April O'Neil's Big Fat Meal

April wasn't sure how she got into this mess.

Everything started with a bang, from what she recalled. Real, actual explosions. That sort of thing wasn't so unusual these days, sure. Not as weird as, say, walking, talking turtles. Thinking on her feet, the journalist did what she often chose to do and ran towards the likely horrible, likely deadly source of the sounds of destruction as fast as she could.

What WAS weird was the guy she ran into on her way to the scene.

April came skidding to a stop as the man blocked the narrow alleyway in front of her. He was tall, his lack of shirt exposing his muscular abs and pecs and his very, very pink skin. If that wasn't enough to tell her the guy wasn't human, than the numerous holes in said skin and freaky tail thing hanging from the back of his skull definitely did.

"Ohhh boy..." April gasped as the pink guy turned around fully to face her, giving the reporter an even better look at his toned body, "And just what the hell are YOU supposed to be?" She asked, raising her handheld camera up and slamming the record button so fast and hard she nearly broke it.

"Ahh, the woman from the television!" The pink man chuckled, his voice deep and commanding as April stared into his unnaturally red irises through the camera's viewfinder. She gulped a bit as she caught sight of them, and the black schlera that surrounded them, but held her ground, capturing every word he said on film as he continued, "April O'Neil, is it not?"

"You got it pal! April O'Neil, Channel Six News!" She rwplied, pulling her eye away from the viewfinder to smile directly at the freaky monster-man before tapping the camera's frame, "Always glad to meet a fan! But enough about me, let's talk about you. Tell me, were you the one causing all that chaos the next block over, or were you heading out to stop it?" Really hoping for the latter because otherwise I've got a problem... She thought to herself.

The man laughed louder, the wickedness dripping from his voice more than enough answer for the human woman, "You know a hero when you see one, don't you Miss O'Neil? You should, you work very closely with this world's defenders, from what little I've seen..."

As he talked, the man began to walk closer towards April, his pace slow, yet steady. Before long, the redhead found herself backing away. Almost every instinct April had told her she should be running, that she should be bolting as fast as she fucking can towards the mouth of the alley, towards safety... towards the very friends this... THING was talking about right this very moment...

But another feeling, one honed by years of investigative journalling digging up dirt on -- And unfortunately, often working with -- the worst slimeballs in the city, told her that was a very bad idea. That feeling knew that if this creep didn't catch her immediately, that meant he was orobably letting her go, hoping he could follow her to the Turtles, to her friends...

April swallowed hard, and stood her ground.

"Again, flattered you know so much about me big guy, but there's so much more I don't know about you! Got a name? You a local, or making a pitstop on an inter-galactic roadtrip?"

"So many questions..." The man said, a hideous grin splitting his face as he towered over the human woman, his muscular neck craned so his strangely almost-human face could leer down at April. Thankfully at least, he'd stopped moving. April had hoped that getting him talking about himself would buy her more time, but he was close enough now that she could see the strange, rubbery shine to his skin. She gagged a little as she looked at it: Something about it reminded her of Krang...