“You don’t have to worry anymore, we are in the right place now, Mickey.”

Mister D always had a way of soothing the anxiety and stress of all the unknowns. He was, in fact, born into it. Not by choice at all – we’re certain no one would ever choose that path – but he found himself on it with his partner in crime and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

He sleeps so peacefully. Like, no matter what is going on outside, all is fine inside. It’s a character trait Mickey admired of Mister D. A piece that’s been rubbing off on him lately.

Now, if he could just learn the art of sleep like D…

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As they wander through the side streets off Avenue, Micky Madness and Mister D share a moment of awe cloaked in disparity.

“How did they get there, Misted D?” says Micky. “I mean, how can one afford the Beemer with full blackout tints, matte black 22″ rims, parked outside the brick inlay, 2 car garage, heated driveway in front, two story modern day castle…? Do you think they’re happy? Do you think if that hedge isn’t trimmed each week they lose sleep? Who are these people and how did they get there? Will we ever get there, D?”

D just stared back, concerned, but unsure of how to answer. His inquisitive eyes scanned Micky for any signs of sadness or anger. He knew how rough the past three years had been for the both of them. He certainly didn’t want to upset Micky. They had just arrived in this new place and he was enjoying the sights and smells of the hood. Instead, he just carried on forward with a softer stride, as if to say “it’s alright, man. We’re getting there.”

It’s a hard pill to swallow. But he knew that with patience, D’s instincts were right. It’s why they have come so far from the west. From comfort. A strange stagnant comfort. Micky gazed into the park off of Poplar Plains, as a fixed gear bicycle slowly climbed the gradual ascent and vanished into the unknown territory around the bend at the top. The smells of a new summer, full blown in the big city took over his senses. Barbecue, hot tubs, gatherings – all these shiny, happy people enjoying their lives and what they’ve made of it all. Fitting too, as the sounds were quickly muffled by the rushing sewer water   passing underground as the boys passed a nearby manhole. A reminder that even Royalty had real shit just below the surface.

But this was just another moment of nostalgia for Micky, reminiscing to the times as a young boy he dreamed of (and sometimes tried to execute) running through the streets and calling down to the Ninja Turtles much to his mothers chagrin.

“Do you think they even know we’re here?” Micky said, just loud enough for Mister D to look back with his ever-so-confident smirk:

“They sure will.”