This one just kinda hit me, and luckily (or not) I had the PC on. I guess it's what comes of getting Disney HD by accident. And being delightfully immature. Go me.
Disclaimer: The film "The Aristocats" isn't mine, and neither are our favourite turtles…yet…
Thud… gasp… thud… gasp… thud…
Raph panted in and out as he lost himself in the fierce rhythm of his punchbag. People may go on about beautiful sunrises and classical music, or whatever the shell else folks liked, but Raph always found that the most soothing thing on earth was the feel of fists on leather.
Thud… gasp… thud… gasp… thud…
His brothers had never really understood why he liked fighting so much. To be honest, he wasn't so sure himself. Perhaps it was the fact that he could fight, and fight well, or perhaps it was the fact that he was sorting out, just a little bit, the wrongness in the world that scumbags like the Purple Dragons caused, or perhaps the sheer freedom of not having to think about what he was doing, or perhaps it was the… music?
"Everybody wants to be a cat…"
Raph whirled around. The voice that was singing could only be Mikey's, so why could he hear instruments playing along?
"Because a cat's the only cat…"
Raph stalked out of the dojo, and gawped at his younger brother.
"Who knows where it's at…"
Mikey was bouncing on the sofa, singing along in time with the music blaring out of the TV. Raph glanced at the screen and was baffled to see several cartoon cats, wearing hats, singing and playing the piano. He could only assume that his brother, and the rest of the world with him, had finally gone bananas.
"Everybody's pickin' up on that feline beat…"
He turned and walked back to the dojo, back to the one thing around here that still made sense.
Thud… gasp… thud… gasp… thud…
"'cause everything else is obsolete…"
TMNTTMNTTMNT
"Now a square with a horn…"
Raph tugged the pillow tighter around his ears, then gave up and threw it at the wall. It had utterly failed at blocking out the sound of Mikey's repetitive singing – the 274th repetition, to be precise, as Mikey had been singing nonstop since the film finished, and no amount of yelling, threatening and pizza deprivation would shut him up. Of course, it hadn't helped that ever since his and Leo's last fight, Splinter had forbidden the turtles to argue with each other, on pain of an hour's extra training.
"Can make you wish you weren't born…"
Raph got up to look for his pillow. It had landed, appropriately enough, in the bin. He picked it up. It was splattered with tomato sauce from a slice of pizza Mikey had left there.
"Ever'time he plays…"
Raph's last shiver of patience snapped. He wrenched his door open and stormed into Mikey's room, too fired up to knock. Come hell, high water, or extra training, he was going to MAKE MIKEY SHUT UP.
"And with a square in the act…"
"MIKEY! I SWEAR, IF YOU DON'T CUT OUT THE STUPID SINGIN' RIGHT NOW, I'M GONNA SHOVE YER HEAD SO FAR DOWN THE TOILET, YER FEET WON'T EVEN SHOW!"
"He can set music back…"
Raph blinked. Mikey had was lying back on his bed, eyes shut and headphones on. From where he was standing, Raph could hear the music blaring out, even louder than how he usually played his own – with all the noise, Mikey hadn't even noticed he was there.
"To the caveman days…"
Raph rolled his eyes, and grabbed the end of Mikey's bed. They'd both listened to the song enough times – now it was time for something new.
"I've heard some corny birds who've tried to sing…"
Raph pulled up sharply on the bed, lifting it until it was almost vertical. With a shriek, Mikey toppled off, his headphones falling off. The iPod rolled under Mikey's bed and sat there, still blaring out music for the two brothers to hear.
"But a cat's the only cat…"
"Raph, whatever you're angry about, it wasn't me." Mikey gabbled, recognizing Raph's danger signs.
"Who knows how to swing…"
"Mikey, you've been singin' that same stupid song for three hours."
"It's not stupid!" Mikey leapt up.
"Who wants to dig…"
"Mikey, it was made like half a century ago, for two-year-olds!"
"It's not for two-year-olds! It's got really mature themes, like erm…
"A long-haired gig…"
Raph folded his arms. "There aren't any, are there?"
"Just gimme a minute! Erm… Um… Maybe…" Mikey's shoulders drooped. "No."
"Or stuff like that…"
"And anyway, it's stupid. It's about a bunch of freakin' talkin' cats. Like, who cares?"
"Who cares? Who cares?" Mikey's jaw dropped. "Dude, cats RULE! They're all cute, and fluffy, and small… And fluffy…"
"Like your brain?"
"Yeah!"
"When everybody wants to be a cat…"
Raph rolled his eyes. "I give up. Guess you'll always be a shell-head." He strode to the door, then turned and gave his brother a glare that could have burnt through solid steel. "But if I hear one more sound outta you, I'll empty Klunk's litter tray in yer bed. Capiche?"
Mikey looked up from the floor, where he was now searching under his bed for his iPod. "Absolutely, Raphie-chan!"
"QUIT CALLIN' ME THAT!" Raph spun on his heel and stalked out. Muttering darkly under his breath, he headed for the dojo, and for his punchbag. "Stupid immature brain-dead dim-witted shell-headed-
"AAAAAAAAAGH!"
A familiar girly scream from behind him made him turn. Mikey had bolted out of his room, and was now standing Donnie's worktable, trembling. Raph chuckled.
"What was it this time?"
Mikey looked down at him, baby blue eyes round and fearful. "Th-th-there's a m-m-MOUSE under my b-bed!" He stammered, scanning the floor around him as if the offending rodent had decided to chase him.
"A MOUSE?"
"Y-yeah, a h-huge one."
"What the-" Raph gawped at his kid brother "Mikey, we were raised by a giant mutated rat. Why are you scared of a little one?"
"'Cause Master Splinter's not c-creepy, and he doesn't have those freaky l-little eyes, and he's not gonna try and bite m-my toes off!"
"It's not gonna try and- Yer a butt-kickin' ninja! And anyway, what kinda stupid mouse is gonna go anywhere near your stinky feet?"
"Hey! They do NOT stink!" Mikey stamped his foot.
"Er, Mikey, I wouldn't-
CRASH!
Mikey sat sprawled on the floor, blinking at the pile of splintered wood and broken machinery that had been Donnie's second-favourite place to work. He looked up at Raph. "Did I do that?"
"Yup."
The two brothers looked up as Donnie burst into the room. "Did I hear-" he said, and stopped, having caught sight of the wreckage of his former desk. Slowly, his chocolate-brown eyes slid from the mound of rubble to Mikey, and back again.
Mikey gulped. "Weren't you saying the other day that you were gonna get a new one soon anyway?"
Raph sat on the sofa to watch.
"Mikey," Don growled, his voice soft and dangerous, "That was the new one." He glanced at the bits of shattered circuitry strewn over the floor. "And that was my only coffee machine."
Mikey screamed and bolted into his room. Raph put his feet up, and wondered about getting some popcorn. No, he decided, better not miss a thing. He counted to ten.
At "three" Mikey shrieked again, and ran out again, having remembered the mouse. With a roar, Donnie began to chase him around the living room, leaping over the furniture.
Raph began to wish he had a video camera on him.
Mikey, leaping over the sofa, screamed to his big brother, "Raphie! HELP!"
"No can do, Mikey-chan."
"Aw come on! At least get rid of the mouse? PLEASE!"
Raph chuckled, and settled into his chair. "You're the cat," he said, "You get rid of it."