DISCLAIMER: Although I did not start out to parody or even vaguely imply other stories on Fan Fiction, considering this particular chapter's topic, I feel inclined to dedicate it to Fallen Hikari and her Price of Pepperoni. This one's for you, gal, and I'm certain you will know why as you read along:0) Anyway, as before, I don't own them, I just like to torment and torture them. As I'm thinking about it, I guess Chapter One, Leo Through the Looking Glass, might be a casual nod to Ramica, too, where she's just finished up with The Enemy. Yeah, what could be worse, eh? LOL
Chapter 2 – Has the World Gone Crazy?
Mike had to admit, pickles on pizza was not a good thing, no, not at all. He tossed around on his bed as if he had ants in his pants; that is if he wore pants, and he just couldn't seem to get comfortable. He checked his alarm clock again, grabbing it up to get a better look at the time. Disappointed, he found that only ten minutes had gone by since he had checked it last, and that seemed to have been hours ago.
But, ten minutes of tossing and turning was, still, ten minutes of not sleeping.
"Gad, I'm tired. I just wish my tummy would settle down," he moaned. "Next time I order pizza, I'm nixing the extra toppings. Maybe combining pickles with sauerkraut wasn't such a good idea?"
He smiled though, remembering the looks of disgust on his brothers' and sensei's faces when he brought home their late-night meal. Yet, they had all shared some of the concoction, with Donnie commenting about the interesting sensations of flavors that danced along his tongue.
Now, however, those same sensations seemed to be dancing further south in Mike's stomach.
"I wonder if anyone else is having the same problem?" he pondered with a contracted groan.
Finally, unable to stay in bed any longer, Mike decided that maybe an hour's worth of television would lull him into dreamland.
Or, maybe even a round of his favorite first-shooter video game.
Either way, Mike had had enough of trying to sleep when his body and mind refused to cooperate.
Aware that he might very well be the only member of his family having trouble sleeping, Mike quietly slipped out of his bedroom and headed for the living area. As he came into the room, he eased himself onto the well-worn couch, grabbed up the remote from off the cushion, and – propping his legs up onto the coffee table in front of him - clicked on the television.
"Think I'll channel surf first and, if I don't find anything interesting, then Full Force X 'n me will have a go-round." He leaned back to relax and pointed the controller at the T.V., beginning his 'tour' of the world of visual entertainment.
He knew it was going to take some time to flip through all of the channels, where Donnie had spliced into a cable company a few years ago. Mike was confident that with over six hundred stations to consider, he would be asleep in no time.
After about thirty minutes, he was getting frustrated. So far, he was still wide-awake with nothing interesting to watch on television. However, as he reached the halfway point in the list of channels, a news story caught his attention. He let the program play out, watching the news reporter with growing concern. He had missed the opening line, but what little he had heard initially, his interest piqued ten-fold from then on. He watched as the casually dressed man, with microphone in hand, stood behind a huge crowd of people, with some in the crowd carrying banners and signs. Just beyond them was the gleaming white dome of the United States capitol in Washington DC, providing a regal backdrop with its nighttime lights illuminating the surrounding area like a beacon.
"…and, as lawmakers quickly consider the passage of the Pizza Ban Bill, protests have erupted outside congress as thousands of demonstrators expressed their dissatisfaction."
The newscast then showed clips from what appeared to be earlier in the day of a panoramic shot of the large, growing crowd of disgruntled citizens. Large signs criticizing the obviously very unpopular legislative movement bobbed and weaved within the sea of humans, with loud chants of "No More Delivery, No More Work" and "What's Beer Without Pizza?" reverberating throughout the throng of people.
Mike was transfixed, "How could they do this?" He was stunned almost speechless, but not entirely. He suddenly smiled, believing that he had landed on the MadTV channel. "Yeah, I bet this is just one of their parody shows." He giggled then, realizing more than before that was what he was watching – a well-played hoax.
Chuckling to himself, "Who would even lobby for such a bill anyway? It's just ridiculous."
Mike then went on to channel surf through a few more stations, chuckling every so often as he thought about the pizza ban, with ten more minutes going by before, once again, another news report caught his attention. There on the screen and sitting behind a maple-laminated desk with a photo backdrop of New York City, sat an attractive lady brunette, who then spoke dispassionately into the camera.
