Mutants and Miracles (Editor's Cut)

by Zarius

The adventure of the Fab Fred Wolf four continue, in these episodic, and interlinked, instalments that carry on where the 2009 movie Turtles Forever left off!

9. A Radical Portrait Of Dimension X

Tibbit checked the muzzle on his gun and sharpened his gaze as the automated Frisbee catapult sent another disc into the air.

He raised his weapon and fired. The disc shattered into pieces and scattered it's remnants far and wide across the stretch of the lawn of his country house.

Tibbit took out a small handkerchief and rubbed his brow. The intense summer weather was bearable, but only just.

It was his fault for dressing up in a brown overcoat with a knitted scarf. He blamed his allergies all too easily.

The pollen from the blooming flowers caused all sorts of upheaval in his nasals.

He retired to the confines of his home, where his partner, Bronze, was curled up on the sofa reading an arts magazine.

"Dear god man, have you breathed in the air around this place? It smells of war" complained Tibbit as he removed his scarf and deposited it in the pile of laundry.

"Oh everything is about war with you, you're an old soldier Tibbit, reminded of the old stings in the wind rather than the delicacy of the gentle breeze"

"Don't wax a mind clogged with poetry to me Bronze, you know what we left behind all those years ago" Tibbit replied, placing the laundry into the washing machine before turning to a pile of unwashed dishes and submerging them in the soap-ridden sink.

"Yes, I know...but the point of that exodus was to have fun in our field. Neutrino elders of our type are a rare breed these days, all the other ones are obsessed with their motors and their nights out and their hot dates, they spend little time taking in the splendor of analysis and revel in the detail of debate. There's more fun to be had being a bit more grown-up than indulging in the burning desire to conquer and then re-conquer the ever decreasing days of youth"

"I suppose my mind reaches back all too much to the generations that come behind us...what legacy are they leaving behind? Will they yammer on incessantly about how fast their cars are? What kind of day they had egging on a soldier and braving a war zone? Dimension X has splendor, they just don't want to reach out and see it"

"Then why don't we set them a bit of a challenge?" Bronze suggested, "With Krang's forces presently overthrown in Dimension X, I don't see why we can't just transmit an open letter to the Neutrino council back home and ask them to submit some of our younger ilk to try and capture some of that said splendor in a painting, send it over to us, and we'll critique it"

"Dimension X may be a little safer, but there are still pockets of the old regime in places, Neutrino youth may be mischievous and hard to handle, but they're not soldiers" Tibbit spoke

"Then we'd best be specific over who we pick" Bronze replied, "...And already my mind is casting back to the legends that are still amongst the living...ones with the most experience against Krang and his kind"

"Oh no...you don't mean..." Tibbit said

"I'm afraid I do" Bronze replied

"Not THOSE Neutrinos" snapped Tibbit

"They would serve to benefit from a little culture" Bronze rationalized.

"They exist to shock and shatter all manner of culture they're introduced to" Tibbit complained, nibbling a little at one of his cleaner plates in a moment of brief anxiety

"Don't give yourself a plateful Tibbit, this is a sound idea with solid merit, all they need is a little more assurance, and if their stories back home are to be believed, there are creatures on this very planet that can help those Neutrinos out should they come across any forces still burdened with a genius for war"

"Name them" Tibbit said, "What creatures?"

"That's the thing, I think they're known as the Fully Realized Mexican Turtles...or is the Pork Pie Eating Karate Pigs...or is it..."

"We'll be here all day, tell you what, you retreat into your memory kingdom and I'll set about setting up the trans-dimensional com link so we can contact home and set about this quest" Tibbit replied, slowly beginning to let his excitement build "Finally, a chance to show those stuffy bloggers back home how a real mind articulates and appreciates the art set out in front of him"

Tibbit set off to begin assembling the hardware, all while Bronze continued to debate with himself over what the Neutrino's potential allies were called

"Kung-Fu Pandas...no, no that's definitely not it" he said, "Despicable Mimi Ninja Minions...no that's not it either..."

Fiona Butcher wasn't quite sure how many times she had told her husband not to make the bed when she was in the process of redressing it.

She took her eye off the ball to nip into the shower, and as soon as she emerged to get changed...there it was.

A made bed, complete with those surface pillows that are barely comfortable and only serve as decoration, with the real pillows underneath the sheets.

Pillows she was also going to change and freshen up.

She didn't have the time or the feeling to undo her husband's hard work, not with work and other problems on her plate.

No, instead she would get changed, venture down the stairs, and enter the kitchen, and hope breakfast hadn't been quite as bungled as the bedroom had been.

As she entered, she found her husband, Cade, who was sitting at the table alongside their son, Tony Ren, helping him with reading a book on how to best critique art.

Tony was someone of a nervous disposition and was a stutterer; the condition had been a perplexing obstacle in his life throughout infancy and childhood.

He was now in his fifth year of school and had yet to conquer it. This was also the year in which he was finally granted permission to try his hand at public speaking in the school and he wanted to make an impression

"How's he been doing?" Fiona said as she greeted her husband with a tender kiss on the cheek and set about making him toast

"He can get to the end of one paragraph, but as soon as the full stop on a sentence closes in, he just shuts down. His teachers tell me that's why his writing at school contains virtually no full stops or periods because he thinks if he does that, he'll be able to get through the words on paper, but he almost always trails off, and it gets worse when he loses his place. He's too distracted"

Fiona paid him little attention, her mind was already drifting to other things. Cade laughed as he recognized this and somewhat appreciated how the supreme irony was amusing him greatly.

"You're worried another one's been lifted over at the museum aren't you?" Cade said

Fiona nodded. Cade got up and gave her a warm embrace.

"I spent so much time on those blasted things more than trying to raise my own kid, I put my profession far above my personal ambitions, and what for? To have them swiped and hidden away in some dank little cipher's warehouse collecting dust and a hefty ransom demand?"

"Now, now, we haven't had a ransom for them yet, that's just you projecting your worst fears onto everything as usual" Cade said, rubbing her shoulders as the tenseness pent up on her

"I need...I need to tell you something, I've kept it bottled up so long, everything's moving so slowly, I...I..."

"Hey, save the migraines for the after-work sessions at home, it's too early to cave yet. Have some breakfast and watch the news with the rest of us. Your thefts are being covered at the top of the hour"

"Ok, you win" Fiona said, rubbing her head delicately on Cade's before resuming with the toast.

As the family gathered 'round to eat breakfast, Fiona looked at Tony Ren and sighed. A boy bright with potential but who had so much to climb over to achieve it. Therapy had been suggested to her, but she had been raised on old-school family perseverance. Her own mother had to make do when her father would always vanish for months on end, either because of his own projects or because he would pay the price for those operations coming apart.

No. No therapist would tell her what was necessary in her or Tony's head. She would raise her boy up so he could stand on mountains and she knew, eventually, he would reach the desired heights.

As the news came on, there stood New York's reliable newshound April O'Neil, covering the story at the heart of the matter, the Guggenheim museum.

"I heard she's going out with one of those Turtle things" Cade said.

"Cool" muttered Tony

"See? A little scandal gets anyone talking" Cade said

"Where'd you hear that?" Fiona asked.

"Read about it on Twitter"

"Well it makes sense I suppose, she and the whole news team were mutated into giant flies once, and there were those stories about Seymour Guts..."

"Well it's her business, I wouldn't want to intrude too much on it, besides I think she can help out...well, given her connections..."

"No, I don't want that sort of help, bad enough the police are baffled, getting in bed with the vigilante sort will just make them feel more inadequate. Besides, they're Turtles, not detectives, and that O'Neil woman? Ha, she always gets kidnapped. Fat load of good she is in a crisis"

Fiona looked at the clock, and sighed. It was time to punch in.

"Got to go. Drive Tony to school will you?" Fiona said, and kissed her husband and son goodbye before embarking on her trip to work.

Cade peered over at Tony, still struggling to read the pages on the art book, he shook his head sadly as the struggle continued.

He gazed back at the TV, inspiration, and a bit of a rebellious notion, came to him. He got up and picked up the phone, he skimmed through the phonebook and found what he was looking for.

He soon swiftly punched in the appropriate numbers.

His wife was going to kill him, but so long as it meant the restoration of her paintings, he welcomed the inevitable intent of murder.

"Hello, is this the offices of Agatha Marbles? Yes, could you tell her I have something of a case for her, it involves a story her niece is covering, the Guggenheim art thefts? Yes, I'll hold..."

"Get a move on" said Tibbit as he and Bronze traversed the lush marshy landscape of the countryside, heading towards a large train tunnel.

"Steady on Tibbit, these legs haven't had a good stretch in a while, especially not this distance, we haven't been here for fifteen years" Bronze complained, bemoaning at how knackered his knees were.

"It takes us back doesn't it? Mind you, back then we didn't quite have to worry about a train smashing into us when we exited the trans-dimensional tear"

"Are you sure opening up the tear is wise at this time of day? For all we know, we could be sending a helpless carrier vehicle teeming with humans right into an otherworldly void" Bronze suggested

"Oh you needn't worry" Tibbit said, flashing a small crystalline pen knife in front of Bronze, "I've patched the bio-patterns of our selected Neutrino youth into this inter-rift sealer, using the co-ordinates we'll transmit through the rift, the younglings will find the wormhole we travelled through years ago, come out on this side, and as soon as they do, the portal will seal up from the other end once it detects all of their patterns passing through"

"And then a train crashes into them. Sound logic" Bronze said

"Why on Earth are you so precise about the scheduling for these contraptions? I thought you were an art critic, not a train spotter" Tibbit asked, befuddled Bronze constantly took issue with his stratagem.

"I guess I've seen too many instances where you think all is well and you've cleared the path of the beast, and then suddenly the beast hits you like a freighter, leaving you mangled and cut up"

"Such things happen only in the theatre" Tibbit replied

"It's on TV all the time" said Bronze, "Usually at 3:30"

"Cartoon time?" Tibbit replied

"Anyway, perhaps it's better that we have one of those portable portal contraptions" Bronze complained, changing the subject to avert further embarrassment, "Don't those Teenage Mutant What's-their-names have one lying around?" Bronze asked

"We're going to need to give the younglings better descriptions than what you're coming up with" Tibbit said.

The two entered the train tunnel, being careful not to touch the sides of the rails, and approached a murky looking wall, Tibbit held up the inter-rift sealer and brushed it up and down the side of the wall, opening a small silver line in the middle of thin air.

"There, it's open" Tibbit said, and gently let go of the sealer. It hung in the air, floating and steadily allowing small trinkets of white light to flow from it, steadily seeping into the small tear, and slowly causing it to enlarge.

" "Now, time to transmit the co-ordinates and the open letter to the Neutrino council on a high-range frequency. Fortunately, time is accelerated a little bit more in Dimension X than it is here, so it should be received in a relatively short space"

Tibbit cleared his throat and spoke calmly and assertively.

"Attention Neutrino council, this is Tibbit Conseco and my associate Bronze Barrow of the Neutrino arts and crafts critique commission, we have an urgent and crucial challenge, we require the younglings of quadrant 5X/2D. The challenge is as follows..."

"Erm, Tibbit..." Bronze said, seeing something looming in the distance.

"Not now Bronze" Tibbit said, shushing him, "The challenge is as follows, to craft a portrait of Dimension X's most lavish and most visually riveting landscapes and phenomena of evolution, the requirements for the portraits are the following: See without seeing, hear a great hand, take the salute, walk through the ages, plant seeds, and transmit the impossible"

"Tibbit..." Bronze said as the approaching object.

Tibbit elbowed him.

"Once you have achieved all of this, preferably with the aid of the fastest of this planet's slow moving creatures, allies to you in the past, then return to this world and dimension so we may evaluate and critique the portrait and evaluate the general attitudes and appreciation levels the youth have for the culture of our dimension. Your challenge begins in an Earth period of 24 hours and lasts for the duration of that time. Live in that moment, and live for fun"

"TIBBIT" said Bronze.

"What on Earth is it?" Tibbit said

"MOVE" Bronze said, and pushed Tibbit out of the way before snatching the inter-rift seal and closing the rift before leaping to safety as a train hurtled towards the pair. The two steadily exited the tunnel and made it back up the hill as the train passed through the tunnel.

"Perhaps it's better that we try this later in the evening"

"Sound scheduling" said Bronze.

"At least we got the transmission out...now let's hope the younglings take note.. " Tibbit said

"What if they refuse?" Bronze said

"To defy a direct order from the Neutrino elder council is a transgression that Neutrino youth dare not attempt...it means six days of homework. That's no fun. What is it they say? 'The least thing that's cool is a trip back to school'

"Or a first-time experience with school is just as worse for first time offenders" added Bronze.

The two dusted themselves off and headed back home, with Bronze wondering just how safe their second attempt at keeping the rift open would prove to be.

Any excuse to look at the time table.

Any excuse to indulge in the art of train spotting.

At the Guggenheim museum, April was braving the heat as she awaited the subject of her interview. Vernon was steeped in a book on how to evaluate art and wasn't paying attention to her.

As he skimmed through the pages, his gaze transfixed on the passages about identifying what you see in a picture and how to best evaluate it for its use of colors, he failed to notice a series of cable leads coming out of the news van, and swiftly tripped up and tangled himself up in them, before falling to the floor and landing on his rump.

"Vernon, as a director you've got to lead by example, not be made an example by the leads" April remarked, allowing herself a brief giggle.

"Just keep your eyes on your interview April, this assignment is the only guaranteed way you'll ever get an insight into the art profession" Vernon snapped back

"Hey, I took a course of this back in college, I can recite most of whatever's in that book you're reading" April replied.

"Oh I'm sure you know a thing or two about artists, especially ones from the Renaissance period. I'm sure with your rumored intimate history with one of them, you'll be quick to think of 'David' as a baby name"

April swiftly became incensed.

"You've been on Twitter haven't you?" she replied, "Just 'fess up Vernon, are you the one spreading that gossip online?"

"Me? Certainly not, I wouldn't be caught dead on that social hornet's nest, though as usual I don't hear even the faintest trace of denial from you so far about it, it's very in-keeping with how you were with the Turtles when they started befriending you" Vernon said.

