Fic: Pizza
Title: Pizza
Author: Talayse
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor
Pairings: Gen
Summary: Pizza dog meets some fellow pizza lovers.
Okay, this looks bad . . .
Lucky took off running down an alley. Clint was really going to have to get a leash or something one of these days, well, maybe. Normally Lucky walked easily by his (or Kate's) side and never showed any inclination to chase cars or people or even pigeons, unless told to. There were only two things that caused Lucy to rebel: a tracksuit mafia goon, or pizza.
Clint really hoped this was about pizza.
He'd left his bow at his apartment.
So of course there'd be trouble .
He wasn't completely unarmed though . . .
. . . and Lucky was his dog.
Clint took off down the alley after Lucky, just managing to catch sight of the flag of his tail as Lucky--- apparently--- dove down an open manhole cover.
Aw, Lucky.
Clint stood, looking down into the dark, dank depths of a New York City sewer. He'd been in the sewers before, more often than he cared to reflect on, but Avenging took you everywhere, the Savageland, the moon, Asgard, Wakanda and a lot of places you didn't ever want to contemplate going to again. The New York City sewers were on the top of that list, in his opinion.
Oddly, there was the cheesy-tomatoey-oreganoy smell of pizza wafting up from the sewer. It was not the sort of smell Clint associated with the sewer at all.
Before he even realized he'd made a decision, Clint had swung around and was climbing down the rusting rebar ladder into the sewer, Pizza Dog needed rescuing, whether said dog knew it or not.
The sewer was dimly lit with work lights and a thin film of what Clint was going to think of as mud clearly showed Lucky's paw prints. There was also a print of some other unknown animal/monster. Perhaps a large, wading bird.
Yeah, bird sounded good. He could handle a bird.
Following Lucky's tracks down several tunnels, Clint hoped he'd have their combined tracks to help him find his way back, the idea of the prints getting washed away was not something he wanted to entertain, it included himself and Lucky being washed down these tunnels as well.
The smell of pizza grew stronger again, and suddenly he heard voices, echoing oddly off the damp walls. He slowed and concentrated on listening, the echoes wrecking havoc on his hearing aids. They sounded like teenagers, rambunctious and overly excited. Was that what young people did these days, hang out in sewers? He'd have to ask Kate later.
One voice said, "Dudes! He likes pizza."
Another voice called out, "That is my kind of dog!"
A third voice suggested, "Give him some of the sausage."
"Hey," drawled a fourth voice, "Where did this pizza loving dog come from?"
The second voice answered, "He followed me down when I picked up the delivery."
"Woah!" called the first voice. "He's going to town on that sausage slice. Gimme a pepperoni."
"Don't feed the dog all our pizza," said the forth voice.
"Pepperoni is for yours truly," said the first voice.
As he listened, headache brewing, Clint was edging closer to the voices. He sidled his eyes around a corner and just had to take a moment to adjust the sight before him to fit in with his version of reality.
Yeah, he'd seen a lot of weird shit with the Avengers, and even before the Avengers (he was in the circus after all), but this took the cake. And the candles. And maybe the party hats too.
There were four, vaguely humanoid turtles eating pizza, and feeding bits to Lucky, who was in pizza heaven. They wore coloured masks and had various martial arts weapons thrust through their belts. Clint had a pocket knife and some change.
Well, this was either going to end badly or end weirdly, but Lucky was his damn dog (shut up Kate, dog stealer) and no one was going to seduce Lucky away with pizza (again).
"Hey Lucky," Clint said, coming into view.
Lucky perked up, pizza sauce on his nose. The turtle people disappeared. Lucky licked his nose, grabbed a slice of pizza and laid it at Clint's feet.
"Aw, thanks buddy, why don't you have that one?" Clint said, patting Lucky on the head, and then taking hold of his collar. "You can come down now."
There was a stage whispered conversation above him of which he only caught a few useless words (too many low voices at once for him to make any sense of it), then one of the turtle people appeared upside down, hanging from his knees. From the ceiling of the tunnel Clint made out an exasperated, "Mikey, no!"
