Rocksteady sighed. What had happened? It didn't seem that long ago that everything seemed so perfect.

Maybe it was just because things had been heading up for Robbie for so long. He was a big kid in school, but always felt too clumsy, too oafish to participate in sports. After three years of just "thinking about it", of wondering if he could handle the expected rejection, he finally tried out for the varsity football team. To his surprise, he not only made the cut, but became a starting lineman. He learned something about himself during the season - he really liked slamming his opponents. Between practices and games, he worked off a lot of built-up tension at the expense of blockers and ball-carriers. As if that weren't enough, suddenly, other students started taking an interest in him. People smiled at him in the halls, and he found himself with a date every weekend. For the first time, the big gawky teenager was becoming a respected part of the school.

Eventually, though, the football season came to an end, and with it came Robbie's newfound popularity. Sure, they all still said "hi" in the halls, but he wasn't getting the dates he had in the autumn. As the weeks went on, and the social calendar dried up, Robbie looked for a way to get back to where he was. He thought about trying out for the wrestling team, but that didn't have the same appeal. It seemed so...slow. Lame. None of the bone-crushing slams he loved executing in football. And his one good year of varsity football wasn't going to be enough to get any college interested, so it looked like his football career was already over. Feeling more and more despondent, he let his grades slide, and they weren't exactly all that great to begin with.

Even in his depressed state, Robbie knew he'd better get a job - every high schooler needs spending money. After a bit of searching, he managed to land one at the sub shop down the street. Robbie wasn't exactly a model employee, but frankly neither was anyone else there. Famous Subs seemed to be the place to go if you didn't want your sandwich in a hurry. Robbie wasn't that crazy about the job. The boss was always telling him he had to be nicer to customers, and Robbie was getting really tired of hearing "if you've got time to lean, you've got time to clean". But there was a bright spot there - this guy James, who had already been working at Famous Subs for six months when Robbie came aboard. James had this easy-going way about him that Robbie really liked. He seemed like he could get along with pretty much everybody, and even Robbie, who was normally a loner, found himself warming up to him. As time went on, Robbie found out that James was a member of a small neighborhood gang called the Uptown DKs. One day after work, James invited Robbie to come hang out with them. Robbie was hesitant - he didn't think he wanted to get tangled up in anything like that. But James was persuasive, Robbie took a quick liking to them, and by the end of the month, Robbie was a DK too. He didn't much care about the petty squabbles the DKs would have with rival gangs. He never quite understood what it was about, and who was getting revenge for what this week. What he did understand was the fighting, and that's what got Robbie hooked. About once a week, the DKs would find some reason to go up against another group, and Robbie was there, fists at the ready. It wasn't quite the same as football, but to be honest, Robbie thought he liked this better.

Robbie's mother didn't know exactly what was going on, but she did know he was falling in with an unsavory crowd. She took to yelling at him about it quite a bit. She said that his new friends were bad news who would ruin his life, and someday he'd regret taking up with them.

Calling back over the years, Rocksteady thought, you were right, Ma. They were. I do.

A couple months later, both James and Robbie began hearing about a new gang in the area - the Foot. Robbie at first figured this would be a good opportunity to get some head-bashing in, once the Foot made their move against the DKs. But then a co-worker told them more about it. The Foot wasn't just a group of bored teens looking for stuff to do. This was something else entirely. The Foot had their fingers in all sorts of things, but the bulk of their activities seemed to involve stolen merchandise and protection rackets. It was this last bit that appealed to Robbie - beating up guys, for money! He and James immediately quit the DKs and set about trying to get into the Foot.

To their surprise, both of them were accepted in without much hassle. Robbie was sure there'd be some sort of initiation, a test of nerve or some such. But instead, they were told that a few others had vouched for them, and they could enter. Foot soldiers were required to live on base, so, under the cover of darkness, Robbie went home, got his things, and left without a backward glance.

Once he returned, he was told he wouldn't have to do anything at first - simply watch, listen and learn. He was a bit peeved to find out he had to share his room, and even more peeved to find out he wouldn't be rooming with James. Instead, he ended up with this weird punker with a pink mohawk, with the unlikely name of "Bob". Robbie wasn't fond of the arrangement, but Bob ended up being really cool, and by the end of the week, he was closer to Bob than he'd ever been to James.

Robbie no longer had to worry about work, school, or his ma, and he thought that that would be heaven on earth. After a bit, though, he began to get itchy. Playing computer games with Bob was fun, but he couldn't do it 24/7, so out of boredom (not so much because it was suggested to him), he began watching the other Foot members. There were a couple newbies like himself, but most of the Foot wore black outfits, and some wore masks when they went out on their assignments at night. The entire operation was like a well-oiled machine. Everyone seemed to have something to do, and it was obvious a lot was getting done. Tons of merchandise came through the base - some of it was given to the Foot members, but most was taken away to be...well, Robbie wasn't sure. Probably sold somewhere. Robbie learned quick that, as a Foot soldier, he was supposed to do exactly what he was told to, and not ask any questions. So he simply shrugged. The Foot knew what they were doing. As long as he was treated well, why should he care?

