"Well, guys!  I'm off to grab some oh, so, can't be beat, number uno, heavenly, din-dins!"

"Remember, Mike."  Leonardo pointed a finger at him.  "There's 24 slices to every large pizza.  No snacking on the way home."

Michaelangelo tightened the coat belt around his waist.  He heard him.  The smile proved it.

"Hey, I sacrifice my life to go after our dinner!  What if I got into an accident and died on an empty stomach?"

"At least you'll know you got a great deal on a two for one price!"  Raphael said with satisfaction.

"That reminds me."  Donatello stood up, pausing half way in his walk.  "Uh, not that I was thinking about you dying Mike."  Michaelangelo rolled his eyes, watching Don move to one of the end tables with their Japanese lamps.  He picked up a small piece of paper from under the stand of the lamp and handed it to him.  "I'm not one for clipping coupons but I couldn't resist this deal.  You get two pizzas for the price of one."  Don stared at him before stepping away.  "Now, don't forget!"

"Cool!"  Michaelangelo took it without hesitation.  "We'll eat like kings tonight!  Later!"

The streets were swarming with life once he reached the surface.  It was already dark out with all the lights of New York glowing around him as if it were still daylight.  Even at night, the city never slept.  And even at night, the shadows remained his best friends.  He gripped the special coupon in his pocket.  Two for one deal.  Who could beat that?  With the money they scarcely got together, it was a blessing to even get one pizza let alone two.

Reaching Tony's Pizza Restaurant and take-out, he paused to breathe in the enticing aroma.  The smoke from the oven pipes bellowed out from atop the roof and drifted into the cool, night sky where it dissipated into nothingness.  The owner was aware of Michaelangelo's frequent visits.  A customer whom appears at the back door of the restaurant.  He was very kind but quite a busy man in this part of town.  Pizza was a big craze among the younger crowds.  At this time of night, groupies, young lovers, and kids who are long past curfew, came to visit to have a slice of one of their all-time favorite foods.

Michaelangelo stood in the alley beside the restaurant, watching the people come in and out with smiles and mixed chatter.  They were so happy.  So, glad to be there.  So, hungry, it ached to watch the workers do their job and wait for their meal to get done!  A portly gentleman the owner was, it appeared he ate a lot of his own creation too much.  The hot kitchen pulled him away from his task toward the back door where at last, Mike could place his dinner order.

"Ah, Mikey, Mikey!  Buon sera!  Come stai?  Bene, yes?"

"Magnifico!"  Mike expressed it on an accent.  "Ha, ha!  Hey, Tony.  I'm awesome as always!  Looks as though you've got a busy night tonight."

"Ah, these kids.  They're driving me nuts here!  Need more help in the kitchen!  Not enough help!"  The man always spoke loudly and with an Italian accent no less.  Michaelangelo didn't care.  He loved it!  All that mattered to him was he got his pizzas, no questions asked.  "So, what can I get you, tonight?"

"Thought you'd never ask!"  Mike grinned.  "I'll have the usual.  2 very bodacious pizzas with the works.  And-"

"No anchovies!"  Mike and Tony said at the same time.  Tony laughed to him.  "I know you too well, amico!  I'll get that for you right away, yes!"

Tony turned away and walked back inside.  Michaelangelo smiled and rested against the wall, thinking how good it was going to taste.  The mouth-watering sauce tingling his tongue, the gobs of cheese sliding down his thick throat, the smell of the pizza rushing toward his nostrils.  Let no man or turtle stand in his way.  When he eats, he's in total paradise!  Mike dug his hands into his pockets, feeling a piece of paper wedge between his fingers.  Lifting it out, he made a small gasp as he stared at it.

"Oh, no!  The coupon!  I forgot to give it to Tony!"

Michaelangelo dared to step closer to the window in fear a worker might catch him.  He pulled away with a groan.  Had he known he could have used the coupon when paying, it would have saved him a lot of grief.  And money!  Michaelangelo now started to sulk.  Donatello even warned him not to forget.  How quickly his mind tends to go astray.

