all-out-tmnt

Revenge was a dish best served cold, on a hot and spicy pizza, and Gary was at long last about to get his. Three years before, his wife at the time, Phyllis, had demanded a better lifestyle than the one-bedroom apartment they could barely afford the rent for with their day jobs. No, not in the suburbs, that was too far. No, not rent-controlled… what kind of people did he think they were? She didn’t care how he got the money, she said quite explicitly, as long as he got it. So he asked around, and got a lead on a job. The gig started at an ungodly hour of night, and his coworkers seemed a little shifty, with various states of shaved heads and brightly-dyed hair and a penchant for dragon tattoos, specifically purple ones, but money was money, right? He was assured that the job was a wellspring of cashola, and that was good enough for him, even if it meant relieving an apartment of any worthwhile contents while the owners were out of town. Phyllis didn’t want to know the details. She