"Aw, no-oo-o-o," Michelangelo's shrill wail reverberated throughout the sewer.

His three brothers bolted into the living room, weapons drawn.

Holding his katanas crossed in front of him, Leonardo's eyes darted around the empty room. "What's wrong, Mikey?"

He was surprised to find the youngest brother resting comfortably on the lumpy beanbag, Donatello's laptop precariously perched on his upper thighs. Michelangelo dramatically covered his eyes with one hand while pointing accusingly at the bright screen. "Flames!"

Raphael peered at the screen and crinkled his snout. "I don't see any fire or smoke."

Donatello shoved his red banded brother out of the way in a panic. "Mikey, what did you do to my computer? Did you break it?" His eyes scanned the machine.

"D, it's worse than that!"

Donatello dove for the device before his brother's reckless thrashing could knock it to the floor. "Be careful!" he admonished, setting it gently beside them.

"My sons, what is all of this commotion?" Four sets of eyes turned as their father gracefully entered the room.

"I'm not sure, Sensei," Leonardo shook his head in befuddlement.

"It's horrible, it's terrible, it's the worse thing ever!" Michelangelo moaned, cringing from the computer's angry glare.

Raphael responded by thunking his brother on the side of his head. "Will ya quit being so melodramatic and just tell us what's wrong?"

Michelangelo became eerily quiet as piercing eyes narrowed at his brother. "Dude, did you just hit me?"

Raphael lifted up his thick closed fist and aimed it above the sea-foam dome. "Yeah, and I'm about to do it again unless you quit yer cryin' and tell us why we're all here!"

"Yame!" At Splinter's stern tone, the turtles sheathed their weapons and straightened their posture.

Donatello carefully turned the equipment in his hands, inspecting for any damage. "I can't see anything wrong with this."

"Then you're not looking close enough!" Kicking feet tantrumed on the floor.

Donatello wrinkled his snout in confusion. "The screen appears to be functioning… Did you spill orange soda on the keys again?"

"The screen is not all fine - look at what it says!" His lower lip pouted.

"Give it here." Raphael snatched the computer from the olive turtle. "All I see is some lamebrain's fan fiction review page." Realization slowly dawned on his face. "Wait. Is this your page? Did you write a story and call us in to read your reviews?" Anger was inflating the known hot-head.

"I can't believe someone would write something so mean. I worked really hard on it. I even had Donnie proofread it."

Raphael's eyes widened incredulously as he gaped at his brother. "You supported this?!" He thrusted the machine back at him.

"Well, I, er …" Donatello nervously stammered under his brother's harsh stare, fumbling with the laptop before setting it on the couch.

"I think it's kind of cool, Mikey." Leonardo smiled, trying to be supportive. "What's it about?"

"Super Robo Mecha Force Five. There was a mondo battle between the team and the Hydra Beast. Captain Coolstar had the flu and the Princess was mad at Dr. Blip for not noticing her new hair-style, so Squeakums had to take control of the mission, 'cause we all know he's the secret genius of the group, and..." A single jade finger silenced him.

"That sounds … interesting." Leonardo try to keep his voice upbeat and positive, but his lack of enthusiasm peeked through. "So, why are you so upset?"

"Look at that review! It's in all CAPS! This dude said my story is terrible and unrealistic!" Tears threatened to spill out of the corner of bright blue eyes.

Donatello tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his mouth. "You know, I could trace his IP address. Then we could show up at his house and teach him a lesson."

"Ha, ha, now you're speaking my language," Raphael winked. "That's something I could support."

"Donatello! You will do NO such thing." Splinter's sharp tone had his son flinching.

"No, of course not, Sensei. I was only joking." Rushed words tumbled from embarrassed lips. He hung his head momentarily in shame for upsetting his father before snapping his fingers. "Wait - there's a song that goes with this…" Heading toward the entertainment corner, he flipped through the dusty record collection nestled in the cracked white crate, nimble fingers deftly searching. "Got it!" He triumphantly held the frayed corner of an album. "Garden Party."

"Um, D, there are no gardens in space, duh." The youngest turtle rolled his eyes at his smartest brother's perceived ignorance.

"No, Mikey, it's a 1972 song written by Ricky Nelson. The main lyrical point is "You can't please every one, so you've got to please yourself".

Baby blues enlarged before announcing in a too loud whisper, "Really, Donnie… I don't think it's appropriate to talk about that in front of Master Splinter."

Donatello blushed furiously. "That's not what it means!"

Splinter ignored his modest son's bright pink cheeks and cleared his throat. "My son, did you put your best effort into this story?"

"Yes, Sensei." Dipping his head in a slight bow, he was unsure of where his father was going. Would he approve of this hobby or find it a childish waste of time?

"Are you proud of your work?" Splinter pressed.

"Yes, Sensei." The light green terrapin nodded more forcefully.

"Then perhaps that should be your focus. Do not let other's perceptions of you cloud your own self judgment."

"Plus, look at all the people who actually liked your crummy story," Raphael chimed in with a smug smirk, nudging his brother's shoulder.

Michelangelo beamed. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Thanks, Sensei. Raph."

"Yeah, Little Bro, I guess if this sort of thing makes you happy, go for it. I think that's what Don meant over there." He jerked a kelly green thumb in the reserved inventor's direction.

"Michelangelo, I am glad to see you are again at peace." Smiling at the enthusiastic freckled face, he continued, "Remember, the best revenge could show its way in a well written story." Splinter placed a tender hand on his most combative child's shoulder. "It is getting late, my sons. There is early practice that shall not be neglected. I believe it is time we should all go to bed."

Raphael stretched his hands above his head, exaggerating a yawn. "Don't have to tell me twice."

Splinter gently laid his hand on his olive-colored son before he could leave for his desired destination. "I believe your bedroom is in that direction. This way leads to the lab. Why do you not try for a decent sleep tonight?"

Donatello's rosy cheeks knew he had been caught. "Hai, Sensei."

"Michelangelo, straighten up this mess and then head straight for bed." Their furred teacher left with a sharp nod.

Leonardo lingered behind, straightening the worn blue cushions, trying to appear nonchalant. "So… there's a whole website dedicated to made up stories based on t.v. shows?"

"Uh-huh." After fluffing the bean bag, he gathered his tattered blanket and empty popcorn bowl.

"Fascinating." He tried to sound disinterested, but eagerness was creeping into his voice. "Do they have anything on say, Space Heroes?"

The outgoing crystal blue eyes twinkled. "You know it!" Abandoning the items in his hand, he retrieved the forgotten computer. With a quick tap of a few keys, Michelangelo handed over the laptop, grinning widely. "Enjoy, bro!"

Leonardo's sapphire eyes went wide as he settled onto the couch. "201,287 stories!"

Michelangelo chuckled to himself as he headed toward his bedroom. "Have fun, Leo."

Leonardo's eyes scanned the screen in awe before selecting a story.

"Captain Ryan fixed his eyes upon the luscious Space Vixen… Woah… What a guy …"