"Maybe it's better to evaluate the objects in motion than prey on the objects at rest" April said

"I don't follow" Vernon said

"It should be all there in your little manual Vernon, It means unless you catch me in the act, you're going to get as vague a denial or confirmation as possible. Make your own deductions about it" April replied, and went back to rehearsing for the interview.

Vernon picked himself up and tried to loosen himself from the grip of the leads that encircled his body.

His mind drifted as he did so, he knew April wasn't really denying anything had been going on with one of the Turtles. Perhaps, if it was up to her, it wouldn't be a secret?

Why was she so confidant it would be widely accepted?

Then his mind soon entertained other notions relating to his own inferiority issues. Was he really that out-of-synch with the times?

Things that had once been considered taboo were steadily becoming more and more the norm in the world.

Could it be that the gradual accepting of mutant kind was becoming status quo instead of temporary sensation?

Someone on a bike suddenly pulled up in front of the two. Disembarking from it was Fiona Butcher.

In addition to her arrival, a car coated in silver and black pulled up at the exact same instance.

"About time we got this show on the road" April said. Vernon cleared himself of the entangled leads, picked up the camera, and began recording April

"This is April O'Neil, returning from our commercial break with our continued coverage of the theft of the 'Black Labels' collection at the Guggenheim museum. In a moment we'll be speaking to the illustrator of the priceless paintings, famed for having no distinct titles of their own, but the lavish detail and subject matter of the illustrations have given them an impactful aura of mystery and inspiration about them"

Fiona ran up the steps to the entrance of the museum and looked back at April with a saddened expression on her face as a rather shady and slender partially bald man with flaky orange curls across the sides of his head emerged from the car, sporting a grey suit with a matching set of white ties and shoes.

"With me now is the illustrator of the paintings. World renowned critic Preston Phillips Feldman"

"A moment if you would mind Ms. O'Neil, I need to see my wife home" Preston said, walking back over to his car and tenderly kissing the hood.

Someone bolted past Fiona as she entered the museum and headed towards the car, Preston took the car keys from his pocket and tossed it to him

"Have an affair and I'll kill the pair of you" Preston replied. The man nodded and entered the car, steadily driving it away from the museum and towards a nearby car park where it would sit for the duration of Preston's visit

"Mr. Feldman, just what is it about YOUR 'black labels' that you think warrants their theft?"

"Ms. O'Neil, it is not a rare thing for successful results to be met with a mixture of desires and wants, the need to understand them, the desire to profit from them, it can be stomach-churning to the avid art student and appreciation of the field, but also quite flattering to the creative types to know they have such an impact on the human mind, the art of human nature, set in motion by striking visuals and the urge to know what they are capable of deducing about the paintings, which have no title, no formal means of identification.

They are absolute.

Some will want to put a name to it when the time comes to sell them to the highest bidder, they want to impose their power over the object in motion, and put to rest it's mystery, it's a bit like the type of fan fiction you see on the internet, only with a canvas, putting your own spin and description on something that they have no real control over and have no say to follow other than the word of god"

"So you're not mad?" April asked

"Quite mad" Preston said, hoping April would read between the lines.

"Thank you Mr. Feldman. This is April O'Neil, we'll have more coverage of this story at the top of the happy hour news this evening. For now, good health and good morning"

April signed off and walked back over to the van while Preston ran up the steps to the entranceway, glaring at Fiona as he did so.

Fiona felt her own stomach churn. In some way, despite her frustrations over the theft of the portraits, a part of her felt relieved HER paintings had been liberated, whilst she remained very much a prisoner.

The gaping and wide dimension holes contained within the realm of the harsh nebula howled as it hurtled various flotsam and jetsam through its wormholes.

As a chase ensued between the patrolling Rock Soldiers that were struggling to regain a strategic foothold on the nebula as part of a power play, and the fancy and free spirits that were doing their best to cross through one of the dimensional gateways to Earth and to a fresh challenge.

"Play it back again Kala" said Dask as he drove the Neutrino's cruiser-like Cadillac across the nebula, with a space rover shooting at them whilst they concentrated on ducking and diving past various hydro meteors pouring out on the network of wormholes

Kala, the female of the three person Neutrino trope, took out a small oval shaped device from her pocket and pressed her thumb gently down on it.

The image of the kindly and collected King Zenter appeared.

"The challenge set by our most esteemed of hyper-visionaries Tibbit Conseco is as follows, to craft a portrait of Dimension X's most lavish and most visually riveting landscapes and phenomena of evolution, keep in mind that these are the requirements: See without seeing, hear a great hand, take the salute, walk through the ages, plant seeds, and transmit the impossible"

"What do you make of that guys?" Kala asked

"There's no distinct difference between these riddles and homework...we ought to have outlawed homework as soon as Krang lost his grip on this dimension. We don't need no education" grumbled Zak.

"Attention Neutrinos, stand down" bellowed the Rock Solider from the pursuing rover as further torrents of laser fire were scattered in the direction of the Neutrino's vehicle.

"Yeah, well since we're heading back to Earth, we can just rely on some handy study buddies in the form of the Turtles" said Dask.

"I can't wait to see my main madman Michelangelo again, I heard he was named after an artist, this ought to get him in a creative mood, and I do love it when a guy thinks long and hard about the party he's arranging" Kala said, permitting herself a dreamy swoon as she clasped her hands together and wallowed in her sentimental sense of nostalgia.

So many years had passed since her last flirtatious fling with the heroic Turtle, she was keen to see how far he had come, and part of her hoped little of him had changed.

"First, we better put pressure on our pedal otherwise we'll throw our lot in with those rascally Rock Soldiers that are tailing us"

"Surrender and prepare to be boarded" again declared the pursuing Rock Soldiers.

"Oh go and guzzle some gas, it's just your kind of recreation, here, we'll help out with that" said Zak as he flipped a switch on the dashboard, causing more exhaust fumes to pour out of the back of the car in a thick coating of fog that concealed the rover.

The Rock Soldiers were heard to cough and splutter.

"Seems you guys may want a light with that" Zak added, flicking another switch, the trunk of the car opened and a large flame-thrower emerged.

As the rover cleared the fog, it tried stopping before it was met with a blanket of fire, only to drive directly into it.

The Rock Soldiers abandoned the rover and were left stranded and at the mercy of the vicious gravity of the dimensional wormholes which led to all sorts of terrors and ideas never realized within the limited paradigms of the dimension they currently inhabited

All three Neutrinos high-fived each other and raced towards one wormhole ahead of them, a yellow and silver tinted swirling mass of illuminated light.

"There's our window of opportunity, the co-ordinates match" Kala said.

"The let's rush out of this realm" said Dask, and with a firm step, accelerated the momentum of the car and drove through the wormhole

With the crisp coating of evening as their blanket, Tibbit and Bronze waited patiently at the front of the train tunnel, their rift once again opened. Bronze was busy looking through binoculars, trying to catch sight of any evening errands from trains

"I wish you would have faith in your own sense of scheduling...I thought you were assured there would be no nightly disruptions"

"Emergencies still happen from time to time Tibbit" replied Bronze

"I suppose once they get there we should retire back to our house and prepare to map out their journey, arm them with the hyper-pens, give them a rousing drink of that new type of soda that's kicking about in the market, and then watch them dance over the perplexing puzzle"

"Encouraging kids to take soda? I know you're a hyper-visionary, but do we need to keep them hyper in that sense?" uttered a concerned Bronze

"A good beverage can help in adjusting one to the truth" said Tibbit.

Suddenly, the rift in front of the tunnel steadily became bigger, Tibbit alerted Bronze

"They're coming, oh how well timed, we are abundant in good fortune today, as they are abundant in good company" said Tibbit.

"Erm...Tibbit" Bronze said as he caught something moving along the track through his binoculars

As the rift grew bigger and bigger, Tibbit opened his arms out in relish

"Come, come my young darlings, throw caution to the wind, be unpredictable in the most predictable senses known to our people"

The Neutrino's Cadillac shot through the portal and flew out of the tunnel, before taking a turn and diving back in again to meet up with the two Neutrinos

"You the arts and crafts cats we've been told about?" said Zak as the car hovered above Tibbit

"Yes, yes, welcome back youngsters, we have a lot to discuss, you are amongst a den of dragons, together we will breath new fire into the creativity of the Neutrino clans"

"TIBBIT" yelled Bronze

"Kindly don't run down my introduction Bronze" said Tibbit

"If we don't get a move on, you'll be more run down in the literal sense" Bronze replied, and handed Tibbit the binoculars.

Tibbit looked through them and saw a train moving towards them.

"Oh ye have every right to have little faith" Tibbit whispered.

The Neutrinos lowered their car so the two critics could board, Tibbit then sealed the rift as quickly as he could before the train charged through the tunnel.

The Neutrinos rode their car out of the tunnel with the train chasing after them before climbing upwards and cutting through the veil of night and coursing through the star-studded skies.

"Well, that's what I call a real derailment" said Kala.

"We're going to have to cut that kind of cheese around these boring hams" said Zak.

"Cheese? That joke was pure grade-a sweet corn" said Dask.

"Let's do our best to stay on track" said Tibbit.

The Neutrinos looked at him, they were quite impressed.

"I'm totally down with the kids" he remarked to an embarrassed Bronze.

Now was not the time to feel or look small, but Michelangelo of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was eager to displease his tutor as he pondered his problem trapped in the body of a three year old Turtle-like toddler.

"Narrow it down" came the stern and disciplinary voice of Donatello as Michelangelo found himself sitting atop a large spiral staircase, below were a pack of ravenous purple and black rock wailers, all frothing at the mouth, their sharpened teeth begging to be indulged.

Michelangelo felt a rush as his legs dashed down the staircase, heading towards the dogs, he stumbled and struggled to maintain some higher ground, but the momentum of his rapid descent was proving difficult.

"Narrow it down" came the voice again

"Hey you, get your damn hands off her" said Michelangelo to the dog trying to mount one of the bitches in the pack

"You've singled out the chauvinist, not the problem" Donatello said, "Don't think about the easy way out"

Michelangelo nodded and pondered as much as his swift movements were allowing themselves to.

He began to reach the edge of the steps, the dogs viciously snapping at his tender feet

"Think, count how many are attacking me? Which one isn't...that's what Donatello means...narrow it down" Michelangelo said, and looked at the pack with closer eyes, he noticed one dog cowering in the corner, making whimpering noises, all while the shield of sheer and ravenous vindictiveness made howls and snarls.

Michelangelo gradually placed one foot on the step behind him, then another, then another, before turning around and very slowly, with barely any strength present in his body, he began a merciless and tiring ascent up the staircase.

He looked back to see the saddened rock wailer, and reached out his hand

"It's ok...I read you like a book, it wasn't your fault, this group pushed you into it, you don't need to follow the pack, you can totally lead by example dude" Michelangelo said.

Before his eyes, a startling transformation occurred as the rock wailer, transformed into a youthful male lad with curls and a grey school sweater. He raised his arms up high and steadily walked through the unstable pack of dogs to the staircase. The dogs leaned in, taunting an attack, but none of them really were compelled to move in.

The boy took Michelangelo's hand, Michelangelo invited the boy to climb onto his back, and as he did so, Michelangelo felt the ability to climb the staircase was becoming much more seamless.

After what felt like hours, but probably was just minutes within the realm of reality, Michelangelo successfully made it back to the top, where he and the child were met by a large desk stacked with paperwork. Donatello stood there, a chair behind him

"Is he an open book to you?" Donatello asked

"Not quite going that far bro" Michelangelo said

"Good, you're keeping to your word" Donatello replied, smiling, he took a pen and put it to paper, crossing a date off the timetable before him. Six days without real incident.

"What's happening? I'm frightened" said the boy

Michelangelo let him get off his back and turned to him, "Getting caught up in drugs is the scary part kid, those pack of dogs down there weren't your friends, they wanted you to take that EDX first so they could all follow up right after, you probably thought going first would give you the coconuts needed to get approved. As you found out, it just gave a real drag called Dregg some time to flex his influence all over them"

"What'll happen to them now?" said the boy

"They'll start wondering why they saw a little green man pick the meekest of meerkats from the herd, and that'll give yours truly a chance to multiply in their minds"

A series of small winds suddenly picked up.

"This is where we part. When you wake up, get as far away from those dogs as possible, and get back to class, wherever you are, school is still in session" Michelangelo said

"Will I see you again?" the boy said

"You know those PSAS you get at the end of every cartoon? It might not be me, but there's really not much difference between the two of us" Michelangelo said, and waved to the boy as he faded from view.

Michelangelo's eyes opened and he found himself seated in the lair, Donatello and April looming over him.

"That went really well Mikey...though you could have probably ploughed through one of my dictionaries and used some extra big words. If you want to carry yourself off as some spirited guide through the dangers of EDX use, it's best to go Jedi Master on them"

"Don't think I need that lingo with kids Don" Michelangelo said

"Right, well, you and I can finally start battling it out with this beach ball" April replied, twirling the round rubber object in her hand, "That is, if you're not too busy with your head games"

"For you April, I'm just straight-up balling" said Michelangelo, getting up and kissing April gently on the lips before taking the ball out of her hands and racing out of the tunnel with his best friend and lover in frantic and impassioned pursuit.

Donatello smiled as Master Splinter walked towards him

"Michelangelo sharing in his adventure has truly inspired a lending of your generous hand Donatello" Splinter said.

"It's fascinating what a combination of shared symbiosis in mediation can do to one affected by EDX Master. Now that A.P.E has a hold of the stuff following it's confiscation from the aborted flight over the third world regions, we can test it to our heart's content"

"Be sure of this Donatello, you must be content in a world over the influence, not under it" Splinter advised.

"I'll keep that in mind Master, I don't intend to use it myself, I've got an ideal reality to maintain" Donatello replied, "I need to call up Irma and apologize for missing the date we'd arranged"

"The very idea that my students have a fancy for romance speaks volumes of maturity and demonstrates a scale of growth. Truly the lessons I have taught you in matters of the heart would satisfy the sacred masters who taught me in the same ways"

"I appreciate the encouragement Master, really, romance isn't really as complicated as you often caution us about" Donatello replied

"Be wise Donatello. Love is not just a straight line in life's mighty river, there are moments that divert the steady flow and can drag you under a dangerous undercurrent"

"Well if you hear Irma barking as madly as the dogs of war in Mikey's dreamscape, you'll know when the tide is coming in" Donatello said.

