A rusty gate opened, leading directly onto an overgrown path deep in the jungle. This had once been a Pro stadium…not a very fancy one by some other teams’ standards, but perfect for its team and their fans.
The wooden sign with blue paint on the gate still clearly read “51.” Gate 51 used to be the VIP entrance. It was the choice exit for stars who wanted to make an exit after a Pro match without being spotted by paparazzi…or other girlfriends. Gate 51 used to be Spermadactyl’s preferred entrance and exit to the stadium.
On this particular morning, however, the hulking individual exiting through Gate 51 was not doing so voluntarily. He was being pushed out by two other huge individuals, one of them of an even more imposing in size than him.
“Listen to me, brother,” pled Trippertaurus, “You can’t be here! You’re back in the Pros again, and you can’t risk the fallout from this!”
“This is still my family!” the frustrated saurus shouted back, “The balls on those two, coming in here with that nonsense and expecting to walk out alive?”
“We will take care of this, bro,” replied Dozey, “You know we will…but you gotta trust us that you can’t be here right now. In fact, you were never here today.”
The three stood in silence for a minute, save for the agitated breathing of the saurus that wasn’t there. Finally, his breathing slowed, and his posture relaxed. “You skry me if you need anything. ANYTHING.”
“We will, brother,” Trip assured him, as he hugged him farewell. Another embrace from Dozey, and then the saurus was absent for real.
On the other side of the stadium, Gate 13 crashed open. During Pro matches, this was the gate through which vagrants and disciplinary problems had been ejected from the stadium. Now, a surprised and frightened black orc flew through it. Tyrannosaurus Flex walked through the broken gate and cracked his knuckles, staring at the flailing orc. Smashceratops walked out next, carrying the flayed remains of the goblin that had arrived with the blorc; Homer had really done a number on him. Smash threw the carcass at the blorc, followed by the parchment that the goblin had been carrying, bearing the official MML seal, which had been broken right before the goblin read aloud the last few words he would ever speak.
Smash now addressed the wounded black orc, who had been roughed up pretty badly himself. “You tell the League Office that it can dream up all kinds of crazy ways to try to alter history and glorify certain teams that can’t find glory otherwise. It can make Sabermetrics or plyometrics or whatever. But the cold hard truth is that TMNL was, is, and will always be Season 3 Wicked Forest Conference Champions. And that banner will continue to hang here in Jurassic Park. They will have to pry it from our cold, dead, scaly hands.”
A bloodcurling scream emanated from inside the stadium. Homer had broken free from Raarnold’s grasp. The scream was getting louder as Homer got closer to Gate 13. The orc would never forget that scream…or the horrors that he witnessed that little maniac commit with that scream as his soundtrack. By the time Homer burst outside, drenched in the goblin’s blood, the orc was gone.