All-Stars IV: Dynamic Two vs. Ninja Raptor

[Viola Moonlight]

Deadline is Friday, February 13th at 11:59PM CST. Extensions available upon request.

 

[Kermit]

Still A Better Love Story Than Twilight​

The scene opens to a locker-room. Steam fumes out of a doorway in the corner of the room, indicating its entry into a shower. Several men are walking around in nothing but a towel and a colored Foot Ninja mask. They are all shooting the bull and laughing over a hard day’s work. Enter our hero, a full-clothed Purple Foot Ninja slumps his way into the locker room. Let’s just call him Foot. He walks up to a locker and opens it. His tiredness quickly turns to shock. A pink slip is dangling from the top shelf inside his locker.

Foot: What the hell is this?

The locker room grows quiet as everyone awkwardly looks around. Foot rips the pink slip off the shelf and rubs his head with his other hand.

???t: Yeah….. about that.

A mustached man with thick-rimmed glasses and a comb over walks up to Foot. He is also wearing nothing but a towel.

Foot: Stan? What does this mean?

Stan: Yeah… I thought a pink slip was a pretty universal symbol. You’re fired, Foot.

Foot lets out a gasp of air. He grabs his chest as if he can’t take the news.

Foot: But…but why? I need this job to pay my bills. I have a family.

Stan: Yeah…. well look I don’t want to embarrass you in front of the guys, but today was the fourth time this week you bounced back and exploded from a nunchuck shot. Master Shredder is just looking for less explosive employees. It’s nothing personal.

Foot closes his locker and lands his head against it slowly.

Foot: I can’t believe this. My father was a Foot Ninja, my grandfather was a Foot Ninja. I’m a disgrace.

Stan: Yeah….. I’m sure things will look up Foot. Now, if you could please clean out your locker and get your stuff from collectibles that would be great. Yeah… I already told Alex from accounting he could have your locker, so yeah….

Foot shakes his head in disbelief as Stan walks away. The fun chatter picks back up in the locker room accompanied by the sound of towels snapping bare bottoms and gigggles.

​

Music picks up as we see a series of events unfold. We see Foot cleaning out his locker until he is alone in the empty locker room. We switch and see him going through collectibles. He retrieves several items from the guy working the counter. He gets a picture of a giant axe, a flail, a flame thrower, a picture of all four ninja turtles holding him down and kicking his balls, a mouser that latches onto his hand, and a velociraptor with a leash. We switch to a shot of Foot walking down a street with a cardboard box full of his stuff while dragging the raptor behind him.

We switch to a shot of a pink Foot Ninja, with a blonde wig on, yelling at Foot, presumably about him losing his job. We then see a scene of Foot standing in the doorway of his home, watching the pink Foot Ninja shove a young blue Foot Ninja in a car. They speed away. Foot crawls back into the house and up onto his couch. On the other side of the couch is the raptor chewing off the arm and eating the stuffing within. Foot curls up into a fetal position as the scene fades to black.

[12 Years Later]​

Foot: Change? Can you spare some change, sir?

Foot is on a sidewalk with a dirty ski cap on top of his Foot Ninja mask. In addition, he has a trash bag wrapped around him like a makeshift poncho. Behind him is his tied up raptor with a chain muzzle on. Foot sits down next to his only friend.

Foot: Well, buddy. We’ve only made a dollar and thirty-two cents today. That means we get one doritos taco.

The raptor growls and tries to bite inside the muzzle.

Foot: I know, pal. I know.

Suddenly, a pair of green legs walk by.

Foot: Sir, please! Sir!

Foot stands up and grabs the man’s arm. The person turns around and it is none other than Leonardo.

Foot: Leo?

Leo: Uh, do I know you?

Foot: It’s me, Purple Foot Ninja!

Leo quints his eyes until he acts like he remembers.

Leo: Oh, yeah. From Turtles in Time, right?

Foot: Yeah, thats me!

Leo: Wow, it’s been awhile.

Leo examines him.