Robbie guessed the leader of the Foot was a guy named Jutaro. He was bald and rather short, and seemed somewhat out of place wearing his black kimono. The other foot soldiers set him straight, though.

"Dude, don't go thinking you can get away with nothing on Jutaro's watch," said one. "One guy tried to pull something on him, and Jutaro had his on the floor with a bloody face in, like, ten seconds."

"So, he's the guy in charge?"

"Well, sorta," she said. "He's the one that tells people what to do most of the time. But the big boss here is the Shredder."

"The Shredder?" said Robbie, trying not to laugh. "Don't think I met him."

"You'd know if you did. Usually he's not here. He only shows up when things go wrong. Trust me - you don't wanna meet him if you can help it."

Another Foot soldier chimed in. "You know it. Big mean guy, wears a metal mask and cape, and has blades all over his arms."

Robbie couldn't help laughing. This sounded like a comic book character. "What? You kidding?"

The Foot soldiers looked at him severely. "You better not let anyone hear you laughing at him," said one. "If it gets back to him, you may as well find a comfortable place to lie down, 'cause he'll cut you up and leave you in pieces."

Robbie still thought they might be kidding, but their eyes told him they weren't. Well, OK, then. The guy in charge was psycho. Robbie decided that didn't matter. He was obviously crazy like a fox if everything worked this smooth, and since he was never around, it wouldn't matter anyway. He'd just be sure to be extra-nice if and when he did show up.

Days passed, but before Robbie truly had a chance to get completely bored, he and Bob were summoned by Jutaro. The time had come for them to get their first assignment. Jutaro told them the name of their target, and the store they would find him in. They were told simply that this man needed "persuasion". From hanging around the other Foot soldiers, both Robbie and Bob knew that meant "mess him up, but don't put his life in danger". Robbie and Bob headed to the basement, where they were at last given uniforms, complete with masks. Once they had suited up, a third Foot soldier drove them to the store. Bob and Robbie sat in the back of the van, waiting for the store to empty out. When the final customer left, they went into action. They pulled open the door and headed straight for the back, not bothering to announce themselves. The man hardly had a chance to react. By the time he saw the two Foot soldiers coming, Bob had grabbed his head and slammed it into a display case. Robbie picked him up and slugged him in the gut, then caught him across the face with a right roundhouse punch. The man slumped to the floor, knocked out. Bob and Robbie looked at each other. They were both just getting warmed up, but they knew better than to take this too far. They shrugged, and headed back out to the van.

When they returned to the Foot HQ, the driver took them to Jutaro and praised their work highly. From then on, Bob and Robbie were a regular part of the "muscle". Two or three times a week, they were called upon to either "persuade" a target, or else "take one out" - wail on him enough to send them to the hospital. Robbie couldn't believe his luck. He had everything he wanted - a good friend, respect, and plenty of opportunities to smack people around. Life couldn't get any better.

Rocksteady ground his teeth, remembering what had happened. The day everything started going to hell.

Jutaro summoned all the muscle together, and announced that he had a special assignment for them. All of them were going to an old warehouse in another part of town. They were to wait in there in the dark, quietly, and this time, the targets would come to them. At that point, they were to beat them within an inch of their lives, and then drag them back to Foot HQ. Jutaro didn't tell them who the targets were. He just quizzically said, "You shall know them when you see them." As they made their way back to their rooms to prepare, there was an excited buzz among the Foot soldiers. This was something different, and promised to be interesting.

Later that night, Robbie sat against the inner wall of the abandoned warehouse. About fifty Foot soldiers made the trek out, all armed with bats, knives and chains. Robbie could make out Bob - partly because Bob was closest to him, and partly because his pink mohawk stuck out even in the darkest room - but the rest of the Foot were swallowed up into the vast darkness of the warehouse. Hearing the occasional sound from one of them, he wondered, why'd they send so many of us? If it's only a few guys, we shouldn't need more than five or ten, tops. Who are we going up against, anyway?

"Hey, Bob," he said as quietly as he could.

"Yeah?"

"Who you think the target is?"

Bob shrugged, then realized Robbie couldn't see the shrug. "Who knows?"

"Jutaro said we'll know 'em when we see 'em."

"Yeah."

"So what do you think that means? What are they gonna look like?"

"I dunno." Bob thought for a second. "Maybe they're just really fat or somethin'."

Robbie mulled that over, then shook his head. "Nah, they can't be fat. Otherwise, any two of us could take 'em out."

"Hm." Bob spun his baseball bat in his hands and thought for a minute. "Maybe they're aliens."

"What?"

"Y'know - aliens. Small naked grey guys with them big black eyes."

Robbie tried not to laugh too loud. "Why would the Foot want to beat up aliens?"

"'cause they didn't pay up. Ain't nobody exempt from the Foot." Robbie could hear Bob grinning in the dark. "Or maybe just 'cause they're weird lookin'."

"Weird, like they got pink mohawks?" Robbie teased.

"Hey, ain't nothin' weird about a pink mohawk!"

