While Kelso is doing her thing. It's hard to keep Turtles eye on vulture guy and off the show, but he manages and a good thing too.

While Turtle watches, Vulture creep starts muttering to himself. The music is too loud to hear what he's saying, but his lips are moving and he starts rocking back and forth in his seat. Sweat beads on his pale forehead.

The air around Turtle starts to crackle and hiss. The small hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. This is black magic. He has felt it before. It's like standing too close to an open electrical line. Gooseflesh breaks out on his arms and a shiver runs up the spine.

The crowd can feel it. They shift in their seats, a few even look around, but they don't know what to make of this strange uneasy feeling that suddenly enveloped them. Most will pass it off as a sudden cold spell or too much drink. A few of the more sensitive ones will be extra-sure to lock the door when they get home.

Remembering the last time Turtle dealt with black magic will keep him awake tonight. The shudders and colds would be nothing compared to what's about to come.

If Mr. Vulture is casting a spell, tackling him should end it. On the other hand, although Mr. Vulture is acting suspicious, Turtle has been wrong about people before. Besides, he's farther away from Turtle than Kelso is. Maybe his priority should be to protect her first and worry about the bad guy later.

The steady crescendo of Kelso's song and the feeling of wild electricity in the air weave together into something palpable. Whatever is going on, it's going to happen before Kelso finishes her act.

Anxiously and quickly, the crowd turns to look at the stage. Turtle almost expects to see Kelso's hands starting to glow a bright blue or purple. Turtle runs for the stage, weaving between tables, ignoring angry shouts from jostled customers and leap onto the raised platform. Kelso sees him and her eyes go wide. Overhead metal twists and shrieks. An amplifier sparks and shorts out. Her fans go sailing through the air. Turtle land on top of her. He barrels into Kelso, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist.

The lighting scaffold tears away from the ceiling with a terrific screech and crashes down on the stage in a shower of twisted metal and broken glass. The lights go out! The dark is broken by the bright flash of lightning. Thunder resonates through the floor and the roar of it can be heard over the crowd. Then, light returns back to normal quickly.

Turtle and Kelso are safe, but just barely. The scaffold came down where she stood only seconds ago. The music has stopped and the customers, most of them, are running for the exits. Turtle coughs to clear the smoke and dust from his lungs and manages to choke out, "You alright?"

Kelso nods her head. "I'm alive" She looks up into his eyes and adds, "Because of you."

"Thank me later." He manages a weak grin and says, "We gotta get the hell out of here."

He scrambles off Kelso and climb over the wreck of the scaffold, looking for Mr. Vulture. He's on his feet, staring up at the stage, the fingers of his left hand still toying with the pentagram ring on his right pinkie.

Turtle and he lock eyes. For a moment, those dark eyes bore into Turtle. If looks could kill.

In that moment, he turns and flees. It's now or never. It's time to put the ring back where it belongs... or not.

Turtle has no idea what that was all about. He's not even going to pretend to know. Maybe it was some elaborate practical joke. It could still be. He's never going to know if he doesn't go up there. Turtle charges out the front, spots Vulture creep half a block down and sprints to catch up. Turtle closes half the distance when he glances over his shoulder. His brows pinch. He turns to face Turtle. "Can I help you?" he asks.

Turtle balls his fists in answer.

The vulture takes it in the jaw. He falls back, hands clasping his face, making a weird hooting sound. He tries to scream, but all that comes out is a jumble of garbled syllables.

He quickly gets back up, and Turtle goes for another round of punch. However, Vulture man reaches into his coat, comes out with a curved dagger that catches the light from the street lamps, and then lunges.

Turtle has just enough time to get his hands up. The heavy canvas sleeves of Turtle's overcoat take the brunt of the attack, but he feels a white hot whisper along his forearms. The warm slick of fresh blood soaks through his shirt sleeves. Turtle stagger backwards, barely avoiding another deadly swipe from his knife blade.

Vulture guy delivers a fancy martial arts kick. His foot slams into Turtle's stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He sits down hard. Vulture man raises the knife for the killing blow. Turtle throw both hands up in a feeble attempt to stop the dagger going into his head. A scream echoes along the boulevard and he stops. They both look round and see Candy Thirst and Kelso out front of the club, their hands at their throats, red lips open and eyes wide. Candy lets out another ear splitter. A dozen people on the sidewalk are watching the action, while the bartender is also rushing for help.

Vulture says, "This isn't my fault, you crazy motherducker!"

Turtle shouts at Vulture like he has been keeping decades of pent up grudge against him, "You're going down, my friend! "

Vulture guy laughs and takes a step back.

Mr. Vulture, realizing he's got witnesses, pockets his dagger and lunges for a nearby cab. Before he can even slam the door shut, Ratty, Candy, bartender and Kelso are at Turtles side. "Are you hurt?"

"I''Il live," Turtle tells them.