Episode 2 – The One Where Raph & Splinter Melt a Rhinoceros
By Jeffrey Kieviet & Casey Moriarty
“Mr. White? Are you smoking weed? Oh my god… wait a minute, is that, is that my weed? What the hell man, make yourself at home why don’t you.”
– Jesse Pinkman, Breaking Bad
“Anger is self-destructive.” – Master Splinter
“I always thought it was others-destructive.” – Raphael, TMNT
Raph was dragging the body through the sewers when he heard footsteps approaching. Quickly, he shoved the hulking corpse of Rocksteady behind a sewer grate and tried to look inconspicuous. He pulled his Shell Phone out and started playing Angry Birds.
From around corner bounced in April O’Neil, titties jiggling, she was wet with sewer water. “Raph! You’ve been out of the group for 3 months! I had to try to explain to Michelangelo why you weren’t visiting anymore. Donatello has been working on some weird inventions. And Leonardo has been ‘training’ a lot, if you know what I mean. After Pearl Harbor, you just left… and now Splinter tells me you’re selling weed?!?!”
“Uhhh…” Was all Raph could say as he stared at his master’s wife’s chesticles. What the hell was she talking about? Did it matter? Those were some Grade-A Megan Foxesque titties she was sportin’.
“Uh… why, ya lookin’ to buy?” Raph said, thinking of the joint he was carrying in his pocket… Did he have a pocket? Turtles store stuff in their shells, right? Like kangaroos do in their pouches? What were those weird kangaroo things in Tank Girl? Shit, I shouldn’t have gotten baked before trying to move this body…
“Where’d you get this shit?” the terrifying mutant rhinoceros growled as he chomped the pizza Raph had placed into his hand.
“Yo, Rocksteady, I cooked that shit, bitch,” Raph lied.
“That’s some tubular pizza, bro,” Bebop intoned. The warthog grinned as he grabbed at the delicious slice of pepperoni pizza his friend was holding.
“You didn’t cook this shit, that’s bullshit!” Rocksteady snarled, “This shit’s fuckin’ SWEET! Yo, I never had any Italian Sausage quite so savory! This shit tickles my palate like a bouquet of cheeses and fine spices! FUCK, SON!”
At that moment, Bebop drew his laser pistol and pressed it firmly to Raph’s scaly temple.
“Youse is gonna take us to whosever mug cooked this pizza!”
“Youse? I thought you guys were eighties parodies, not thirties gangsters… OW!” Raph started as Bebop whacked him with the butt of his gun. Then they were off to see the wizard… the wonderful wizard of pizza.
Raph, still prodded along by the cruel eighties mutants that held him at laser gunpoint, pounded his four-fingered fist on the door of the hovercraft.
“Hey, uh… Master Splinter,” said Raph, “Can you come outside for a minute?”
A grumbling sound came from inside the hovercraft. Then, with a click and a clack, out stepped a grizzled, elderly dying rat, all clad in tighty whities that reeked of delicious yeasty dough.
“Who the fuck are you?” Rocksteady demanded of the vermin.
“Who the fuck are you?” the ramshackle rat retorted.
“Who the fuck are YOU?” Bebop roared again.
“Who the fuck are YOOOOU?”
“This is the cook,” Raph flatly stated.
Rocksteady grinned, “We got a proposition for you, old man. You cook for us. Or you die.”
Splinter’s mind raced… his ninjitsu training wreaking havoc on his central nervous system…. Ratatouille and ninja training did not mesh well together.
“Look,” said Splinter, “If I… if I teach you how to cook pizza, will you let me and Raph go?”
The two eighties mutants grinned. “Sure…. You can trust us,” said Bebop in the creepiest way possible, “We’re a couple of mondo monsters, my man.”
“I love alliteration,” said Splinter.
“SHUT UP, NERD,” said Rocksteady, “Let’s go.”
“I’ll come help,” said Raph. This, alas, was not to be, as he was swiftly pistol-whipped into unconsciousness by the two brutal gangster-mutants. The unlikely trio of inhuman creatures then stepped into the sewage-soaked hovercraft to begin cooking pizza.
