Author's Notes: Hey guys! Well, this is my third contribution to the Ninja Turtles fandom and I'd like to point out that tis one is very different. I tried to write in the style of Douglas Adams, because I love his books, so you'll notice that the turtles are a bit OOC. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The author of this story is currently quite delirious and so believes that she does own everything in this story. This, however, is not the case and TMNT are copyright of Mirage Studios, Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged, the Babel fish, the Ravenous Buglatter Beast of Traal and possibly even the entire style of writing belong to Douglas Adams. The only thing the author owns is the small fruit fly on Calgbeta 7.

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You can only do so much…

Donatello sighed. There really was no need to sigh, but he went ahead and did it anyway. Sitting in front of the brainy turtle was a once assembled television. Now however, it appeared to resemble a television which had been kicked, had a sai thrown through it, dented with a flying shell, and kicked again, which, of course it had. The events that had resulted in said television had occurred because of an argument over the best weapon. In Donatello's opinion the best kind of weapon was one that wasn't used to destroy television sets, but, as usual, Raphael tried to prove him wrong, which leaves us in Donatello's lab with a still broken television set.

Donatello pulled out a small screwdriver from the third drawer on the right and went to work on taking the casing off the television. There are many different kinds of screwdrivers, but luckily Donatello knew exactly which one to use, partially the result of having to fix this particular television eighteen times previously. After 44 minutes, 11 seconds and 16 milliseconds all that remained was to find a new glass-front, so he pushed it to one side and after stretching, left his room to find his irresponsible brothers and deliberately avoid talking or even noticing them.

Donatello succeeded in his task and was shortly called into ninjitsu practice. The purpose of ninjitsu, you see, is to learn how to kick, punch, leap and dodge in a very talented way so that you can defeat your opponent. The challenge, however, is that when one goes up against another ninja who has also been taught how to kick, punch, leap and dodge in a very talented way to defeat their opponent. There-foe, one must be better at kicking, punching, leaping and dodging then the their opponent. In fact the best ninjas are so talented that they do not even need to think about when they are going to kick, punch, leap and dodge, instead doing it without realising. It is the only sport on Earth where the dream of every young student is to be so good at their sport that they don't know what they're doing. In the worst case scenario during a fight, the best option to the student is to run into the shadows and repeat the mantra 'They can't see me, they can't see me,' while scrunching one's eyes shut in hope that their opponent, much like the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal will assume that if you can't see it it can't see you. However it should be noted that it is not, in fact, a good idea for your enemy to be similar to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal because of the severe danger and smell.

After several katas (a series of different kicks, punches, leaps and dodges) the four students bowed to their master before exiting the dojo once again. They slumped into seats in the kitchen; a round of well-deserved drinks passed from one to the next before any conversation began.

"So…" Michelangelo began, a deceivingly innocent look on his face, "how's the TV Don?" He drew the sentence out, as though he was waiting for a bomb to explode when it finished. Donatello looked towards him before letting out another pointless sigh.

"It needs a new screen," he said sipping his glass of orange juice. "The rest is fine." He gave an accusing glance towards Raph and Mikey, "for the meantime anyway…" Raph and Mikey shared sheepish grins at their pacifistic brother's comment. "I hardly think that a discussion over which weapon is the most effective for destroying televisions needs to be tested so promptly."

"Well ya' know…" Raphael said, his Brooklyn accent clear in the gruff tone, "if that television was a little more durable-" his normally calm brother slammed his now empty glass down on the oak tabletop.

"Oh, so that then it'll be OKAY for you to throw your sais at it?!" Not bothering to dispose of the glass Donatello stomped about halfway back to his lab before his feet started hurting, then proceeded to decide that walking in an angry way was just as effective and did so.

Meanwhile Leonardo gave an 'it's your fault not mine' shrug to his two younger brothers before also leaving the kitchen. Instead of leaving with angry stomps as his brother had already done he instead walked normally, while noting that it was not nearly as entertaining or pronounced as skipping or Irish step-dancing.

