Light on his feet, and like a cat, he dodged each shadow to the kitchen. He bypassed Michelangelo snoring in rhythm to the static on the television. He shuffled by the dojo, where the clangs of Leonardo's katana clashed, meeting sai.
Just a few more steps to the kitchen, no lights though to alert anyone to his presence, he opened the cabinet and pulled out the can opener. His orange friend hopped off his shoulder and purred his delight. "Shh, my friend," the figure whispered as a hand reached for the wet cat food.
In a flick of light, vision unblurred to a scene that would haunt Michelangelo for years to come. "…Master Splinter, how could you? Klunk is on a diet, you heard April, no more wet food, and how could you feed him, but you ignore me? I waste away on Leo's healthy stuff…."
Mikey continued his tirade on poor Splinter as Klunk slunk away in defeat of his great foe and went once again to dream of the wet goodness of his favorite dish.