Summary: - The turtles are ten and it's Mikey's very first attempt at a full Christmas dinner – I think the title pretty much explains it!

Disclaimer: - I OWN ABSOLUTELY NOTHING…except the plot…and the turkey!

A/N: - This is a little Christmas story I came up with randomly. Read, review and enjoy!

The Day Michelangelo overcooked the Turkey

LEO'S POV

I remember it well – and people say my cooking's bad! Mikey is, to be fair, the only one in our family who can cook properly, apart from Sensei but he doesn't cook very often anymore. But this time I think it was safe to say that Michelangelo's cooking left a little to be desired…

"Leo!" he yelled at me from the kitchen, "where the shell did Raph hide the turkey?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I replied.

"I dunno – I just thought you would…" Mikey's voice trailed off. I sighed, knowing that this was the first time my youngest brother was going to make Christmas dinner for us. And it was mean of Raph to hide the turkey from him!

"Try the fridge," I called to Mikey. I heard the fridge door open and Mikey give a delighted squeal.

"It's here! Thank-you, Leo!"

"No problem."

Ha, I'm starting to wish I'd never helped him out now – but we were only ten and we were extremely naïve…that is, everyone except Raph. He was still as stubborn about going exploring in places Master Splinter told us not to go as he is now; always wandering off, leaving me as the one with the job of finding him and lecturing him when he got home. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the Christmas dinner that fateful year…

"MIKEY!" Raph's furious voice came from the kitchen. Mikey hurried out of the bathroom, where he'd been cleaning up after spilling gravy on himself.

"Yeah?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. Not being one to miss an argument, I decided to follow.

"YOU PUT OXO CUBES IN MY COKE! NOW I CAN'T DRINK IT, YOU MORON!"

"Sorry, Raphy, I thought it was the gravy…but if that's your coke then where's the gravy?"

"ARGH!" a small cry from Donnie's room met our ears exactly on cue, "WHAT THE SHELL? GRAVY?!"

"Uh-oh…" Mikey looked to me for support but I was too busy controlling my laughter, a very difficult job when you have such an amusing scene in front of you. I didn't succeed in my quest until Raph let out a roar and leapt at me.

I can still recall the lecture Sensei gave Raph and me after that one. I wasn't in the wrong, of course, but Raph managed to twist the story so it seemed that way! But things were only just beginning to heat up…and that includes the turkey…

"Can you smell burning?" Raph sniffed the air cautiously.

"Yeah…" I paused. There was only one explanation I could think of for the smell, "…Mikey?"

"Yeah?" Mikey looked up from the comic book he was reading.

"How long has the turkey been in for?"

"Coming up to six hours…"

"MIKEY!" Donnie jumped up from his seat hurriedly, "it was only meant to be in for four and a half hours, five at most!"

"Oh no!" Mikey rushed out, almost in tears, to try and save the turkey he'd worked so hard on to prepare. I felt so sorry for my baby brother…

Poor Mike – he tried so hard that day. He really wanted to impress everyone – and I swear that if I wasn't such a rubbish cook then I would've helped him out. Of course, we then had to eat Mike's 'handiwork', but I'll come to that later. Firstly, what Christmas dinner would be complete without…roast potatoes…

"Hey, Donnie, did Mikey ever find the potatoes?"

"Kinda…"

"What do you mean, 'kinda'?"

"I mean he got potatoes but not exactly roast ones."

"Donnie…what's Mikey done?" I asked, a warning tone in my voice.

"You might want to take a look, Leo," Donnie answered quickly before running back off to the physics experiment he was halfway through conducting. I grimaced; curiosity killed the turtle, but I dared to venture into the kitchen anyway.

"Wreck the halls with headless Donnies,"

"Uh, Mikey, I don't think that's---"

"Die from Leo's Christmas lollies."

"Mikey…" I tried again to get his attention.

"Hungry turtles going crazy, falala falala la la la. Beat them up because they're lazy – falalalala lala la LA!" Mikey finished with a massive opera-style rallentando and spun round. I clapped sarcastically, almost making him jump out of his shell. Curse Raph and his stupid Christmas parodies!

"Mikey, how long until dinner?" I inquired casually.

"Dunno, the chips are almost done…"

"What?!"

"French Fries a la Michelangelo!" he laughed.

"Hopeless," I sighed, escaping while I had the chance but calling back as an afterthought, "remember not to put vinegar on mine!"

Next came eating the dinner – you have to admire Mikey's efforts at ten years old but this has to be the only Christmas dinner of his that I would rather forget! We all wanted to make Mikey feel good about himself, even if it meant eating the 'food', but we would've preferred to do it in a way that didn't result in us spending most of the time leaning over the toilet, the sinks and any other large bowl shaped things while trying to hide the truth from Mikey.

"Is it ok?" Mikey asked anxiously, watching me take a mouthful of turkey and stuffing.

"It's great," I lied, attempting to swallow what tasted more like rotten vegetables and sawdust than stuffing and turkey. I glared across the table at Raph, who was piling as much of the food, if you can call it that, into a napkin as he could. Mikey, spotting what Raph was doing, started to sniff, tears welling up at the corners of his little eyes.

"I'm saving some for later," said Raph hurriedly. I rolled my eyes, despairing – that was the excuse Raph had always used to use when I cooked - Mikey wasn't that stupid.

"Really? So ya like it?"

"It tastes incredible, Mikey – like nothing I've ever eaten before."

"Ok," Mikey grinned. I couldn't believe it – he fell for it – but at least the second part of what Raph had said was true, if nothing else.

"Donnie, are you ok?" I asked, turning my attentions to my second youngest brother. He had gone very pale and so I motioned for him to go to the toilet while I kept Mikey occupied. Donnie still wasn't back ten minutes later and, just as pudding was being served, Raph asked to get another drink. He didn't come back either.

"Dammit," I cursed under my breath, "they planned this!"

They may have escaped the rest of the dinner and the pudding but they certainly didn't escape the side effects! Splinter was absolutely fine so he kept Mikey distracted that night while we recovered from our…ordeal. Thankfully, six years on, Mikey would now be able to cook to the standard of a seriously high class restaurant…which reminds me…I have to go – there's a Christmas dinner waiting for me on the table!

END