The sound of car tires squealing got his attention.  Michaelangelo stepped out of the alley toward a wide, empty space where he witnessed one of the worst accidents he ever saw.  A young boy, possibly 9 or 10, was riding his skateboard when a large pick-up made a sharp and smashed into the boy, pulling his body beneath the vehicle and dragging him about 20 feet on the asphalt.  It all looked like stop-motion photography.  People stopped but no one seemed to do anything to help.  Michaelangelo ran out, not caring if someone saw him.  He rushed over to the boy's side and looked up at the back of the car which parked for a few seconds.  He stared at the driver.  The driver looked back.  The face on him could stop a clock.  He had a crooked tooth when he gritted his teeth, his cheeks were stubbly with facial hair, and one eye was brown, the other light blue.  Mike was just as startled as the driver when both looked at one another.  The man had seen enough and sped away in a heart-beat, leaving the two in a cloud of billowy
smoke.  Michaelangelo closed his eyes and spoke aloud.

"J14W682."  Suddenly, he heard Don's voice speak inside his head.  "Don't forget!"

Michaelangelo looked down at the semi-conscious boy.  His legs, arms, and half his face were all bloodied and missing layers of skin.

"What happened...."  The boy said to Mike weakly.  "Can't move....."

"Shh, shh.  Just relax, kid.  I'll find someone to get you to a hospital."  Michaelangelo looked around, seeing no one paying attention to all this.  "Hey, hey you!"  He called to a man walking by.  "This boy got hit!  Please, help me!"

"So, take him to a hospital already!  What do I look like, a doctor?"  The man continued on his way.  If he had eyes in the back of his head, he would have seen Michaelangelo give him the finger.  With only three fingers though, it made it harder to tell if he was flipping the birdie, anyway!

"Hey, you!  Help me, please!"  Michaelangelo went after an old woman.  "Please, call 911-"

"Get away, you hoodlum!"  The woman suddenly wielded a umbrella and swung it at him.  Michaelangelo ducked and backed away.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?!"  Michaelangelo shouted out to no one in particular.  "I need help!"

"I want my mom."  The boy whispered.  "Want her now....."

Tears were reaching Mike's eyes as he returned to the boy's side.  "Alright, kid.  Since no one seems to give a damn, I'll take you to the hospital myself.  But you gotta help me on this one, okay?  If you tell me where you live, I can get your parents straight to you.  Is that a deal?"  The boy nodded to him.

"Up there."  He pointed a shaky hand to the building next to them.  "215."

Michaelangelo carefully peeled him off the pavement and held him as gently as he could.  Standing up, he looked left to right before remembering which way to go.  St. Joseph's Children's Hospital was less than 5 blocks away from where they were.  Time could not be wasted to find the parents first.  He had to get him to serious medical attention immediately before the boy fell into cardiac arrest.

"Apartment 215 and J14W682."  Michaelangelo repeated, wishing he had a pen to write down the license plate number.  A hit and run is illegal as well as it being heartless.  The man was obviously drunk and not paying attention to who was crossing in the road.  That number could get the police to track down the vehicle and the owner, putting his butt in jail where he won't do anymore harm to innocent people.  Especially children.

Third block down, Mike grew tired but still held on.  The boy was deathly pale and shallow of breath.

"Want Mom now."

"Just hang on, kid."  Michaelangelo briefly closed his eyes again.  "215.  And J14W682."  He looked around at the streets.  Numbers were everywhere!  Letters spelled every which way.  He let out a groan.  "Damn it!  Don't confuse me!"  He said the license again, louder each time.  People walking on the sidewalk gave him a quizzical stare.

"Get away, you people!  Outta my way!"  He shoved through large groups.  Everyone seemed in their own little world.  Not noticing he had a child with skin missing in his arms.  Typical New York they must have thought.  But now for Mike.  Every life meant a great deal to him.  Big or small, young or old, good and yes, even evil.  Every life had a purpose for living.  This boy had a life and Michaelangelo did what he could to keep that life strong and healthy.

The emergency entrance was well-lit with ambulances parked single file in the drive-up.  Michaelangelo turned side-ways to squeeze through each vehicle to reach the twin automatic sliding doors that lied ahead.  Finally, another person who was just as concerned as Mike was the nurse at the front desk.  Seeing him enter, she called a team out to usher the boy back into the emergency room.

"What happened to him?"  The woman was up and out of her seat so fast, Mike didn't even realize she was sitting when he first came in.