"Is that your dog?" asked the turtle person, he was wearing an orange mask around his eyes. "He's awesome."
"Sometimes," Clint said, still holding firm to Lucky's collar. Lucky was trying to bend his neck enough to reach the pizza he had dropped at Clint's feet.
The turtle person started swinging back and forth by his knees. "You're not afraid?"
"Of what, you? Let me tell you, I have meet some strange people and things in my time, but you and your buddies don't even take the candles on the cake," Clint said finding he was not actually lying now that he'd had time t think about it.
"We prefer pizza," he said, flipping down to land on his feet.
"So does Lucky," said Clint. Lucky was in fact whining because he couldn't get to the pizza he'd dropped in the sewer muck. Clint tightened his hold on the dog's collar. Sewer muck pizza was probably not good for him.
"Dudes, come on down, he's not gonna tell," the turtle person called up.
Another one landed next to him, "When did you become such a stellar judge of character?"
"Dog likes pizza," reasoned the orange masked one.
Turtle number three landed, "Mikey, everyone likes pizza."
"Master Splinter doesn't,"* said the fourth, who also landed.
"Master Splinter doesn't like when I make pizza," said Mikey.
The blue masked one threw his arm around Mikey's shoulders, "I'm not sure what you make can be called pizza."
"What are you guys?" Clint blurted out.
The four of them shared a look and started telling him a story about baby turtles, a Japanese rat and some green ooze and ninja training. Frankly, Clint had heard stranger origin stories. Somehow, he found himself following them back to their lair, meeting their rat master and watching them dance to a record player that he could actually operate. Lucky thought it was all great fun, barking and jumping with the turtle people. Eventually Clint joined them.
Okay, Clint thought, this looks probably looks bad. But no one can see me with these guys and pick me out as the worst dancer.
And that was how pizza dog meet the pizza turtles.
*In the original cartoon, Splinter hates pizza, and they actually realize he's been body swapped with the Shredder in one episode when the Shredder eats pizza enthusiastically. In the 1990 movie, it seems Splinter eats delivery pizza, if it doesn't land on his head.
Author: Talayse
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor
Pairings: Gen
Summary: Pizza dog meets some fellow pizza lovers.
Okay, this looks bad . . .
Lucky took off running down an alley. Clint was really going to have to get a leash or something one of these days, well, maybe. Normally Lucky walked easily by his (or Kate's) side and never showed any inclination to chase cars or people or even pigeons, unless told to. There were only two things that caused Lucy to rebel: a tracksuit mafia goon, or pizza.
Clint really hoped this was about pizza.
He'd left his bow at his apartment.
So of course there'd be trouble .
He wasn't completely unarmed though . . .
. . . and Lucky was his dog.
Clint took off down the alley after Lucky, just managing to catch sight of the flag of his tail as Lucky--- apparently--- dove down an open manhole cover.
Aw, Lucky.
Clint stood, looking down into the dark, dank depths of a New York City sewer. He'd been in the sewers before, more often than he cared to reflect on, but Avenging took you everywhere, the Savageland, the moon, Asgard, Wakanda and a lot of places you didn't ever want to contemplate going to again. The New York City sewers were on the top of that list, in his opinion.
Oddly, there was the cheesy-tomatoey-oreganoy smell of pizza wafting up from the sewer. It was not the sort of smell Clint associated with the sewer at all.
Before he even realized he'd made a decision, Clint had swung around and was climbing down the rusting rebar ladder into the sewer, Pizza Dog needed rescuing, whether said dog knew it or not.
The sewer was dimly lit with work lights and a thin film of what Clint was going to think of as mud clearly showed Lucky's paw prints. There was also a print of some other unknown animal/monster. Perhaps a large, wading bird.
Yeah, bird sounded good. He could handle a bird.
Following Lucky's tracks down several tunnels, Clint hoped he'd have their combined tracks to help him find his way back, the idea of the prints getting washed away was not something he wanted to entertain, it included himself and Lucky being washed down these tunnels as well.
