CHAPTER: 1

Mikey could still hear his brother's laughter as he slammed the door to his room, sitting in the corner farthest from the door and trying not to cry.

"Why do they gotta be so cruel," he whispered to the posters of his heroes around him; the only ones that didn't laugh at his efforts to do something nice for them. He didn't mean to burn the popcorn...or the eggs...or anything he tried to make him, but his brothers didn't seem to care. Mikey hugged a pillow close to his chest, just to feel something warm. He knew he was the youngest, so he expected his brothers to make fun of him and pick on him; they did it all the time, but he thought that they would at least be understanding whenever he tried to do something to make them proud of him.

This latest incident involved a homemade pizza that Mikey spent most of the day working on the dough, the sauce, and the toppings, dedicating a whole quarter to each brother. Raph's was pepperoni and black olives, Donnie was spinach and feta cheese, and Leo's was pineapple and ham (which I hated, but knew he would love). Somehow, he ended up burning the pizza, caused a huge mess, and after his brothers' initial anger, they started mocking his mediocre attempts to make the pizza. Mikey, not only crushed by his failed food, but by also how cruel his brothers were acting towards him.

Mikey cried silently in the corner of his room, hugging the pillow so tightly, he could feel his arms hugging himself. The door to his room was locked, so he didn't have to worry about his brothers if they came back for Round Two of Mock Mikey. Why did I have to mess up that pizza, he thought. They wouldn't be laughing if they saw what I meant to do for them. Just thinking about it made Mikey more determined to try again, and to show them that he wasn't a screw up like they always joked. This time, however, he would do his research, though the only computer belonged to Donnie, and he protected it like a dragon protects gold. Then, he thought of April, since she used to work at a pizza parlor, but then realized that she'd have to come here to help him, and her brothers would know something was up. If only he were human; then he could go to a YMCA class or even go to a pizza place and watch them make pizzas.

A sudden thought of someone to help him came to him, but it scared Mikey so much, he stopped crying.

No way, he thought, that would be-. Crazy, yes, but if he survived-. He nearly killed you, and Donnie, and-. But he's a great chef, and his brothers would never find out, since it's the last place they'd expect him to go. Outside, Mikey heard some more laughter from his brothers, which cemented his decision.

"I'll do it," he said to himself, full of determination. "But this time," he continued, looking over at his chest of costumes, "I'm going prepared."

CHAPTER: 2

A couple nights later, after building up his courage, he decided to pretend to be in the middle of a new video game level, that way his brothers wouldn't bother him. After closing (but not locking) the door behind him, he scribbled a quick note explaining his plan (in case something went terribly wrong; not that they'd care). Looking underneath his bed, he pried open a hidden manhole cover he noticed the first time he moved into the room. It led out into the main sewer tunnel, without having to go through the front door, past his mean brothers and sometimes absent father. Climbing down into the hole, he made his way silently to the tunnel, heading towards the nearest manhole.

He was dressed all in black, like a real ninja (though he still wore his orange mask, since he liked it); he wore a long sleeved shirt and black pants, and he wore gloves and boots with thick socks. The rest of his head was wrapped with a long black scarf. In a way, Mikey had effectively covered each part of his skin, which should protect him from the particular mutant he was seeking.

Half an hour later, he crouched on the top of the building across from an abandoned restaurant. Judging from a motorcycle he saw parked in the alley nearby, he assumed the mutant was home. Mikey hated the mutant, but knew that if anyone could help him, this guy could. Besides, he used to look up to the guy, right? He zip lined over to the building, crawling along the side (avoiding the traps in the alleyway) until he peeked through a window.

The large mutant pig was stirring a pot of something that smelled pretty good, to Mikey's disgust, but upon seeing the tub of silverfish nearby, he sighed with relief knowing that he wasn't eating an innocent mutant. Mikey slowly opened the window, climbing onto the top of a shelf full of pots and pans, being careful not to make us a sound. He had to try hard to avoid any confrontation; the chef was strong, and if he was dealing with the silverfish, he could split into miniature versions of himself. The chef was humming something to himself, adding a few spices and herbs to the mixture, tasting it with a spoon. Mikey's stomach couldn't help grumbling, and the monster's ears perked up.

