Except the world wasn't so hostile. People were trying to push between the gaps in the vans. Most of them were younger people. Some were older teens and young adults, children of the 00's, some were in their late twenties and early thirties, people that had been children of the 80's and 90's.
They all had two things in common: One, they'd all watched one of many iterations of the turtles when they were younger. Two, they'd grown up in a world where Guardians watched over their hopes and dreams and fought against their nightmares. The Guardians had protected their happy memories and had given them a sense of joy and wonder and fun. They had made them love stories. Those memories gave them courage in dark times, those dreams kept their minds open to new ideas, that fun kept them loving fun things as adults, that wonder made them curious about the unknown instead of fearful of it, and that love of stories meant they had their idols, the characters they had always wished were real. It meant they had more heroes to look up to than just the ones reality had to offer. They had ideas to look up to as well.
And now, for many of them, two of those heroes were sitting there bound and beaten, with menacing Men in Black type figures crowding around them with guns.
And they were real. They were real and they were surrounded by figures with guns and tasers and black vans that wanted to take them away.
They didn't know why they had the desire to fight, they had long since forgotten and stopped believing in the beings that had helped them grow up kind and open-minded and brave.
But one thing they did all know: nothing about this situation was radical.
"Mommy, mommy! What are they doing to the ninja turtles? What are they doing?" a little girl cried - and that was the spark.
"Becky, can you take her?" said the women's mother, handing her off to what looked like a female relative.
Then she stepped forward and got in the face of an agent standing in her way.
"Either they're dumb kids in costumes or the actual fuckin' ninja turtles, as crazy as that is. Whatever the hell is going on, they're hurt! They need to get to a hospital!"
"Ma'am, you need to step back!" one of the agents said, pushing her back.
" - What are you doing with them?! Where are you taking them?!"
That was when members of the crowd rushed in, furious.
"Let them go!"
" - is an amazing, mind-blowing thing and you're just going to drag them off and make them disappear, aren't you -"
" - got guns and tazers on them! They're gonna taze them -"
" - and they're just kids! Whether they're kids in costumes or not, they're just kids -"
"- you can't hurt them, we won't let you -"
A man jumped into the fray, trying to shove through the gap, yelling, "Cowabunga, dudes!" as a battle cry.
That was when the powder keg went off and the shoving and fighting started to turn violent. Someone threw a shoe at one of the agents' heads, then a punch, then someone dropped as they were tazed. Then it started to morph into what looked like the start of a riot.
Despite their defense of the turtles, it was still falling exactly in line with the plans of those trying to destroy the idea of them. Everyone watching on the news, from children to adults who had once been children, would have to face the dread horror of seeing something they found wonderful, something that had or still did make them feel safe, taken away to be destroyed.
And even the grown ups fighting back couldn't stop it.
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They all had two things in common: One, they'd all watched one of many iterations of the turtles when they were younger. Two, they'd grown up in a world where Guardians watched over their hopes and dreams and fought against their nightmares. The Guardians had protected their happy memories and had given them a sense of joy and wonder and fun. They had made them love stories. Those memories gave them courage in dark times, those dreams kept their minds open to new ideas, that fun kept them loving fun things as adults, that wonder made them curious about the unknown instead of fearful of it, and that love of stories meant they had their idols, the characters they had always wished were real. It meant they had more heroes to look up to than just the ones reality had to offer. They had ideas to look up to as well.
And now, for many of them, two of those heroes were sitting there bound and beaten, with menacing Men in Black type figures crowding around them with guns.
And they were real. They were real and they were surrounded by figures with guns and tasers and black vans that wanted to take them away.
They didn't know why they had the desire to fight, they had long since forgotten and stopped believing in the beings that had helped them grow up kind and open-minded and brave.
But one thing they did all know: nothing about this situation was radical.
"Mommy, mommy! What are they doing to the ninja turtles? What are they doing?" a little girl cried - and that was the spark.
"Becky, can you take her?" said the women's mother, handing her off to what looked like a female relative.
Then she stepped forward and got in the face of an agent standing in her way.
"Either they're dumb kids in costumes or the actual fuckin' ninja turtles, as crazy as that is. Whatever the hell is going on, they're hurt! They need to get to a hospital!"
"Ma'am, you need to step back!" one of the agents said, pushing her back.
" - What are you doing with them?! Where are you taking them?!"
That was when members of the crowd rushed in, furious.
"Let them go!"
" - is an amazing, mind-blowing thing and you're just going to drag them off and make them disappear, aren't you -"
" - got guns and tazers on them! They're gonna taze them -"
" - and they're just kids! Whether they're kids in costumes or not, they're just kids -"
"- you can't hurt them, we won't let you -"
A man jumped into the fray, trying to shove through the gap, yelling, "Cowabunga, dudes!" as a battle cry.
That was when the powder keg went off and the shoving and fighting started to turn violent. Someone threw a shoe at one of the agents' heads, then a punch, then someone dropped as they were tazed. Then it started to morph into what looked like the start of a riot.
Despite their defense of the turtles, it was still falling exactly in line with the plans of those trying to destroy the idea of them. Everyone watching on the news, from children to adults who had once been children, would have to face the dread horror of seeing something they found wonderful, something that had or still did make them feel safe, taken away to be destroyed.
And even the grown ups fighting back couldn't stop it.