RACHEL'S SHORT STORIES OF OTHER STRANGENESS

Hey again, gam mak hopeful. As I cannot seem to edit my prior short story thread's title to something else, will be posting short story pieces here for any interested. My current writing project is inspired heavily by Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles of all things; as such, the tale I'm working on right now is based off an adventure from Palladium's one TMNT RPG from back when.

A bit of a content warning for readers of this starting story, however -- as the name will suggest, the adventure this story-to-be is based off involves school children being held hostage by gun-totting terrorists. Reading the Game Master Background and villain bios for the adventure was something of a gut-punch when I first read them; the writer pulled no punches with the themes, not unlike the grit of the Mirage Comics rendition of the Turtles that TMNT and Other Strangeness is based off.

In addition to the content warning, I'm also going to give a shout-out to a guy named Minifig on /tg/, who created his own PDF for running the TMNT RPG using Savage Worlds. References to his original setting info in the game's playtest can be found strewn across this tale, and his PDF can be found here -- https://i.4pcdn.org/tg/1412638822290.pdf

Without further ado, let's dive into a world of beast-rogues and other weirdness...

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Terror on Rural Route 10: Part 1

New Rugby. One of the lesser-known cities in New York State, even in the Western New York region. Not as burned-out as Buffalo’s bad streets but sharing the prestige of the city’s good neighborhoods, New Rugby has its perks for citizen and tourist alike. The allure of its Little Italy, its metropolitan selection of restaurants serving cuisine from the world over, and the Talbot-Lawson Museum and Art Gallery has its draws for the city’s rich art scene.

In one apartment complex in that uncanny metropolis, a young man by the name of Tony was gearing up for an awesome weekend. His latest pals would be arriving soon, eager to enjoy the fantasy meat-grinder that was the college kid’s Advanced Dungeons and Dragons campaign. With a couple of larges pizzas sitting in their boxes, paid for by Tony’s mail-room salary from Rugby Community College, the lad was jamming to Red Hot Chili Peppers playing on the hottest local radio station, KNRU.

Pulling a two-liter of cola from his dingy fridge, a knock at his fire escape window alerted Tony to the arrival of his guests. They always had a habit of evading attention, and Tony agreed it was best that the trio arrive under the cover of the dark alley behind the building. Thus the Pepsi was plopped unceremoniously onto the tabletop next to his Dungeon Master’s screen, and Tony’s stocking feet brought him to the back window.

Once opened on that early spring afternoon, a rather bestial head peeked inside. “Ooh”, grinned the feline guest. “You did pick up some meat lover’s, didn’t you? I can smell it from here! I could kiss ya, Tony”.

A chuckle left Tony’s lips as his mutant companion climbed into his living room. “I’d rather you not”, the college kid grinned, “Last time, I thought you’d take skin off with that tongue of yours”.

Poking his head into the room as the lion-woman entered, the second guest presented his raccoon-like countenance. “You better save some for me and Ginger, lion-tits”, the critter-man crudely commanded. “Aren’t your kind supposed to save the hunt for the boys anyway?”

The third guest, a vulpine woman, slipped herself through the window’s opening after the raccoon scampered on through. “Technically speaking”, the vixen eloquently explained, “Tony was the one attaining this ‘hunt’. Even if you’re correct on a pride’s pecking order, I still feel Nicole deserves the first of our venison”.

With a shrug, Tony plopped himself casually at his folding chair, black shirted chest obscured by the DM’s screen. “It’s whatever to me”, he replied. “This isn’t deer, and I’ve had a big lunch on campus. Just save some good slices for me though?”

“Yeah, yeah”, chuckled Nicole the lioness as she lifted the cardboard lid of the top pizza box. “Eating the same thing time and again gets old after a while. I’m thankful you’ve shelled out for Buonarotti’s. I can taste the difference between that and dank 7-Eleven ‘za”.

“No kidding?” inquired the raccoon-man, hands going akimbo on his denim-covered hips. “Pizza’s pizza to me, Nikki, I’ve never cared”. Turning his head to the vixen, the mutant raised a hand in question. “What do you say, Ginger?”

Ginger the vixen shrugged back, dusting off her summer dress and swishing her fluffy tail behind her. “I’d no gourmand, Prowler. I’d save the assessment to our humble leader”.

By now, Nicole was stuffing her tawny-furred face with the New York Style pizza, double-fisting slices as some red sauce spattered off her dark lips and onto her sports bra beneath her red leather bolero. One hearty gulp later and the lioness shot back, “Oh, believe me”, she grinned with pearly fangs, “This is the good stuff. Much obliged again, Tony”.

Tony chuckled as he dispensed a set of gaming dice from a plastic sandwich bag. “Hey, don’t mention it”, he smiled, “I owe you furries after saving my ass weeks back”.

“And I insist”, Ginger replied, “It’s nothing. At least you’re had the gall to try and find us after our little rescue. But I presume you’re not going to snoop into the bad parts of town from now on?”

“Yeah”, Prowler smirked as he yanked a cheese-and-pep slice from the bottom box, “Next time you need some weed, you come to me, got it?”