Splinter smiled and walked over to the television, where Raphael and Leonardo were seated

"Turtles, it is time to pay close attention to matters of the heart" Splinter said.

"Oh come on Sensei, just give us five more minutes of rocking sci-fi action from Ace Duck before we have to settle for some education" Raphael replied, "The revival is totally the best thing on Nick at the moment, it's a must-see"

"I'm not too keen on this show Raphael, the CGI is atrocious, the plotlines have pacing problems, way too many filler episodes that seem more to market a toy, and there's too many instances of characters carrying the idiot ball it's a wonder how the audience hasn't been able to see how much they've just dropped the ball on this show"

"It pulls in the ratings and makes the franchise increasingly relevant to the mainstream consumer, especially with that new Duck movie coming out" Raphael replied.

"Believe me, life IS like a hurricane with the Crash of the Titans director at the helm of this Duck tale"

"You're awfully frank about all this Raphael, a bit too hyper too"

"I'm just taking the right medicine for once, being truthful might hurt some feelings, but it allows everyone to steadily understand the bigger picture"

"The picture isn't always as pretty when laced with the matters of fact...some pictures are clearer when graced with the splendor of imaginative interpretation" Splinter cautioned

Walking over to the TV, Splinter turned the channel over to an ongoing soap opera. The ongoing serial Matters of the Heart

"School is in session" Splinter said, "Let those who have taught me so much on ways of romance now stir your soul"

"The gooey syrup lurking in my stomach's certainly stirring" said Raphael

Elsewhere, Donatello had just finished his short but understanding rapport with Irma.

She was perfectly fine with him missing a date if it meant helping his brother in a time of need .

He contemplated just how good he had it, he closed his eyes and thought back to the imagery of the desk he had in the dreamscape he had shared with Michelangelo.

Something was a little off about it

He looked at the desk to find the timetable of completed dates had been scribbled over, and several books that had been stacked on the desk had been discarded and left on a pile on the floor.

He loomed over to find the chair he had been standing over earlier had been turned over, he saw an arm draped over one of the handles on the chair. Someone was sitting in it.

He reached out to turn the chair, and as it's occupant came into view, a jolt of fear and panic washed over him

"A prize catch don't you think? You don't have to fear it, it's family after all...no price to pay with family right? No charge. No charge at all"

The desk transformed into a taxi cab, the room turned to a street.

"No charge" hissed the cab driver, before the cab hastily drove off into the night, Donatello briefly chased after it, but suddenly found himself back in the lair as he allowed his eyes to open

He gave himself a moment to breath, but pausing for breath became a little too frequent.

He was in shock.

Somehow the symbiosis had left open a back door to his memories. That's what he rationalized in his head.

In truth he had no real understanding of what had just happened, but he had to be professional and exact in deducing what had went on when the lights in his eyes went out.

There were ways to understand why Professor Kim Sagan was intruding on his mind

He just hoped they were all relatively sane ways.

"I'll be mother" said Tibbit as he poured Dask some soothing tea as he, Bronze and the remaining Neutrinos gathered at his cottage to rest and plan ahead.

"This is real chill, thanks" he said, taking little time at all to guzzle down the concoction and toss the cup away, alarming Tibbit.

Bronze was ever alert, and darted over the sofa and caught it just before it could shatter on the floor below.

"That is delicate china" said Tibbit in a flutter.

"Since when did you store countries as liquid containers?" said Dask.

Zak was also up to mischief, frequently fidgeting with the remote control for the television and picking at the rubber found on the battery storage compartment

Tibbit stormed over to him and plucked the remote from his hand, "It's not a tension ball you know" he said, and switched the channel to a music network.

The beats may have caused a migraine-inducing din, but it seemed to captivate the young Neutrino.

Kala was busy using a device that illuminated the entire living area of the cottage with images of people's Facebook profiles, friendship statues, photographs, and their captivating shots of scenery taken from days spent on vacations abroad.

"What on Earth are you doing?" said Tibbit.

"Using our light-wear grid to tap into the social networking of the planet, I'm glad this place has come this far in developing that. Last time we were here they were still using bricks for phones" Kala said

Dask took a moment to look at some of the paintings mounted on the wall in a small gallery situated in the study corner.

Amongst the general generic imagery of great Earth sea-faring vessels, planes, parachutes, and bird life was a large portrait of elements unique to his home dimension.

These were reminders of home comforts, sights and scenes of their home dimension, capturing the days spent in times of war.

The three-faced dogs with no nose and whom had the most endearing and loving eyes, playing in a park sprinkled with crimson tidal waves and emerald yellow swings and slides.

A pink beach with an indigo ocean tide that swept in and warmed the bodies of sun-bathing Neutrinos, it's aroma that of cherries

Tibbit walked up to him, handing him another drink, this time in a plastic cup

"Thanks man" Dask said, taking a sip, then briefly pausing to inspect the contents "this isn't the hot stuff"

"It's a new type of soda concocted on this world, I believe it's 'Pen Pal', as I've found, it has a reputation for making things much clearer"

The two gazed at the painting before them.

"Impressive is it not?" he said, "I can't recall the last time I gazed at the full splendor of that image, I never could settle on a title for it, perhaps giving it a name would lessen its value...what kind of name would best suit such beauty? Home to us Neutrinos should be considered a canvas, to depict in any way we deem proper, names give everything a definite pattern. That's why I find criticism so easy on this world...almost everything I've approached in the medium has a name, a definite story, rarely do you find anything that serves as an invitation to the mind's eye, demanding it be splintered"

"I can sense everything about that picture man" Dask said, feeling so much of the imagery wash over him, "Almost like it's really happening"

"I illustrated that picture with this" said Tibbit, handing Dask a small jagged pen knife that let off a faint but sparkling silver glow.

"A hype Knife?" said Dask, "Man, they don't mould these back home anymore, I used to dash about with this and played graffiti all the time when I was a dapper dude in diapers"

"You were probably too young at the time to comprehend it's full majesty, too consumed with living in your own moment rather than live in the moment of your 'doodles'. In more mature hands, the Knife can capture the visual majesty of anything you gaze upon and imprint it on the canvas, on Earth it is no different than filming with a mobile phone or a video camera or taking a photograph...it serves both purposes. It remains a still image on the canvas, but in your mind, it comes to life, giving you a fulfillment that you can't easily put a description or a name too"

"Why haven't you shared this with anyone on this planet man?" said Dask. "Back home you could live like a king making credits off of this"

"Who said I haven't?" said Tibbit

The two were interrupted by a sudden scream, they dashed over to the living area to find Bronze draped over the sofa, which had been tilted over, the door leading outside had been opened.

"He has every right to live in a sewer...he stinks. It all stinks" Kala said, scowling and marching towards the Neutrino's Cadillac parked in the meadow.

"Kala, what's your hang-up babe?" yelled Dask from inside, but Kala refused to indulge his call.

He turned to Zak, who shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know what her deal is man, all she did was look up the Turtles on this pretty hostile hub called twitter" he replied

Kala climbed onto the bonnet of the car, tucked her head deep into her curled-up legs, threw both arms around her face, and, for the first time since the occupation ended, permitted herself a cry.

Fiona waited patiently in her office, browsing through a couple of books, reading a passage on one page, then, midway through, switching to the other book and reading through that passage.

To some, this can lead to a confusing experience, but Fiona was particularly gifted at memorizing passages, so that when she was finished with anything else distracting her, she could resume reading where she left off on the other book. She would occasionally spoon-feed herself these trace amounts of text, locking them away within the recesses of her mind, and bringing them up whenever she had to reiterate them word-for-word at an exhibit when engaging in some speech or other.

Eventually, the intercom buzzed and an eloquent, firm, commanding voice came sliding through

"My office. Now" said Preston Phillips Feldman.

Fiona slowly took a deep intake of breath, closed her books, took a brief pause to neatly tuck away the bursts of knowledge she had gathered from the books into her mind, and calmly walked out of her office and down one of the main galleries towards Preston's office.

As she did so, she caught sight of a small woman wearing a large pink hat and matching coat and frock adjusting her glasses to view an artistic rendering of an alien invasion at a local shopping mall, as lean and large white-hot metal soldiers advance on the ice cream bar of a frightened and perplexed African-American.

"What do you think?" the woman asked. Fiona looked around to see if the woman meant anyone but her.

The woman turned around and pointed at Fiona, twitching her finger to signal that she come closer. Fiona found herself obeying, there was something about this woman, a sense of proper authority.

"Consider this...a mall being attacked by otherworldly creatures, very much eye-candy for the kids, but for the adults, so much more going on here. People in portraits can tell you everything with but a glance, or an action, and sometimes even a presence" the woman said, "An assault by illegal aliens...frightening a man who, in less cultured times, would be considered an illegal alien himself. The aliens, who are all hurrying along, are white as ghosts as well...their laser fire an intense blood red, shooting out small energy ribbons that are tied like lassos, ideal for hanging. You know what the title is? A Race for War. I almost wish the painting had no title, crimes as bleak as this don't need description"

"Sorry, this really isn't my area" Fiona said

"Really now? I thought all artists had to be of a critical mind in order to best flex themselves creatively" said the woman

"Some artists just aren't very good at articulating themselves Ms...sorry, I didn't quite catch your name" Fiona said.

"Agatha Marbles" the woman said, extending her hand

Fiona didn't shake it.

"I'm sorry, as in...Agatha Marbles the private detective? I'm sorry, the museum didn't put in for your services, are you investigating the theft of Mr. Feldman's black labels?"

"I'm investigating the theft of your paintings young woman"

Fiona stepped back a bit, "How could you possibly know...?"

"Your husband got in touch. He told me everything. What he didn't tell me is something only you can supply me with...your side of the story" Marbles continued, prancing around Fiona and eyeing her figure, as if trying to read further into her unsteady body language.

"My husband will be disappointed to hear I have no intention of sharing my story. Please, don't intrude on matters you have little understanding of" asserted Fiona quite sharply.

"I have quite an understanding of you Mrs. Butcher, this isn't the only secret you've been hiding, information that is quite easy to dig up...information is your weakness, it's the weakness of all great men and women.

In the wrong hands, just the tiniest shred of fact can shatter the spell of fiction in the public conscious. You can't imagine just how many people are interested in the truth these days, I believe this is the age of awakening we live in...or however those Aquarius-loving hipsters describe it"

"Please, leave me alone" said Fiona.

"I can't, not with the game afoot and far above the heads of conventional police methods...we're not just looking at a simple art theft, there is nothing 'simple' about the 'black labels', and I intend to find the pattern. You will be hearing from me again Mrs. Butcher. With friends" said Marbles, who, after taking Fiona's hand in a one-sided attempt at a hefty handshake, swiftly disengaged and slowly walked down the gallery towards the exit.

As she walked through the door, Marbles noticed security stopping a young man from taking a bottle of soda in with him, the security guard deposited the drink in the bin before allowing the man to enter.

When the security guard's back was turned, Marbles tip-toed over to the bin and peered inside, amongst the used tissue paper and sweet wrappers was a container of 'Pen Pal' soda.

"...Makes sense they'd keep THAT out of the museum" thought Marbles, and merrily exited the museum with one objective in mind.

To get in touch with her niece

Fiona walked up to Feldman's office at the tail end of the gallery, and entered.

Inside Feldman's office was a string of pictures, and one small portrait with a white sheet thrown over it. Fiona looked at this and sighed.

"You've put a drape on it" she said.

Feldman adjusted his glasses and smiled, "I trust then that it'll motivate you to work harder?"

"That's the way it goes now does it? I don't get to SEE it, let alone HAVE it, unless I bend to your whims?"

Preston took a large pad of paper from the right side of his desk, flicked through a few pages which contained an assortment of notes, and found a blank piece. He ripped the piece out and gave it to Fiona.

"Draw something" he said

"Right now?" asked Fiona

"On the spot" Preston insisted.

Fiona felt her fist clench.

"When...DO I get that back?" she said, looking again at the concealed picture.

"When you're done" said Preston

"I draw...and I get it back?" asked Fiona, "It's THAT simple?"

"Oh no, I didn't mean when you're done with the drawing, I meant when you're done, when you're too old, and much too spent to engage your brain in the precision science of our fun little enterprise"

Fiona gritted her teeth

"So this...this is just for sport?" she said, "This is all that this is to you?"

"I'm letting you be yourself for once. Let that child within come out"

Fiona swallowed her pride and did what Preston wished. She took pen to paper and conjured up a small cat, it took about ten minutes. She handed it to him. He again adjusted his glasses and viewed it

"Head is disproportionate. One eye is slightly bigger than the other, the tail is too crooked, what are those? Feet like that belong on a cow"

"Enough" whispered Fiona.

"I said let the child within out, not let it run rough shot over you" said Preston

"Enough" yelled Fiona, "You know how I am without...what I use"

"And that is why anyone who deduces the truth about you will make that one crucial mistake and realize just how much of a fool they were to take up your cause" Preston softly spoke,

He glanced over to a monitor in the background, and played back Fiona's encounter with Marbles.

"Shall we move away from this subject now and get to the reason I summoned you?" said Preston, taking a bite out of a small crisp bacon sandwich also situated on his desk

"Alright, alright damn you " said an embittered and defeated Fiona, "You'll get your next portrait, just...just show me the code"

Preston smiled, spat part of the bacon out of his mouth, tossed it at Fiona, and then took out a lean sheet of paper, he opened it up and gazed at the sketch.

And, with relish, he looked at the numbers and letters indexed on the sketch.

For Fiona, and for certain other people, this one would take little to no effort at all.

The long corridor, bathed in white and sparkling with emerald brown and green ribbons of energy, graced Michelangelo as, within the confines of his mind, he dashed across the hallway of a huge house, opening various doors and staring into them. Inside each door was a small child, their arms spread wide, small tears running down their faces, their pleas for help ringing through Michelangelo's sensitive hearing.

"Too many doors" he thought, holding his head with both hands to try to drown the cries out, "I didn't know there'd be this many little dudes making the wrong choices"

The children's voices rang through the fibers of Michelangelo's mind, he slowly curled up himself up, he tried to imagine something simple, something domestic, he thought back to Donatello, who he had allowed access to his thoughts through the shared dreamscape that came with an exact practice of deep and complex meditation, he allowed himself to see into Donatello's own memories, aspects he had stored in his memory, and plucked out a simplistic option from the wealth of experiences his brother had.