Meat Sweats whirled around, his piggish red eyes landing on Mikey. "Interesting," he chuckled in that creepy, deep British voice of his, "now the meals are come to me! This makes my life a whole lot easier!"

Mikey mustered up the courage to talk. "I'm not here to be eaten, though if I did...actually, I just wouldn't want that."

"Well, too bad," Meat Sweats said, picking up a large meat mallet and licking his lips. "I've yet to eat a box turtle, and from what I've heard, you taste amazing!" He raised his mallet, preparing to attack.

"Wait," Mikey yelled, holding out his hands, though he had his kusari-fundo in his pants pocket. The monstrous mutant paused, still holding the large mallet, his creepy tentacles wriggling free on his other hand. The young turtle took a deep breath before speaking. "I...I." He struggled to get the word out, though he never had trouble with anyone else. "I need your help."

The giant hog froze, a look of incredulity and surprise on its face, before it bellowed with laughter, grabbing the counter for support as he tried to talk through his laughing. "You need my help?! HA HA HA! Ain't that a thing!" The laughing reminded Mikey too much of his siblings, and something snapped in his head

"SHUT UP," he yelled, which shut the mutant right up. "I'm serious. Whether you wanna eat me, or that fact that I hate you now, the fact is I need you to teach me how to make a pizza. And don't even think about trying to attack and eat me," he added. "I'm not in the mood for a fight, and if I don't come home, my brothers and April will come for you and if you don't want another butt-kicking, you're gonna keep those creepy tentacles to yourself. Besides, I don't have any powers worth taking...We gotta deal?"

Meat Sweats looked a little thrown off by Mikey's sudden outburst. For a minute, he seemed deep in thought while the mutated silverfish bubbled behind him. Mikey prepared for a surprise attack, eyeing the mutant cautiously. Finally, he looked up at the young turtle. "Do you expect me to get the ingredients from a store," he demanded.

"No need," the turtle said, holding up a bag; he figured if he brought his own ingredients, Meat Sweats couldn't poison or drug him in any way. "Got them already. Just please teach me really quick tonight, and then you'll never have to deal with me again, OK?" Mikey considered making the pleading eyes, though considering the mutant, he decided to look determined.

The pig eyed him suspiciously, sniffing the air (perhaps to look to see if a possible ambush might occur) before putting down the meat mallet. "Fine," he grumbled irritably. "This'll be your one free pass. But if you tell anyone about this, I'll crush you like a rock and eat you with a side of risotto." He licked his lips, as if already planning out the meal in his head.

Mikey gulped a little at that, but climbed down from the shelf. "Don't worry; I won't."

Mikey had to admit, while Meat Sweats was a disgusting, horrible mutant, he was an excellent chef, turning on the large oven behind him. Mikey tried not to imagine what he cooked in there. Cleaning off the counter, and even washing his hands (tentacles?), he examined Mikey's ingredients, sniffing each container one by one.

"Not bad," he said gruffly, "but you could've gotten more flour. This'll do for tonight." Mikey nodded, watching Sweats pull out a bowl and begin to make the dough, sprinkling some extra flour on the counter top. The turtle had no idea how the chef managed to grab anything with those tentacles, or keep them clean, but he was amazed to watch the mutant pig mix the ingredients with a whisk, his tentacles wrapped around the handle. Mikey couldn't help admiring how quickly Sweats mixed the dough, eventually picking it up and plopping it on the counter.

"D'you know how to knead," the pig asked.

"N-not really; isn't it-t like those people on TV that toss the dough in the air?"

Meat Sweats rolled his eyes, picking up the dough and starting to make an odd folding motion with it. "That's just on TV. You gotta knead the dough, 'cause it makes the cooked dough chewy and light." Mikey nodded as he watched the mutant chef knead for a while. Then, he pushed the dough towards the turtle. "Now you try."

Mikey tentatively picked up the dough, still wearing his gloves (he wasn't taking any chances), folding the dough the way he saw the mutant do it. The hog watched him, and Mikey was tense, ready to bolt should the need arise, the smell of fresh dough pleasing to his nose.

"Try folding it more to your left," the chef said curtly, pointing at an unfolded corner, which Mikey quickly started to knead. "I must say, for a thorn in my side, you're not too bad at this."

