Somewhere in New York City . . . .
Sometime in the very early eighties. . . .
Two friends walked across a back alley, discussing where they wanted to take their new company. Well, maybe company was too strong a word; it was more like a name and a vague idea. They would make comic books. Suddenly a very large rat ran across the alley in front of them.
“Hey, Kevin, that gives me an idea. What do you think of a comic about a giant rat?”
“What, and call it Ratzilla? Get real Pete. That’s about the last thing that people are gonna wanna read.”
“Well, I just. . .”
Suddenly a voice interuppted them from a shadowed doorway. “How about a comic with a giant rat and four giant turtles?”
Kevin and Pete turned quickly to face the doorway. In it was a figure wearing a trenchcoat and fedora, so that no details about its face or bearing could be made out.
“And what would we call that?” Kevin sneered, a little upset that he hadn’t noticed the figure earlier. “Four Turtles and a Rat?”
The figure stepped from the shadow and removed its hands from its pockets. They were decidely reptillian, with only two large fingers to oppose the equally large thumb. He then opened his coat to show his shell and the belt around his waist. The belt contained a pair of sai.
“How about ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’?”
Pete fainted.
“Funny, they don’t usually do that until they see Splinter.”
To be continued. . .