LobsterMagnet
Fri, 06-10-2005, 11:18 AM
I had to do something to make up for the whole debacle and trying to post pictures of my dear captain crunch. This is a short story I wrote for a workshop. It's a nice satirical piece revolving around some figures who I think most you will rmemember from your childhoods. I hope that if any of you take the time to read it that you'll enjoy it.
If everyone has a unique and special purpose in life, then Davids was simply to fill space. In some ways, David was aware of this, but it never seemed to bug him. He had enjoyed the slightly above-average life of a Caucasian born into a nice suburb, complete with white picket fences and busy soccer moms eagerly driving their extensive brood from one scheduled activity to another. David liked the neighborhood he grew up in during late eighties, but he never wanted to stay in that neighborhood or live in any place closely resembling it. Like many of his other slightly above-average Caucasian male peers, he wanted to move to New York. After getting his bachelors degree from a small liberal arts college -- one so indistinguishable from other small liberal arts colleges that even he had difficulty remembering its name, thats precisely what he did.
He landed a midlevel entry position at a small accounting firm through the use of a family connection or two. David was the proud Assistant Vice Executive Creative Promotional Marketing Manager. David never really understood what his title actually meant, but it made him sound important. Plus it also impressed the ladies at various bars and night clubs he attended. All he had to do at the office was answer the occasional phone call, sign some forms, attend an occasional meeting he was invited to, and sit back and play Tetris on his computer for the rest of the day.
Thats what happened on most days, but unfortunately for him, this Friday was different. He stared blankly at the huge stack of accounting files that lay before him. He stared at them long and hard trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with them. David wondered to himself, did he actually have to do real work? Of all the times to be forced to do real work, why did it have to be a Friday, why did it have to be this Friday? David had planned to do something with his slightly above-average Caucasian friend Mike, who also worked at the accounting firm. He and Mike usually went club-hopping together on Fridays, but this Friday was different, Mike had scored tickets to an NBA game. A loud knock at his office door startled him, Come in, he said.
In strode Mike with his usual confident swagger. Hey, Dave, you ready for the game tonight? Its going to be great, plus I got tenth row seats, well practically be right on top of those Laker girls.
David replied with a sigh. I just got a ton of paper work.
Give it to that new accountant, said Mike.
I dont know, said David, I really should stay here and get this done myself.
Cmon! You cant be a pussy and expect to get any, Mike snapped with a tinge of impatience.
David finally caved, just like he usually did with Mike, Alright! Alright, already. Fine, lets just get this over with.
In one of those cubicles down on the fifth floor, where they keep the rest of those number crunchers.
David got up from his leather rolling chair and walked to the front of his desk. He wrestled with the mass of papers but strained to pick them up. Mike stared at David and wondered if those papers were so heavy that even David had difficulty in lifting them from his desk. He and David had both attended the New York Sports club on a regular basis.
David started to breathe heavily. Despite his panting, he was able to stammer to Mike, Hey, could you give me a little help here? Just take a few of the files off of the top. Mike walked over to David and lifted off some extra weight off the top of the load. With a sigh of relief, David said, Ah, thats much better. Come on lets go.
David and Mike proceeded to the elevator and took it down to the fifth floor. When they arrived, they got out and proceeded past the receptionist desk and moved towards the accountants cubicles. All of the cubicles were housed in a single space. Mike and David walked into the center aisle of cubicles. They passed by several name tags identifying the occupants of the cubicle until they reached one labeled Leo.
Mike whispered to Dave, Heres your guy. David entered the cubicle with a confident stride. David usually spent little to no time around the accountants themselves. Hed heard some rumors about them from the secretaries and janitor, but other than that, he really didnt know what to expect. David walked within Leos cubicle and saw Leo was sitting behind his computer doing some sort of thing that David could only assume accountants did. Upon hearing David enter his cubicle domain Leo turned around to face his guests. Leo was wearing a white buttoned collar shirt with a red tie. David couldnt quite put his finger on it but something about Leo struck him as very odd.
The first thing that caught Davids eye was the large oval hump protruding from Leos back. His shirt seemed to be stretched around it, forming a smooth surface on his back without any wrinkles. He only seemed to have three fingers and they were all grossly oversized. The last thing that struck David was Leos skin complexion. Something about it didnt seem natural. Leo had pasty white skin that didnt quite look like it was his natural skin color. In fact David noticed that on Leos bald head there were some greenish brown patches where Leos white complexion didnt seem to be nearly as consistent as it was on his face. Leo also had large oval cheeks that protruded from his face.
After entering Leos cubicle David couldnt quite shake the notion that something was very wrong. Something about Leo struck him as being very awkward; it was almost like he was hiding something. His skin complexion and color didnt seem natural, almost as if Leo had used makeup. Something about Leo seemed very foreign to David. David thought and pondered what this could all mean. Then David was struck with an idea. Leo must be a terrorist! David thought to himself, He was probably a part of a cell, one of those; oh what do you call them? Sleepers, thats it sleepers, thats what theyre called! Was Leo actually a terrorist who had infiltrated his country in order to wait for an opportunity to attack?
No, that couldnt be the answer. There was probably a logical explanation for all the abnormalities that David saw. Like that large oval hump on his back, its probably the result from some genetic disease, like cystic fibrosis or scoliosis. The fingers were also probably the result of some sort of birth defect. Davids heart suddenly skipped a beat. Could Leo actually be one of those disabled people who get all of the good parking spaces? If so, David had to be very careful. Any misstep he made could be interpreted as discrimination. If he wasnt careful he might have those politically correct people who keep whining about equality breathing down his neck. There would be lawsuits and he might even be forced to attend a training camp or seminar. Worse yet, he might even lose his job!
Davids confident strike slowed down to a cautious crawl. He approached Leo as one would an armed nuclear weapon. David spoke slowly, taking extra care to closely monitor what he was saying, Hello Leo, nice to meet you. Words been spreading around about how youre supposed to be the new ace accountant. Here are a few more numbers for you to crunch. A loud thud sounded as David dropped the papers he had been holding on Leos desk. Mike followed suit.
