Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own TMNT. Sorry.
Mikey's Adventure
Okay. Five cups of flour, five eggs.. Or wait, was it the other way around? Okay. A gallon of milk, and a little bit of vanilla. Oops, that was a bit too much vanilla. Let's scoop that out.. Darn! There goes the rest of that egg! Here, let's put in two more. Okay.. Now it's too mushy. Another scoop or three of flour should do it. Three sticks of butter. Crud! Just clean that up. Where was I? Oh yes, three more sticks of butter.
Done! Now, time to put on the toppings.
If I remember right, Don said he likes the sauce and cheese MIXED. Raph likes them perfectly separated, with the pepperoni on top. Pepperoni? Oh no, I forgot to get a roll! Oh well. I'm sure some extra salted anchovies will do. Leo likes the yogurt underneath the cheese and in the sauce, that way it doesn't slip off. And I like it in a blender.
I guess I have to make three more pizzas. I don't like yoghurt.
Moldy potato chips are much better for your health. What? Don said so. But, I think that was when I had an unopened can of jellyfish puree halfway in my mouth.
Where did that new can of tomato sauce go? We bought it the other day, and were almost foiled when the shopping cart collapsed. Had to haul it onto the top cupboard so it wouldn't get in the way.. Now, let's see. These are the worst toes! Can't grip the counter. Up we go.. Alright! Now, to get it down without dropping it. Easy does it..
SNICKERDOODLES!
Taking the still spinning lid off my head, the numerous splats of tomato sauce hitting the floor was not an entirely comforting sound. Well, I could still manage.
I attempted to pour whatever was left onto the less-than-flattened dough, but it simply refused to stay put and spilled across the counter. Freeing a band of frozen meatballs from a ziploc bag, I attempted to join them with the already rebellious tomato sauce, when a sudden rumble threw the entire ordeal straight into my face.
Fabulous, fabulous day.
I peeled an overlarge, tumor-like meatball from my neck, hurling it at a nearby cupboard. My eyes widened as the wooden pantries began to shiver, and a cascade of anchovies rushing at me like a domestic tsunami.
Oh, spectacular, spectacular day.
Attempting to wipe the burning delicacies from my eyes, I heard a shocked yell from the doorway. Still mostly blind, I made my way towards the voice, hoping for a bit of assistance. I could tell it was one of the other turtles, though why they came back to bother me while I was assigned dinner duty was beyond me. When no response came, I stretched out my arms and cried out as another salt-covered, pickled fish buried itself in my eye.
Another loud screech met my ears, and the sound of hurried (and occasionally slipping) footsteps took off. I let out a sorrowful cry, when an unlucky meatball gargled me silly. I heard the first voice, which sounded strangely familiar if it hadn't been for the tomato sauce dripping into my ears, calling a ways off. My toes found the doorway, when a squeak frightened me and sent me cascading over the steps.
The ominous mix of slippery anchovies and wheel-like meatballs propelled me across the already slick sewer floor, and crashing off the ledge. Thankfully, my previous gag protected the horrifically smell-some water from penetrating my throat. I grabbed onto the ledge, finally pulling myself onto the walkway. I slumped forward, lying on my back and finally getting the watered down tomato sauce from my eyes.
Three green heads hovered over me, wide eyed to the point that I could use a large word like stunned.
"What?"