"This just in…it is now official. Due to its proven health hazard, beginning next week, on June 13th, 2005, there will be a ban on all pizza. Companies who have profited from this highly dangerous food item will be required to turn in their business license and close up shop. HAZMAT teams will collect all frozen variety pizza from every store in the nation, a process that may well take upwards to a month to complete. SWAT and other special agencies will join forces to expedite the eradication of this highly unhealthy and toxic food. All grocery stores and mini markets will be required to remove all pizza products from their shelves and refrigeration units by tomorrow morning. Beginning this evening, anyone found stockpiling this horrific substance beforehand or caught out in public with even a slice of pizza, will be fined upwards to five-thousand dollars and six months in jail. Already, Dominos and Pizza Hut stock is plummeting, with like reaction happening to the smaller restaurant chains and pizza brand companies. Word has reached us only moments ago that stockholders are in a state of panic as they try to sell off their shares, likening this nation-wide hysteria to the stock market crash of 1929. It is feared that a revenue loss reaching into hundreds of billions is likely to affect the country. From this reporter's view, it could mean total chaos until the pepperoni settles."
Mike just stared at the screen, now horrifyingly convinced that the Pizza Ban bill was not a hoax after all. Dumbstruck, he was unable to fathom how anyone could think, or would think, that his favorite food in the entire universe was unhealthy.
"Okay, dude, so it's a bit greasy – but aren't hamburgers greasy, too?"
Shaking his head and then with his eyes growing wide when he realized his dilemma, he jumped up from the couch and ran back to his room, "Gotta get me some pies before it's too late!"
However, as he began to think about the impending shortage of his favorite food and the crowds of protesters he saw on the news report, he grinned. A sudden idea came to mind. He could easily see himself conducting a very successful black market business of selling prohibition pizza to people who just could not live without it. It was obvious from what the television showed that the huge crowds hovering in front of the capital were in agreement with him, that banning pizza was not a good idea. He also believed that Donnie's foraging in the local junkyards just might turn up a discarded freezer or two. Mike was quite confident that his genius brother would be able to fix them. Now chuckling contentedly under his breath in fortuitous anticipation, the orange-banded turtle's mood began to brighten considerably.
As he raced into his bedroom, Mike grabbed up his chucks, clipped them onto his belt, and then snagged his trench coat and hat. Once he had them on, he quickly headed back out. Sprinting through the living area, he wondered if maybe it would be wise to alert his family. Realizing they would only question his sanity and waste precious time that would be better spent acquiring his precious pizza, Mike decided that this mission was one he would have to do alone.
Quickly going into the kitchen, he opened a cabinet situated over the sink. Standing on tiptoes, he rustled through the various canned goods that were stored there, soon finding the large, five-pound coffee container in the back. As he pulled the can forward, a few of the stashed coins tinkered loudly along the inside of the can like a maraca, causing Mike to look nervously behind him. He waited, holding his breath. When he was convinced the sudden noise hadn't alerted the rest of his family, he smiled and took the can the rest of the way out of the cabinet and over to the small wooden table in the kitchen.
Peeling back the plastic lid, he looked inside the metallic receptacle. Along with the various coins, a large collection of one-dollar bills stared back at him. Several fives and a few, ten-dollar notes littered part of the stash, with an occasional twenty-dollar bill to sweeten the pot. Mike was certain that his brothers would be in total agreement with him, believing that procuring the forbidden pies had to be the best reason in the world to use their entire savings.
It was, after all, a matter of life and death – or pizza, as far as Michelangelo was concerned.
Filling his coat pockets, now, with every coin and bill, Mike quickly resealed the can and returned it to its hiding spot in the cabinet over the sink. Soon, he was fleeing out the front door of the lair and through the sewers towards his exit point.
Only a few minutes later, Mike found himself standing in front of his favorite all-night grocery store. He noticed that the lighting was dimmed down a bit in the aged shop, which would only make it easier to get around inside without too many people noticing him. As it was, his casual entrance into the store went almost unnoticed by the proprietor, yet see him she did. Looking up from her newspaper, the woman nodded his way with a slow bow of her head, with Mike giving back the same gesture. He then pulled at the front edge of his fedora as he brought the brim further down in front of his face. This simple act alone had a dual purpose, acknowledging the storeowner as well as hiding his face a bit more.
Fortunately, for Mike, he was somewhat of a familiar presence to the woman, where he did most of his shopping at her store, albeit usually much earlier than the current hour. His coat and wide-brimmed hat had become a regular occurrence to her. Therefore, it did not seem too much out of the ordinary and so, for the most part, she ignored him.
It also did not seem too unusual to see the place mostly deserted, except for himself and the shop owner. Considering it was nearly two in the morning, who else would be 'out and about', other than muggers and rapists. Mike smiled to himself, confident that he would not have any competition for any of the frozen pizzas.
Grabbing a cart, Mike sauntered down the aisles. He took his time as he whistled a tune and hoped against hope that this new law went unnoticed and unknown by the proprietor. After all, it had only been a little while since the television reporter had made the horrific announcement. Certainly, the law would be a bit more lenient in the beginning, to give enough time for the word to get around to everyone.