David said, With all that hard work youre going to be noticed. This should be a piece of cake for you. Just make sure you have all the figures on my desk by Monday. Oh, and have a good weekend.
David walked out of the cubicle and thought to himself how that had been much easier then he thought it would be. Now he was nice and free to enjoy the upcoming weekend. Those papers werent his problem anymore.
Leo gave a soft inaudible sigh as he sifted through the massive pile that littered his once clean desk. He had learned to put up with this crap before. He was used to dealing with extra work especially when he got a new job. He didnt mind getting the work done but he knew it would take him an extra hour or two, which meant that once again hed be late for the Friday night dinner with his family. Leo sighed once more. What had happened to his life? It used to be a lot more exciting. In fact his teen years were packed with so much excitement that everything hed done since left him with a bitter aftertaste. It was as if for those few glorious years he had drunk nothing else but highly concentrated sugary fruit punch, but now all he could drink was watery apple juice. One thing he knew for sure was that his wife and three children needed to be fed, and they also needed a roof over their heads. He never quite understood why they couldnt just live underground like he had during his childhood, but his wife wouldnt have it. She refused to live underground despite the benefits of cheap housing and easy transportation around the city. His kids also had a hard time in school because all the other kids made fun of them because of the smell.
Leo decided that hed need to call his wife to let her know that hed be home late once again. He hesitantly picked up his phones receiver; His fingers were too big to dial individual numbers so he usually used a pencil to dial his home phone number. Leo waited patiently as he waited for the familiar voice of his wife to pick up. The call connected and Leo heard yelling and screaming in the background, Hello! Hello! Who is this? Because if its another telemarketing call I swear Im going to hang up.
April, its me Leo. Im sorry to bug you it sounds like youre busy, but I think Im going to be home late.
What! Again? Youve got to be kidding me. Thats the third time this week. I need you here to help me with the kids! You should know that Friday is our special family meal time.
I know, I know, listen April. Theres nothing I can do about it. One of my superiors sprung some work on me at the last minute. Its going to take me another hour or two to wrap it up. I promise Ill get someone to help you with the kids once I get my first paycheck.
Alright then, at least bring something home with you for dinner, cause god knows Im not cooking tonight. Get some take-out. Maybe bring back some Chinese food?
How about I pick up a pizza? Does that sound good? Ill get a pie with some sodas. Leo smiled a little bit. Despite all the years that had passed, he still loved pizza.
Thats fine, just bring back something. The kids will probably be so starving by then theyll probably eat anything without a fuss. Leo then heard a large crash in the background followed by loud, piercing screaming, I told you not to climb on the kitchen cabinet! Look what you did to your brother! Alright Leo Ill see you soon. Also, before I forget, I should tell you that someone was calling for you earlier today. They left a message; apparently your father has passed away.
Smoke billowed into the cold crisp night air as David opened the door that led into the bar. Hed had plenty to drink at the game but Mike had insisted that they had to come to this bar. David, being the least inebriated of the pair, had been forced into the position of becoming the designated driver and shepherding Mike around until he could convince him to go home.
Mike wobbled forward as he tried to stammer something out, This place here is fucking great, its really really really reallllllllyeeeee goooood. David looked around and he didnt see anything particularly special. It was like any other low-end bar; there was a twenty-seven inch television that was hung up in the far left corner that overlooked the pool table in center and long line of bar stools that congregated in a straight line right next to the bar table. It seemed like it was probably a slow night considering that the bar was scarcely populated. The few people who were there seemed to fit into the forty-something working class crowd who probably came here every night in order to escape from their nagging wives. There was one person who did stand out amongst the crowd. He was seated atop a bar stool, wearing a brown trench coat and a hat of matching color that reminded David of one of those old black and white noir detective movies. David couldnt take his eyes off of the guy seated atop of the bar stool. He couldnt quite put his finger on it, but something about him struck David as being very familiar. Then it hit him, who ever this guy was had a very peculiar back, it almost seemed as if a large oval object was protruding from it. The trench coat seemed to stretch around the large oval mass and form a smooth surface with hundreds of different hexagon shaped grooves. He seemed to also have three large oversized fingers which he was currently using to cradle a beer mug. He kinda reminded David of that guy from accounting, what was his name again?
There was no one seated next to the trench coat guy and since he was at the far end of the bar table is was clear that he wanted to be alone. Everyone else in the bar seemed to pick up on this subtle message except Mike. Mike staggered forward in the general direction of the trench-coated guy. Mike then raised his arm and proceeded to place it over his shoulder. David could see that the trench-coated guy was annoyed; hell anyone could see that, anyone except Mike. Mike then pressed his face close, very close, way past what most would consider to be within their comfort zone. He opened his mouth and the poor trench coat guy was hit with the hot repugnant stench of stagnating watered down stadium beer and pretzels. Hey, arent you that guy, you know, that guy from that thing? The man in the trench coat uttered a low growl and then spoke back in low tone that seethed with malice, Get away from me.
Hugh, whachaya say?
I said, get away from me!
Speak up guy, I still cant hear ya.
I said get the fuck off of ME!!!
The trench coated man rose up in rage from his seat and in one swift motion grabbed a three pronged-weapon that David didnt recognize. The weapon looked familiar to David, like it was from some sort of martial arts movie. The trench coated man rose up his glistening weapon and then slammed it down on right through Mikes hand, impaling it on the bar stool. It took a few seconds for Mike to register what had just happened, but once his head had caught up with his body he let out a howl.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY HAND!
The bartender sprung into action with calm cool efficiently, as if this wasnt the first time hed had to deal with such a problem. I gave a quick authoritative shout to the guy who was closest to the phone, Call 911 now! Tell them we have another stab wound victim and they need to send down an ambulance down here as quickly as possible. With a grim expression of sadness and frustration the bartender turned towards the trench coated man.
Listen, Raphael, get out of here, now! I cant put up with this bullshit anymore. Thats the second time this month that youve used those damn things. Youre a good bouncer but youve become a liability that I just cant afford anymore. Get out of here now before the cops come and start asking questions, and dont come back, ever! Your banned from here on out. If I see your face here again, Ill tell the cops exactly where they can find you.
