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Heroes in a Half Shell

Heroes in a Half Shell


You wake up from your bunk and drop to the floor of your room, stretching your arms and yawning. You slept in a bit today and are off to a late start.

Stepping out from your room you find two of your companions practicing thier skills in the den while your sensai meditates in a quiet corner. You and your companions are the side effect of a sludge-like mutation. Once you were turtles without self awareness, and now you are all adolecent mutant turtles who practise martial arts and fight crime. You sensai is a mutant rat/man known as Splinter.

A little sludge drips down from the cieling. This place is a dump. You head past them to your laboratory from which a strange smokey odor eminates. You open the door to a cloud of smoke. At first you panic, thinking that one of your machines may have exploded, but then you see an orange bandana and recognize the smell from the streets above.

You find Michelangelo burning a fat spliff in the corner of the room. Beside him is Casey Jones, one of your teams allies. His hockey mask is pulled up and sits atop his head. He is the only one here who is not a mutant of some sort.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Michaelangelo?!" You hollar.

"Just smoking a little ganja, braw. Chill out, dude, it's all good." The mutant turtle-man with the orange bandana says to you with his rediculous surfer accent.

It pisses you off that he speaks like that. He's never been near the sea and he's never been surfing. You live in the sewars of New York, not the beaches of California. He is such a jack ass.

"I thought you quit smoking that crap." You remind him.

"I did. But then Casey found this great hook up."

"The rastas." Casey says.

"Get the hell out of my lab with that shit!! If master Splinter knew what you were doing..." You threaten.

"Alright, alright." Michaelangelo says, hitting the spliff one more time before putting it out on the wall. "You don't have to go all asshole on me, Don."

"You haven't seen my asshole yet!" You retort.

"And I hope I never do, bra. That's disgusting." He returns. Casey and him snicker at this comment and share a high five as they head towards the door.

"I think I'm getting a contact high." You say to yourself as they open the door.

As they exit out of the room you hear Michaelangelo comment to Casey a desire to order a peanut butter and tomato pizza. He orders that all the time, and it's disgusting. You've always wondered how that combination could be appealing to him, but now you understand. Michaelangelo is smoking pot again.

You sigh deeply and look around the lab. The hoverboard you were repairing sits over in the corner, it needs a new dilithium generator, but you're not sure where you can even find one of those. There's the hyper speed chemical dink you've been working on for a few months, but have not yet come through with any succesfull results. And Michaelangelo keeps suggesting you make a hallucinogen with your chemicals to raise some money for repairs around your sewer home, but that could mean spreading drugs to the public.

You've got quite a few hours ahead of you before it's time for your training, what do you do?
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