"...Thanks," Mikey said hesitantly after a minute, still wary of the mutant; it could be a trick to lure him into a false sense of security. It'd done that before, and Mikey still resented the mutant for that; even more than the other parts of his personality. Besides,even if his brothers did find his note, they might get here too late and he'd already be eaten by Meat Sweats.

"Now," Meat Sweats continued, cutting the dough in half, giving one of the halves to Mikey, "you gotta flatten out your dough into a circle shape." Pressing down on the dough, he flattened it out, making a small circle covered with tentacle-shaped indents. It was creepy, yet interesting to watch, and the turtle wondered how, if Sweats was a pig, he ended up with those tentacles.

Mikey followed suit, pressing the dough between his fingers. If he wasn't so terrified of the pig mutant, he probably would have been having a great time. It was times like this Mikey wished that heroes stayed heroes, instead of becoming something horrible and different. Meat Sweats was Mikey's main example, but Mikey also remembered a time when Raph learned his favorite wrestler was a cheater. Thinking about his brothers made Mikey mad at them again, and he started pressing the dough down with some force.

Looking up, he noticed the mutant chef looking at him funny, so he quickly asked, "So, do we put the toppings on now?"

"Yep," the chef said, looking in the bag Mikey had brought. "If you had olive oil or an egg wash, you could brush the dough to make it golden and crispy, but it'll still taste fine without it." Meat Sweats pulled out the jar of pizza sauce that Mikey had gotten from the cabinet back at the lair, sniffing it with some disgust.

"What's wrong," Mikey asked. "Did it go bad or something?"

"Nah, it's just that I prefer fresh ingredients. There's a great pizza sauce recipe I used to make all the time before-" The large mutant cut off suddenly, an odd expression on its face. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the expression was gone, and the mutant quickly opened the jar. "This'll be fine for now."

Mikey looked on as the mutant took a spoon, showing Mikey how to spread the right amount of sauce on the dough. There was a sort of concentration in the pig's eyes that reminded Mikey of the show the creature used to have before it got bitten by the Oozequito, back when he was the celebrity chef Rupert Swaggart. Mikey couldn't imagine what that must've been like; to go from a famous cook with money, a hit show, and respect from the culinary world, then being transformed into a greedy pig that preyed on innocent mutants, prepared them, then devoured them, stealing their powers for his own personal gain. And I thought I had issues, Mikey thought to himself, spreading the sauce over his dough.

After that, they put on cheese (the only topping that Mikey had brought), and watched the pig chef slide the two pizzas into the oven. Mikey's stomach grumbled; the pizzas looked pretty good, though he didn't say anything out loud.

"It'll take about 15 to 20 minutes for the pizza to cook at 400 degrees, but when the crust is a golden-brown, that's a good sign of when to take it out. Plus you gotta give it a few minutes to cool before cutting it." Mikey nodded. The pig eyed him with those pure red eyes. "I assume that wherever you and your brothers live has an oven?"

"Maybe," Mikey said, not wanting to give away where he lived. "But most of the cooking I've seen is on TV; I've been watching it since I was a little kid."

"Really," Meat Sweats commented, sitting down on a chair nearby, which groaned a little under his large weight, picking up a knife and starting to sharpen it. Mikey took a small step back, just to be safe; it was as if the mutant wanted to scare him and make him feel nervous.

"Yeah," Mikey replied, looking at his gloved hands. "I used to watch your show; that's what originally inspired me to be a chef."

The pig chef looked up with some surprise, pausing mid-sharpen, as if he'd never considered that celebrities inspired people (or mutants) to become better at something, but said nothing, leading to a long bout of silence from the two mutants interrupted by the metallic sound of the knives being sharpened. This made sense, considering their last meeting; Meat Sweats attacked Mikey and Todd, became nice for a short while to Mikey, then lied to him to get a rare truffle before trying to kill him.

"May I ask something," Sweats suddenly said, holding a large knife in his tentacles.

Mikey's grip on the weapon in his pocket tightened. "What," he asked warily.

"Why'd you come to me in the middle of the night asking for help making pizza? I'm not exactly your best friend, here." Mikey bristled at that comment, remembering how Sweats pretended to be his friend. "Couldn't you have gone to your nerdy brother for help?"