Raphael picked up his bottle of scotch and quietly sulked his way to the door. Despite his attempt at subtlety everyone in the bar was staring at him. Thats what they always did, they just liked to stare. Raphael had grown sick and tired of the staring, hed always yearned to have someone to talk too, someone, anyone who would sit down and listen to the things he had to say, but no one ever did. All he had to do was take his hat off and theyd always run away. Theyd either run away or try to sell him off to some laboratory. Maybe thats why hed felt so angry all these years. None of his brothers ever seemed to have a problem with being different, they never seemed to understand that theyd never be accepted, they could never walk the streets in broad daylight. Maybe his other brothers never seemed to have a problem with being so different was because they had each other. After Master Splinter had told them that he had taught them everything he knew there wasnt much reason for them to say together. That didnt matter anymore though, Raphael knew he was alone. He wasnt quite sure how many years had past since they had each gone their separate ways, but he didnt care.
All he did care about was finding a reliable source of alcohol so he could drown away his sorrows. Raphael stumbled down the dark alleyway. He was angry, but there was no one to take it out on. When he was younger there were always outlets for his aggression - whether it was robotic ninjas or bizarre creatures from other dimensions, there way always something to hit. Now the best he could do was throw his scotch bottle at the tall, lonely, indifferent brick wall. There was nothing more he could do tonight; hed just have to find another bar or liquor store tomorrow.
Raphael reached the door that led to his cheap apartment above the Hunan House. It was the only place he could afford. In his half drunken daze he fumbled with the keys as he tried to open the door. Upon entering his apartment, Raphael was greeted with the familiar sight of nothing. Hed never had enough money to even consider doing some more elaborate decoration. All he had was a single mattress and a coat hanger for his trench coat, hat, and red bandana. As Raphael hung up his coat he heard his answering machine click, this was odd seeing as no one ever bothered to call him, he wasnt even sure if anyone even knew his number. He heard a low deep voice droll out its message from his machine. It said, I regret to inform you that your father whom you, and your brothers have placed in our care has recently passed away.
David was speeding. He was going down the Jersey turnpike at speeds that were easily exceeding 80 MPH, but he didnt care, he didnt even bother to look at the odometer. Hed just taken Mike to the emergency room. He couldnt just go home and go to sleep, he needed something to soothe his shattered nerves and calm himself down and he knew exactly where to get it. It meant that he had to leave the city, though. One of his old high school friends Ben George had never really done anything after graduating. He became a small time pot dealer living in his mothers basement which he used as both a place of residence and a base of operations for his business.
David saw the exit highlighted in green neon and he got off. David had gotten off the cold lonely highway and reentered the all too familiar suburbs of his youth. While this neighborhood wasnt exactly where hed grown up, it was pretty close. Then again hed be hard-pressed to tell one suburb apart from another. He wasnt too far from his destination now; just a few more blocks and hed be there. David passed a few more scattered picket fences covering the front yards that were occasionally adorned with a stray bike or plastic swimming pool. He finally reached his destination; it was a large three-story white house with red shutters. David wasnt quite sure what time it was but he knew it was late, probably past 12AM, Ben kept the side door open just for occasions like this. The side door creaked open; it led to a set of wooden stairs that went to both the basement and the first floor kitchen. Upon reaching the bottom David felt his senses begin to numb as he was surrounded by a heavy layer of intoxicating smoke. The room was covered with various pin-ups and posters from High Times; there were also a few Grateful Dead posters. Ben George was seated on a large bean bag chair surrounded by two other guys who David had never seen before. The guy on Bens right wore a tie-dyed poncho made of hemp; he was laid back in a hammock, eating a slice of pizza. David was looking forward to sitting down relaxing with a joint until he saw the person seated to Bens right.
David had only been immersed in the smoke for a few seconds, it couldnt have affected his senses that much, but what other explanation was there for the thing that was sitting so casually in front of him. He couldnt really describe it; it was like a large green frog man. It had large overgrown fingers which reminded him of Leo and that trench coated guy from the bar. It also had dark green skin and was wearing an orange bandana around its head with two slits punctured in for eye holes. It seemed to have on some kind of armor around its chest that extended all the way to the back forming a large oval shell. Maybe it wasnt a frog; it was more like a turtle. It was a giant walking turtle. David stared at the giant bipedal turtle man in disbelief for several seconds then Ben noticed he was there.
Hey Davy, long time no see, how you doing man?
Ah, Ben, whats that thing over there?
The guy in the hemp poncho stirred in his hammock and leaned over to face David.
You can see him too? Hey, Ben, I guess you were right, he is real.
The weird turtle creature began to speak, How many times have we gone over this? Im real all right; now pass over a slice of that pizza.
I dont know man; Ive seen some pretty trippy stuff before, for all I know you could be working with that penguin guy that I saw last week.
Yeah, but thats the difference, you saw the penguin last week and now hes gone. Im still here. I was here last week and the week before and by now you should get the idea.
Youre far out you know that, youre really far out. Hey you, new dude who just walked in you got take a hit of this shit and listen to one of like this guys stories. There like incredible. Hey Mikey tell him that one about, like, the brain from the other dimension who, like, sent robot ninjas after you.
His full name was Michelangelo but everyone who came by just called him Mikey. No matter how much he tried he could never convince anyone that he was real. They all believed him to be some sort of hallucination spawned by a bizarre combination of strong pot and watching Yellow Submarine and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a few too many times. The only one who believed he was real was Ben, but, then, again hed been living with Ben in this basement for so many years, how could Ben not realize that he was real. Mikey had tried smoking the stuff that Ben sold, but it didnt seem to affect him at all. It probably didnt affect him because of his unique biology. The reason why he stayed there was because it was the only place where he was accepted. Most of the people who came down to hang out with Ben or buy pot from him didnt really believe he existed. They all thought of him as a drug induced illusion. As sad as it might seem to live amongst a group of people who couldnt quite decide if you existed or not, he knew it was the only place he could go. It was the only place where he could be himself and not have to travel incognito. Hed heard about Leonardo trying to use makeup to fit in with the other humans and live out a natural life, but all he was doing was denying his heritage, denying his true identity. He was just a poser.