Tony groaned. “Dude, it wasn’t like that. I told you before, I was at the wrong place at the wrong time”.

“As you’d put it”, Ginger replied as she opened a folding chair and settled in close to Tony’s spot, “It’s whatever. Inopportune for you to happen upon those delinquents, but luckily for you we’d only just finished our sweep of the slums that night”.

Nicole let out a muffled noise of agreement, swallowing another mouthful of Italian-American comfort food. “As long as we can actually save you hairless apes, I’m happy. Not everyone’s as fortunate to have us or the police to save them in time”.

A sigh left Tony’s lips. “Yeah, I guess so. You three are amazing, no matter what was you slice it. Shelling out for the good stuff is the least I can do. Now c’mon, lemme get out the character sheets and I’ll let you three look ‘em over. I don’t think I explained how to level up your guys yet. Congrats on no one losing a character before hitting second level, though!” His mood lifting a bit, the young man added, “You sure none of you three have played a tabletop game before?”

Ginger smiled softly, plucking her set of loaner dice from her small purse. “When there’s not much to do but gloss over your cheat sheets in the wilderness outside the city”, she responded, “Digesting the rules for a game helps pass the time”.

“Besides”, Prowler shrugged, “Ginger’s good at figuring out that nerd stuff. Gimme my Thief sheet, my dude, and crank that radio. If my watch is right, ol’ Trashman’s routine should be starting soon”.

Obliging the crass critter, Tony turned the dial of his paint-speckled stereo. He always admired obsolete bits of technology from yesteryear, and the local shock-jock of KNRU had a similar taste in music as the nostalgic lad. Hell, Tony couldn’t think of anyone he knew in New Rugby who didn’t dig Trash’s shtick; ratings had been known to quadruple when the audacious host was on the air. And while some of the Trashman’s unsigned acts remained garage band material for a reason, good old Trashy had a habit of spreading the truth of word about town… no matter how bad it hurt.

In mere moments, the boisterous bellow of the Trashman belted from the speakers of the worn boombox. “What is up, Trashionados?! This is the Trashman, the one and only, coming to you from the dumpy little studio in downtown New Rugby. So that was ‘Californication’ – not that my best Chili Peppers jam needs any introduction! More beats coming in from ten years prior to it, hits from the best damned decade of music on this rock, in just a few! But hey, lemme check the headlines and...”

Radio silence. This wasn’t like the Trashman. Not one bit.

“...well damn”, the disc-jockey remarked. “I don’t beat around the bush, ladies and germs. This blows. This really blows. Word from Channel 4 News says some bad stuff’s going down. Some unidentified assholes have taken over a school on Rural Route 10. Guns and everything, as far as we know. The local and state cops are on-scene, and they might even be calling in the feds soon. At least a hundred kids and six teachers are holed up in there with them as we speak”.

Another brief pause. “Damn. I don’t know if any of you out there have kids at that school, but… jeez, and gun-bunnies really think they’re in the right? You never hear something like this happening in our slice of the county, but here we are. Christ sakes, man. I’m sorry. Gimme, gimme a few to get myself together, and I’ll cover the lesser news…”

Tony’s finger wouldn’t give him, the seemingly dauntless Trashman, the opportunity to compose himself on-air. “Guys”, the college kid spoke slowly as he shut the radio off. “Rural Route 10. I used to go to that school”. Hesitantly, the youth of twenty-four finished, “My cousin’s kid goes to that school”.

A soft gasp left Ginger’s lips. Lowering her pizza slices, Nicole grimaced as Prowler lowered his muzzle. “Son of a bitch”, the raccoon spoke at last, his voice lower than his gaze. “So you’re asking us a favor, aren’t you?”

Nicole grit her fangs, setting down the remnants of her servings. “This is no favor. This is a work night for us”.

“Damn”, Prowler scoffed as he crossed his arms. “Did it have to be tonight? I was looking forward to curb-stomping s’more kobolds, or whatever those l’il bastards are called”. A groan, and he looked up. “But you’re right, Nikki. Duty calls”.

“You’re taking this rather well”, Ginger warned. “They might be calling in federal law enforcement. The state police are there, as are local officers. And that’s to say nothing of terrified parents and family members of the hostages”.

“So you’re saying we abandon them?” Nicole growled. “Especially Tony’s kin?”

“I haven’t even spoken for the guns yet”, Ginger relented, “All I’m saying is, we need a plan. Even if we can get there unseen and in a timely fashion, we’ve never faced anything bigger than the rare handgun. New York’s guns laws have kept the streets clean of anyone packing a serious weapon”.

Standing up, Tony went for his hoodie hanging by the door. “I know the way to that school like the back of my hand”, he spoke evenly, dispensing the keys to his used car. “I’ve had to pick up Trixi every now and again. If no one but me knows you guys exist in town, you three would be the only ones who could save those kids and their teachers, witnesses be damned”.

“We’ll devise a plan en route”, Ginger conceded. “Nicole, Prowler, get your weapons from the alley. This night, we make those terrorists’ heads roll”.