"'Cause I didn't want to, that's why," Mikey snapped. "Besides, he doesn't know a thing about cooking, and doesn't care about it, thanks to you. He had nightmares for several nights after his first encounter with you." Mikey didn't care if his voice had some resentment in it; Donnie had woken up screaming and crying those first few nights, scared that he was being prepared to be eaten, and it took a while to wake him up and calm him down. Whenever Mikey had a nightmare, he was told to, "Grow up," or, "Go to Master Splinter if you're still scared."

"Hey," the chef said, sounding a little miffed, "I'm a mutant, like you, and I gotta eat. Not my fault if your brother got scared; he just happened to be available, and if I remember," he added, staring at Mikey with some annoyance, "you attacked me first!"

"What about that time with April and I," the young turtle countered, "or trying to eat me and Todd after tricking me into thinking you were nice? That was just plain mean!"

"Hey, I'm sorry you're traumatized, but if you hadn't noticed: we're animals. Plain and simple. Animals eat one another for survival all the time! I just happen to be a better hunter than most of you, and that I have a higher standard of taste and want something more."

"'A higher standard of taste,'" Mikey repeated, disgusted by the creature's warped mentality. "You used to be a human, just like some of the mutants you eat! You're technically still part human! I can't believe I ever looked up to you! I shouldn't have even come here."

"That's your problem," the pig said, pointing the knife at the young turtle, who tensed up. "You don't know a thing about me, but here's what I know: YOU came to ME for help with this pizza. And judging by the fact that it's homemade, and I know for a fact you have access to human food because of your bratty little human friend, I can only assume that this pizza is a surprise for someone; perhaps your family?"

Damn, he was too observant. "No it's not," the turtle said too quickly. "I just...wanna learn for myself. It's a very useful skill, plus I love pizza."

"Sure it is," the mutant said sarcastically, rolling its beady eyes; he obviously wasn't believing the turtle's story, which infuriated the young turtle, for some reason.

"I'm not lying," Mikey said, raising his voice a little. "Besides, even if it was for my family, why would I do it for them? It's not their birthday, it's not an anniversary, and even if it was, it's not like they'd appreciate me trying to do something nice for them!" His voice started getting a little louder as he talked, thinking of what happened a few nights ago. "If I messed up, I'd never hear the end of it, and if I did it, they would barely say, 'Thanks!' They'd just make fun of me for whatever mess I'd make and...a-and-" Mikey felt a few tears start to form in his eyes, but quickly wiped them away. "I'm fine," the ninja turtle muttered unconvincingly. "I'll just...take the pizza when it's ready and go. You won't have to deal with this nonsense ever again."

The chef remained silent, only getting up when the timer went off with a shrill buzz. He put his gloves back on, grabbing the hot pans and placing them on the stove next to the still warm remains of the silverfish. "Are the silverfish even good," Mikey asked, trying to change the subject.

"Not really," the chef replied, checking the consistency of the grey food. "I use up a lotta spices, trying to make them more digestible." The goop certainly didn't look good, but it smelled amazing. A couple minutes later, he cut the pizzas into four small slices each, eating two pieces whole. "Not bad, but if you want it to taste good, add some oregano and Parmesan." He took out a small, flat box, put the remaining pieces of pizza in them, then handed it to Mikey, starting to look at him as if he was a gourmet meal, and the turtle figured it was time to get going.

"Thanks," Mikey said, backing up towards the wall of pots and pans. "Well, I hope you have a nice evening, and hope to see you again, uh, never, though I'm grateful for the pizza lesson. I really learned a lot." He tried to make the last part sound sincere, hoping to throw the pig off with his politeness, then quickly scrambled up the shelves towards the window.

"Hey," Meat Sweats growled behind him. Mikey jumped a little, taking out his kusari as he turned around, ready to fight. The mutant had gone back to stirring the pot, but turned and gave him a long, piercing look with those scary red eyes. "I'm...sorry...about your brother and friends, and I guess you as well. And it's none of my business, but you need to do something if you're coming to a villain's home in the middle of the night for help. And be warned," the hog added, his British accent making his words sound more serious, "this doesn't change anything between your family and I. I will eat you and your family if given the chance." The young turtle didn't respond but quickly jumped out the window, disappearing into the night, leaving the monstrous mutant stirring by himself. Stopping at a building a few blocks away, he looked at the box of pizza in his hands.

