A/N: Okay, first of all let me start out by stating that this story is no way intended as an insult to Splinter. Secondly, the lovely Mikell did bravely beta for me. In no certain terms may she be held guilty by association.
This is what happens when I suffer from lack of sleep, to much caffeine and a really nice hot shower. Presently, I am packing and heading off to the nearest bomb shelter. It was nice to meet you all.
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT. ….obviously.
oOoOo
Splinter vs Sake
It goes without saying that knowing the turtles can be... interesting. Over the time I have been involved in their existence, I have learned that phone calls at any minute of the day or night are a common occurrence. I can usually gauge how bad the situation is depending on whether Donatello is the caller. If he is, the situation is not life threatening because obviously he isn't suturing a gaping wound. If he doesn't call, I'm on my way quicker than Mikey ducking a swat from Raph.
The usual phone calls all start the same.
"Hi April. Can you come over asap? Oh andby the way.. can you bring ( insert any item from peroxide to valium."
Hm... Come to think of there is never a, How are you, or please and thank you. Splinter is right. One would think manners would be part of their training.
The strangest phone call I ever received from them came on a Friday night, May29 to be exact, just a few minutes shy of midnight. Donatello's smooth voice was on the opposite end, so I know no one was amputated or on their death bed.
"Hello," I mutter in a sleepy haze.
"Hi April. Can you come over asap?"
Yup, defiantly have to work on those manners.
"Yeah sure, Don," I reply, already tossing the blankets aside as I slowly sit upright.
"Oh and by the way, can you bring some ginger ale, Pepto-Bismol... and a big bucket of chicken."
"What? Huh?" I ask at his strange request. "Does Mikey have a case of the midnight munchies?"
"No, it's not Mikey," Don answers, still with holding any valuable clue as to what exactly was going on. "But hurry. Oh and.. please."
I hang up the phone and blindly select a heavy sweatshirt from my closet. I don't bother exchanging my cotton furry yellow pajama pants as I exit my room. After slipping my bare feet into an old pair of sneakers, I go to the van.
After swinging by the corner store... and an all night Chicken Deluxe, I head to the turtles secret lair armed with the items Don requested. As the elevator doors open with a mechanical swoosh, I am immediately greeted by baritone voice drifting from somewhere deep with in the home.
"Hello! Guys?" I call out as I wander further into the vacant living room and make my way to the kitchen. As I place my bags on the kitchen counter, I finally zero in on the direction of the voices coming from upstairs. Curious to see what sort of drama the guys have gotten themselves into, I dare to venture forth.
"What are we going to do with him?"
"I don't know, Leo. I just don't know," answers Don's solemn voice.
"Who would of thunk he would have taken this this far?" Raph asks.
My eyes widen. What did Mikey do?
Suddenly, a shrill voice fills my ears and gives me shivers. "Guys! Come quick! I need help!"
Master Splinter? But... what's that singing? I go to investigate the situation. Before I can reach the stair case, I see Master Splinter standing at the top, Mikey at his side. There is a flash of green, brown and blue as Leo appears on Splinter's right side.
"Master Splinter?" I gasp. The Rat sways between the two turtles, his eyelids heavy and a silly smirk on his face.
"Unhand me, Leonardo," he hiccups. "I can do this."
"But Sensei," Leo begs softly. "I...you can not. Please let us help you."
"Yeah, Master Splinter, " Mikey pipes up, in an attempt to be helpful. "You're wasted. You can't walk down those stairs."
"Michelangelo. It is not the student's position to question the teacher," Splinter scolds. " I do not intend to walk. I can fly."
I watch in horror as he tries to push Leo and Mikey aside. The two turtles struggle against their Ninja master, their eye ridges knitted together in sheer concentration.
"Master Splinter, what are you doing?" I ask, hoping to intervene. He stops struggling and looks down at me in such a way that I hunker into my sweat shirt.
"Hello, Ms. O'Neil," he slurs.
Wait. He .. slurred?