Leo: You don’t look so good.

Foot: Well, yeah. 12 years of my life was flash forwarded, and I went from lying on my couch to being homeless, but that’s how life works. Am I right?

Leo: Uh, yeah. Haha… Look, I gotta go. I’m late for a business meeting with Michael Bay, but it was good seeing you.

Leo begins to walk off.

Foot: Wait, before you go! Can you spare some change? Not for me, but my friend.

Foot points behind him as the raptor tries to break his chain and attack them both. Leo hesitates until rubbing his forehead.

Leo: Oh, boy. Look, I’ll do you one better. Take this card. I got an invitation to some fighting event, but I can’t make it. They want someone from the TMNT series. I remember you can take a good beating, can’t you?

Foot: Oh, can I!

Leo: Good, take this and go make a few bucks.

Foot: Thanks, I won’t forget this!

Leo waves it off like it is nothing and leaves the scene. Foot reads the card.

Foot: “WZCW All-Stars!” This is it, raptor. This is our chance!

|--------------------------------------------------------------------------------|​

We transition to an office. We see Foot and the muzzled raptor talking to a secretary.

Secretary: I’m sorry, but we are no longer accepting single applicants. Only tag teams.

Foot: But I don’t have a partner…

Foot looks over at his raptor clawing up a fake plant.

Foot: Or do I….

|--------------------------------------------------------------------------------|​

We transition outside where Foot has his raptor in a dog park. Foot tries to give him several commands like sit or fetch, but he won’t budge. He just continues screeching at him.

Suddenly, a strange man with a cowboy hat walks up.

Strange man with a cowboy hat: You’re doin’ it all wrong, son. You have to grab that there dog by its testicles and let it know who is boss.

Foot: Uh, excuse me? It’s not a dog. Its a rap-

Strange man with a cowboy hat: By the testicles!

The strange man with a cowboy hat grabs Foot’s testicles through his ninja suit.

Strange man with a cowboy hat: Sit!

Foot drops to his knees.

Strange man with a cowboy hat: See?!

The strange man with a cowboy hat lets go and walks away.

Strange man with a cowboy hat: Dang kids thinking they know everything.

Foot climbs back up to his feet as he breathes heavily. He locks eyes with the muzzled raptor.

Foot: Look, we have been together for 12 years. I see it in your eyes. You just want a friend. I am here. I am willing to be your friend. I know you well enough that you are going to help me do this so we can live good lives. You can eat all the meat you want after that. I can see it in your eyes. This is going to work. So, I’m going to take off your muzzle and we are going to go kick some serious ass. Do you trust me?

The raptor blinks slowly. Foot nods as if he has gained the raptor’s respect. He slowly takes the muzzle off. The raptor shakes his head slightly at the new-found freedom. Foot smiles.

Foot: There.

|--------------------------------------------------------------------------------|​

Judge: 25 animal deaths, 14 human deaths, and over a million dollars in public property damage. What do you have to say for yourself, son?

We see Foot and the raptor, muzzled again, sitting in a court room.

Foot: Your honor, I just want to say that it was the raptor who did all of that, and not myself.

Judge: Yes, but you are responsible for your dog.

Foot: Um, he is not a dog, sir.

The strange man with a cowboy hat stands up in the back of the courtroom audience.

Strange man with a cowboy hat: I told ya’ by the testicles, son!

He leaves his seat and mumbles on his way out.

Strange man with a cowboy hat: Dang kids and their tendencies to not grab dog’s testicles.

Judge: Well, my verdict is that you take this Raptor to the WZCW All-Stars event and donate 99% of your earnings to the victims involved.

Defense: Your honor, that seems rather light for the murdered victims.

Judge: Overruled, apparently you didn’t go back and read the locker room scene. Stan was a total dick. Court dismissed!

Foot looks over at the muzzled Raptor.

Foot: Well, we did it buddy. Now it is time to make things right. I’m going to take off your muzzle one more time at All-Stars. But this time we are going to do it for all those people you killed! YEAH!