The smell of pizza grew stronger again, and suddenly he heard voices, echoing oddly off the damp walls. He slowed and concentrated on listening, the echoes wrecking havoc on his hearing aids. They sounded like teenagers, rambunctious and overly excited. Was that what young people did these days, hang out in sewers? He'd have to ask Kate later.
One voice said, "Dudes! He likes pizza."
Another voice called out, "That is my kind of dog!"
A third voice suggested, "Give him some of the sausage."
"Hey," drawled a fourth voice, "Where did this pizza loving dog come from?"
The second voice answered, "He followed me down when I picked up the delivery."
"Woah!" called the first voice. "He's going to town on that sausage slice. Gimme a pepperoni."
"Don't feed the dog all our pizza," said the forth voice.
"Pepperoni is for yours truly," said the first voice.
As he listened, headache brewing, Clint was edging closer to the voices. He sidled his eyes around a corner and just had to take a moment to adjust the sight before him to fit in with his version of reality.
Yeah, he'd seen a lot of weird shit with the Avengers, and even before the Avengers (he was in the circus after all), but this took the cake. And the candles. And maybe the party hats too.
There were four, vaguely humanoid turtles eating pizza, and feeding bits to Lucky, who was in pizza heaven. They wore coloured masks and had various martial arts weapons thrust through their belts. Clint had a pocket knife and some change.
Well, this was either going to end badly or end weirdly, but Lucky was his damn dog (shut up Kate, dog stealer) and no one was going to seduce Lucky away with pizza (again).
"Hey Lucky," Clint said, coming into view.
Lucky perked up, pizza sauce on his nose. The turtle people disappeared. Lucky licked his nose, grabbed a slice of pizza and laid it at Clint's feet.
"Aw, thanks buddy, why don't you have that one?" Clint said, patting Lucky on the head, and then taking hold of his collar. "You can come down now."
There was a stage whispered conversation above him of which he only caught a few useless words (too many low voices at once for him to make any sense of it), then one of the turtle people appeared upside down, hanging from his knees. From the ceiling of the tunnel Clint made out an exasperated, "Mikey, no!"
"Is that your dog?" asked the turtle person, he was wearing an orange mask around his eyes. "He's awesome."
"Sometimes," Clint said, still holding firm to Lucky's collar. Lucky was trying to bend his neck enough to reach the pizza he had dropped at Clint's feet.
The turtle person started swinging back and forth by his knees. "You're not afraid?"
"Of what, you? Let me tell you, I have meet some strange people and things in my time, but you and your buddies don't even take the candles on the cake," Clint said finding he was not actually lying now that he'd had time t think about it.
"We prefer pizza," he said, flipping down to land on his feet.
"So does Lucky," said Clint. Lucky was in fact whining because he couldn't get to the pizza he'd dropped in the sewer muck. Clint tightened his hold on the dog's collar. Sewer muck pizza was probably not good for him.
"Dudes, come on down, he's not gonna tell," the turtle person called up.
Another one landed next to him, "When did you become such a stellar judge of character?"
"Dog likes pizza," reasoned the orange masked one.
Turtle number three landed, "Mikey, everyone likes pizza."
"Master Splinter doesn't,"* said the fourth, who also landed.
"Master Splinter doesn't like when I make pizza," said Mikey.
The blue masked one threw his arm around Mikey's shoulders, "I'm not sure what you make can be called pizza."
"What are you guys?" Clint blurted out.
The four of them shared a look and started telling him a story about baby turtles, a Japanese rat and some green ooze and ninja training. Frankly, Clint had heard stranger origin stories. Somehow, he found himself following them back to their lair, meeting their rat master and watching them dance to a record player that he could actually operate. Lucky thought it was all great fun, barking and jumping with the turtle people. Eventually Clint joined them.
Okay, Clint thought, this looks probably looks bad. But no one can see me with these guys and pick me out as the worst dancer.
And that was how pizza dog meet the pizza turtles.
*In the original cartoon, Splinter hates pizza, and they actually realize he's been body swapped with the Shredder in one episode when the Shredder eats pizza enthusiastically. In the 1990 movie, it seems Splinter eats delivery pizza, if it doesn't land on his head.