I look to Leo for an answer.
"What is wrong with him?" I lip.
"April, he..."
"Nothing is the matter," Splinter answers, easily pulling his arms out of the grasp of his worried sons. He spin on his heels, retreating from the stairs. "I will be in the wash room,"he announces. Once the bathroom door is shut, we hear the shower running, followed by more singing in a voice that pleases my ears.
"Wow. He can really sing, "I announce.
The guys exchange awkward glances.
"What?" I ask. "What song is he singing? It's beautiful. I bet it's an ancient Japanese song. They are filled with passion."
A chorus of awkward coughs sounds from the guys.
"Ah, April," Leo starts. "It isn't exactly what you would think ofas a beautiful ballad."
"Huh?"
Raph snorts in amusement. "It's great."
"Don?" I plead.
"April, it's an old … sailor chant."
Michelangelo laughs. "I love when he gets like this. I never heard so many swear words in Japanese."
"He's...singing a Sailor's song?" I'm dumbfounded that their highly regarded master, was capable of such crass behavior. The guys nod as looks of embarrassment cloud their faces. I mouth WOW and announce that there is chicken in the kitchen. I turn to leave them tend to their father.
"Water would be a good thing for him right now. Lots and lots of water," I call over my shoulder as I descend the stairs. As I sit at the table, I listen to the commotion from up the stairs. Well, Leo's gentle pleas to the Rat and Mikey's hearty chuckles. Don and Raph amble into the room shortly after, Raph wearing a frustrated look and Don waving his arms in the air as he talks.
"But Donny, I'm telling ya. I got him that stuff he drinks. Sake. Pretty hard to miss it."
"But Sensei always drinks Sake. I've never seen him like... like that!"
Raphael goes to the pantry, and yanks out a bottle off the shelf. "Here Genius. It says SAKE right on the label." The annoyed turtle taps a large green finger against the glass, hard enough to break it.
Don's eye ridges knit together as he takes the bottle and studies it. "Hm," he mutters thoughtfully to himself. "Raph. Where did you get this?"
"From da store, where else," Raph answers impatiently.
"But, Raph. That isn't what he usually drinks," Don argues.
Raphael shrugs. "Well... Leo is the one that always buys this stuff. The store was out, so I went down the street to some private salesman. Sake is Sake, ain't it?" he argues in self defense. "He said it was his most popular seller."
Curiously, Don lifts the bottle to his face and sniffs. He tilts the bottle to his lips and samples the liquid. Immediately he spits it out, scrunching his nose up in distaste.
"Raph! This stuff is not diluted!" Don stresses. "You gave Master Splinter full strength alcohol. And it's warm!"
Raph shrugs once more. "I know it would be better cold, but..."
Don rubs his temples, and closes his eyes. He has a painful expression as he continues, his words slow and tense, the type of voice he saved for explaining something to Mikey one hundred times. "Warm sake travels faster to your brain. "
Raph rolls his eyes and Don sighs. "In other words, " he continues, "He will get drunk much faster. Besides the last step in making Sake is to add water. To dilute the alcohol content."
Raphael snorts. "Don't blame this on me," he shoots back. Grabbing the bottle out of Donatello's hands he places it back on the shelf, slamming the pantry door with a loud crash before storming off in the direction of the practice room, muttering to himself.
Sweeping a piece of hair across my forehead, I cough to remind Don of my presence.
"Ah, Don?" I speak quietly and carefully. I've never seen the mild mannered turtle so furious. "We got to get some food into Splinter. Now."
The purple-banded turtle nods wearily. "I will go get him."
But before he has a chance to leave the kitchen, a commotion sounds at the door.
"Sensei, maybe you should sit down," Leo encourages gently.
"Yeah, Sensei. April brought some chicken. Just for you! Let's eat!"
"Bah! We have no time to eat, my sons. I believe a good run through the city is in order. It is time for patrol, is it not?"