The dog he gave Irma ran out of one of the doors and danced merrily around Michelangelo's lap, standing up on its back legs and giving him a tender lick.

Michelangelo realized he had opened too many doors, and now he was faced with a terrible choice

Whether or not to close them.

Opening his eyes didn't shut them out, but they did allow him to see his own world again, and to gaze upon the simplistic pleasures of the one anchor he could rely on to steady his course as he came into the harbor.

April. His daring April.

She stood in front of him, her face awash with curiosity and concern, the beach ball firm in her hand, she had discarded her tight white boots and taken to the current of sewer water barefoot, her jumpsuit had been unzipped and pulled down to her waist. She was in a summertime mood and thought Michelangelo was sharing a similar kind of spirit

She could always tell when he was distracted

"Hey, why so solemn?" she said, "Tell me the story here, unless you want me to read it right just by telling everything from your face. This has something to do with your ongoing mental wear and tear with EDX isn't it?"

"Oh, just a panic attack dudette, just a brief scare, sometimes I get so many cries for help from the needier types. I didn't know so many kids had gotten their hands on some of the EDX that got out in the suburban hang-outs...this is like if Santa Claus had a major degree in student counseling. Every one of them needs my help, but I can't do it all at once"

"All the more reason why you should always be having some fun, that way you can confront those kids and the influence of Dregg with a chirpier attitude" April replied, and tossed the ball to Michelangelo

"C'mon, let's play ball" April said. Michelangelo smiled, and tossed the ball back to her, April countered with forming her hands into a singular fist and beating the ball back, Michelangelo intercepted it and leaped into the air, pounding the ball with his own fist, as April beat it back, Michelangelo took the opportunity to tackle her into the water.

The two fell into playful hysterics and, pausing to look into each other's eyes, permitted themselves indulgent and passionate kisses on their tender lips.

"Ah-ahem" interrupted a voice from behind them. The pair turned around to see Raphael

"We interrupt this regularly scheduled session of yuck to bring you a special announcement...you've got family business waiting back at the manor"

April and Michelangelo got up, dried themselves off with a nearby towel April had taken with her, and, once April had suited up, the pair followed Raphael back to the main living area, where Splinter was handing some soothing tea to a special house guest.

As soon as April gazed upon her, she beamed with sheer elation and darted over to the sofa, wrapping her arms around the figure.

"Aunt Agatha, oh it's so good to see you" April said, "Whatever are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

"Investigating the thefts of the black label painting my dear, your current bread and butter...or you do you still prefer some pickles on your life sandwich?" Agatha said, patting April on the back as her hug tightened.

"I don't follow" Michelangelo said

"Remember what color pickles are and make a deduction" said Agatha.

Michelangelo scratched his head before slowly catching on, "oh" he said

"You been reading twitter too huh?" Leonardo asked

"No, last time I saw her about ten months back, she deduced I was seeing Michelangelo" April acknowledged, "It was pretty easy to tell anyway, I'm no good at keeping personal secrets, all my friends and rivals can read into me"

"Reading into people is the key to solving this mystery, I've come to recruit your Turtle friends to help me with the investigation. I've a feeling I'll need some muscle to accompany the mind at work" Agatha said

"Hate to muscle in on that Ms. Mind, but we've got business of our own to conduct with these half-shelled he-men" came a voice from behind the group as the Neutrinos burst into the lair.

"Hey, it's the gnarly newts, awesome to see you guys" Raphael said, dashing over to high-five Zak

"How's things been Dask?" said Leonardo, extending his hand, Dask took it

"Life's as sharp as your swords man, but like I said, business must boom, we need to recruit you guys for a tour of duty in Dimension X" Dask replied

"What do ya know? We're all in demand for once, that hasn't been the case for several of these 'fics now" Raphael remarked

Michelangelo spotted Kala coming in last, her arms were firmly attached to her hip, her head was lowered, her eyes expressed a sad and irksome glare, she stared intently at the floor before looking up and examining the ceiling. Michelangelo walked up to her, motioning to hug her

"Kala, alright, it's super mega to meet up with you again" he said, but Kala held out her hand and halted Michelangelo with her accusing stare, before quickly stomping on his toe. Michelangelo howled in agony as the crunch down commenced.

"Hey, let's not go toe-to-toe here" April said as she darted up to try and pry Kala off of Michelangelo

"Back off reporter, or I'll treat you to a real breaking story" snapped Kala, kicking April in the leg before walking off.

"I can't imagine why you're acting like this" April angrily yelled back, rubbing her leg.

"I can imagine why...who says 'super mega'?" Raphael asked

"Try asking Saban Brands" muttered Michelangelo as he limped around the lair clutching his toe

The wedding reception was loud, many jokes were exchanged at the best man speech, there was laughter, there were tears.

Yet still he couldn't dance.

There was merriment and mayhem as the children all flocked to the dance floor with their mothers and fathers, with the fathers putting on the weirdest dance moves, moving up and down the floor flapping their arms about like sugar-addicted chickens.

And yet still he couldn't sing.

Some of the bride's friends took to the microphone on the podium and belted out some appallingly, high-pitched screeching from their lips, and the reception guests were forced to spend some of their precious minutes covering their ears whilst still enjoying heartfelt and healthy chuckles.

And yet still he couldn't laugh.

Finally, it was his girlfriend that took swift action, she grabbed him by the hand and took him to the lobby. They grabbed their fur coats and exited the building. She took two cigarettes from her pocket and lit them, handing one to her otherwise distracted date.

"Leaving a wedding early...never done that before. At least not with company" she said, clutching her date's hand

"You should go back in. Be amongst the fish, don't sleep with them" said the brash and large man, taking a handkerchief and cleaning his mouth, removing a bit of barbecue sauce picked up from the dinner they had shared earlier when food was being served. They had been eating ribs and Hunter's chicken.

"Anyone ever tell you how alive you seem when you consider yourself dead? Your eyes just light up" said the woman with a sense of finesse and faith in her voice, assured her date didn't mean what he was saying

"You read me like a book, turn one too many pages and you won't like some of the later chapters" the man said.

"Tony Vivaldi, if you think I didn't like the cover, you think I'd be interested in the story?" she said.

"Ah, so this is about looks now is it?" Tony said, grasping his date's shoulders and leaning in to kiss her on the cheek

"It's about everything that reaches you, insisting on your ear, your voice, your wisdom" she said, patting him on the back warmly.

Tony's phone suddenly went off.

"I need to take this" he said

The woman smiled, "A call to duty...that's your story, and why I love to be immersed in it. Take your time, my world is full of it"

Tony smiled and walked off towards the park.

"Is he back?"

"Yeah. Just came back down an hour ago" said the voice on the other end of the phone.

"What did he find?" Tony said

"They were giving him information...but then they started fooling around with him. Said what they were telling him was a joke, nothing to make sense of"

"Are you sure they weren't just talking in riddles? Everything's interpretation with those crumbs" said Tony

"It was a pretty high experience he was on...he's still babbling incoherently about what he was told" the voice continued "It's all about the golden pyramids in the air, about sharing energy emissions with his father...his father's been dead for ten years, but he said he saw him, clear as day"

"When is it your turn?" said Tony

"You know what the deal is, I can't go until we appropriate the next painting" the voice said

Tony stroked his chin and pondered privately to himself, before resuming the call

"I've been in somewhat of a funk since all this started, it just doesn't sit me with me, I reckon you should put him on the juice and start asking him the right questions"

"Boss, is that wise?" said the voice, the tone now one of raw concern.

Tony's temper began to show as his patience wore thin.

"I'm a wise old cur, this is the part of me acting like a cur. Put up and shut up" he snapped.

"Ok boss, you win this 'round...but four guys have went to these darn locations, come back with something different, and we still can't make the right deductions...this better not be wasting any of our time"

"If we play our cards right and nail the correct interpretation, our time will assuredly come" Tony concluded, and switched the phone off.

He turned back to meet up with his date, "You want to get some fries and a burger?" he said

"No time to dance, no time to sing, no time to laugh, but time enough to fill that stomach again?" said the woman in a warm and welcome tone

"You know how it is at the moment with me and the men...it's all about content" Tony said, cracking a faint smile.

The woman grinned, and, arm-in-arm, they walked away from the packed reception.

It had been a taxing few hours for the Turtles.

In between Michelangelo trying to calm down and get through to Kala, whilst simultaneously keeping her and April from making cat calls and even attempting cat scratches at one another, Agatha attempting to plead her case and enlist the Turtles help in the Guggenheim art thefts and the Neutrinos asking for similar help in their own quest to convey the splendor of Dimension X in picture with a little bit of mutated muscle watching their backs, it all proven to be a tad much.

Neutrinos and Turtles were now taking a well earned kip on the sofas while the TV played silently, with only an attentive Agatha watched on as a commercial for Pen Pal Soda came on.

Donatello was the only one managing to stay awake, as he had work to carry out on his own Dimensional portal device. The work had begun feverishly, as time was of the essence, but with everyone winding down as the hours ticked by, he found it much easier to get by and work at a snail's pace, or an average and regular Turtle's pace at best.

Then came the unwelcome intrusion he'd been dreading.

"What are you working on?" asked Kim Sagan as Donatello crammed two micro batteries into a small pocket device which resembled a tuning fork on top of a cylinder with two crooked handles at the left and right sides of it.

"You're not here, you're in my head. Not real" Donatello said

"Pity, the power of illusion makes for a good professional tailor" Sagan said as he examined his threads, a lean crisp white outfit with a glowing red tie.

The world around Donatello shifted into that of a swimming pool centered in the Caribbean. Donatello tried to ignore it

"This is just my rattled mind stretching back over the last few months. It doesn't mean anything" Donatello said

"So you have pictured vacationing here? With your girlfriend?" Sagan asked in a soothing manner that oozed a slimy form of charisma.

Donatello temper swiftly rose.

"Leave her out of this" he said

"I can't can I? You and her, you were part of it all, part of my little downfall" Sagan replied.

"You put yourself under" Donatello snapped back.

"Perhaps I did...but I didn't stop thinking even if I stopped moving...coma patients, oh they can hear every word exchanged to them in a hospital, but they can't reciprocate in verse. Oh no, can't give back any love. You just lie there in a hospital bed while they think of a hundred ways to play God. A hundred possibilities...and then they come up with the one solution that conjures up a thousand" Sagan revealed, "Three little letters, I believe you've heard of them"

"EDX" Donatello said dryly.

"Easy as ABC . They slipped a prism into my hand, pressed down on it, and all of a sudden I was a man with all the keys to the candy shop...'course it got boring a bit quick for me. It was all a dream, I knew that, I'm more precise in living the dream rather than sleep-walk it"

Sagan lay down on a deck chair next to the pool, clicked his fingers, and a beautiful woman with flowing brown locks sporting a bright blue two-piece bathing suit walked up to him carrying a glass of warm water.

Donatello realized it was Irma

"That's enough" he whispered

"Oh don't look so surprised...this is your head in I'm in, I have to settle with the wenches you employ" Sagan said, and took a slurp out of the drink.

He took the time to savor the taste.

"Oh..bitter, she does love a turn of the scotch doesn't she? I wonder if that's because she's content...or still as empty...or maybe, since this is your head, she keeps it around the house for you? You DO work awfully hard"

"How can you be here?" Donatello demanded

"For a long while I wasn't, I could tell I had company. Like I was wired into a conscious internet, I saw so many people tempted, so many give in...and then, HE swooped in, him like a savant silver surfer with wacky cat beach lingo, his word was just and happening, and oh he saved them all...and then he tried to better himself, and that's when he invited you in"

"The shared meditation" Donatello realized

"I hung around, we can all do that, the young ones, they taught me that, there's a reason the peddlers always target the youth market, they realize everything before the rest of us do. I watched as...Mikey, that's who you call him right? I watched as he came in to teach them just to say no, something corny, something that set them all back, and most of the time it worked. That's the drawback about kids, they can be conditioned so well if the guiding hand is as radical as they are"

"So you crept into Michelangelo's head, and found me waiting" Donatello said

"I hitched a ride, and now I'm keeping you afloat, the thorn in your side...would be funny, would be appropriate, but you're too busy. And frankly so should I. So we'll play a game. A very short game if necessary. You want to know the title?"

Sagan got up and walked over to Donatello, he pulled himself closer and whispered "Wake up" to the Turtle before gently shoving him into the pool

Donatello felt an electric shock as his eyes snapped open and he realized he put his finger on a live terminal stored in the device. The cry alerted the other Turtles and their guests

"You ok Donatello?" asked Leonardo.

"More than ok, it's done" Donatello said, "This device I've prepared will access and open a direct communion with my portal on this end of reality, allowing us to come through it at any juncture at any point in Dimension X"

"Digging your groove there Don" said Dask

"Now, we better get a move on, only so many hours left before our deadline"

"Where do we even start? You worked out the riddles we were given or what?" said Zak.

"All the answers we'll need lie back on Denzreneigh" said Dask, before clasping his mouth, as if he had just said something he wasn't meant to say.

"Denzreneigh?" said Kala, "Where's that?"

"It's in the father fields of Dimension X. Co-ordinates are 4AVCV32" he said, clutching his mouth again.

"You ok?" said Zak

"I don't know, I suddenly have an urge to tell you all things I shouldn't be" said Dask.

"Well whatever the reason for telling us, it sounds like you know your way around this place...I've never heard of it, or the father fields, and Dimension X Is our happening" said Kala, "And right now, given the stench of the sewer and the company my Mike is keeping, I could do with a happening place"

"Don't think for an instant I'm letting Mike out of my sight on this trip Kala, I'm tagging along. We need to have a bit of a girl talk, and Mike needs to learn firsthand the kind of issues that can come between suitors"

"Can't I just stay home and do the washing up while you two go out and talk shop?" Michelangelo asked

"It's a domestic learning curb honey, you'll thank me later" April said

"In the meantime, I'll stay behind and help your aunt with the art theft case April" Leonardo said

"I insist Raphael stay behind too" Agatha said

"Me? What am I, the red-bandana league to you or something?" Raphael said

"I need someone with just the right bit of honesty written all over their faces" said Agatha, holding a crunched-up can of Pen Pal soda in front of him

"Oh" Raphael said.

