Read The Casey Chronicles for Free Online

gotta be prepared.

Casey barely recognized his face in the mirror.
    Since his battle with the Footbots, he’d decided to make some changes. He’d upped his workout—chin-ups, push-ups, you name it—and bulked up as much as he could. He needed to be stronger than ever. He needed to be able to take a beating. He needed to be ready for
combat.
    Next, he suited up for battle. He started with his hockey pads. Normal gloves were great on the ice, but for hero work, they needed a little something extra. With some industrial glue, he added rusty nails to his blocker, and voila! Homemade spiked gauntlets.
    Then he focused on his weapons. He taped up his old hockey sticks and stuck them in a sheath, which he slung across his back. There was room for more, so he added a baseball bat and an old golf club he found in a Dumpster to his arsenal. Those felt right. But deep down, he knew that to compete with robots and monsters and other weirdoes who had high-tech weaponry, he needed more of an edge. So he borrowed a potato masher from the kitchen and hooked it up to some old batteries to make his very own electroshock weapon.
    Casey studied himself in the mirror and practiced his trash talk. “Who do you think you are?” he asked the imaginary villains all around him. “A ninja?”
    He tested his electroshock weapon. It crackled with tendrils of electricity. He was pleased with the
shocking
results.
    â€œBring it, punk!” he said, trying his best to sound tough.
    Perfect. Now for the finishing touch
, he thought.
    He needed to look menacing. He needed to harness fear and mold it into a mask. A face that would send a chill up the spines of bad guys everywhere.
    And suddenly it hit him.
    A goalie’s mask.
    He blew most of his money on spray paint at the local art store. Enough to give his mask a fearsome facelift. He toyed with many different designs and finally landed on one that felt bad … to the
bone.
    A skull.
    He covered it with glow-white spray paint.
    Then he put it on, checking out his new look in the mirror.
    He didn’t look like a kid anymore. He looked just as freaky as those mutant monsters waiting out there for him. He was a dangerous creature now, a force to be reckoned with.
    â€œScum-suckin’ mutated freaks of the world, prepare to meet … CASEY JONES.”

Casey Jones wasn’t the only one preparing for a fight. So were the Turtles.
    As part of a new training exercise, Master Splinter had them report to the
dojo
with their weapons ready. The wise sensei stood before them with a solemn air until he had complete silence.
    â€œMy sons,” he said, admiring their flawless form, “you are truly becoming impressive warriors. But to grow as a team, you must know each other’s strengths and weaknesses.”
    At that moment, Mikey broke his silence—by unleashing the smelliest burp ever! The fumes were so strong they wafted to Donnie’s nostrils and refused to let go.
    â€œRight in my face?” Donnie gagged. “Really?”
    â€œGarlic and clam pizza,” Mikey said with confidence.
    Splinter ignored this. “This competition is a free-for-all. Last Turtle standing wins!” he announced, then gave the Japanese command to begin:
“Hajime!”
    â€œI’m still seeing spots,” Donnie mumbled. Mikey’s burp fumes had clouded his vision, which Raph used to his advantage. He snuck up behind Donnie and roundhouse-kicked him into the tree!
    â€œSorry, Donnie,” he said with a smirk. “It’s a ninja-eat-ninja world!”
    Raph got his
sais
ready for his next victim: Mikey. He chased his little brother around the
dojo
, hoping to catch him off guard. He saw his opportunity.
    Until Leo jumped in his way.
    Sparks flew as their blades met—Leo’s
katanas
clashing against the cold steel of Raph’s
sais.
    â€œWhat are you doing, Leo?” Raph growled. “I was goin’ for