Foot jumps up with a fist in the air.

​

The credits begin to roll.

Foot: Joseph Gordon Levitt
Raptor: Steve Buscemi
Strange Man With Cowboy Hat: Self
Foot Ninja Wife: Rooney Mara
Stan: Toby from The Office
Foot Ninja Kid: Kristen Stewart
Judge: Samuel L. Jackson
Locker Room Foot Ninja #1: Matt Damon
Locker Room Foot Ninja #2: Matthew Mcconaughey
Locker Room Foot Ninja #3: Chris Rock
Locker Room Foot Ninja #4: Ed Helms

Animals were harmed in the making of this RP.​

[YOUTUBE]8E-MtJBAZvw[/YOUTUBE]​

Kensworth: Liam Kensworth here, Leon Kensworth's distance cousin, to do exclusive interviews with the upcoming WZCW All-Stars competitors. Here I have one-half of team Ninja Raptor who will be facing The Dynamic Two. What do you have to say about your opponents?

A curdling gargle rings from the throat of the raptor as the camera zooms back to show that Kensworth is interviewing Raptor.

Raptor: *blood-curdling screech*

Kensworth: There you have it folks. Ninja Raptor is ready for the Dynamic Two!

Another screech pierces Kensworth's ears as he screams in fear. The raptor lunges at the man operating the camera, which prompts the camera to fall sideways on the ground. We see blood splatter into the camera view as Kensworth tries to crawl away. Suddenly, we see the clawed feet of the raptor walk in front of the camera as Kensworth screams. The feed cuts out.

 

[Dirk]

Dark Stain Entertainment presents...
The Adventures of Major Dynamo!

???:
It was a joyous morning in New York City... Street vendors peddled their suspicious goods, yellow taxis were driven by drivers of all nationalities and the people of the middle class rushed off to the back-breaking, bone-crunching monotony of their jobs.

One such a worker is Ruth Leslie – avid gossip and typist extraordinaire. She is late and decided to take a shortcut through one of the Big Apple’s many alleyways.

???:
Hey, doll-face! Hand ovah the handbag!

Ruth spun around her wispy figure, only to see a heavily built hoodlum coming out of his hiding place behind a couple of empty boxes. Both his switchblade and golden tooth glinted menacingly.

Hood:
C’mon, broad, I ain’t got all day!

Nearly paralysed by fear, Ruth backpedalled slowly as the thug moved closer to her. Her pastel pink summer dress eventually brushed against a wall and she knew she was trapped. With nowhere to go, Ruth did what society had told her to do in this situation by letting out a scream.

Ruth:
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!

Mild-mannered, meticulous and middle-aged clerk, Dick Striker heard the yelling from right outside his office. He still had paperwork to file, reports to write and small talk to make over stale coffee, but this isn’t the time for that, he thought.

Dick:
This isn’t the time for that! ...I think...

He carefully pulled back the curtain and saw a big brute of a man threatening a defenceless and shapely woman outside. After checking his trousers for a wet patch, Dick rolled up his sleeves and unclipped his tie.

Dick:
Nobody will accost a woman that defenceless and that shapely! Time for action, Dick!

Dick kicked open his office door and did his best to strike a heroic pose.

Dick:
Unhand that handbag, villain!

The big galoot swivelled around and stifled a giggle.

Hood:
Who are you supposed to be, anyway?

Dick:
If armed robbery is your feast, foe, I am the indigestion that renders you uncomfortable!

Instead of indulging our hero in witty one-liners, the purse thief started charging at Dick.

Dick:
Oh, shit...

Dick Striker promptly turned around and started his valiant retreat. He ran as fast as his flabby legs could manage, but tripped and fell. As he lay there, obviously playing possum to lure the foe in, Dick considered his options carefully and only appears to be whimpering like a little girl.

Hood:
Any last words before I take care of youz?

As his armed assailant draws closer, Dick closed his eyes and kicked at the evildoer in apparent desperation.

Ka-PLONGGGG!