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by the someone shushing. The targets were coming. Robbie heard the sound of running feet - the Foot were leading the prey in. Suddenly, the footsteps vanished, followed by a somewhat different sound. Robbie couldn't place it - it sounded like people in sandals or flip-flops running. He saw a couple vague shapes enter the warehouse proper, then come to a complete halt. There was a second of silence before a voice spoke.

"Dudes, I think we've been set up."

Suddenly, the lights came on. The Foot Soldiers leapt to their feet...and froze. Standing near the center of the warehouse stood four creatures, not quite five feet tall. Robbie couldn't figure out what the heck they were. They were green, and looked kind of like turtles standing on their hind legs. After a moment's pause, Robbie burst out laughing, along with the rest of the Foot Soldiers. Man, they looked awfully pathetic standing there surrounded by fifty elite fighters. And Jutaro was right - there was no question about who the target was. Robbie stepped up, swinging his bat lightly in his hands.. In the back of his head, he asked the question again. Why so many of us against these four? But he didn't have time to mull it over. He pointed his bat at the turtle closest to him, who responded by pulling a long stick from behind his back. A stick! This thing was going to try to take him on with a stick! Robbie grinned - this was gonna be fun and easy. "Say your prayers, freak," he said, then he lifted his bat, set his teeth, and charged.

Robbie slowly became aware of himself. It took him several tries to get his brain going. Wait - where was he? He was laying on a floor, face down. Wait a second - how'd he end up here? It didn't seem to matter whether his eyes were open or closed - he couldn't see anything. He tried lifting himself up, and he saw lights flashing in his brain. Ouch - he'd taken a heck of a hit in the back of the head. Slowly, painfully, he rolled into a sitting position and rubbed his head and neck for a bit. I've gotta find out what's going on, he thought. Carefully, he got to his knees, then stood up. Putting his hands out in front of him, he began walking towards the doorway, where a bit of light was coming in. After a bit of fumbling around, he found the light switch on the wall and flipped it. Blinking a bit at the sudden influx of light, he was stunned by what he saw. Forty or so Foot Soldiers strewn across the warehouse floor, and only a few of them moving at all. Those green freaks took us all out! Scanning the floor, Robbie spied Bob's pink mohawk, and stumbled over to help his friend. Bob was lying on his back, moaning and clutching his left arm.

"Bob, what happened?"

"My shoulder...damn...those chucks..."

"Don't worry, man. You'll be OK. I'll get us out of here."

Helplessly, Robbie stood up and began talking to each of the Foot members in turn. They were going to need to find some guys who could drive back to the base. It took a bit of time, but finally, Robbie found three others who thought they'd be OK driving. Two of the six Foot vans that had driven them there were missing - presumably, a couple Foot had turned tail and ran when they saw how the battle was going. It was a quiet trip back to base, except for some groaning by the seriously injured. Everyone had the same two thoughts - "Those freaks really pulled a number on us" and "The Shredder isn't going to like this."

The Shredder, in fact, didn't like it. At all. Robbie found out that all the things he'd heard about the Shredder were true. He was in fact big, and did wear the mask and cape. And even though he was aware that he'd failed in this mission, and was prepared to be yelled at, Robbie wasn't ready for the Shredder's wrath. In fact, the Shredder brought his fury on his subjects with a force no one had thought possible. He screamed, pounded the wall, and smacked a couple Foot soldiers across the face with his bladed wrists (Robbie being one of the unlucky ones). At the end of his rant, he called them unworthy of the Foot clan, and finally stormed out with a growl. Slowly, the defeated and demeaned Foot soldiers made their way back to their rooms, Once there, Robbie noticed that his video game system had been removed. Geez, the Shredder could be just like Ma sometimes. Robbie went to the bathroom to clean the scratches on his face, and upon returning, he was surprised to see Bob on his bed, whistling.

"What're you so happy about?"

Bob shrugged and readjusted his arm in his sling. "Dunno. Just feelin' lucky."

"Lucky? We got our butts whipped!"

"Yeah. But at least we're still going. Don't worry 'bout it." Bob grinned. "There'll be a rematch. We'll get 'em next time."

Robbie sighed. "Yeah," he said halfheartedly, thinking of the warehouse full of unconscious Foot soldiers. "Next time."

The next few days passed slowly for Robbie. Everyone was on edge. A lot of regular activities were dropped. Very few shipments came in or out of the base. Obviously, something big was brewing, but nobody knew what. Or if they knew, they weren't telling. Robbie feared the worst, and since he had no idea what the worst could be, he had several rather imaginative scenarios. Only Bob kept him from flipping out completely.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Bob said, over and over. "Things will work out."

At the end of the week, the entire Foot clan was assembled by Jutaro. He announced that they were plotting to "eradicate the freaks of nature" that had caused "dishonor to fall upon the Foot clan." He asked for two volunteers. These volunteers would undergo a regimen that would enable them to "crush these abominations once and for all." Bob raised his hand, then looked expectantly at Robbie. Robbie thought for a second, then raised his hand, as well. Why not? A chance to get stronger, and pound the guys who pounded him? It sounded like fun.

Thinking back on it, Rocksteady snorted. Fun. Worst mistake of his life.