The crack in the cracked glass vial in the alleyway was seeping out a strange green ooze. There was nothing natural about it.
Hamato Yoshi slid his finger along the vial and sniffed it. “Hmm.”
“Whachu got there?” Said Shredder.
“I don’t know.” Hamato shrugged. “It’s like slime.”
“I hate turtles and ninjas,” said Shredder. “And my karate master Oroku Saki wants to kill you, by the way.”
“Good to know,” responded Hamato.
The two continued on together, whistling as they walked. As they did, Tom noticed his hand began to pulsate, rhythmically at first, before soon his hand was swelling up to the size of a pillow.
“Whoa,” said Shredder, “Cowabunga dude, your hand is getting gi-normous!”
Hamato was not sharing in Shredder’s enthusiasm. “This isn’t funny, Shredder. What the heck is-” Before he could even finish what he was saying, his forearm enlarged, followed shortly afterward by a rapid growth in the rest of his body.
Moments later, Himato was literally a walking giant.
“Man!” Yelled Shredder. “I hate the artists of the renaissance, maybe that’s why my name is shredder, so I can ruin masterful paintings. Do you think?”
Hamato Yoshi set his hands on his hips and bellowed out a laughter of hilarity. “You know what I’m going to do, shredder?”
“What?” replied Shredder.
Hamato Yoshi, pinched a cheese grader between his thumb and forefinger. He slammed it into Shredder’s face, and it stuck for good. Hamato laughed all the louder. “I’m going to train my rat splinter on how to do karate, and then I’m gonna feed him that green shit, and then he’s gonna train a bunch of turtles, and then they’re all going to kick your ass. HAHAHA!”
Shredder shook his head and cried. “I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life and I’ll do whatever it takes to disrupt those turtles in their mission to do good.”
“Well they’re going to be teenagers, also.”
“So?”
“So suck-it, shredder.”
THE END!
– Thomas M. Watt
Thomas M. Watt 