"Sensei, honestly, I think it is okay to miss one night. Let's stay in." Leonardo tries to guide Splinter into the kitchen. The Rat manages to wiggle out of his son's grasp once more and disappears. Leo throws his hands up in the air in defeat.
"Where did he go?" I ask.
Leo shakes his head. "I don't know," he mutters. "This isn't like him at all." Leonardo gives me a torn look.
I suggest finding Splinter before he did some serious damage. However, he finds us first.
"I'm all set to go. How is my disguise?"
I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. Splinter raked his claws through his beard, teasing it and styling it until the silken fur tapers into a wavy V. He found Raphael's sunglasses and black leather coat, Leonardo's fedora. Around his neck is a colorful lei from Michelangelo's collection.
"Master Splinter," Mikey tries to gain composure. "You look like you belong with ZZ Top."
"ZZ Top?" Splinter wonders aloud.
I elbow Michelangelo. "Don't give him any ideas," I whisper.
Without warning, Splinter turns and swaggers towards the garage. He raises his hand in the air, snapping his fingers.
"Let's go, boys. We have lives to save."
The turtles look at each other, unsure what to do.
"Well, we have to keep an eye on him, "Donatello pipes up. He looks at Leonardo helplessly.
The blue banded turtle givesa slight nod. "Well guys," he sighs. "Better move it."
From the garage we can hear the groaning chug of the Battle Shell
"I didn't think Splinter knew how to drive,"I remark.
Leo looks at me worriedly. "He doesn't."
As we dash into the garage in a cloud of dust, and skid to a halt, we can see Splinter, sitting in the driver's seat, trying everything in his power to get the old truck to come alive. Angry muttering fills the air as we peer into the driver's side. The guys wince with every sharp word and I look at them quizzically.
"What's he saying?" I really need to invest in a good English to Japanese dictionary. Or at least find an application for my cell phone.
Donny shakes his head. "Ah, April. You really don't want to know."
Leonardo goes to the Rat's side, trying to coax him out of the truck. Splinter refuses, proclaiming they have a job to do.
"Maybe you should just take him out, guys?" I suggest, feeling at a loss for any other idea. "He won't give in, you know that."
Leo nods. "Yes April. You do have a point."
Before they can convince Splinter into the back seat, Michelangelo calls out, his voice loud and alarmed.
"Guys! We need a bucket!"
Donatello manages to grab a greasy oil pan just as Splinter whimpers, "Hold my fur!" With a trembling hand he holds his beard to the side as he leans out the window. I place a hand over my mouth trying not to gag as I look away, giving the master a shard of dignity. To occupy myself, I fetch a damp face cloth.
"How's he doing?" I inquire as I entered the garage. I look around, everything appears calm and quiet. "Where's Splinter?"
Leo moves, allowing me to look into the driver's side of the van, where Splinter still remains. This time he is slumped over the steering wheel, snoring gently.
"He passed out,"Mikey explains. I go over to the youngest turtle and pat him on the arm.
"It's for the best, Mikey. For all of us." I wink at him.
"B-but what should we do with him? We can't leave him there."
Leonardo reaches up into the cab and gently scoops Splinter up, cradling him in his arms like a child.
"Let's put him in his room and make him that comfortable," he suggests as he carried the drunken rat through the lair.
As Don turns to follow his brother, he turns to me. "Thanks, April. You know. For everything. Sorry you had to bear witness to all this."
I smile at him. "It's okay, Donatello. Honestly. You know I will do anything for you guys. Even, Splinter. I hope he will be okay in the morning. You boys will have to try to be extra quiet."
Don and I look at Mikey in unison.
"What?" the young turtle asks, holding up his hands.
Don goes to his younger brother, herding him out of the room. "Come on, Bro. Let's go and see if Leo needs anything."
Knowing there is no more need for me to stay with them, I say my farewells and go home, shaking my pounding head.
Yes. Knowing the turtles is undoubtedly full of adventure. And I need to learn that some nights, it's worth it to leave my phones off the hook.
~The End~