Michelangelo didnt mind living amongst stoners but he missed his brothers; in some ways he missed his father. Hed always been a slacker, the joker of the group, but he just did that so he could be disciplined. In truth he liked the strict training, he liked discipline, but he didnt know how to lead disciplined life. After he and his brothers had left their father he lost his sense of control and order. His once finely chiseled muscles have become flabby and his lighting quick reflexes had dulled. At the very least, hed gotten a steady diet of pizza and all the mountain dew he could drink, but then again that might be the reason why his lighting fast reflexes had dulled and how his once toned arms became flabby.
Ben looked over to Michelangelo and said, Hey did you see the piece of mail that came for you?
No I didnt, you know I cant go up there, especially not during the daytime.
Yeah I know, I know you dont like the daylight, Ive heard your reasons a thousand times before, but I dont know this really weird letter came for you. It came from Pet Land Discounts. Dont know why theyd mail you but something tells me you might want to read it.
Fine whatever; just throw the damn thing over here.
Michelangelo picked up the letter apprehensively and opened it. The top left had the cute little Pet Land Discounts logo with a nice smiling gold fish but the actual body of the letter was not quite as cheery.
I regret to inform you that your rat Mr. M Splinter, whom you have boarded with us for the past ten years, has passed away. You have ten days to pay the boarding fee and collect the corpse or else well be forced toss it in the dumpster out back.
Sincerely, Joel Tabor
Manager of Pet Land Discounts
Donetello had just finished his shift at Electronics Boutique and he was glad it was over. Donetello liked technology; he liked fiddling with high tech gadgets and inventing new contraptions. He could never get a foothold in the industry though. The best he could do was to get an entry level sales position at a video game retailer. He didnt mind it at first, but it started to grate on his nerves as time passed by. He was getting tired of constantly being harassed by little kids asking about the release date of the PlayStation 3. He was tired of being haggled by mothers, because he refused to sell violent games to their nagging ten-year old children. He was tired of that one guy who kept on trying to get a refund for the entire game collection he ruined by putting it in his washing machine. Most of all, he was tired of having to pose as an Ork from Lord of the Rings just so he could go to work without extensive facial makeup.
Normally he was happy to get off work, but this time was different. Hed just received the news about Master Splinters death. He needed to get to Pet Land Discounts as soon as possible if he was to ensure that Splinter would receive a proper burial. Itd been a long time since he and his brothers had decided to board Splinter and go their separate ways. Maybe hed send them an e-mail to notify them about the funeral. The cost of boarding splinter for so many years would definitely drain what little money hed managed to save. He probably wouldnt be able to afford a proper burial. Maybe if he was lucky he could get Splinter to be buried in a pet cemetery.
Donetello reached Pet Land Discounts minutes before it closed. It had become a ragged pet shop filled with various mangy, disgruntled animals that looked rabid. It was run by a plump little short balding man named Joel Tabor. He was never particularly pleasant, and upon seeing Donetello enter his store he looked even grumpier. Then again, most people wouldnt be very happy if they had a scrappy looking oversized rat dumped on them for several years without notice.
Joel spoke in a dull flat voice, he said, Its in the back. He motioned Donetello to follow him past the aisles of bird seed and kitty litter, past the gold fish and the ferrets to the backroom where few had ever ventured. Here is where most of the animals were boarded. A few birds and some dogs in crates barked in protest of Donatellos entry. Joel pointed to a large glass cage filled with cedar chips.
He said, Here it is, if you want it back Im going to need at least eight hundred dollars. That should cover the first set of expenses, but Im going to need several payments if youre going to work out the total cost of boarding.
Donetello replied, Theres no way I can pay that! Not with my current salary. All I can give you is two hundred for now. Ill get the rest later but thats all I can give you right now.
You listen to me, okay! Youre the one who gave me this miserable animal without any notice of when you would pick it up. I kept it alive, I paid for its food with money of my own pocket, Im more entitled to do whatever the hell I feel like with it then you are, so either get rest of the cash or it goes in the back with all the other dead mice and goldfish.
Donetello was about to sulk out of the store in defeat when a familiar voice chimed in, Ill pay for it. Donetello looked behind him and saw Leonardo. He was in shock to see his brother, after so many years, although at first Donetello had difficulty recognizing him because of his makeup.
Leo, are you serious? How can pay for all that?
Leonardo replied bitterly, Ill have to take it out of my savings and my family wont be able to go on a vacation for the next two years, but yeah, I can pay for it. Its the least I can do for Splinter.
Then a loud voice boomed behind them, Master Splinter deserved a lot better then just being thrown in a cage with wood chips and being fed gerbil pellets. Donetello and Leonardo both turned around and they were faced with a familiar crimson red bandanna; it was Raphael.
Leonardo retorted, Well I dont remember you eagerly volunteering to take care of him. I had a family to feed; there was no way I could afford to take care of an elderly rat.
Raphael replied, Dont you remember the ninja code which we swore by?
What exactly have you done to uphold that code? Last I heard you were found drunk in some dumpster.
Leonardo was starting to test Raphaels patience. How could he have the nerve to attack him so viciously when he came to pay his respects to Splinter? He put one of his hands in his trench-coat pocket and gripped his weapon tightly. If Leo wanted a fight he was more then ready to give him one.
Then from behind came a loud shout, Stop it Stop it!! You two fighting would have been the last thing he would have wanted. All three turtles turned around to see Michelangelo. The last of the estranged brothers had returned.
Theres nothing we can do about whats already happened, the best thing we can do now is work together to ensure that Master Splinter gets a halfway decent burial. Theres no way we can respect his memory if we just keep on fighting and bickering about the past.