Dick opened his eyes, only to see the lout crumple to the ground. Dick drew back his foot from between the ruffian’s left and right testicles and retrieved Ruth’s purse.

Dick:
Does this belong to you, ma’am?

Ruth:
My hero! Thank you! But what do I call you?

Hastily going through all the taken and trademarked superhero names, Dick settled on his own one.

Dick:
Lady, you may call me Major Dynamo!

The hero formerly known as Dick pouted his lips and inched his face closer to Ruth’s.

Ruth:
Well, look at the time! This gal better get to work!

He watched as the woman’s butt cheeks wiggled away, but his amorous disheartening did not last long, for he knew that he had been reborn. Imbued with the power to communicate telepathically with puppies and the sacred and forbidden art of punching people in the crotch, Major Dynamo would that day set out to grab crime right by its little-

Major Dynamo:
Johnson! Why are you talking like that?

Johnson:
Pardon me, Major. I was just narrating a bit.

Major Dynamo:
Well, stop it. Any mail?

Johnson:
I believe the young Master Lucky went to get it.

Major Dynamo:
Dammit, Johnson, this is what I pay you for! You can’t be a butler if you don’t... uh... buttle.

Johnson:
Of course, sir. Right away, sir. I shall find the mail and Master Lucky.

Johnson starts up his gentlemanly stiff stride and disappears up the stairs of the secret base.

Major Dynamo:
Idiots... the lot of them. I should just join a real superhero group and ditch these two losers. I wonder what... No, nevermind. I’d look terrible in yellow spandex and that Dutch chick isn’t on the team anymore after she killed her husband.

Hmm...

I wonder what’s on the Dynamo Delinquency Device.

Dynamo’s normal laptop didn’t quite cut it as a communications system of superheroic proportions, so he hooked it up to nine mounted monitors and attached a spinning satellite dish that doesn’t actually pick up a signal. At least it looked the part.

Major Dynamo:
Righto, let’s see what we got. Environmental protest in India gone sour... boring... corrupt police conspiracy in Nepal... boring... parliamentary unrest in South Africa... boring, boring, boring...

Oh! This one! I think we have a winner!

Lucky! Where the hell are you? You’re into wrestling, right?

???:
What is the measure of a man? What synthesises a splendid sidekick? What is a hero without his helper?

One day, during a storm in Birmingham, a strapping young lad named Luchanan Lexington IV was playing cricket with a few of his friends. Suddenly, the ball gets hit and sailed straight over the boundary and into the stands.

Luchanan:
Fiddling fantastical shot, school chum! I’ll go get it!

He crept in under one of the seats and his fingertips reached for the ball, trying to dislodge it. In the meantime, a storm picked up. Not being a stranger to a spell of the wet stuff, the brave young man kept calm and carried on. Even though his friends had long since abandoned their game and friend, he tried his darnedest to reach that leather ring.

ZZZZZZZ-CRANGGGGGG!

A bolt of lightning struck the pavilion, with the boy trapped in it. Sparks from all directions hit him.

Luchanan:
Owwwwieeeeee!

It was over in a flash (literally), but it did not leave a burned husk of a person behind, no. Instead, the electricity supercharged his cells somehow and also made his hair stand on end with Warbladian spikiness.

Luchanan:
Golly great gosh, I sure am lucky to be alive! I think I’ll go find me a superhero to assist and annoy. Such is the mission of Birmingham’s bravest boy wonder... Lucky!

Major Dynamo:
Johnson, dammit, I thought I told you to cut it out!

Johnson:
Sorry, sir. Old habits...

Lucky:
Fantastic fickle flamboyant fan-mail, Dynamo! Look what came in the mail today!

Lucky sailed down the armrest of the winding stairs.

Major Dynamo:
Is it... fan-mail?

Lucky:
How did you know, sir?

Major Dynamo:
Keenly honed powers of deduction, my plucky partner... but I have something even more exciting than that!

Lucky:
Sweet jumping tuna-fish!...?

