The sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the tranquil lake as Wee Red and his father sat side by side on the weathered wooden dock. With their fishing rods in hand and lines cast into the water, they waited in comfortable silence, the gentle lapping of the waves providing a soothing soundtrack to their moment of serenity.

Father glanced at his son, noticing the dark shadow that marred the young boy's eye, a tender bruise etched upon his delicate features. His heart clenched with concern, but he chose his words carefully, not wanting to invade his son's emotional boundaries.

"Hey, buddy," the father began, his voice gentle and warm. "How'd you get that black eye? Did something happen at school? Or...maybe after? Maybe...with the Oak kid?"

The young boy shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the bobber floating atop the water's surface. He remained silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words to convey his feelings. Finally, he turned to his father, his eyes brimming with unspoken pain.

"Snitches get stitches," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

Father nodded. Good lad, he thought to himself.

"He's not going to stop, you know. Kids like him, no one's ever told them no."

Red sighed.

"I know," the boy offered meekly. "But, like...you can't beat up an orphan, Dad...isn't that immoral?"

"Having dead parents isn't an excuse to be an asshole, son."

"Well, don't worry. No matter what happens to you, I won't ever be like him."

Green stood atop a stump and howled his most convincing Dr. Houndoom howl, a roar that would echo across time and space. He was mere moments from completing his master plan, which would eliminate the Rangers once and for all, allowing him total control over the universe. And there was just one thing in his way...

"You're out of your element, Dr. Houndoom!" Wee Red bellowed triumphantly, mouthing sound effects to represent the light trails behind his wickedly-fast martial arts. "I will defeat you - I am sure of it!"

"Yeah, right!" Green sneered, that smarmy, nasally voice. "You and what army?"

"Joey, now!" Red yelled. and from the nearby bushes exploded a young boy wearing denim shorts, with a manic look in his eyes and a frying pan in his hands. "Use the Cosmic Mace of Power!"

Joey swung the frying pan with great force but stopped short of smashing Green in the face with it; you wouldn't have known it with his convincing performance, throwing himself from the stump to the dirt with all of the fiery passion of a third year thespian.

"We have defeated the evil th-" Red began his victory speech, before suddenly feeling a very real and very sharp pain on the back of his thigh. Green squeezed the skin with all of his might and twisted, and the young boy yelped as he fell to the ground in agony.

"Not so fast," Green growled, and Red knew that this was no longer a game. "Poison attack!"

Green splashed the foul, odorous ichor in Red's face and started to kick him as he went down. The stink bomb shortcircuited Red's brain - he couldn't see. He couldn't hear. Even the intense pain of the beating seemed mute beneath the overwhelming, sour, pungent stink.

Kids like him, no one has ever told them no.

He's not going to stop.

He's not going to stop.

"Stop-" Red managed weakly between kicks, most of the air forced from his lungs by Green's boot.

"What was that?" he mocked, before he felt Wee Red rise up underneath him and toss him backward. Green landed on his backside with a sharp shock.

"I SAID ST-"

Red, standing bloodied and bruised, looked beyond Green as he stumbled back to his feet. Standing several feet away on its hind legs was a small, yellow rodent with bright red cheeks. And for a split second as a cloud of crackling, blinding lightning formed behind Green, Red made eye contact with the rodent.

That same look from before.

The way they all looked at him now.

The collapsing air sucked the wind out of the boys' lungs as an incredible surge of power erupted forth from the rodent's perky red cheeks, a massive column of plasma rising like a lightning bolt on the spot where the boy once called Green Oak stood. Red and Joey covered their eyes but the damage was done; inside their eyelids, flashing colorbursts danced like a kaleidoscope.

Everything went white, and then black, and Green's body crumped to the ground, his fair skin burnt head to toe, parts of his scalp hanging cooked from his skull.