Well, he thought, I'm never doing that again, and hurried home, the sounds of New York echoing around him.

CHAPTER: 3

When Mikey arrived in the sewers, he didn't bother going through the secret passage because he ran into his brothers as he got off the ladder leading to the manhole.

"Mikey," Raph yelled, running up to him, followed closely by Leo and Donnie. "Where the shell were you?! D'you know how worried we were?!"

"I just went for some air," he replied, pushing past them as he walked towards the lair. "I'm fine." All he really wanted to do was go to bed, but his brothers now seemed to care about his safety (after the danger was over and the damage was done). The TV was off, meaning that Master Splinter had gone to bed.

"Well we weren't," Leo said dramatically, trying to stop Mikey from going into his room. "What happened? Why are you dressed like that? What's in the bag?"

"I made you pizza," Mikey snapped, shoving the box in Leo's hands. "Enjoy, 'cause right now, I'm going to bed."

"What the-where would you even go to cook something like that? April would've called us and-" Donnie started to say before a sudden realization hit him, and he looked at his brother's eccentric outfit up and down, confirming his suspicion. "Mikey," he gasped, "you didn't!"

"So what if I did? I made sure I was safe. And I left a note in my room."

"We didn't see it," Donatello retorted, and Mikey had a brief flash of fear if the mutant pig had eaten him.

"Where'd he go, Donnie?"

"To see Meat Sweats."

"WHAT," Raph and Leo yelled, both of them shocked while Donnie wore a look of betrayal. Mikey only nodded, tired and just wishing he was in bed.

"Why did you go there," Leo demanded, dropping the box as if it were a bomb.

"None of your business," Mikey said, turning to enter his room, before suddenly being grabbed by Leo, who shook him a little.

"TELL US WHY!"

And with that, Mikey burst into tears. It was as if the dam of all of his emotions had broken, and they flowed out all over the place. His legs gave out under him, and he sank towards the floor, Leo still holding him upright as he sobbed into his older brother's shell; the pizza box lay nearby. Raph and Donnie stood nearby, shocked at the sudden shift in the mood. They looked quickly at Splinter's room, but it appeared he didn't hear what was happening.

"I went because I wanted to do something right," Mikey cried, his voice slightly muffled against Leo's shell. "Everything I do, I either get made fun of or yelled at; especially when I mess up! I'm tired of it! I miss the days where we all made mistakes but still loved and cared about each other. Besides, who else would I ask to help me, you three?! You'd probably be glad if I died! 'Way to screw up and get yourself killed, Mikey!'"

"Mikey," Raph began in a horrified tone, but the young turtle was past listening, pushing himself out of Leo's grip. He now lay on the cold stone floor, still crying and shaking.

"I-I-I just wanted to do something nice for you, like brothers should do, but you didn't even care when I tried the first time! Do you know how hard I worked on that first pizza?! I got your favorite toppings, and I-I..." He lapsed into another round of sobs, hugging himself.

A couple minutes later, he felt a powerful pair of arms encircle him, one of them patting his shell as he continued to cry. Based on the smell, it was Raphael, but this time, Mikey didn't push his brother away. A few moments later, he felt Donnie and Leo hug him as well. The combined hug of the brothers sparked a memory in all of their minds; of a moment many years ago when Mikey had hurt his knee playing a game, and they all hugged him until he stopped crying. History repeated itself as the turtles hugged on another, Mikey's tears eventually dissipating as he calmed down. It took awhile for him to calm down since he hadn't been hugged in a long time, and he didn't want it to end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Shh, shh, shh," Raph whispered, still patting his shell. "It's OK, little bro."

"No it's not," Mikey argued weakly. "I did a stupid thing."

"We all do stupid things," Donnie said. "Look at Leo."

"HEY!"

"No insult. Look, we all do something dumb every once in a while." Donnie patted the back of Mikey's shell. "And right now, Raph, Leo and I did something stupid."

"What," Leo exclaimed, a look of shock mixing with his previously confused expression. "We didn't go visit a villain to make pizza!" Donatello whacked him in the head. "OW!"

