For The Sake of It
"You are infuriating," April snapped, pointing a shaking finger in Raph's direction. "Absolutely infuriating. Do you know that?"
Raph rolled his eyes, his arms folded across his chest and a matching scowl plastered across his face.
"No April I had no idea," He replied sarcastically, "why don't you tell me again. Clearly I didn't hear you the first fifty times."
Slamming her open palm down on the table, April leaned forward. Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
"I'm surprised you can hear me at all since you never seem to shut your big mouth long enough to let anyone else get a word in."
Not to be outdone Raph slammed his own hands down on the table, shaking the unstable wooden frame. It creaked dangerously for a moment but held.
"Oh that is rich coming from you." He snarled, baring his teeth. "You think you know everything but, newsflash princess, you don't."
April leaned heavily on the table as she glared down at him
"At least I can have a civilized conversation with someone without insulting them ten times."
Raph let out a harsh bark of laughter.
"Really?" He shot back, his voice rising in volume with every word. "'Cause I've never fucking seen it."
"Can you not be an asshole for once?" hollered April slamming her hands down on the flat wood hard enough to make even the nearby chairs rattle.
Not to be outdone Raph slammed his own fists down. One, twice, three times.
"Me?" He bellowed indignantly, "You're the one who's always freaking out for no damn reason."
Something finally snapped.
Surprisingly it was neither April nor Raph, but instead the table itself. With a last groan the beleaguered wood, tired of the abuse, collapse almost entirely. All that remained was a splintered pile of kindling in the middle of the kitchen floor.
April and Raph watched silently as the last mote of dust drifted through the air to land softly on the pile, before turning back to each other.
"This is all your fault." They shouted, almost completely in unison.
"My fault? You were the one that kept banging on it."
"You weight more than I do. It must have been your fault."
"Did you just call me fat?"
Mikey glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the kitchen door with mistrust. Another loud clatter had him shifting towards Donnie.
"What are they even fighting about?" He wondered, rolling his eyes as yet another string of curses floated past the cloth hanging.
Donnie didn't even bother to look up from his book, seemingly unbothered by the noise. Though to be fair Donnie could probably read his way through a Foot Clan attack.
"I don't think even they know anymore." He snorted, lazily turning a text filled page.
With a sigh Mikey turned back to the TV. There was a Crognard marathon on and there was no way he was going to miss it. Though he did turn the volume up a few notches.
Just to be safe.