All of the turtles fell silent. They had all taken different paths, but had they really been so divided? They had all been reunited for the same reason. So as the sun set on the small strip mall that housed Pet Land Discounts four, figures walked off into the distance. Maybe they were fading away as the sunset on their past, or maybe they were walking forward to meet the future and the adventures yet to come.
If everyone has a unique and special purpose in life, then Davids was simply to fill space. In some ways, David was aware of this, but it never seemed to bug him. He had enjoyed the slightly above-average life of a Caucasian born into a nice suburb, complete with white picket fences and busy soccer moms eagerly driving their extensive brood from one scheduled activity to another. David liked the neighborhood he grew up in during late eighties, but he never wanted to stay in that neighborhood or live in any place closely resembling it. Like many of his other slightly above-average Caucasian male peers, he wanted to move to New York. After getting his bachelors degree from a small liberal arts college -- one so indistinguishable from other small liberal arts colleges that even he had difficulty remembering its name, thats precisely what he did.
He landed a midlevel entry position at a small accounting firm through the use of a family connection or two. David was the proud Assistant Vice Executive Creative Promotional Marketing Manager. David never really understood what his title actually meant, but it made him sound important. Plus it also impressed the ladies at various bars and night clubs he attended. All he had to do at the office was answer the occasional phone call, sign some forms, attend an occasional meeting he was invited to, and sit back and play Tetris on his computer for the rest of the day.
Thats what happened on most days, but unfortunately for him, this Friday was different. He stared blankly at the huge stack of accounting files that lay before him. He stared at them long and hard trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with them. David wondered to himself, did he actually have to do real work? Of all the times to be forced to do real work, why did it have to be a Friday, why did it have to be this Friday? David had planned to do something with his slightly above-average Caucasian friend Mike, who also worked at the accounting firm. He and Mike usually went club-hopping together on Fridays, but this Friday was different, Mike had scored tickets to an NBA game. A loud knock at his office door startled him, Come in, he said.
In strode Mike with his usual confident swagger. Hey, Dave, you ready for the game tonight? Its going to be great, plus I got tenth row seats, well practically be right on top of those Laker girls.
David replied with a sigh. I just got a ton of paper work.
Give it to that new accountant, said Mike.
I dont know, said David, I really should stay here and get this done myself.
Cmon! You cant be a pussy and expect to get any, Mike snapped with a tinge of impatience.
David finally caved, just like he usually did with Mike, Alright! Alright, already. Fine, lets just get this over with.
In one of those cubicles down on the fifth floor, where they keep the rest of those number crunchers.
David got up from his leather rolling chair and walked to the front of his desk. He wrestled with the mass of papers but strained to pick them up. Mike stared at David and wondered if those papers were so heavy that even David had difficulty in lifting them from his desk. He and David had both attended the New York Sports club on a regular basis.
David started to breathe heavily. Despite his panting, he was able to stammer to Mike, Hey, could you give me a little help here? Just take a few of the files off of the top. Mike walked over to David and lifted off some extra weight off the top of the load. With a sigh of relief, David said, Ah, thats much better. Come on lets go.
David and Mike proceeded to the elevator and took it down to the fifth floor. When they arrived, they got out and proceeded past the receptionist desk and moved towards the accountants cubicles. All of the cubicles were housed in a single space. Mike and David walked into the center aisle of cubicles. They passed by several name tags identifying the occupants of the cubicle until they reached one labeled Leo.
Mike whispered to Dave, Heres your guy. David entered the cubicle with a confident stride. David usually spent little to no time around the accountants themselves. Hed heard some rumors about them from the secretaries and janitor, but other than that, he really didnt know what to expect. David walked within Leos cubicle and saw Leo was sitting behind his computer doing some sort of thing that David could only assume accountants did. Upon hearing David enter his cubicle domain Leo turned around to face his guests. Leo was wearing a white buttoned collar shirt with a red tie. David couldnt quite put his finger on it but something about Leo struck him as very odd.
The first thing that caught Davids eye was the large oval hump protruding from Leos back. His shirt seemed to be stretched around it, forming a smooth surface on his back without any wrinkles. He only seemed to have three fingers and they were all grossly oversized. The last thing that struck David was Leos skin complexion. Something about it didnt seem natural. Leo had pasty white skin that didnt quite look like it was his natural skin color. In fact David noticed that on Leos bald head there were some greenish brown patches where Leos white complexion didnt seem to be nearly as consistent as it was on his face. Leo also had large oval cheeks that protruded from his face.
After entering Leos cubicle David couldnt quite shake the notion that something was very wrong. Something about Leo struck him as being very awkward; it was almost like he was hiding something. His skin complexion and color didnt seem natural, almost as if Leo had used makeup. Something about Leo seemed very foreign to David. David thought and pondered what this could all mean. Then David was struck with an idea. Leo must be a terrorist! David thought to himself, He was probably a part of a cell, one of those; oh what do you call them? Sleepers, thats it sleepers, thats what theyre called! Was Leo actually a terrorist who had infiltrated his country in order to wait for an opportunity to attack?
No, that couldnt be the answer. There was probably a logical explanation for all the abnormalities that David saw. Like that large oval hump on his back, its probably the result from some genetic disease, like cystic fibrosis or scoliosis. The fingers were also probably the result of some sort of birth defect. Davids heart suddenly skipped a beat. Could Leo actually be one of those disabled people who get all of the good parking spaces? If so, David had to be very careful. Any misstep he made could be interpreted as discrimination. If he wasnt careful he might have those politically correct people who keep whining about equality breathing down his neck. There would be lawsuits and he might even be forced to attend a training camp or seminar. Worse yet, he might even lose his job!
Davids confident strike slowed down to a cautious crawl. He approached Leo as one would an armed nuclear weapon. David spoke slowly, taking extra care to closely monitor what he was saying, Hello Leo, nice to meet you. Words been spreading around about how youre supposed to be the new ace accountant. Here are a few more numbers for you to crunch. A loud thud sounded as David dropped the papers he had been holding on Leos desk. Mike followed suit.
David said, With all that hard work youre going to be noticed. This should be a piece of cake for you. Just make sure you have all the figures on my desk by Monday. Oh, and have a good weekend.
