The Turtlemobile had been parked on the front lawn of the school. I always thought the concept of a secret garage in a city sewer was a bit of a stretch, but I liked the design of the vehicle, a big yellow van with a turtle shell for a roof, with red laser cannons and a secret springloaded panel that pops off and knocks evil ninjas flat on their ass.

We had to fight a swarm of birds to get there, but once inside, we were relatively safe.

April O'Neal sat at the steering wheel, Chad in the seat next to her, gently rocking his baby.

Behind these two, there were a few additional rows of seats, and a pair of benches along the walls. Expecting it to be crowded, I sat on a bench.

In the back, Whiskers tinkered with some computer on the rear wall. He and Donatello, I decided, must have gotten along famously.

"I was wondering where you went," I told the kangaroo.

"I saw the Turtles unfolding their van in front of that office building and asked for help," he said.

When I shot him a skeptical look, he said, "That thing is not my friend any more than it is yours. She and her demons could ruin Misty's company."

His words made me feel like jumping in bed with the reptile, just to spite him, and `Misty.' Almost.

I frowned, giving him a nod. "Sounds like we have a truce of some sort, or a temporary alliance."

"Yes. Perhaps it is that."

During our fight, Michelangelo and Leonardo had cut Cleo down from the tree, and she seemed no worse for wear. Dane and Amanda, however, had welts, puffy cheeks, and bruises.

"There are some drawbacks to being human," my sister groaned.

"Tell me about it," Dane said.

Riffraff and the Turtles climbed in, then I found Master Splinter seating himself next to me. "Does it bother you that I sit here?"

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I had just been wondering what he'd look like without the robe. "N-no," I stammered. "It's fine."

"I've just put the coordinates to the hotel into the computer," Whiskers announced to Donatello. "You should be able to find the place, even with all the birds and monsters."

April stared at the screen on her dashboard for a moment, then started up the van, bumping over the school's front lawn to the street. Michelangelo and Raphael took position at a pair of cannons, blasting demons, angry birds and other threats away from the doors.

Splinter smiled at me, wrapping his tail around mine.

"Full disclosure," I said. "I'm actually a man, and I'm not a doodle."

He squeezed my hand. "Nobody's perfect."

"You have spent too much time in the sewer," I muttered, but little hearts popped out of my kimono.

We hit a bump, and I found myself doubling over in pain. I flickered human and stayed that way for about ten minutes, gasping for air. For some reason the stuff I drank had interfered with either my breathing or my heart, and it was catching up with me.

"You were not...shitting," Splinter said like some old guy trying to emulate what the young kids of today were saying.

"I told you," I groaned.

The sensei paused for a moment.

"Still, this does not change my feelings for you."

I grimaced. "Uh, thanks, Master Splinter. That's actually...really disturbing."

The Turtlemobile rolled down the Vegas Strip, passing Caesar's Palace and the Golden Nugget. People pointed and stared at us. Kids shouted and waving excitedly. They had seen the turtles in CGI. They had never heard of the horror that is the Coming Out Of Their Shells Tour, so they were full of enthusiasm.

The fact we had fans didn't bother me. What bothered me was the fact that half of them were cartoon birds, and they blocked the windows, severely limiting visibility.

"There!" Whiskers announced all of a sudden. "We're here!"

When I got out of the van and looked up, I was reminded of the finale of Ghostbusters. (Well, if the Gothic penthouse apartment in that movie had been downgraded to a sleazy seventies style casino hotel). A towering building with a dazzling ray of energy blazing up the night sky like a light saber, surrounded by vast clouds of ghostly glowing amorphous shapes.

I wasn't going to relish the hike to that rooftop.

Suddenly my dad made an appearance, turning pale as he stared up at the roof. "Good Lord, not again!"

Before I could ask him how he got there, Officer Harris came up the sidewalk, making tsk noises as he glared at me, shaking his head. "Deebes Junior. I knew you were bad news the moment you stepped into our world. How the hell did you screw things up this time?"

"Oh no you don't!" I said. "Don't go blaming this one on me! You want someone to blame?" I cocked at thumb at dad. "Ask his stupid neighbor lady, the one that blew up Epcot!"

"I heard you two were rather close," Dad said.

"It didn't work out. Her brain has a few screws loose."

"That's just terrific! Another psychotic slut trying to destroy the whole damn world with a glowing spike!"

"Five glowing spikes," I corrected.

Harris smacked himself in the face. "That's it. We're dead."

"Not if this psychotic slut has anything to say about it," Holli growled, stomping up to the revolving door.

00000000000

Jessica

000000000

The mouse kissed me, and I kissed back, but only for a moment before I pushed him away. "Sneezer, honey, you're scrumptious, but there's the teensy little problem of reptile lady taking all four spikes of power and destroying the world and everything. Could we take care of that first?"

"Yes ma'am!" he cried eagerly, leaping to his feet. "She's got a magic staff. It turns people into birds. Do you have a magic staff?"

I picked up a stub of a pencil from the floor. "I can get one."

The only reason why I thought of this was because of Misty and Disney World. I'm largely animated, and there were some blank spaces left on the professor's dusty old hotel room that I could still draw things on.

I drew my magic staff next to someone's fantastic graffiti depicting a castle door. It seemed oddly fitting.

I got a little carried away, I think. My power staff looked like some ridiculous prop for an action figure, complete with skulls, rubies, intertwined serpents, retractable sword blade, and an acetylene torch.

When I pulled it out of the wall, and it turned 3D, I frowned at the thought of actually hitting someone with such high quality workmanship. Oh well.

The way to the rooftop was boarded up, and they had shut the room off from the rest of the hotel with boards and big pieces of plastic.

I really needed to get to the roof.

"Sneezer, can you be a dear and sniff some dust? Maybe blow those boards away?"

The mouse shook his head. "Sorry, lady. I kinda took some medicine."

"Then you shouldn't be called Sneezer anymore. You should be Cave Mouse or something."

He shrugged. "Maybe you're right. But all my friends still know me as Sneezer."

I shook my head in annoyance. "Does that club of yours do anything besides knocking people upside the head?"

"Yeah. It can knock down walls and everything."

I looked around, searching the floor. "Where is it?"

"I think it's...on the other side of the mirror."

I smacked my forehead. "Beautiful."

I took a pencil and drew a bunch of bombs. I drew some dynamite, grenades, and those black round ones with wicks that they always show in cartoons.

I set a bomb next to the plywood wall, lighting it with the torch. It blew the wall to bits.

I caught the spike stealing bird master just a second after she grabbed the scaffolding on the big sign. "Hey!" I shouted.

She turned around to face me with a snarl.

Then, with a derisive snort, she turned back around, climbing the scaffolds in search of the last spike.

"Not so fast, bird brain!" I yelled.

Since she ignored me, I lit a bomb and threw it after her.

The bomb exploded, breaking the scaffolding apart.

The bird master fell from her perch, rolling back onto the roof.

She growled, raising her trident threateningly.

I twirled my own staff in response. "Bring it, bitch!"