Master Splinter began to mix the ingredients. Yeast, water, oregano and other things you can’t begin to imagine were flying through the air. You think pizza is made out of simple things you find in your everyday kitchen? Haha, think again, dear reader, there is so much more to good pizza. “Ok,” Splinter said. “Now pay attention. This is the most important part.” After he measured out the proper amounts of flour and sugar, he quickly tossed them together, creating a deadly mustard gas. In the surprise/excitement, he ran from the amphibious vessel and slammed the door behind him. With what little strength remained in his ratatouille infested body, he held the door shut as weak grunts and shoves beat against the other side. The deadly mustard gas was killing Bebop & Rocksteady as they feebly tried to exit the vehicle.
The banging stopped. From within, the slumping sounds of bodies hitting the floor reverberated in the sewers. Then Splinter moved away from the door to check on Raph.
Raph was lost in memory as he stared at April’s heaving chest. After the horrific events on the hovercraft, Splinter had gone home, where Raph assumed he had been cornered by April and instead of telling the awful truth, lied that Raph… “…I’m his pot dealer?”
“Shame on you Raphael!” April scolded. “I don’t want you going near my dear, sweet Master Splinter again, do you hear me?”
“Yo, I only sell him pot, it’s not like we’re cooking pizza together or anything.” Raph needed to get rid of April in a hurry so he could get rid of the rotting rhinoceros rump roughly rammed behind the storm drain. Splinter had ordered him to melt to the bodies to get rid of the evidence since the mustard gas had put those two mutant monsters out of their misery. “Ok, fine. It’s not like I was asking your hubby to buy the stuff, he came to me, bitch.”
“Did you just call me a bitch?” April was shocked.
“Sorry, force of habit. Anyway, I promise I won’t deal to Master Splinter anymore. Can I be on my way now? I was about to get a new high score.” With that, he tucked his Shell Phone away and walked around the corner to hide. Once he heard the fading footsteps of April O’Neil fall away down the sewer, he went back and retrieved the body of Rocksteady and finished dragging it back to his humble abode.
Upon returning to the hovercraft to gather the body of Bebop, the purple-mohawked warthog was nowhere to be found. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk around. Which means Bebop was a zombie! No, wait, that just means he was still alive. Oh shit! Bebop was still alive! And wandering around the sewers somewhere. Raph used all his ninja training to track the pig and stumbled on the coughing, near-death figure as he tried to wriggle through a manhole cover, but his porky butt was too fat to fit through. Raph tugged on his porcine paw, sending the piggy splashing into the water, where Raph promptly punched the fucker out. After tea-bagging Bebop a bit with his leathery, turtle scrotum, Raph gained his composure and took the unconscious warthog back to his house where he locked him in the basement.
Raph then set to work.
Later that night…
Splinter knocked on Raph’s sewer door. “Come in, bitch,” was the reply from within.
Hesitantly, Master Splinter entered Raph’s ramshackle apartment. There was dirt and grime, mold and crud everywhere. It was a perfect subterranean lair. “How… how did it go?” Splinter tentatively ventured the question.
“How’d it go? Yo, mother fucker, we got some problems. First, your bitch of a wife almost caught me dragging the dead body of a mutant rhinoceros through the sewer tunnels. And then she gives me this shit about being your pot dealer, which, quick thinking, but I want as much distance from the rest of the gang as possible. You don’t involve them in our business. Two, it went as well as it possibly could have gone. I melted the fucking body, no thanks to you. And three, yeah, the body, as in one, because the other mother fucker ain’t fucking dead. The pig is alive, chained in the basement, and I’m blitzed out of my skull so now he’s your fucking problem. “
“Ok, ok, we’ll deal with the pig later. But you followed my instructions exactly. You melted the body with Coke, right?” Splinter looked around for empty soda cans or two liter bottles.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I melted him with cola.” Raph took another rip from his custom-made bong, the “Cowa-bong-a.”
“Coca-cola… right?” Splinter did not have a good feeling about this.
“Look, yo! The place only had Pepsi. And I’m more of a Pepsi fan myself, anyway. Ya’know Little Caesars? They got $5 Hot-N-Readys & you can throw on a bottle of Pepsi or Sierra Mist for only like a buck.” At the end of his rant, Raph began to cough little smoke rings in the dimly lit chamber.
“You fool!” Splinter shouted. “I told you, it had to be Coke. Coke won’t eat through anything but flesh and bone. Pepsi eats through everything.” And then there was a slow crack along the ceiling.
The sound of metal and stone splintering apart. Bits of dust and gravel fell upon them from above. And with a horrific slurping sound, the half-melted body of a rhinoceros fell into the living room.