Major Dynamo:
No, Lucky... and you stop talking like that too! What year do you think this is, the 1950’s? Anyway, I have a e-mail here from WZCW-

Lucky:
Red-rocketing wrestling relations!

Major Dynamo:
-and it says that we’re needed at their upcoming event, All Stars VI, so it looks like we’re off to... wherever it’s being held this year. Hey, Johnson, pack us some of those cucumber sandwiches you make, a bottle of Irish coffee for me and some apple juice for the kid.

Johnson:
Of course...

Major Dynamo:
Thank you, Johnson. I don’t know where I’d be without you.

Johnson:
It was the year 1987. Edward Johnson enrolled in the Alfred Cranberry Butler’s Academy-

Major Dynamo:
NO! Uh-uh! Look, if you must do a back-story for me and Lucky, that’s fine, but you don’t get to have one! You’re just our butler and all this speaking to yourself is creepy. Now go to the kitchen and if I catch you narrating again, you’ll end up in an igloo with a polar bear and a venison steak tied to your ankles!

Johnson:
Alright, sir.

Johnson sullenly stepped away to create his culinary cuisine in the kitchen.

Lucky:
So about this request, sir? Do you really think it’s the real deal?

Major Dynamo:
Not really... I think you have to use either Irish whiskey or be an actual Irishman for it to count as Irish coffee-

Lucky:
No, sir, I meant WZCW...

Major Dynamo:
I doubt we’ll have a flask big enough for everybody-

Lucky:
No, sir! I meant the mission!

Major Dynamo:
Oh, right, yes. Remember that time when I sent you to “gather intel” on the women of WZCW?

Lucky:
Yes, sir. I still have the locker room footage stored away in archives.

Major:
Well, that was mostly just for my own viewing pleasure, but this e-mail actually came from the company and they need us to fight in a match.

Lucky:
Against who, sir?

Major Dynamo:
“Whom”

Lucky:
Who?

Major Dynamo:
Nevermind. We’ve been asked to stop Ninja Raptor.

Lucky:
Mega Mesozoic maniacal multiple-man match, Major!

Major Dynamo:
Come on, Lucky, that’s super annoying. I know your cells are a bit unstable, but still.

Lucky:
Sorry, sir. I’m just frightened at the idea at battling a dinosaur who’s also a ninja. How do you hide something that big?

Major Dynamo:
Well, Houdini managed to hide an elephant once, but no, it’s not a ninja raptor. It’s a tag-team, like us, with a ninja AND a raptor.

Lucky:
Is that supposed to make it better?

Major Dynamo:
I sincerely hope so, because it’s a tag-team match. I’ll need you at my side if we’re going to stop them. Plus we need the money.

Lucky:
Sir?

Major Dynamo:
I mean, I assume there’s going to be some compensation involved. If we win, instead of getting our costumes from Ed Hardy, we can afford suits by Louis Vittone!

Sir:
I think he only makes handbags, sir.

Major Dynamo:
Or Armani, or whatever. Doesn’t matter. We still need to figure a way to get rid of the raptor, since I already have a strategy for dealing with the ninja.

Lucky:
What would that be, sir?

Major Dynamo:
Lucky, what’s the most dangerous and forbidden technique to render any man useless to A) a fight and B) a woman?

Lucky:
Oh, that one, yes.

Major Dynamo:
So let’s hope the ninja isn’t wearing a cup. I don’t think that will work on the raptor, because I don’t think reptiles have genitals like we do.

Lucky:
Maybe not like you, Major D-

Major Dynamo:
No! Lucky, I thought we agreed we wouldn’t use that phrase anymore? Because of what it sounds like?

Lucky:
Yes, sir. I remember now.

Major Dynamo:
Penis...

Lucky:
Yes, sir.

Major Dynamo:
Because “Major D” sounds like penis...

Lucky:
Got that, sir.

Major Dynamo:
Right, but let’s not dwell on that. To the Dynamobile!

Na na na na na na na na Dynaaaaaa...