Donatello punched in the co-ordinates supplied by Dask into the dimensional controller and pressed a few buttons, a tear in the fabric of reality ripped wide open.

"What are we waiting for? Let's paint this pretty picture already" said Zak, taking the blank canvas supplied to them by Tibet and Bronze and carrying it into the portal, swiftly followed by Michelangelo, April, Kala, and a slightly hesitating Desk, who was welding the hyper-knife.

Donatello bid Leonardo and Raphael farewell, and, somewhere, in the back of his head, Sagan also joined in and bid them adieu mockingly.

The game was Wake up

The winner would have to be very alert.

As he entered the portal, Donatello knew that, deep down, the acquisition of dreams to come would be rich in abundance if he were to succeed, but for now, he would have to say goodnight to restful nights.

"Are you certain the drink worked?" said Bronze as Tibet browsed through a selection of books in his study, carefully selecting the second of the House of Cards trilogy, "To Play the King"

"He was exceptionally delicate before he and his friends moved out, I did test him before he left though, I asked him what he thought of the riddles I had given him and he, in a most immediate manner, answered with a location I don't think you've heard of before"

"But it's one you are familiar with?" asked Bronze, taking the opportunity to sit on the warm armchair besides Tibet's desk. He looked at the gallery of paintings before him and allowed himself to be taken in by their abstract and adoring imagery.

"I am familiar with it...but it is but a thought that errantly passes from year to year, I don't dwell too much on the mysteries of our home realm"

"Damn it man, that's a poor mentality" Bronze angrily spoke, "One must always think of home comforts and what they have learned being around them, it helps sharpen our critical eye. What we are familiar with we can use to examine illustrations that can appear so strange and perplexing to us. An outsider looking in"

Bronze got up from the seat, no longer feeling comfortable in it.

Tibet poured a glass for Bronze, "Do you wish to make an impactful statement?" he asked, handing Bronze the drink.

"No, no I know what you've poured into that, no, I will be true to myself, as you should hold true to your own convictions and ideas, don't let truth dictate every course of action or word you indulge in. Truth can very easily hurt and serve to even more harshly offend"

"So you could say I've launched somewhat of an offense on our young Neutrinos?" joked Tibbit

Bronze didn't feel like joining in the joke, he failed to see the humor, "I just hope they'll be safe...how long does that concoction last anyway?"

"On a consistent dose, as long as you desire a taste of it...on one sip, about five hours. Time is delicate in Dimension X so it could stretch to days based off that one drink"

"Fantastic, the poor child will be an open book before long" said a slightly perturbed Bronze, "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll pour myself something much more normal...and stronger" he said, walking out of the study and towards the kitchen

Tibbit gazed at the glass he had offered Bronze, and took a small sip himself. He stared blankly up at the gallery of paintings above the study area, then glanced at something that caught his eye

"Yes, this is a refreshment, where it comes from? I could so easily tell you, couldn't I? I've taken in a small dose, I should be upfront any second now...best run along before I tell you. Or maybe you would like be to more truthful about the world of Denzreneigh?

Why it's so important to our young Neutrino friend, and to me...or would you rather I discuss the passion for critique? It's funny, I've never been particularly good at elaboration of any kind, I just know how to word things impeccably, words are very precise, it doesn't fool everyone, and that's ok, I quite like that I have enemies, people who revel in the format of character assassination, it's an art in itself, it just doesn't take pictures to convey.

I dance merrily around the words I use in my review, I never have an absolute understanding of the various way in which they function. Casual awareness is what gets me through the article, but then the article is read by the casual mind is it not? Many of them never comprehend anything after browsing the page, they just move on to the funnies and the daily crossword puzzle, they pick their brains over the most common puzzles that the biggest mystery, the mystery of whether or not the accomplished types are any more intelligent than they are, flies right over their heads.

I laugh at it. Daily.

Do you feel insulted? Some of you might, don't worry, if I mean any offense I apologize...this isn't usually how I function. It's the drink talking.

Truth be told, all drinks make you act this way. Eventually.

Once everyone grasps that, I don't think this stuff will sell too well at all.

I'd elaborate more, but you and I both know that winging it with words is best.

Back to our regular scheduled program now"

With that, Tibbit downed the whole drink in one go, went over to his study door and hastily locked it.

"What do you mean she's out?" said Agatha over the phone as she and the two Turtles made their way to the Guggenheim Museum at the break of dawn

"Deadlines. She has to get the next painting ready for this weekend" said Cade Butcher from the living area. One eye was trained on Tony-Ren as he curled up, headphones in his ears, trying his best to recite a passage of text despite his handicap. Cade wanted to spend most of his waking hours with him rather than detail his wife's whereabouts to the detective, but he knew how urgent the case was becoming.

"We need her in the vicinity, I had a little experiment ready for her" said Agatha, holding up a cup of Pen Pal soda in her hand before tossing it to Raphael

"What kind of experiment? You're a detective not a science whiz" said Cade

"Never mind, I'm sure I'll find a willing replacement volunteer" said Agatha, "Inform me of when she returns with her latest burst of inspiration"

"Will do" Cade said.

Agatha switched off the phone and she, Raphael, and Leonardo entered the museum

"Best take in one gulp, they don't permit that drink in here" said Agatha.

Raphael obliged and drank the soda as quickly as possible before tossing it into the trash can.

"Where do we start? The Dada gallery?" Leonardo said

"Why would anyone want to name a gallery after a baby's meek attempts at saying 'Daddy?'" asked Raphael

"No, Dada's an irreverent art form...nonsense paintings that defy reason and logic. It was a movement created after experiencing the horrors of the first world war" Leonardo replied.

"The Black Labels were set to have their own gallery from what I hear" Agatha said, "Only one labeled painting currently resides in the location of that planned ensemble, it was put there at the insistence of Mr. Feldman shortly before the paintings were stolen...the title is Survival of the Silver"

"Hopefully this isn't quite as black and white case and we strike gold with it" Raphael remarked.

The three made their way over to the gallery and examined the painting in the centre of the room.

It was a picture of a young boy looking into the luminous screen of his laptop computer as giant silver spirals shot forth out of the sides of the machine.

High above him, two grey alien figures hold out their hands and pour electrical currents his head, one alien has a sizeable grin etched all over his face, while another is laughing out loud altogether.

"What do you make of it?" said Agatha

"It's like they're giving him the secrets of the universe...but are mocking him at the same time, like he doesn't deserve to have this knowledge" Leonardo said, "Kind of cruel actually, to give someone an epiphany only to pull the rug out from under him, it creates a sense of distrust, and what if their intentions are known to the boy because of the info being dumped into his head?"

"Maybe all the info being plugged into his socket is the universe's largest joke book database" Raphael replied.

"Take this seriously Raphael" Leonardo snipped.

"Hey, you said it yourself, there's no rhyme or reason to paintings like this" Raphael said, "And I'm as ever the voice of zero reason"

"Is that why you took to Twitter so readily?" inquired Agatha

"Yeah" Raphael replied, then realized what he said

"And that's why you spilled the beans, well, I imagine you spilled something more than beans, on the new laptop computer that Irma bought for Donatello for his birthday?" continued Agatha

"Got it in one...but how...?" Raphael said

"I noticed the sticky stains on an open laptop when I entered the lair, add that to the discarded container of Pen Pal Soda lying on the floor within a close proximity of it and I had all the evidence I needed to evaluate a little mini-mystery to pull me into the zone.

In a way, I'm glad I've ended up with the company I'm keeping. One needs to get something off his chest and the other is a most tactful sort of disciplinarian that can put you in your place while being understanding and restrained at the same time, whereas the other two Turtles would be too wild and upset to offer you a kindlier reception, now stop beating around the bush and tell Leonardo why you leaked out the fact my niece is dating your brother and we can get back to work"

Leonardo looked on at Raphael, his face completely aghast.

Raphael wanted to slide his head beneath his shell in shame.

"I wasn't thinking all the way alright? I'd gotten really addicted to that soda and wanted something to give my twitter account a bit of a hook , to get trending, to get everyone talking about us again, I think it's past due we were relevant, I wanted us to be more accepted. I figured at the time if people knew April was dating Mikey, it would break the ice a little...and it got a lot of good reception at the time, really it did, I managed to get members of the public to really trust us again because we were more open"

"In any other reality, I'd say we were meant to be shadows, but I'd have been open to this if you had just consulted everyone before you went online...bad enough you borrowed Donatello's computer and broke his trust like that, you targeted Michelangelo when he was at his most vulnerable with April" Leonardo replied, the raw hurt engraved all over his facial mannerisms while struggling to maintain a level temper.

"April doesn't mind people knowing" Raphael argued back, "All these mixed messages are difficult to handle...like going in two directions when the lights go green and red and then green and red have a fight to determine who comes out on top"

"Now who's being Dada?" Leonardo snapped back

"Of course" said Agatha, "You two, pipe down, I think I've solved this"

"What did you see?" Leonardo asked

"It's the tiniest detail...and to the naked eye, would be too easily taken for granted...the most basic, normal thing about this painting...the letters and numbers on the computer"

"Hey, I know those assortments, they're not just random letters and numbers, they're co-ordinates" said Raphael.

"Exactly. This painting is here for one reason...it's acting like a catalogue of sorts, whenever a black label painting is stolen, it must have something to do with this, this painting hasn't been stolen because the thieves use it as a reference point when stealing all the others" Agatha deduced.

"Perhaps the black label paintings contain imagery found in these co-ordinates" Leonardo said

"Good deduction there Leonardo. We ought to get hopping over to the local library and check out some articles on the black labels as well as any reference photos of them, come along everyone" said Agatha

"This'll be a tough one" Raphael said

"Oh we'll crack this case in record time and no mistake" assured Agatha

"No, it's just...now that I've drank the soda, I'm going to have to confess to the librarians I have nine month overdue books back home"

As the molten suns of planet Denzreneigh rose above the glowing velvet sky, Dask found himself awakening from a dreamless sleep. Lying on the salty and sandy beach, he realized as he swiftly stirred that he'd been buried up to his neck in sand. He aggressively rose up and dusted himself off and stormed off to find the likely suspect behind it in Zak.

Nearby, Donatello was cooling off, dipping his feet in a rock pool, lost in thought. He didn't want to pester anyone with his current troubles with Sagan, but a part of him wondered just how effective he could prove to be if he were required to spring into action.

The tense mental and physical lock-ups, if they lasted long enough, could even cost him his precious hours spent helping Michelangelo control the situations within his mental mainframe

Michelangelo and April had taken the time to take a swift stroll along the beachfront area of the planet, taking in the warm air. April took a pair of sunglasses out of her jumpsuit pocket and placed them on her eyes as she gazed out to the velvet horizon.

She dipped her finger in the sea to test its temperature. She reeled back as a searing sensation jolted through her arm

"It'll roast you. Best not take a dip" she said.

"If you can't stand the heat, get back in the kitchen" said a voice from behind the pair of them. April and Michelangelo turned to find Kala standing before them in an imposing looking pose, her hands on her hips and her one leg crossed over the other, she leaned forward, her striking eyes staring intently into April

"Here to cook up more trouble Kala?" said April

"You shouldn't be telling my Mikey what to do, he's played with fire enough times not to get burned, and he's saved your bacon from being fried enough times for you to know that"

"Are you implying I can't look after myself?"

"You've always been in one distressful situation after another damsel, always waiting for your handsome prince to save you...if he were shacking with a happening cat like me, he wouldn't need to bail me out, we'd ride and rattle the tempest together" Kala snapped back

"If I were a lesser woman, I'd take that whipped cream curl you call a hair style and straighten it out with pliers" April replied.

Michelangelo was at his wits end with all the drama unfolding between his two lovesick ladies.

"I've heard about the birds and the bees...but I never thought I'd end up with a family of wasps" Michelangelo said in dismay, blissfully unaware of a large tentacle slithering out of the water and wrapping around his leg.

By the time he sensed what was going on, he was hoisted upwards by the tentacle. April and Kala watched in horror as a tall, cacti-like plant creature, spewing out minuscule seeds from atop its massive frame, emerged from the water.

The remaining Neutrinos and Donatello were alerted to the situation as Michelangelo yelped in pain, the intense warmth from the plant creature dwelling in the boiling water turning the sweat on his body to literal steam.

"Hurry dudettes, I'm not mad, but I'm fuming" Michelangelo yelled

Donatello froze up, uncertain of what to do as Sagan intruded on his state of mind once again

"You want to cut your brother loose...but you don't want to wake anyone up?" Sagan taunted from inside the quieter corners of Donatello's head.

"Stop it" Donatello yelled aloud.

"Donatello, snap out of it, we've got to help him" April said

"I...I can't" Donatello whispered, "I can't focus"

April hastily grabbed Donatello's Bo staff and snapped it in two, she tossed one half to Kala and ran up to the right side of the plant

"On three, one two..." April said, Kala swiftly stabbed the plant with the broken half of the staff, it's splintered and sharpened wood piercing into the creature, causing vile black ooze to pour out.

"Wait 'till THREE" April snapped.

"There's only two of us carrying the big sticks and speaking softly...Neutrino logic. Beats Earth logic every time"

April sighed and stuck the other side of the staff into the plant. It howled in agony and spewed out a trillion seeds from its massive mouth, which poured down on the two girls.

Finally, it let go of Michelangelo and slithered back into the ocean.

"Next time, follow my lead" April said to Kala as she tended to Michelangelo, who was tenderly rubbing a slightly bruised butt

"Oh so you think you can put a leash on me? I am not one for domesticating" Kala angrily quipped

"Just trying to plant some seeds, you could do with being a little more in control, especially if you want to impress Mike here" April continued

"Plant seeds? Hey, that's one of the clues we were given by those critic coons" said Kala, looking at the seeds regurgitated by the plant. "I wonder what it means?"

"Wait until sunset, you'll get your answer there when the city rises" said Dask

"How do you know so much about this place?" said Kala.

"I was born here" admitted Dask.

Rocksteady couldn't believe it. He had lost another ten bucks, all because he couldn't tell a lie while under the influence of what he was drinking. Bebop had bet that he would be able to hold his tongue on details of his past when playing a game of dare with the Pen Pal soda. Bebop was able to keep quiet, but Rocksteady was nothing but an open book. Rocksteady later figured out that Bebop hadn't taken the soda, instead drinking regular cola.