David walked out of the cubicle and thought to himself how that had been much easier then he thought it would be. Now he was nice and free to enjoy the upcoming weekend. Those papers werent his problem anymore.
Leo gave a soft inaudible sigh as he sifted through the massive pile that littered his once clean desk. He had learned to put up with this crap before. He was used to dealing with extra work especially when he got a new job. He didnt mind getting the work done but he knew it would take him an extra hour or two, which meant that once again hed be late for the Friday night dinner with his family. Leo sighed once more. What had happened to his life? It used to be a lot more exciting. In fact his teen years were packed with so much excitement that everything hed done since left him with a bitter aftertaste. It was as if for those few glorious years he had drunk nothing else but highly concentrated sugary fruit punch, but now all he could drink was watery apple juice. One thing he knew for sure was that his wife and three children needed to be fed, and they also needed a roof over their heads. He never quite understood why they couldnt just live underground like he had during his childhood, but his wife wouldnt have it. She refused to live underground despite the benefits of cheap housing and easy transportation around the city. His kids also had a hard time in school because all the other kids made fun of them because of the smell.
Leo decided that hed need to call his wife to let her know that hed be home late once again. He hesitantly picked up his phones receiver; His fingers were too big to dial individual numbers so he usually used a pencil to dial his home phone number. Leo waited patiently as he waited for the familiar voice of his wife to pick up. The call connected and Leo heard yelling and screaming in the background, Hello! Hello! Who is this? Because if its another telemarketing call I swear Im going to hang up.
April, its me Leo. Im sorry to bug you it sounds like youre busy, but I think Im going to be home late.
What! Again? Youve got to be kidding me. Thats the third time this week. I need you here to help me with the kids! You should know that Friday is our special family meal time.
I know, I know, listen April. Theres nothing I can do about it. One of my superiors sprung some work on me at the last minute. Its going to take me another hour or two to wrap it up. I promise Ill get someone to help you with the kids once I get my first paycheck.
Alright then, at least bring something home with you for dinner, cause god knows Im not cooking tonight. Get some take-out. Maybe bring back some Chinese food?
How about I pick up a pizza? Does that sound good? Ill get a pie with some sodas. Leo smiled a little bit. Despite all the years that had passed, he still loved pizza.
Thats fine, just bring back something. The kids will probably be so starving by then theyll probably eat anything without a fuss. Leo then heard a large crash in the background followed by loud, piercing screaming, I told you not to climb on the kitchen cabinet! Look what you did to your brother! Alright Leo Ill see you soon. Also, before I forget, I should tell you that someone was calling for you earlier today. They left a message; apparently your father has passed away.
Smoke billowed into the cold crisp night air as David opened the door that led into the bar. Hed had plenty to drink at the game but Mike had insisted that they had to come to this bar. David, being the least inebriated of the pair, had been forced into the position of becoming the designated driver and shepherding Mike around until he could convince him to go home.
Mike wobbled forward as he tried to stammer something out, This place here is fucking great, its really really really reallllllllyeeeee goooood. David looked around and he didnt see anything particularly special. It was like any other low-end bar; there was a twenty-seven inch television that was hung up in the far left corner that overlooked the pool table in center and long line of bar stools that congregated in a straight line right next to the bar table. It seemed like it was probably a slow night considering that the bar was scarcely populated. The few people who were there seemed to fit into the forty-something working class crowd who probably came here every night in order to escape from their nagging wives. There was one person who did stand out amongst the crowd. He was seated atop a bar stool, wearing a brown trench coat and a hat of matching color that reminded David of one of those old black and white noir detective movies. David couldnt take his eyes off of the guy seated atop of the bar stool. He couldnt quite put his finger on it, but something about him struck David as being very familiar. Then it hit him, who ever this guy was had a very peculiar back, it almost seemed as if a large oval object was protruding from it. The trench coat seemed to stretch around the large oval mass and form a smooth surface with hundreds of different hexagon shaped grooves. He seemed to also have three large oversized fingers which he was currently using to cradle a beer mug. He kinda reminded David of that guy from accounting, what was his name again?
There was no one seated next to the trench coat guy and since he was at the far end of the bar table is was clear that he wanted to be alone. Everyone else in the bar seemed to pick up on this subtle message except Mike. Mike staggered forward in the general direction of the trench-coated guy. Mike then raised his arm and proceeded to place it over his shoulder. David could see that the trench-coated guy was annoyed; hell anyone could see that, anyone except Mike. Mike then pressed his face close, very close, way past what most would consider to be within their comfort zone. He opened his mouth and the poor trench coat guy was hit with the hot repugnant stench of stagnating watered down stadium beer and pretzels. Hey, arent you that guy, you know, that guy from that thing? The man in the trench coat uttered a low growl and then spoke back in low tone that seethed with malice, Get away from me.
Hugh, whachaya say?
I said, get away from me!
Speak up guy, I still cant hear ya.
I said get the fuck off of ME!!!
The trench coated man rose up in rage from his seat and in one swift motion grabbed a three pronged-weapon that David didnt recognize. The weapon looked familiar to David, like it was from some sort of martial arts movie. The trench coated man rose up his glistening weapon and then slammed it down on right through Mikes hand, impaling it on the bar stool. It took a few seconds for Mike to register what had just happened, but once his head had caught up with his body he let out a howl.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY HAND!
The bartender sprung into action with calm cool efficiently, as if this wasnt the first time hed had to deal with such a problem. I gave a quick authoritative shout to the guy who was closest to the phone, Call 911 now! Tell them we have another stab wound victim and they need to send down an ambulance down here as quickly as possible. With a grim expression of sadness and frustration the bartender turned towards the trench coated man.
Listen, Raphael, get out of here, now! I cant put up with this bullshit anymore. Thats the second time this month that youve used those damn things. Youre a good bouncer but youve become a liability that I just cant afford anymore. Get out of here now before the cops come and start asking questions, and dont come back, ever! Your banned from here on out. If I see your face here again, Ill tell the cops exactly where they can find you.