Mike decided, however, that to stockpile his cart with just frozen pizza might be a dead giveaway to his true intentions. After all, he was certain that such a legislative measure would not have been sudden. More than likely, it had been a nationally known fact for a while, considering the huge crowd the news program showed. How he and his brothers had missed reading or hearing about such an obvious social crisis was beyond him. Nevertheless, he was grateful he had seen the news and heard the announcement when he did.
Quickly, he began to add a few errant items to his cart. A loaf of bread, a box, or two of cereal, a few canned goods, and a gallon of milk found their way into the handcart, before Mike headed over to the frozen foods section of the store.
Like a kid on Christmas morning, Mike could only stare in wonder. To his delight, the refrigeration shelves were completely full, and – best of all worlds – every box of frozen pizza was marked down to a quarter of the price. Then, as if that wasn't good enough news, a small sign stuck to the inside of the glass door announced 'no limits'.
Mike couldn't help but giggle softly, not at all alarmed with such a reduced price in cost. Maybe the proprietor was indeed aware of the impending pizza ban after all and, wanting to move her merchandize as fast as possible, had decided that little gain was better than total loss. Mike had all he could do to keep from laughing gleefully aloud.
Truly, fate was smiling on him this night!
After a few minutes, the turtle filled the rest of his cart to the very top with every variety of pizza. From plain cheese, to super supreme, and, with as many brands as there were, he took as much as he could. With his cart now full of cheaply priced pizza, he was certain he would have enough money to pay for every item. If not, he would just nix the bread, the milk, the canned goods, and the boxes of cereal. What fortunes he would make in the days to come from the black market sale of his 'wheels of culinary delight' would more than make up for what he couldn't buy this evening – or morning, as it was.
As far as Mike was concerned, existing on just pizza alone had to be the best way to live, that was all there was to it.
Mike now walked towards the front of the store to pay for his groceries, pushing the nearly overflowing cart before him. While he did, he whistled a happy little tune, a tune that was snappier, livelier, and which expressed his current mood – complete elation!
As Mike approached the register, the woman behind the counter eyed the full-to-the-brim grocery cart. One of her eyebrows rose in suspicion and a small quirk edged one corner of her mouth. She deftly lowered her right hand, slipping it below the counter's edge and out of sight of her customer, with an almost indiscernible buzz whispering soon afterwards.
"So," she asked evenly, "stocking up on pizza, are we?"
Lowering his head a bit more to ensure his cover, Mike replied, "Yep, having a bit of a – party – at home later on tomorrow and I thought I'd – just – get my shopping out of the way." He smiled inwardly, quite proud of his explanation.
"I see. Well, then…" the woman remarked, "guess there's only one thing left to do."
Suddenly and without warning, a contingency of SWAT personnel converged on the store, with at least a dozen men armed with AK47 assault rifles and tazer tags. Before Mike could whip out his chucks, before he could react at all, between the front and back doors of the grocery store the men swiftly piled inside and surrounded him. The tazer tag found him first, its small metal teeth latching onto his legs and rendering the poor turtle to the floor in a helpless spastic heap. Once he was inert, the SWAT team deactivated the tazer, with some of the men grabbing his legs while several more secured his arms.
Mike panicked. Bravely, he tried to kick out and to twist from their grasps, but to no avail. Despite his training, despite his strength, there were just too many of them.
With their metallic wrist and ankle binds, they successfully hobbled him with hardly any trouble at all. Mike soon found himself completely helpless.
As he looked up at the proprietor, the brim of his hat still concealing most of his face, she shrugged as she explained her actions, "Sorry, mister, but they offered me a $5,000 reward for alerting them to anyone buying pizza."
"But, but, the bill just passed tonight! How can they do this so quickly?" he whined pitifully.
"Tonight? Hey, where've you been, hiding under a rock?" the woman sneered, "This pizza ban is almost a week old!"
Then, as one of the men removed Mike's hat to get a better view of their 'catch of the day', everyone startled back in unexpected shock.
What else could possibly go wrong, Mike did not want to know. His capture because of the banned pizza was proof that the world had indeed gone crazy. Despite the fact that he was now exposed and no longer a secret, the only thing that mattered to him was that he would never again have any of his beloved favorite food.
Consequently and before anyone could scream or shout out or say anything in surprise, Mike cried out a long, mournful, "NOOOOOOO!"
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A/N. Two down, three or four more to go. Gee, I wonder if Mike will get out of this one. Hmm…Thanks to all who read and reviewed.LUNAR-NINJATHE REAL CHEESE MONKEYPRETENDER FANATICCHIBI ROSE ANGEL, SOMELLAMAFREAKRAMICADIERDREPACPHYS