He looked out of a small porthole in his bedroom that overlooked the beautiful grey landscape of the moon, the present location of The Technodrome.

Many a spectator on Earth would point to the small lunar sphere and think 'It's nothing all that special, is it?", the combination of curiosity and manageable expectation very often has led to so many future space explorers becoming more and more interested in seeing just what kind of pull the moon had over them.

Some were content to just theorize, believing the moon was in fact a secret base from which aliens secretly controlled the Earth, influencing politicians and brainwashing the average population.

Thing is, the theorists were right, they were just a little too early to call it. Now that they were present, all it would take would be for someone to come up here and find where they were.

The Technodrome's location was concealed via a cloaking device, but Krang was not content to shield himself from detection.

He often found playing with people's curiosity a true challenge and would send out small signals to attract the attention of manned NASA missions to the moon to investigate their sources.

Whenever someone arrived, he would have them captured and brought to him for experimentation, brainwashed, and then sent back to Earth, carrying with them anything Krang had been conjuring up in the upgraded labs found across the base.

Rocksteady heard a buzz coming from his bedroom doorbell. He walked over to the intercom and activated it.

"What is it?" he asked

"We caught another pair of astro nut-jobs snooping about the place, we're bringing them in, want to come with me?" Bebop said

"After you milking me dry of my money? No way am I playing around with you" Rocksteady said

"But they have a lunar buggy" Bebop said. Rocksteady smiled.

Within fifteen minutes, the pair of them had forgotten about their game of dare and, attired in spacesuits that were less than accommodating for their build and size, were leaving moon dust in the Foot Soldiers tracks as they lead them back to the Technodrome.

Rocksteady felt the adrenaline kick in, he felt this was the only truth he was ever keen to know...the sheer indulgence and play to be had in pure chaos.

Bebop shared his vision, feverishly steering the lunar buggy left and right and then around and around in wild circles, coating the area in fountains of dust, before speeding back towards the entrance to the Techodrome and darting past the Foot Soldiers leading the explorers back into the base.

It also helped that the pair of them didn't have their usual governor going full throttle on them, leaving them to play full throttle with anything they could put foot to peddle to. Krang was too preoccupied with other things.

They weren't exactly clear on where Shredder had gone to in the last couple of days, only that he had been working on a refined training regiment and had built himself up in stamina and size, possibly even making use of the genetic enhancements that had been developed in the labs, but they didn't want to really probe too much into what their boss was up to, and if it meant more business than pleasure, they couldn't care less.

Finally, Rocksteady and Bebop abandoned the buggy and made their way over to the labs themselves, where Krang was already hard at work on his latest batch of prisoners.

The Foot Soldiers removing their space helmets and thrusting them down on to a cold and mercilessly hard steel table, keeping their necks steady with a vice like grip.

Krang, operating a control console connected to a huge vat of green liquid, produced two syringes from a compartment in the console and approached the explorers.

"What are you needling them for Krang?" joked Rocksteady

"Oh go and drive something else crazy other than me" Krang said, holding up a canister of green liquid and pouring some of it into the pair of syringes.

"Looks like he's playing another game of truth or consequences" Bebop replied.

"I'm trying to stabilize the pen pal formula within the bloodstream indefinitely. By taking it in its soda form, it's mostly digested and filters out of the body after only a few hours"

"Why do they have to tell the truth so much? Life's so much easier if it's one big lie" Rocksteady complained.

"The Truther movement is catching on in society you mutant mudpies...the world is on the brink of revolution, you see it in various countries all the time, people are demanding honesty, accountability, and as the old saying goes, the truth always hurts. Imagine just what sort of scale a massive truth telling would entail and mean for the public, we will see a toppling of one depressingly short-sighted attempt at a new world order and instead see the rise of a new republic, once that occurs, I will filter the pen pal formula into their systems, and before long their dirty laundry will come out...there is never any true peace movement, everything is compromise and conspiracy, and when everyone realizes that, they will beg for a release from the burden of truth, that is where we again come in and monopolize the bid for a cure. I will control what comes in and out of humanity's mouths, all for a percentage of profit that will go to our more advanced projects"

"Is that where my pay day went?" snapped Rocksteady

"When do we ever get paid? That was monopoly money you lost you big dummy" corrected Bebop.

Krang injected the back of the explorer's necks with the syringe's contents and, after applying a couple of flesh-like microdots to their necks, he instructed the Foot Soldiers to take them to the processing chamber to have their minds altered so they retained no memory of these events.

"Now with the soda stimulate inside their bloodstream, and with these small surveillance microdots attached to their bodies, we shall monitor their honesty output with great interest... when Shredder told me this idea worked only on paper, he never dreamed I would add PEN to said paper" Krang cackled

"I guess that's our cue for this show's obligatory 80s villain group laugh" Bebop said

"Yeah, even when the joke is pretty terrible" Rocksteady replied

Krang gave the rhino a cruel glare.

"I think that soda you drank hasn't quite kicked out of your system" Bebop said

And before long, both mutants found themselves hoisted up by the Foot soldiers and kicked out of the lab.

Michelangelo's designs were on food.

Nothing else was going to marvel him this day.

Not even what he and the others had witnessed at sunset. That rich, bright colorful sunset, an ignition of sparkling silver and velvet before the evening kicked in. The planet was coated in a golden and grey hue, and as it did, the seeds spewed out by the plant that attacked Michelangelo earlier splintered and cracked open, and taking root from them was a mix of steel and glass, concrete and wood, fountains and footpaths.

A living, breathing city had taken root all around the group, with its populace going about as if they had taken steps across it's streets all their lives and not for just a couple of minutes.

Dask described this as, the place where he was born, as a city that had one mission statement: To explain.

This would of course be a daunting task considering nobody in the city could talk, nobody knew how to, they had been born into this world with a specific instruction, to act like an average everyday community, mind nobody's business, and focus on their brief filtration with life, for this city was nothing more than a mayfly moment, an event that lived for a day, and when it collapsed in on itself, it would take everyone within its parameters with it.

Some occasionally make it out, some eventually find their way off this world, as Dask and his family had done, they and a few other survivors had been picked up by passing Neutrino colonies, back when visiting this perimeter of Dimension X was legal...back when Neutrinos used the planet to grow and expand their population.

The father fields were ripe for harvesting back then.

All this marvelous, yet beautifully tragic majesty, however, could not distract Michelangelo from what he considered the true draw of the city, it's rich abundance in food. Regardless of the deficiencies in their vocal abilities, the city's residents knew how to make a meal, and inside one of the city's restaurants, the energetic mutant had taken the opportunity to taste some of what was on offer.

At April's insistence, Michelangelo had opted to spend these moments with Kala, to try and smooth things over with her before she and April got more rough with each other.

The conversation at the dinner table was ripe with energy and laughter as the two reminisced on old times and learned of each other's new experiences in the years spent apart. Michelangelo felt more at ease around her now.

April watched him from the other table. She refused to eat anything, she was happy for her loyal companion having such a good time

To the right of her was Donatello, who was again troubled, he was frequently rubbing his forehead with his hands, closing his eyes and muttering unintelligible chants, occasionally breaking out into verbal cries of" "Snap out of it, wake up Donny...come on, wake up from this"

April wanted to comfort him, let him know everything was alright, but Donatello was lost in his own little world.

"Oh stop it Mikey, you're cracking me up" Kala said as Michelangelo finished another joke which she couldn't help but enjoy, even by standards on Earth, it wouldn't raise a chuckle in the hardest to entertain of variety clubs

"Better to crack open a smile than my girlfriend's head" Michelangelo said. Kala sighed

"I guess...I guess I never pictured you as someone who would...move with the times, time is so slow in Dimension X, it's like the party never ends, but I guess where you come from, there comes a time where there has to be something more added to the party...you really like April don't you? It's all over your face, I've never seen such joy in you before"

"Yeah, sometimes I think she'd be better suited for someone like Donatello or someone, I'll never quite know what she sees in me, recently I've even tried talking a little or a lot like Donny in some adventures, a self-confidence thing, it's radical, but it exhausts and taxes me vocally. I should really settle on being myself"

"I think she'd appreciate that Mike, just as I appreciate you, and...if you want me to, I guess I can appreciate whatever, and whoever, makes you happy also"

"So we're cool?" Michelangelo asked

"I'll go one better...we're warm" said Kala.

Hearing that, April walked over to the table, and hugged Kala before planting a warm kiss on Michelangelo's cheek. Everyone else in the restaurant that had been looking on applauded and saluted the pair.

Dask glared at the hyper-knife, and looked at the large sheet of white canvas, he had already drawn the seeds that had grown the city on it.

He pondered the remaining riddles he had been given.

See without seeing, hear a great hand, take the salute, walk through the ages, and transmit the impossible

He knew the answers. And he knew he had but a day to put pen to paper and jot them down in illustration.

That task had to begin now.

For this was not just a restaurant where citizens would come to dine...this was a restaurant where people gathered to understand and appreciate action and consequence, they didn't speak, but they could still observe, and they had just observed a moment that matched the peace and serenity they were consistently feeling over the course of their day, which would last until the city collapsed

Dask had heard the great hand of applause, and now, by drawing the citizen that had given April and Michelangelo a salute, he had taken it from the person and intended to share it on canvas.

Three riddles down.

Plenty more to come.

Agatha deposited a vast stack of books onto a large desk as she, Leonardo and Raphael mined the local library's arts and crafts section, looking for information on the black labels

"These articles date all the way back to the inception of the labels" she said, opening up one of the books, an archive of newspaper clippings reviewing the mysterious illustrations.

"Thanks bundles Agatha, now maybe we can put this to bed and I can take off from town" said Leonardo

"Come again?" said Raphael.

"I've been thinking, perhaps I need a vacation...go somewhere a lot more remote than here...I need to revaluate who I am as a leader, so many of us are going in different directions, I feel I've lost control of the flock"

"Hey 'Leo Bo Beep, get serious, it's life, things happen, we keep moving"

"But are you remembering who you used to be? Do you keep that in mind? Spilling April and Michelangelo's relationship online just to get a few likes and more added to your friends list isn't at all like you, and then there's Mikey trying to act as smart as Donatello knowing full well he doesn't quite have the head for it, Donatello with his connections to A.P.E, confiding more in them and Irma than consulting with me or any of you.

You're all moving in different directions, albeit moving at a slow rate, but with each crawl, each turn, sweeping changes are becoming immediately noticeable. It may be life, but someone's got to hold your hands and lead us through it. I can't do that at the moment, I need time to sort out where everyone's going and remember what brought us together through the years"

"And drifting off is going to solve that? Sounds like another of your trademark confidence crashes" Raphael remarked

"You two can talk shop about your life priorities another time, I think I've just found the life at the heart of this mystery" Agatha replied, pointing to one of the paintings

"This review is of the first painting" Agatha continued "It shows a police interceptor helicopter flying high above Normandy hospital, besides that, there is a lone figure standing atop the hospital rooftop holding a baby in their arms with a group of doctors, nurses, and firemen all steadily approaching the figure with accusing fingers and outstretched arms.

Beside the hospital is a large crooked oak tree, the helicopter may look like it's hanging above the air but the review tells us to look even more closely at it, there is a small wire dangling from it that leads into the tree. The review interprets this as the 'branch of the law'"

"So what does all this have to do with the black labels being stolen?" Raphael said

"Think about it, this was the first painting, and the reference portrait we studied had the precise co-ordinates for Normandy hospital on the computer screen, in fact, they're the first set seen, why do you suppose that is? What significance is this to the artist?"

"Fiona must have witnessed some sort of crime being committed at the hospital, a failed attempt at a child abduction" Leonardo replied, "But there would have been something on the news about that wouldn't have there?

"Art is always intended to convey a message, this was sent out as a signal, and whilst the review interprets this a blend of emergency services, displaying the joint prowess of duty and care represented by the police and the doctors, the painting, for my money, represents a more vital message...after all, why would someone openly defy the law and medical personnel and try to abduct a child? What principle motivates these types of people?"

"The urge to raise the next Al Capone?" said Raphael.

"Family" Leonardo said, "The abductor is family"

"Well done Leonardo, the abductor is stealing the child because that person is a wanted fugitive and wants merely access to a crucial mistake, the mistake of giving someone unconditional love and not being to care for the results of their fruitful labors"

"So Fiona was making a personal statement about how the hospital cares for you, the law protects you, and your family can abuse you"

"It figures, the painting may sounds larger than life, but Mrs. Butcher sure as sugar needs to shrink on this subject. As in 'see one'"

"She must not have had a happy upbringing" replied Leonardo

"Her upbringing is exactly why the paintings are being stolen...don't you see? It's a signal she's sending out to her family...a family who are known for sitting on the wrong side of the tracks. It's that family that are taking the remaining paintings. We need to study the remaining illustrations and pinpoint their exact meanings rather than rely on the reviews, everything is interpretive about them, the key to figuring this out is to deduce what the people stealing the portraits are trying to figure out"

Agatha took out her phone and made an urgent call.

"Ah Mr. Butcher, how are you?" Agatha said over the phone, "You don't mind us dropping over for tea do you? I was wondering if you wouldn't mind granting me access to some of your family albums..."

As the Neutrinos and Turtles walked amongst the bustling marketplace of the planet, April took some delight in pointing out and gawking at a line of precious young infants, children, teenagers, middle-aged men, and elderly folk, all standing at various stalls, with their hands outstretched, their eyes glancing at the food and toys on display in the stalls

"It's like we're walking through the ages, you've got to depict this in your portrait Dask" April suggested

"That I will, it's one of the riddles, but be careful there Mss. April babe, those types of cats are quite psychic. One thing about being a visitor to this mayfly city is, while the citizens are not consciously aware that their time is limited until time catches up with them, they can, on a subconscious level, register anomalies in the city, and through that they become aware of a greater world beyond the one they know. They line up like this to showcase their abilities, not just to grow and change, but also how they can offer their goods and services. Me and my family were just like that when pirate traders came calling"

"Pirate traders?" April asked

"Oh you'll get plenty of them, that's how I retained my memory of this place. When the law passed down to ban all visitations to this planet, we were instructed to have our memories significantly altered, previously we had used the technology to recondition hardened criminals to be productive partiers in our society, they decided to use the same technology so we couldn't retain knowledge of where this planet is, but one pirate who took kindly to us when we were able to flee the mayfly city gave me a device that could jam, well, any conscious memory jammer. He thought I had the makings of a fine trader one day given the attitude I was displaying.."

