[It's dark, dank, stinky and smelly as the scene opens up on a locker room door, that leads to a room long thought abandoned. The camera zooms in on the nameplate... it's worn down and faded, but if you squint you can make it out...]


[A hand, one we haven't seen in years, then stretches out from off-screen and reaches for the door knob. The knob slowly turns, and the door creeks open. The worst odor you could possible imagine... worse than if dirty hockey equipment and a literal pile of crap had a weird love child, and then that love child mated with the offspring of a long-dead fish and severe BO, and THAT weird love child mated with Michael Garcia. THAT bad.]


[The hand pushes the door open wider and flicks on a light. Something scurries, but it was quicker than the speed of light. The hand is attached to a man, and that man has a voice. The voice calls out.]

"Hello? Someone in here?"

[No response. So the hand picks up a Katana Blade, conveniently placed by the door, and moves towards the leather couch - which is now tattered, abused and worn out (too soon for another Garcia joke, yeah?). The man peaks over the back of the couch and sees four creatures squatting down, doing their best to hide.]


[They're not just creatures... they're anthropomorphic Raccoons! They're larger than your average raccoon - about the size of a small child. The tuft of hair on their faces that is usually black, isn't black on these raccoons. One has blue hair in that spot. One purple, one red and one orange. The voice calls out again, startling the Raccoons, bringing them to their feet in a defensive fighting pose.]

"Who the heck are you?"

[The blue one takes a half step forward and responds, showing his position as leader of the group.]

"We're the Teenage Mutant Ninja Raccoons... did The Trimmer send you?"

[The man is taken aback.]

"The... Trimmer?"

[The red one speaks up, clearly the short-tempered one of the group.]

"You hard o' hearing? Yeah the Trimmer. You with him?"

[The man drops the Katana to the couch and scratches his head.]

"I have no idea what you're talking about. This... this is my locker room. Or was. I'm not clear on how long they hold these things for you."

[The purple on demonstrates his superior intellect with his response.]

"The Trimmer is our arch nemesis. He and our Master have been enemies since longer than we have been alive. We've been hiding out here since our home in the big redwood outside was invaded by little robots called Ratters. We're sorry if we've intruded, but we didn't know where else to go."

[The man is truly beside himself, with no idea how to respond. Before he can, the orange one chimes in.]

"Cowabunga Dude!"

[He leaps across the room into the mans arms. He is caught off guard, but something about the little guy has warmed a place in his heart that he thought long dead.]

"I don't know what to make of any of this, but I guess if you clean up and pick up after yourselves, you can stay here as long as you'd like..."

[He places the orange masked raccoon down on the couch and turns towards the door.]

"I'm going to go take a shit."

[The blue one calls out to him.]

"Hey, you never told us YOUR name..."

[He stops... his back to the Raccoons. Turns his head slightly to the left and responds.]

"Ramon... Randy Ramon."