"Hit and run."  Michaelangelo told her flatly.  "He's still breathing.  I got him here as fast as I could.  I got the license-"

"Hang on.  Bill!  Take him down to the emergency room!"  The nurse tapped Mike's shoulder.  "Excuse me for a moment."

The boy was pulled from Mikey's hands into those of the doctors and nurses.  He still moaned about his mother which was a good sign.

"I'll find her."  He whispered.  "I will be back."

Michaelangelo started a fast run back the way he came up to where the accident occurred.  The streets were almost identical, he was afraid he'd be standing at the wrong corner.  Drops of blood were found around the gutter.  This had to be it.  He looked up at the building where the boy pointed.  Where the heck were this kid's parents when this happened anyway?  Home watching TV?  Out at a party?

"215."  He said aloud while ringing the bell downstairs.  J14W6- "Oh, shit!  The number!  What was it?"  A woman's voice picked up.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi!  Look, you don't know me but, your boy was in an accident downstairs!  He needs you!"

He heard her shuffling around, talking to someone else in the room.

"Who is this?  Where is my son?!"  A man's voice bellowed out to him.

Mike gasped.  "Gaah!  Whoa!  Your voice changed, lady!"

"Enough with the jokes, where is our boy?!!"

Michaelangelo pictured this man about 6 feet, jet-black hair and a mean face to go with the mean voice.

"Sorry, man!  He was in an accident and is St. Joseph's right now!"

"Alright, alright.  Will be there as soon as possible."

Michaelangelo backed away and waited in the shadows to see these two lovely people.  Within 10 minutes, a man and a woman scurried down to the street dressed in what looked like thrown out clothes piled together.  The woman looked plain and simple, the man was as Michaelangelo predicted.  A towering beast with hair as black as night.  He had that 'don't mess with me' look to his face.  The two hailed a cab, without even thinking about where their messenger took off to, and headed for the hospital.  Michaelangelo was now relying on the shadows again, following after the car along the streets.

"J14W-"  Michaelangelo was now looking for numbers on the streets.  He was becoming agitated at putting that guy away for at least 5 years in prison.  Pausing by the emergency entrance, he found the cab already leaving.  Damn!   Got there before he did!  Michaelangelo ran inside, continuing to repeat the number.  The woman was hysterical and the nurse was attempting to console her and have her fill out papers at the same time.  The man was pacing everywhere.  Eventually, the parents were able to go see the boy and the family was reunited.  Michaelangelo smiled and approached the desk to the nurse.

"You said it was a hit and run?"  Mike nodded.  "We get so many of those these days because of too many reckless drivers in this city.  Whether it's minor or major, it's wrong just the same."  The nurse passed a pen and notepad to him.  "If you got the license plate number, it would really help the police track them down."

The nurse walked away, leaving Michaelangelo to tap with the pen.  He slowly scribbled, J14....and paused, tapping again.  J14215....no!   That was the apartment number.  J14.....6.... This was getting him nowhere.  He looked through the doors of the emergency room.  The boy looked shallow and near death.  The parents were clutching each other in a tight embrace.  Michaelangelo squinted his eyes, causing a tear to slide down.  He cursed his forgetfulness and dropped the pen.  He had forgotten the number.  Not wanting to leave them empty handed, he found a paper clip and attached the two for one pizza coupon to the notepad.  On the pad he wrote, "For the boy and his family, signed, a friend."

Michaelangelo walked alone on the streets.  A feeling of loss washed over him.  Lost his dinner, lost the will to help a nice family, lost his coupon.  He walked for quite awhile until it got very late.  He was mad at himself for forgetting that stupid license.  If he could kick himself, he would.

Pausing at a gang bar, he stared at the rows of cars in the parking lot.  The place was blaring with music.  Walking along the cars, his heart skipped a beat when he saw a familiar pick-up resting in the lot.

"J14W682!  That's it!"  Michaelangelo beamed.  He felt like running back and grabbing his coupon in exchange for the number.  "No, this is personal."

Gritting his teeth, he stormed into the place.  The place was swarming with people.  Regulars, groupies, tattooed freaks, punks, you name it, it was there.  Michaelangelo sort of fell into the crowd to blend with the unusual type.  That was easy for him.  He was unusual.  He sat down at the bar between two men, listening to the conversations.

"That's right.  Some damn kid came out of nowhere and hit my car.  Probably put a dent in it for all I know."