Michelangelo began waving his hand in front of one of the elders, who continued to avert his gaze back over to the stall, not really registering Michelangelo's attempts at making him react

"Don't do that Mike, it's rude" said Donatello.

"Hey, Raphael is the rude dude man, I'm just reminding myself of our European vacation with the royal guards at Buckingham" said Michelangelo, "Besides, their silent treatment is a lot more interesting than yours have been"

"I'm sorry Michelangelo, really, I wish I could explain it, but it's not something you need be concerned with" Donatello replied

"Hey, if anything's up with you, I'll here to take a bullet for it" Michelangelo said

"Oh we'll put that to the test" intruded the voice of Kim Sagan.

Donatello broke from conversing with Michelangelo and closed his eyes. He found himself in a vast library, browsing through an assortment of books and notes.

"What's happening now?" Donatello asked, "Whatever you're up to, don't drag my brothers into this"

"You're still trying to make an echo, but all you can offer is a whisper, such a pity" said Sagan as his face materialized on one book, one on nursery rhymes, across the features of an illustration of Little Bo Beep.

"Could you help little me? I've lost my herd and I not know where to find them...I hope the dogs haven't' gotten to them. Nasty, vindictive little things. The ones in Michelangelo's head. Oh he wasn't about the people he's had to contend with in that little head of his...and how little it is, pfft, no wonder he's been trying to act like you. All big and important, you'd have made a much better champion to contend against the dregs of society, you're probably jealous he gets all the hard work...and that he has that fox of a reporter to come home to. Woof"

"Stop it, stop it now, I have a girl, I have a purpose, I don't need to imprint myself on anyone else's life" Donatello insisted.

"Then why did you offer to help Michelangelo cope with his crisis? Was going A.P.E too boring for you? Face it, you Turtles are like parasites, you leech off of whatever we ordinary humans do and feel so over-privileged you don't know what to do with success when you get it, sometimes you don't even know what you're saying. I could easily blame lazy writers trying to imprint their own beliefs on you, but where would the drama lie if I started to believe that? This isn't a cartoon you and I are living in...not the ones you're used to. You're changing. Each and every day, every solitary second, you're losing your own identity, and all you have to do is WAKE UP and realize that"

"Keep it up Sagan, soon you'll make enough of a noise and my friends will register what's going on, I'd love to see the look on your face when you wake up to that" Donatello said defiantly.

"Oh, now he's getting it...well, not exactly 'getting it', but that little piece of him that's so tiny and stupid and proud is starting to play the game my way. What fun. Say it again...what do you want me to do?"

"Wake up. You hear me Sagan? We'll find a way to beat you. We always figure out a way. We're the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I'm their mother of invention. I'll create a means of confronting you and I'll cure myself of you with everyone I know and love, including Irma, backing me. Wake up to that Sagan. WAKE. UP"

"...All I ever needed to hear. Thank you. Bless you" said Saga.

Donatello felt a burst of adrenaline, he began breathing a lot quicker, he gasped for air and grabbed onto to Michelangelo, taking sharp intakes of breath and clutching his chest

"You ok dude? You sound like you got out of bed with a porcupine lodged up your shell" asked Michelangelo

"I...he's gone. Mikey, he's gone, I can feel it. In my head. There's nothing there"

"Don't know much about 'him', whoever you're talking about, but Raphael says that about me all the time...glad to hear I'm not alone. I'll make sense of you later, right now I'm longing for my daily doze. Any chance we can nip this visit in the bud before the city stands on its last legs Dask?" asked Michelangelo.

"Don't worry Mike, I only have two more riddles.." Dask said, fidgeting about in his pocket and taking out a small broach with a crimson jewel attached to the top of it. He smiled as he gazed upon it, awash with a private sensation of nostalgia.

"Now that I've realized just what's going on, what the true nature of this assignment is, it's less a riddle and more of a request...to transmit the impossible...we're going to alert the Neutrino home world that the father fields are active. We're going to save what we can before the place collapses, and then we're going to get out of here"

"Wait, are you trying to tell me there was an ulterior, illegal motive to what those art critics wanted us to do? That sounds so darn dangerous it's delectable" said Kala, rubbing her hands with relish.

Dask pressed his thumb hard on the broach, the crimson jewel suddenly lit up

"What's with the fancy jewel?" April asked

"Something given to me by the traders that came to my family's aid when we got off this world. It should lead the current generations who might not be aware of this place back to it" Dask revealed, "Now all I have to figure out is what 'see without seeing' meant" Dask continued

"Tell me about it, I see things where others don't all the time...and unlike some, it don't start at 4:20" said Michelangelo.

Everyone looked at him

"What?" said Michelangelo, genuinely befuddled

"Mikey, you simple sweetheart, you've all but guaranteed us an early trip back home" said April, kissing him on the forehead.

"Hey, it's an art" said Michelangelo, blushing.

Fiona was just about finished. The detail was precise, the location untainted by any passing member of the public. She wondered how much of that was down to luck, or by appropriate scheduling from those that absorbed her work.

Her phone went off. She answered.

"What now?" she said, irritated that this was now the fifth call she had to take, the only thing that was frequently interrupting her as she tried to capture the majesty of the splendid rocky mountain structures.

Two of the calls had been Feldman simply telling her to "hurry up". Both calls had come seconds after the other, and before she had even sat down to start drawing at the first site she had visited, a large row of derelict buildings somewhere downtown. Since then she had travelled to a nearby park, a zoo, and now was in the outskirts of the city drawing a large face engraved in rock at a mountain retreat. Usually this area was busting with tourists. No longer it seemed.

This call was different however. This was the soothing sounds of a loved one

"Honey, It's great to hear your voice, but could you please not interrupt me when I'm working?" Fiona said as her husband tried to tell her something urgent, but her mind, frequently insistent on completing the task of painting, would have little time for what he was saying

"Fiona...someone wants to speak to you" Cade said.

"I'm a someone, and whenever I call people important, they get exactly the same cold treatment I get whenever I'm not tasked with anything" Fiona said, trying to cut the conversation short

The voice on the other end of the phone, however, swiftly changed, and what occurred next continued the conversation several minutes longer.

"Fiona Butcher...it's funny, quite shamanic really, that you should choose a husband with a surname like that " said Agatha

"...Just what is the meaning of this?" said an irritated Fiona as she felt a heavy lump gather in her throat.

"We've spent all day finding the meaning in things...now we're aiming for something a little higher up in the pecking order. A proper assessment of the meaning, proper context, proper clarification Ms. Butcher...we want to talk to you about your FATHER. Tony "The Butcher" Vivaldi".

"That low-key kingpin? Related to me? Surely you're joking" Fiona said, trying to laugh it off, but finding no willpower to add any levity to the effort.

"If you're going to cover your tracks, please don't keep any photos from the childhood in your family albums" Agatha continued

"Cade...what did he do?" said Fiona

"Gave us the answer, part of it anyway. You were abducted by Vivaldi at Normandy hospital. The family album contains newspaper clippings of the event, there is archive TV of it currently on YouTube...you have people all over that site trying to pinpoint whatever happened to that little darling. Tony didn't escape justice that night, he was carted away, but the entire case was thrown on insistence of the mother, who refused to press charges for the attempt"

"Mom may have had problems with dad, his running a crime ring being chief among them., but she understood what it was like to live without laying a glimpse of your child. They agreed I could see him when I was older...they almost got back together when I was fifteen, but then the cancer claimed her. Dad was never the same and buried himself in his crime ring even further...the deal with that Shredder character gave him a sense of renewed purpose, he figured he was in the big leagues...and then it all fell apart for him again. He's been trying to reclaim his spot ever since, it led to a nervous breakdown for him"

"And you thought you could give him a purpose, so you painted something that you knew would deliberately strike a nerve with him. A black label illustration, no author attached, but you knew he'd recognize the situation in that picture, and every other picture after that also contained messages, assorted locations meshed together in one big illustration, and his breakdown caused him to see patterns in there that weren't identifiable to anyone else. I suspect, because he still suffers from the breakdown, that he can easily convince his followers there are hidden messages from the universe in your assorted assemblies...like chasing the ends of a rainbow"

"Seems like you've figured it all out"

"Almost...now we just need to trap your father, help us Fiona, help us figure out the final piece of the puzzle, if you cooperate you won't be implicated in this affair and you can go on living your life with Cade and Tony Ren, don't dig a deeper hole for yourself than you're currently digging" Agatha continued

"It's bigger than that, my reputation is on the line...you don't understand the hold others have on me" said Fiona.

"Ah, so Feldman is aware of things too is he?" deduced Agatha, "Figures he would be, he benefits from the publicity of the thefts, basks in the limelight that ought to be yours as you're the one behind the labels, and probably gets a kick out of manipulating a mentally ill crime boss and stringing along his followers. Textbook"

"Look, if the real truth came out...it would destroy my family, not just me, not just dad, everybody would be impacted negatively. Don't pry, and don't ask why. Goodbye Ms. Marbles"

Fiona switched the phone off and looked at the large sharpened object in her hand inking down the portrait. She swiftly called another number

"It's Butcher...you told me to call if there was anything that disrupted the unfolding pattern. That's now happened. There are people out there who are clued in to what's going on, and knowing the reputation of Agatha Marbles, she will persist in her project until nothing is left unturned...I need your council. Without it, I'm doomed"

The figure on the other end of the phone breathed a heavy sigh, and checked his watch. It glowed a hazy orange.

"I'm expecting company very shortly...but do not concern yourself with these issues, or Mr. Feldman, leave everything to...your pen pal"

Fiona made a slight humming noise as she nodded, understanding the option offered to her

And with a knowing chuckle, Tibbit Conseco turned off his phone.

The day was winding down and the Turtles and Neutrinos made their way through the remainder of the marketplace and reached a clearing near a hillside. They turned around and glanced upwards as the stars above slowly aligned together and formed a web that hung across the sky.

A beautiful and mesmerizing sight unfolded as the bright burning thread became electrified and formed a bright white hot inter-dimensional portal.

Dask hastily took the hyper-knife and delicately illustrated the portal and the sky around it, adding it to the top of the portrait. He now had a complete picture.

"It's time we headed back" said Donatello as he took the remote control for the dimensional portal out of his shell and pointed it north of the cliff face, electing to open it in mid-air and prompt everyone to jump through it.

He felt like flying after going through an ordeal that would drag anyone under.

Sagan's chilling riddles still plagued him however, particularly the one about wanting to make something of Michelangelo willing to take a bullet for him.

He hadn't been through an experience that exactly warranted that, and he hoped he never would have to.

He liked to still think he was in the nursery.

"Look" said April as she stared at the view of the city, its' marketplace slowly rotting and shrinking in scope and size, the glistening towers split into two as they withered and turned dark brown.

"The city is collapsing in on itself, the day is done" said Dask. "We'd better hustle, hopefully the ships will be arriving any second to pick up survivors"

"Right, ladies first" said Donatello, offering the shimmering portal to Kala and April. The two looked at each other, nodded in mutual respect, and held one another's hands.

"They're for sure my girls" said Michelangelo, before he found himself being wrenched away by the tug of April's other free hand. The three of them made a dash for the portal, a tight unit, and leaped from the cliff into the gaping mouth of the open portal.

"Nothing spells out freedom better than freefalling" said Zack as he ran off the cliff, turned himself in mid-air, spread arms out and allowed himself to fall back first into the portal

Dask leaped on Donatello's back and looked on nostalgically at the city

"I'm glad I got to see the back of home one last time before I go forward" he said. "March on Don"

Donatello checked the inner workings of his mind.

Nothing.

He smiled and, with a boost of confidence, ran off the cliff and into the portal.

The Turtles and Neutrinos emerged on the other side of the portal in a very different setting than when they embarked.

"This isn't the lair" said Donatello as he looked out at the surroundings.

"We're back at those crazy critics house" said Kala as she recognized the luscious garden of the cottage where they had been recruited

"Welcome home" said Tibbit as he emerged from the door, brandishing a device in his hand, "It's true what they say...you do provide more utility closer to home"

"How did we end up here?" said Donatello.

"A simple matter of inter-dimensional interception, courtesy of this" said Tibbit, holding the device up, "I was monitoring your pathway through the tears in the fabric of the reality prism and simply redirected you to my space/time coordinates"

"What is that?" asked Zak, "What's the deal here man?"

"The deal is the one I'm about to finalize, once you hand over the portrait" said Tibbit

"You formed any clues while you've been blue?" Michelangelo said as he noticed the distinct sorrow echoed across Dask's features.

"I did...at least I thought I did. Now it's even more clearer. I thought this mission was to remind our people the father fields existed, to populate our race with a new generation, strengthen the Neutrino hold on our Dimension, enough to pick apart what's left of Krang's underlings...but that wasn't the plan was it?" he asked, forming a fist

"It was the plan of my predecessor; before he was more keen to cast every label in black...you've done his vision proud. Now we have to remind him of that" said Tibbit.

"You used us" Dask said

"I had to" Tibbit replied

"Tibbit, that blasted Butcher woman called again, she says she won't go through with..." Bronze said, emerging from the house with a phone in his hand. He observed the situation

"What in blazes is going on here?" he said

"I'm afraid I have sold you adjusted truths my friend, come, I'll explain once we arrive at the Guggenheim museum" said Tibbit. "If any of you wish to find your way across the bowl and unlock the mysteries of the sunken ship, follow my instruction to the precise letter, that instruction is simply this. Don't try to start a fuss, that's up to me now"

As the group walked back inside the house to make further arrangements, April dashed over to Michelangelo's side. A mysterious and disturbing calm had come over them and she felt compelled to take advantage of it.

"Hey, want to go to the park after this is all done?"