Raphael picked up his bottle of scotch and quietly sulked his way to the door. Despite his attempt at subtlety everyone in the bar was staring at him. Thats what they always did, they just liked to stare. Raphael had grown sick and tired of the staring, hed always yearned to have someone to talk too, someone, anyone who would sit down and listen to the things he had to say, but no one ever did. All he had to do was take his hat off and theyd always run away. Theyd either run away or try to sell him off to some laboratory. Maybe thats why hed felt so angry all these years. None of his brothers ever seemed to have a problem with being different, they never seemed to understand that theyd never be accepted, they could never walk the streets in broad daylight. Maybe his other brothers never seemed to have a problem with being so different was because they had each other. After Master Splinter had told them that he had taught them everything he knew there wasnt much reason for them to say together. That didnt matter anymore though, Raphael knew he was alone. He wasnt quite sure how many years had past since they had each gone their separate ways, but he didnt care.
All he did care about was finding a reliable source of alcohol so he could drown away his sorrows. Raphael stumbled down the dark alleyway. He was angry, but there was no one to take it out on. When he was younger there were always outlets for his aggression - whether it was robotic ninjas or bizarre creatures from other dimensions, there way always something to hit. Now the best he could do was throw his scotch bottle at the tall, lonely, indifferent brick wall. There was nothing more he could do tonight; hed just have to find another bar or liquor store tomorrow.
Raphael reached the door that led to his cheap apartment above the Hunan House. It was the only place he could afford. In his half drunken daze he fumbled with the keys as he tried to open the door. Upon entering his apartment, Raphael was greeted with the familiar sight of nothing. Hed never had enough money to even consider doing some more elaborate decoration. All he had was a single mattress and a coat hanger for his trench coat, hat, and red bandana. As Raphael hung up his coat he heard his answering machine click, this was odd seeing as no one ever bothered to call him, he wasnt even sure if anyone even knew his number. He heard a low deep voice droll out its message from his machine. It said, I regret to inform you that your father whom you, and your brothers have placed in our care has recently passed away.
David was speeding. He was going down the Jersey turnpike at speeds that were easily exceeding 80 MPH, but he didnt care, he didnt even bother to look at the odometer. Hed just taken Mike to the emergency room. He couldnt just go home and go to sleep, he needed something to soothe his shattered nerves and calm himself down and he knew exactly where to get it. It meant that he had to leave the city, though. One of his old high school friends Ben George had never really done anything after graduating. He became a small time pot dealer living in his mothers basement which he used as both a place of residence and a base of operations for his business.
David saw the exit highlighted in green neon and he got off. David had gotten off the cold lonely highway and reentered the all too familiar suburbs of his youth. While this neighborhood wasnt exactly where hed grown up, it was pretty close. Then again hed be hard-pressed to tell one suburb apart from another. He wasnt too far from his destination now; just a few more blocks and hed be there. David passed a few more scattered picket fences covering the front yards that were occasionally adorned with a stray bike or plastic swimming pool. He finally reached his destination; it was a large three-story white house with red shutters. David wasnt quite sure what time it was but he knew it was late, probably past 12AM, Ben kept the side door open just for occasions like this. The side door creaked open; it led to a set of wooden stairs that went to both the basement and the first floor kitchen. Upon reaching the bottom David felt his senses begin to numb as he was surrounded by a heavy layer of intoxicating smoke. The room was covered with various pin-ups and posters from High Times; there were also a few Grateful Dead posters. Ben George was seated on a large bean bag chair surrounded by two other guys who David had never seen before. The guy on Bens right wore a tie-dyed poncho made of hemp; he was laid back in a hammock, eating a slice of pizza. David was looking forward to sitting down relaxing with a joint until he saw the person seated to Bens right.
David had only been immersed in the smoke for a few seconds, it couldnt have affected his senses that much, but what other explanation was there for the thing that was sitting so casually in front of him. He couldnt really describe it; it was like a large green frog man. It had large overgrown fingers which reminded him of Leo and that trench coated guy from the bar. It also had dark green skin and was wearing an orange bandana around its head with two slits punctured in for eye holes. It seemed to have on some kind of armor around its chest that extended all the way to the back forming a large oval shell. Maybe it wasnt a frog; it was more like a turtle. It was a giant walking turtle. David stared at the giant bipedal turtle man in disbelief for several seconds then Ben noticed he was there.
Hey Davy, long time no see, how you doing man?
Ah, Ben, whats that thing over there?
The guy in the hemp poncho stirred in his hammock and leaned over to face David.
You can see him too? Hey, Ben, I guess you were right, he is real.
The weird turtle creature began to speak, How many times have we gone over this? Im real all right; now pass over a slice of that pizza.
I dont know man; Ive seen some pretty trippy stuff before, for all I know you could be working with that penguin guy that I saw last week.
Yeah, but thats the difference, you saw the penguin last week and now hes gone. Im still here. I was here last week and the week before and by now you should get the idea.
Youre far out you know that, youre really far out. Hey you, new dude who just walked in you got take a hit of this shit and listen to one of like this guys stories. There like incredible. Hey Mikey tell him that one about, like, the brain from the other dimension who, like, sent robot ninjas after you.
His full name was Michelangelo but everyone who came by just called him Mikey. No matter how much he tried he could never convince anyone that he was real. They all believed him to be some sort of hallucination spawned by a bizarre combination of strong pot and watching Yellow Submarine and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a few too many times. The only one who believed he was real was Ben, but, then, again hed been living with Ben in this basement for so many years, how could Ben not realize that he was real. Mikey had tried smoking the stuff that Ben sold, but it didnt seem to affect him at all. It probably didnt affect him because of his unique biology. The reason why he stayed there was because it was the only place where he was accepted. Most of the people who came down to hang out with Ben or buy pot from him didnt really believe he existed. They all thought of him as a drug induced illusion. As sad as it might seem to live amongst a group of people who couldnt quite decide if you existed or not, he knew it was the only place he could go. It was the only place where he could be himself and not have to travel incognito. Hed heard about Leonardo trying to use makeup to fit in with the other humans and live out a natural life, but all he was doing was denying his heritage, denying his true identity. He was just a poser.