"No, Leo, we did mess up, because we forgot about Mikey and his feelings." Leo stopped talking after that, and Mikey looked up at Donnie. "We forgot to treat him like a brother, and we should've been there for him and supported him. Master Splinter taught us to fight, but he also taught us to love one another." Raph and Leo looked ashamed, almost as ashamed as Mikey was earlier. "But Mikey, from now on, we're not going to make fun of you for trying ever again!" They all nodded in agreement. "And for the record, if you died, we would miss you terribly."

Mikey wiped his eyes. "Thanks, guys," he said weakly. "I really am sorry for going. But at least I now know how to make a proper pizza."

"I can't believe you didn't even get a scratch. Did he attack you," Raph asked, looking like he was ready to smash some skulls.

"No. Probably because of my outfit. If he can't touch my skin, he can't take my mojo, man!" Mikey laughed; it was a little shaky, but his brothers smiled, seeing he was going back to his normal self. "And he didn't capture any of our friends, so we're good there."

"Should we eat the pizza," Leo said, picking the box up off the ground.

"I dunno. Even though I brought the ingredients, he still could've done something to the pizza. Besides, he cooked it in that big oven of his." Leo dropped it again, running to the kitchen to wash his hands. "But I'll make you guys a new one tomorrow."

"AWESOME," Raph yelled. "Can I put toppings on it?"

"Put it on one quarter of it," Donnie said. "That way we each get a fourth of the pizza." He then looked over at Mikey, as if looking for some direction from him.

"That's fine," Mikey said, smiling again. "But can we do it tomorrow? I'm pretty tired right now." His brothers agreed, helping him to his feet and hugging him again before letting him go to his room, going to bed themselves.

Mikey took off all the layers, which he was grateful to put up, and lay down on his hammock, staring up at the chalk pictures that were drawn all over the ceiling that were illuminated by a small night light. He was ecstatic that his brothers finally listened to him, and he felt that things were finally gonna get better. The young turtle couldn't wait until tomorrow to show his brothers what he could do, but something was still nagging him. Mikey had a family to go home to, and a happy ending, but for some reason, he felt almost sorry for Meat Sweats; all alone in his broken-down restaurant. Mikey was also surprised that the pig didn't try to eat him; the turtle was prepared to be attacked at any time, but was shocked when the hog didn't do anything of the sort. The young turtle turned on his side, almost sad when he thought of the fact that they couldn't be friends, or at least allies.

Maybe in another world, he thought, slowly drifting off to sleep.

EPILOGUE:

About a week after the smallest turtle paid him an enlightening visit, Meat Sweats was cleaning the kitchen. It didn't take very long (he'd eaten a rabbit mutant earlier, so he was moving pretty fast for someone his size), and when he finished, he sat down at the table, full and satisfied. Maybe he'd watch some TV or work on his traps, he thought, cleaning his knives when he suddenly heard a window slam.

He quickly grabbed a meat cleaver, squinting up at the window over the shelf, but found no one. The pig sniffed the air, hoping to catch the scent of something to eat later, and could've sworn he smelled turtle. He quickly went into the alley, checking his traps for any mutants, but found none. That little turtle was nowhere to be at being disturbed, he went back inside to the table, tossing the cleaver on the counter and sitting back down. He reached for a towel when he noticed a folded piece of paper on the table. An old recipe, perhaps, the mutant chef thought, picking it up and unfolding it.

It wasn't a recipe, but what was written on it caused the mutant pig to burst into tears.

The human Rupert Swaggart used to cry sometimes; usually with joy when he won a Michelin Star, but the mutant Meat Sweats never cried. At least, until that night. Who knew that three words, written in a shaky hand, could reduce the large mutant to tears? The mutant pig chef remembered how he acted towards the small turtle, especially when he pretended to be his friend; seeing the innocence being crushed from his eyes. It was even worse when he realized that the next time he saw those turtles, he'd go for them, holding nothing back, because that's who Meat Sweats was; a gluttonous, uncaring monster. But for now, with no one else around, he was, temporarily, back to being Rupert Swaggart.

The note only had three words, three out of thousands, but put together, they had a large impact on the pig. It said:

"I forgive you." -M.