"Which park?" said Michelangelo

"Any park. Play on a swing or something" April continued

"You chill with that? We'll totally have folks gawking" Michelangelo said

"Looking at us" said April, "Looking at the pair of us having fun. That's what I see in you Mike...the world through playful, innocent eyes, never once thinking it's big or black, but bright, beaming with color. I was tempted to fall into that world's way of thinking when I slipped away from your grasp for a few years, but you pulled me right back, you never flinched, you never faltered, and you had a blast doing it. You reminded me there was living color in this persistent shade of grey and I will forever cherish that. You're my best friend, and I owe a lot of my soul today for the spirit you display upon every tomorrow"

"This is why the party is never enough for me nowadays Kala" Michelangelo said as the feisty Neutrino caught up to them, "Not when love to the fullest is so much larger than life"

"Again with the rosier language?" April asked, "You're such an ageless hipster...but seriously cut it out and take Kala's advice, you sound like my dad, and Donatello reminds me of that enough"

THREE HOURS LATER

"Say it again" said Feldman as the trembling voice on the other end of the phone tried to compose itself.

"Tony...faltered, he faltered, he's just sitting here. Here with me. In the car. I tried to persuade him to come out, but he just stood completely still. The cops are waiting on the other end of the car...if we step out, we'll be arrested"

"What did you show him?" Preston asked, "Did you show him a label? Did he take anything from it? Some...message? What about the others? Are they there?"

"I showed him a photo of his family. An anniversary present for us. No black label, nothing to interpret for his most desperate of men, just something tidy and personal" the caller spoke, "As for the others...their stash was confiscated in the bust. It's over Feldman. Time is something I thought I'd always have, but it's all run out on me. That's all we have left to interpret"

Feldman looked at the remains of his soup, took out a straw from his top pocket, placed it within the bowl and quickly sucked up the concoction, making a slurping noise which intruded upon the ears of the receiver of his call.

"I have to go, Tony...he's trying to call his daughter"

"He may have to wait a while, I'm expecting her any minute now" replied Feldman

"Sir, your appointment has arrived" said a voice over the intercom. Preston got up, put the phone down, and walked over to the large draped sheet hanging over his wall, he tugged at the sheet and pulled it down. He smiled.

The door opened and in came his guests. Agatha Marbles and Fiona Butcher. Fiona took one look at what Preston had hanging on the wall of his office. Nerves shot through her.

"Are you ok Fiona?" asked Agatha as Fiona took out her phone and switched it off.

"Yes...yes I am. It's ok Ms. Marbles, I realize the Pen Pal is the wrong option for this, it's all about willpower, and bending someone's will isn't on, I have a different back up plan now" Fiona said, more sure of herself.

"I feel this case is much bigger, much vaster, it's taken me more than the average amount of chapters to turn the pages of this book" Marbles commented.

"And what is this?" she continued, observing the painting attached to the wall, the illustration of a displaced and hunched over woman coated in a neon green haze, her cheeks red and circular, with a grimace of rotted teeth representing her features.

"Behold The Addict" Feldman replied "Fiona's first masterpiece I believe, her one true bit of inspiration...only the tale of how she appropriated it was not so inspiring"

"Fiona?" asked Marbles, desiring confirmation.

In another part of the museum, another appointment was about to be made

"Are you ready?" said Tibbit as the group walked through the huddled gallery, Michelangelo stopping to gawk at a painting of a gentleman with a pizza slice in place of his face.

"Come along boy" said April, "We're trying our darned hardest to avoid egg on our face let alone pizza slices"

"Got it in one babe" said Michelangelo, "But...just why did you decide to talk about what we're doing for a date when all of this is going on?"

"That's a good question...everyone was feeling so...angry and used, and then all of a sudden we were co-operating. Something's up with that"

"I've a good mind to break this painting, shatter the purpose of this whole invitation" said Dask, holding the painting over his head, then slowly raising it down again.

"Your good mind won't dare delight in the notion" said Tibbit as he approached the doors to Preston's office

Bronze walked over to him, his face as ridged as a stone, his temper also rising.

"He's got a point, we've been quite orderly these last couple of hours, care to explain that?"

Tibbit took out a small golden medallion from his pocket.

"Temporal Graceland" he said, "Takes moments of supreme anger and places them within a single moment of time, think of it as taking a break from all our worries so we can put our matters to rest. Unfortunately, it does seem to be wearing off just as we're reaching our destination

"Temporal Graceland? You stole that from the king didn't you?"

"Whoa, you guys robbed royalty?" asked Michelangelo.

"Not our king, your king, of the rock and roll" Tibbit said, "One of the first Neutrinos recovered from the mayfly city by the trader communion, back when they were using this dimension as a hiding place"

"Communion? Petty thieves that's all the pirates were" Bronze said dismissively

"There were times where we were more civilized" Tibbit defended.

"YOU? You were...are...a pirate trader?" Zack replied, "The kind of cat that snatched Dask from his cradle?"

"You're a traitor, that's what you are" Bronze said.

"Hardly. I am by the standards of this Earth state, a patriot to my cause. The real traitor lies behind this door"

He opened the doors and stepped through, interrupting Feldman and his assembled guests

"Tibbit"

"Mr. Conseco, what are you doing here?" Fiona replied

"More to the point, what's this business I hear of you ditching the Pen-Pal?"

"Mss Marbles intruded on me a little more after our chats, she ultimately persuaded me to leave the latest of the labels near Central Park, take a photo of it, and then spread via the 'net with the right address allocated. My father's men flocked to it, as did my own dad, and once they took the bait, the police swarmed in and confiscated what the men had with them"

"Psychedelic sugar" said Marbles, "Enough of the stuff to send an elephant into the fourth dimension"

"Aunt Agatha" April said, running over to her aunt and graced her with a small kiss on the cheek.

"April dear, welcome back" said Marbles, "How was your trip?"

"A story worth telling everyone at the height of Happy Hour...and judging from how things are going here, I might be dominating both ends of the program. Mike, hand me my digital camera"

Michelangelo reached into the back of his shell, "There's my lot in life...all my days as a compact purse" he said, sighing, before handing April the device. April began covering events as they unfolded.

"Please Ms. Marbles, tell your...niece is it? Tell her not to record this" Fiona pleaded.

"Why? You got something more to hide?" said April

Fiona dipped into the pocket of her waistcoat and produced a small knife-like pen of similar design to Dask's own hyper-knife, she handed it to Tibbit

"This is out of sight...like, sight beyond sight " said Dask

"I know one cat who'd love to sue you over that" replied Michelangelo

"I don't think I can go on like this anymore... " she said

"I understand...I'm...sorry this way has proven" Tibbit replied

"Some of us just aren't good at this stuff, it's time I put my time and concentration into what does work for me...being a mother. Marbles offered me contacts that can help with Tony Ren's shot nerves and impediment issues, I know the labels were meant to supply me with that income, but their reputation has been spoiled by this whole situation, people will associate me as an accomplice before long with the Vivaldi syndicate, and they'd be right, this whole interpretive dance pyramid scheme...it'd sully anyone's reputation...that is if I ever had a proper one"

"So what is with The Addict? Was it not yours?"

"My dad's contacts appropriated it, he'd heard I was struggling in art school, and that I envied the real person who painted it, so they took it from him and paid him top dollar to keep quiet, enough to retire to a simple shack on a simple island and live life doing the simplest things...all so I could have my glory...then Feldman and Mr. Conseco found out, they being critics, they frequently visited the schools I attended, tracking down information on this young and fresh mind with a different vision...and found out about my poor markings"

"When I learned of her son's condition, I took pity on her," explained Tibbit, "So I gave her the opportunity to continue her profession, I gave her the secrets of the hyper-knife, I gave her the maps and I watched her dance...then Feldman here took it upon himself to contact Vivaldi, let him know he knew about The Addict, and then he bought it off of him, in exchange for more of his daughter's black labels. The Hyper-knife I gave her found itself being abused. I couldn't let it continue, so I devised a stratagem. Dask, hand me the portrait"

Dask was hesitant, but at the urging of Kala, who seemed to be gradually warming to the words uttered by the trader critic, he did as instructed.

"I think you will find this more to your liking Preston...behold. A portrait. A radical portrait. Of Dimension X. A city that lives for a day and a society that endures and touches the hearts of people that visit it forever. Some of them are taken, and all of them endure"

Feldman smiled, he took his glasses off, then put them on again, his fingertips danced around the soft edges of the matte, he could hear every ounce of laughter, every patter of a tiny child's feet as people walked through the ages, heard the commotion of the marketplace, reveled in the thunderous applause heard in the diner. He was experiencing it all, interpreting it however he wanted.

"Is...this is real, I can feel it. This is a real place...this is...happening. It happened, and it happens again. Routinely. I-I must see this place. I must go there...can we be taken there? There must be artists amongst them surely?" said Feldman in awe.

"We can go there" said Tibbit

Bronze took him aside.

"Don't think I'm not on to you, if you're a pirate trader, you're bound to hand that portrait over to your people and they'll pluck the mayflies from their day and spend them

"I passed the Neutrino citizenship test, I'm well and truly part of your stock...besides, someone had to keep an eye on young Dask here. Why else do you think I recruited him? I was amongst those who rescued him from the city years back, I took quite a shine to him"

"What a story, two prolific critics embark on an off-world journey to discover more about the arts...don't worry Ms. Butcher, I'll only show the public the edited highlights"

"Oh that's alright Ms. O'Neil, I found another way around this" Fiona said, and took out a small pistol

"Stay back" she said, aiming at Preston

"What are you doing woman? Put that away" said Bronze

"Stand well back I say" said Fiona, clutching the pistol tight

"She's quite serious, I don't see a tremble in her hands. She's assured this is the right way" said Marbles.

Preston put both hands up, and closed his eyes prepared for the end.

Donatello ran to his side and shielded him.

"Don't do anything you'll regret Mrs. Butcher" said Donatello, "This isn't in the rules"

"Leave it to the author to tell you the rules" said Fiona, squeezing the trigger.

Michelangelo jumped in front of Donatello and took the shot. April and Kala gasped in shock.

Michelangelo closed his eyes and prepared to endure a world of sharp and immediate pain, but instead found himself perfectly fine, just a bit moist

"It's...erm...water" said Donatello

"Well of course it's water, it's my new back-up plan, I'm going to destroy The Addict so Preston, nor anyone else, can use it to blackmail me anymore"

"Why didn't you just do this in the first place?" said Michelangelo, "You could have given us a day off"

"You know what we Vivaldi's are like, run as fast as you can with a racket" said Fiona, squirting Preston again with the water pistol.

"Hey, where's Leo and Raph anyway Auntie?" April asked

"Leo is still talking to the cabbie outside, he says he knows him from somewhere, a Mr. Derik Mallory I believe his name was, and Raphael is...well...he got thirsty, so Fiona gave him her pen-pal" said Agatha, "Then he took a sugar rush, and you don't want to know what kind of dirty laundry comes spinning out of the dryer when that kicks in"

Michelangelo stood before the spiral staircase in the landscape of his dreams, he was attired in top hat and sporting a monocle, with a twirl of a phony moustache. He looked posh. He felt rich.

"You're looking sharp" said April, close to his side, flaunting a thin velvet yellow dress.

Opposite him was Kala, attired in a silk emerald gown.

"Not as sharp as this little razor leaf" said Kala

"This isn't the time for fashion fever, not when we've got to deflate a disease" said Michelangelo

Behind all three, were two scared little twin girls, holding on to one another in sheer fright.

"These dogs are barking up the wrong tree if they think they're going to cut you girls down in confidence, don't worry though, I've got a woman's touch this time around" said Michelangelo, "Let's see if we make these packs of addicted animals teacher's pets" he continued.

The three of them stared at the edge of the spiral staircase at the rabid dogs, all representing the latest batch of EDX addicts they were combating within the dreamscape, and slowly, and valiantly, they put their feet firmly forward to advance.

Back in the real world and within the workshop area of the Turtle's lair, Donatello monitored the life readings on Michelangelo, April and Kala as they sat fixed to a trio of chairs, three EDX prisms held in their hands.

"You sure this won't hurt Kala?" said Dask as he and Zack lazed about, prodding and poking at the various contraptions in the workshop.

"Not to worry guys" assured Donatello, "We've managed to regulate and stabilize the EDX pathogens using some leftovers of the mutagen that created us, I injected a small dosage of it into Michelangelo and he's filtered it through his own bloodstream, carrying the brunt of the workload, April and Kala are perfectly fine"

"Well I hope she doesn't enjoy herself too much in there, we've got to get Tibbit and that Feldman bozo to Dimension X pronto" said Zack, looking on at Dask

"Hey, you've been a bit distant lately, what's your take on this whole deal...seeing home again? Being forced to be all about the truth with us?"

"Just feels like everything's being done for arts' sake" said Dask, "People are less invested in the lives of other people and more into what their output of creativity is...for all I know, Tibbit could be more eager to have his trader followers take away all the creative members of my home world rather than an assortment of different talents and keener minds...perhaps, now that the planet is public knowledge again, we should look into maybe taking a few visits there and recruiting some for us just for safe measure"

"Now that makes for a prettier picture" said Dask, high-fiving his friend..

Donatello's turtle-com suddenly went off, he hastily walked over to it and pressed down on it. It was Irma

"You're a sight for these sore eyes" said Donatello, "How's tricks?"

"Don...A.P.E just called, they didn't know how to reach you, I'm...Don, he's gone"

"Who's gone?" said Donatello.

There was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile

"Kim Sagan. Doctors observing him at the hospital he was stationed at, they said he just got up and went wild, fought his way tooth and nail out of the building, managed to jump out of the second floor into trash containers, got up and sped off"

I am what I am, I am alive

What you see, is what you get

Yeah my friend we haven't started yet

One small step for a man

One giant leap for all mankind

You gotta let it go, you gotta let it be

You know you cannot hide from the devil in me

"Don? Don are you ok? You look like...you're hearing distant drums or something"

"Something like that Irma. Something like that" Donatello said

His mind cut through the strange buzzing in his mind, a song he listened to years back, "I Am" by Suggs, routinely looping in his head, he thought about the clash he had for control of his sanity with Sagan earlier, returning to two words in particular

"Wake. Up"

The realization dawned on him very quickly. It stung him mercilessly.

He had told Sagan to awaken.

And so he did. Just like that.

And now, whatever rosy picture the Turtles had put together, whatever future creative undertakings were on the verge of commencement, one interpretation was clearer than any other

Things were going to go very dada.

If you're gonna find

Some kind of peace of mind