It was roughly 9pm when a manhole cover got pushed back by large, three-fingered hands. Squeezing out of the sewer with a huff, the torn straps of his red bandana flopping to and fro, was Raphael. As the turtle stretched his arms, breathing in the warm, night air, he begins to scope out his surroundings. Luckily, there didn’t appear to be a lot of folks around, since the hole he came out of was in an alley.

For now, he leaned against a wall, not really sure what to do now that he was out. The only thing he did know was that he needed a distraction.