Michelangelo didnt mind living amongst stoners but he missed his brothers; in some ways he missed his father. Hed always been a slacker, the joker of the group, but he just did that so he could be disciplined. In truth he liked the strict training, he liked discipline, but he didnt know how to lead disciplined life. After he and his brothers had left their father he lost his sense of control and order. His once finely chiseled muscles have become flabby and his lighting quick reflexes had dulled. At the very least, hed gotten a steady diet of pizza and all the mountain dew he could drink, but then again that might be the reason why his lighting fast reflexes had dulled and how his once toned arms became flabby.
Ben looked over to Michelangelo and said, Hey did you see the piece of mail that came for you?
No I didnt, you know I cant go up there, especially not during the daytime.
Yeah I know, I know you dont like the daylight, Ive heard your reasons a thousand times before, but I dont know this really weird letter came for you. It came from Pet Land Discounts. Dont know why theyd mail you but something tells me you might want to read it.
Fine whatever; just throw the damn thing over here.
Michelangelo picked up the letter apprehensively and opened it. The top left had the cute little Pet Land Discounts logo with a nice smiling gold fish but the actual body of the letter was not quite as cheery.
I regret to inform you that your rat Mr. M Splinter, whom you have boarded with us for the past ten years, has passed away. You have ten days to pay the boarding fee and collect the corpse or else well be forced toss it in the dumpster out back.
Sincerely, Joel Tabor
Manager of Pet Land Discounts
Donetello had just finished his shift at Electronics Boutique and he was glad it was over. Donetello liked technology; he liked fiddling with high tech gadgets and inventing new contraptions. He could never get a foothold in the industry though. The best he could do was to get an entry level sales position at a video game retailer. He didnt mind it at first, but it started to grate on his nerves as time passed by. He was getting tired of constantly being harassed by little kids asking about the release date of the PlayStation 3. He was tired of being haggled by mothers, because he refused to sell violent games to their nagging ten-year old children. He was tired of that one guy who kept on trying to get a refund for the entire game collection he ruined by putting it in his washing machine. Most of all, he was tired of having to pose as an Ork from Lord of the Rings just so he could go to work without extensive facial makeup.
Normally he was happy to get off work, but this time was different. Hed just received the news about Master Splinters death. He needed to get to Pet Land Discounts as soon as possible if he was to ensure that Splinter would receive a proper burial. Itd been a long time since he and his brothers had decided to board Splinter and go their separate ways. Maybe hed send them an e-mail to notify them about the funeral. The cost of boarding splinter for so many years would definitely drain what little money hed managed to save. He probably wouldnt be able to afford a proper burial. Maybe if he was lucky he could get Splinter to be buried in a pet cemetery.
Donetello reached Pet Land Discounts minutes before it closed. It had become a ragged pet shop filled with various mangy, disgruntled animals that looked rabid. It was run by a plump little short balding man named Joel Tabor. He was never particularly pleasant, and upon seeing Donetello enter his store he looked even grumpier. Then again, most people wouldnt be very happy if they had a scrappy looking oversized rat dumped on them for several years without notice.
Joel spoke in a dull flat voice, he said, Its in the back. He motioned Donetello to follow him past the aisles of bird seed and kitty litter, past the gold fish and the ferrets to the backroom where few had ever ventured. Here is where most of the animals were boarded. A few birds and some dogs in crates barked in protest of Donatellos entry. Joel pointed to a large glass cage filled with cedar chips.
He said, Here it is, if you want it back Im going to need at least eight hundred dollars. That should cover the first set of expenses, but Im going to need several payments if youre going to work out the total cost of boarding.
Donetello replied, Theres no way I can pay that! Not with my current salary. All I can give you is two hundred for now. Ill get the rest later but thats all I can give you right now.
You listen to me, okay! Youre the one who gave me this miserable animal without any notice of when you would pick it up. I kept it alive, I paid for its food with money of my own pocket, Im more entitled to do whatever the hell I feel like with it then you are, so either get rest of the cash or it goes in the back with all the other dead mice and goldfish.
Donetello was about to sulk out of the store in defeat when a familiar voice chimed in, Ill pay for it. Donetello looked behind him and saw Leonardo. He was in shock to see his brother, after so many years, although at first Donetello had difficulty recognizing him because of his makeup.
Leo, are you serious? How can pay for all that?
Leonardo replied bitterly, Ill have to take it out of my savings and my family wont be able to go on a vacation for the next two years, but yeah, I can pay for it. Its the least I can do for Splinter.
Then a loud voice boomed behind them, Master Splinter deserved a lot better then just being thrown in a cage with wood chips and being fed gerbil pellets. Donetello and Leonardo both turned around and they were faced with a familiar crimson red bandanna; it was Raphael.
Leonardo retorted, Well I dont remember you eagerly volunteering to take care of him. I had a family to feed; there was no way I could afford to take care of an elderly rat.
Raphael replied, Dont you remember the ninja code which we swore by?
What exactly have you done to uphold that code? Last I heard you were found drunk in some dumpster.
Leonardo was starting to test Raphaels patience. How could he have the nerve to attack him so viciously when he came to pay his respects to Splinter? He put one of his hands in his trench-coat pocket and gripped his weapon tightly. If Leo wanted a fight he was more then ready to give him one.
Then from behind came a loud shout, Stop it Stop it!! You two fighting would have been the last thing he would have wanted. All three turtles turned around to see Michelangelo. The last of the estranged brothers had returned.
Theres nothing we can do about whats already happened, the best thing we can do now is work together to ensure that Master Splinter gets a halfway decent burial. Theres no way we can respect his memory if we just keep on fighting and bickering about the past.
All of the turtles fell silent. They had all taken different paths, but had they really been so divided? They had all been reunited for the same reason. So as the sun set on the small strip mall that housed Pet Land Discounts four, figures walked off into the distance. Maybe they were fading away as the sunset on their past, or maybe they were walking forward to meet the future and the adventures yet to come.