Quite rudely the alarm siren began to go off. The alarm had, of course, not asked for permission to go off, but had rather taken it upon itself to begin it's procedure of 'beep beep beeping'. Covering their ears, or where their ears would be if they had any, Raphael and Michelangelo walked to Donatello's computer terminal to find out what had caused the rude and unexpected beeping, preferably stopping the noise, with or without force (although Raphael was particularly leaning towards the use of force).

Leonardo turned on his heel from where had been walking towards the dojo and, like his brothers, redirected himself towards Donatello's work space. Already there (as he had a head-start on all his brothers because he was there to begin with), Donatello hurriedly ran through the different cameras, finally settling on one displaying a tall, slender being in a silvery-white costume stepping out of what appeared to be a very stylish and graceful spaceship. The being checked something on its clipboard before stepping into the sewage, wrinkling its nose in disgust, realising that wrinkling its nose in disgust didn't get rid of the smell and finally clamping two fingers over it's nose so he could no longer smell the rank sewage. Much to the turtles surprise the being headed straight for their home and sure enough there was a loud rapping from their front door.

"Hello?" A muffled and slightly agitated voice sounded from the other end of the lair. The four turtles looked to each other, unsure as what to do. "I said hello!" The voice sounded from behind the door, clearly agitated and stressed. "Will you get the fuck out here already!" he screamed. Finally the foursome stood up and inched towards the door, acting as if it was about to explode-which considering their track record wasn't unlikely- drawing their weapons as they went.

Counting to three using his fingers the turtles prepared to open the door at Leo's count. Why Leo was the only one who seemed to be capable of counting however seemed to be quite strange, though considering they were giant mutated turtles they often considered everything else strange and themselves normal. On cue the door began to swing open and upwards to once again reveal the tall, slender being in a silvery-white costume that had stepped out of the very stylish and graceful spaceship. The being looked around at the four turtles with a rather bored and irritated look on his face.

"Donatello," he said in his pinched and sharp voice towards the turtle in question. All the turtles eyes widened slightly in response to this, although it was a rather silly thing to do as there was nothing else they could see by opening their eyes wider. He was a rather fussy alien, they surmised, judging by his disgust at the current state of his silver-white spacesuit.

"Yes…" Donatello said worriedly, finding it strange that this being knew his name. Usually it is rather normal for many people you don't know to recognize you- annoying colleagues from work, Indian salesmen, police officers suspecting you of a crime, but as Donatello had access to none of these things he remained a very worried turtle. The being looked down at its clipboard momentarily before turning back towards the him turtle.

"You're an asshole," the being snapped, quick and spiteful. "A complete and utter asshole." The brothers turned to each other, unsure as to how to respond to this (apart from Raphael who had wanted to beat the strange man to a pulp since he had arrived and before he had even known who he was), but it was too late. While the four had been gawking at each other like Babel fish the tall, slender being in a silver-white spacesuit had left the room and Earth in the very stylish and graceful spaceship.

"Well then…" Leo started, completely at a loss as to what they should do. Sure they'd been introduced to aliens before, but they'd never insulted them, at least… not straight away. Completely lost the turtles returned to their actually strange but what they considered normal lifestyle soon forgetting all about the strange being.

Meanwhile

While the turtles did not know this, the strange, tall, slender being in a silver-white spacesuit had actually been the immortal man known as Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged; the only alien to ever become immortal. This is, of course, in contrast very different to all the other immortals who were born that way and whom he considers "a bunch of serene bastards". Wowbagger never handled his immortality well and so had come up with a life's ambition; he was going to insult every being in the galaxy, in alphabetical order. The being reclined in his specially designed 'immortalitus confusus' chair and ticked off another name on the ridiculously long list. Next stop; Calgbeta 7, where there was a small fruit fly to be insulted.

And they wondered why he was angry all the time.

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Author's Notes: There you go, hours of randomness all crammed together into one 'wth' sized package. Enjoy and please review.