"Did you stop?"

"Yeah a little bit.  But then, some freaking-looking thing with a green face stared at me.  One ugly mother-fucker I'd say.  Compared to him, I look like a prince."

"More like a frog before the prince, you jerk!"

The men looked around, then to Mike.  The driver glared to him.

"What did you say, loser?"

"You heard me."  Michaelangelo lifted his face to him.  "Your number's up.  And your ass is mine."  Mike suddenly paused.  Ooh, that was good!  I'm starting to sound like Raph!

The driver suddenly jumped up, knocking the bar stool down, and went to shove Michaelangelo.  Mike easily dodged his hands and spun around with a heavy kick, sending the guy to the floor next to his chair.

"Hey, hey!"  The bartender looked to them.  "No rough housing in my bar!  Take it outside!"

The driver didn't listen.  He stood up and threw a punch to Mike.  Another dodge and some ninja moves sent the guy sprawling on the floor again.  Now, the bar was shouting, "Fight!  Fight!  Fight!"  A group of buddies attacked Michaelangelo all out once, pushing out into the parking lot where the war continued.  The drunk driver came out last, cheering his friends on.  Mike got punched and kicked over and over.  Fire raged in his eyes as well as pain.  His beef wasn't with these assholes.

"I said...."  Michaelangelo hurled himself to the driver, pounding his face into the ground as hard as he could.  "....your ass is mine!!!"

The driver rolled away just as the others dog-piled on Mike.

"Hold him down!  I'll run the little shit's ass over!"  The driver got into his vehicle and revved up the engine.  The other guys were laughing like lunatics.  Michaelangelo broke free and started to run.  "You can't hide from me!  Like that boy, your body is pizza pavement."

Oooh, insult the mighty pizza god.  Michaelangelo was pissed.  The truck made no stopping to run him over.  Mike jumped off into a patch of grass and the driver smashed into the brick wall of the next building over.  He smashed through the front window head-first into the solid wall, falling unconscious.  Michaelangelo rolled to the side to watch the scene.  Cops soon arrived after a frantic call from the bartender.  Each man was taken in separate squads.  As for the driver, being badly disfigured, a cop had to drag his still body carefully from out of the broken wind-shield glass.  Whether he was alive or dead, Mike grinned weakly.  Justice was served.

Michaelangelo limped slowly back to a manhole cover near Tony's Pizza.  The restaurant was long closed for the night.  Mike collapsed in front of it.  Justice wasn't quite served.  Not even on a silver platter.  He would even consider a paper plate for his food!

"No!! Say it ain't so!"  He sobbed out loud.

"It's so.  But luckily, I came up to check on you."  Michaelangelo looked up to see Donatello in the alley, holding two pizza boxes.

"Don!  You're a life saver!"  Mike dragged himself over to him, almost ready to kiss his feet.  Instead, he hugged his legs.

"Eeeyuck!  Stop that, Mike!  Dogs could be watching and might get ideas!!"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..."   Michaelangelo clunged to him until Don bent his knee to push him off.

"Yeah, well, you can thank me later!  I had to pay full price!  I got here just before they closed."  He looked to him closely.  "What the heck happened to you?"

Michaelangelo knew that question would be asked sooner or later.

"You know that coupon you gave me for the pizzas?"

"Yeah?"

"I forgot about it."

"You forgot?!"  Donatello's voice perked to a high tone.

"That and just about everything else."  He stood up, brushing the dirt and grime off his knees.

"So, what did happen to you?  A gang fight?  An irate customer at the pizza place?"

Michaelangelo sighed.  "It's a long story and I don't want to get into out here.  Let's go home before these pizzas get cold."

Donatello shrugged.  "Fine.  I'm sure I'll get my answers later."  He looked to him again as Mike started to open the manhole cover.  "I did worry about you, you know.  We all did.  That's why I came out here.   But as long as you're okay, that's all that matters to me."

"Cool.  Very cool."

"So, what did you do with the coupon, anyway?  Do you still have it?"

"Oh, let's just say a nice family will be very pleased for tomorrow night's dinner."

Mike looked back to the apartment building before climbing down the hole.  A smile finally appeared on his face.  A real smile.   Even though he forgot, he did a good deed.  And that's all that mattered to him.

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