she might be as much a guardian of the item he needed as they were...
The report came back swiftly. Unsurprisingly, April was still held at the Foot Clan's junkyard base - From his spy came a quick visual flash of the captive reporter writhing against her cruel bindings. At the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the three Turtles' dismay and anger as the vision was shared with them, but they were irrelevant now.
Even so... Was it... pity he felt? Even guilt, since by capturing the Turtles he had deprived April of help and left her at the Foot's non-existent mercy? These sensations meant something to Lawrence Hynten, but he was buried deep in the Rat King's mind and had very little power to influence him.
Impatiently, he dismissed such thoughts. Time to go. Not on any kind of rescue mission - the information he needed was all that mattered. The Rat King stepped down, and the rats scattered around him as he strode purposefully to the exit.
The rats were left in turmoil after the departure of their master, some still under his control and others decidedly not. Some started to fight each other in territorial dispute that had long been subdued by their common purpose and the iron will of their master. An iron will suddenly relaxed.
"Uuuuuuuuhhh..."
A groan escaped from one of the large mounds of rat flesh, and the mass of rodents shifted as something powerful fought to escape from beneath. With an effort that left him thoroughly exhausted, Leonardo erupted from his living prison and collapsed again to the floor.
He forced himself to stand, and assisted his two brothers as they struggled free as well. Weak as kittens, but give them time. Just a little time.
Then they would make the Rat King pay.
Next: "Freddy's Revenge"
In which April ponders Houdini, Jake tries being good cop and Irma saves the planet…