Pressure's On
I stand frozen in place… not by choice. Believe me, I would gladly move if I could, and it hasn't been for lack of trying.
How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? …Months? My stomach reminds me that it's empty, and there's a peppermint and anchovies pizza in the fridge, mere steps around the corner, calling my name. 'Mikey… Michelangelo… Come eat me!' I'm coming, little pizza buddy… I'm coming! …as soon as I can move…
At this rate, Raph will have eaten it all before I even get there!
And, speak of the turtle…
He glares at me. Totally used to that, though… Resting jerkface is his standard expression, after all. One brow rises as he regards me in my unnaturally motionless state. "The shell is this, Mikey? You lose another round of one-turtle Freeze Tag?" I attempt to whimper, but the paralysis has my jaw locked and my voice box straining to make any sound.
When I don't answer, he gives me a hearty slap to the back of my head. Ow! And then ow again! In any other circumstances, I would complain. I am complaining on the inside. Now, though, I hope that the motion will jar me loose of my agony. Come on, Raphie! Hit me, just a little harder! Not too hard, mind you, just… No! Don't walk away mumbling! …Uff! Raaa~aaph! The one time I need you to be violent…!
Nevermind. My bros have got my back. They'll get me out of this mess.
In fact, here comes Donnie. I can absotively count on the family physician and genius to get me out of this awkwardly painful, painfully awkward sitch. Don'll figure it out
He puts a hand to his chin, no doubt assessing the odd posture my nerves have locked me into and determining the best way to unfreeze me.
"Ah!" he exclaims, snapping his fingers.
Yes! He's got a plan on how to release me!
"The Discobolus, of ancient Greek sculpture."
Wh-What?
"You know which one I mean… The Discus Thrower. The guy with the Frisbee?" he explains in that 'talking down to you' tone of his. I don't care what the Discombobulus is, Don… just fix me!
Oh, great… he thinks I'm playing a game. Granted, most of the time I am. But not this time! Donnie!
"No? Then, possibly, the second to last picture on the evolutionary progression?"
How about 'Your Brother Is Stuck And Wants You To Unstick Him ASAP,' bro?!
He's thinking again. Hopefully of my cure—
"…That blurry picture of Bigfoot?" he tries tenuously.
I roll my eyes, about the only thing I can move. No, bro. Totally off base.
He sighs. "Sorry, Mikey… I'm out of guesses. Maybe Leo will figure it out. I've really got to get back to those mutagen samples, though. Good luck!" He claps me on the shoulder, driving my foot back into its impalement once again, and my muscles immediately seize back up, losing all the ground they'd gained in loosening.
Don, no! Come back!
But no, of course not. He disappears into his lab, leaving me frozen out here.
And they say I'm the unobservant one.
They're wrong about that, though. I pay attention… I do! I totally remember everything Master Splinter was saying the other day about pressure points, and how to use them to paralyze your opponents in the heat of battle. So awesome.
And that's how I know what's happened to me, why all my muscles have tightened to the point I can't even move, why I've been standing here since I took one step out of my room. …Which—they were right—I needed to clean. So my current fate, which I'm sure they'll throw back in my face at the first chance, is entirely my own fault.
I stepped on a stray Lego.
Right on the sharp little corner.
Right in the major pressure point in the bottom of the foot.
And it's wedged in there at an angle, so any time I put any weight on it—or someone smacks or nudges me a little—I get impaled again.
Refrozen.
Seriously, every single muscle is on fire, and all I can do is sit here and try to stay off that little booger until someone gets me out of here. I must scream, and I can't move my mouth. Or however that goes.
And so far, two of my older brothers have not been a lot of help.
But Leo will help me! I'm sure of it! He'll instinctively know something's off and probably tap the tendons that release the pressure point, or something.
We didn't learn that part from Sensei yet. Leo's way ahead of the rest of us, though, so Master Splinter probably already taught him. I hope so… I'm starving, and I wanna go chow down on that pizza. I'll even save some for Leo, even though I could eat the whole thing myself at this point.
On top of that, I feel the intense need to bounce off the walls for a while. I have so much pent-up energy inside me right now from being so confined, I could explode all the way to Jupiter. Or Uran—No, no… don't make yourself laugh right now, Mikey… that'll just make things worse! Heh, Uranus. OW! Dangit…
I hear his footsteps! Leo! Leo, over here, brah!
He blinks at me. "Mikey? Are you okay?"
I meet his eyes pleadingly. Help, Leo! Help me out of this, please, please, please!
"All right. Well, when you're done playing around…"
Grrr… LEO! Cripes… And then comes the entire agenda for the evening, blah, blah, blah…
"…and then it's time for evening warm-ups and patrol. Okay?"
LEO! LEEEEOOO! Bro, will you catch a clue?!
"Well," he says, "have fun with… whatever this is you're doing. Don't forget to clean your room."
Then he pats me firmly on the head, adding injury to insult to injury, and the agony races through my captive body again. Then he turns without so much as a backward glance and goes to talk to Donnie.
Ow, ow, ow! Leo, WHYYY?!
Looks like I may be here for a while. Might as well start naming all the cracks I can see in the wall from here. Let's see… you'll be Jackson McCracken… And that one's gonna be… Cracky Crackerson… You're Mack "the Crack" Krackovich… I'm so the best at this.
After I don't know how long, kept company by Jackson McCracken and his Too Crack Crew, I huff an irritated sigh. Good… at least my chest is loosening up enough for that.
I am so disappointed in my bros right now. And hungry. And I think I have to pee… uh-oh. That does not bode well… Sewer apples! Guys! Where are you?! Come back!