Chapter 2 - "Only the necessary, Mikey."
"What kinda crap is she hidin' up here?" Raphael grunted and held up a knitted, yellow oven mitt, one he wasn't really sure what it was supposed to be. He looked at it from a different angle, trying to figure out what he was holding in his hand.
"It's an oven mitt," Don as-a-matter-of-factually pointed out to his brother, from where he went through a few sets of boxes.
"I know it's an oven mitt!" Raph quickly defended himself, glaring at Donatello. "But what's up with these... horns?" he asked, pointing to a couple of black cones that stuck out from the top of the yellow mitten.
"Dude, where's your inner child?" Mike teased as he walked across the attic and up to his brother. "Can't ya see it's a giraffe?" He quickly snatched the mitten from his brother and put it onto his own hand, playing with the giraffe like a puppet.
"Looks more like n' old sock, if ya ask me," the red masked turtle muttered, trying to act as if he wasn't bothered by the fact that he couldn't tell that the spotted mitten was a giraffe.
"Ra-aph!" Mike scolded, putting his other hand over the giraffe's ears. "Not in front of Mr. Gaffy."
"What?" Raph said, crossing his arms on his plastron. "Now ye gonna name the stupid sock?"
Mike shoved up the oven mitt in Raphael's face, flapping with its mouth while turning up his voice a notch, pretending the giraffe was talking. "That's not very nice Mr. Grumpy. You hurt my feelings." He started making sobbing sounds and pretended the giraffe was crying.
Raph, being severely allergic to all talking stuffed animals, viciously clenched his hand around the crying oven mitt, pulling Mr. Gaffy off of Michelangelo's hand.
"Hey!" Mikey quickly sobered up and reached for his new found friend. "Get your own giraffe! That one's mine!"
Raphael snickered as he held the knitted kitchen supply over his little brother's head, keeping him from being able to reach it. "You want it?" he taunted, waving with the giraffe in the air, Mike jumping stubbornly below it.
"Raph, stop it!" Mike whined, his arms flailing above his head. "Give him back!"
Raphael turned to his other two brothers, snickering sadistically. Even Don and Leo couldn't keep themselves from laughing at the sight, but Leo quickly sobered up as his brotherly instincts took over.
"C'mon, Raph," he said, a stern look in his eyes. "Give it back to him."
Raphael decided he had had enough fun with the sock and dropped it onto Mikey's head. It slid off his bald skull and landed on the floor, behind the youngest turtle's shell.
Mike quickly bent down to retrieve it, petting the mitten over its head. "Don't worry Mr. Gaffy," he said, comforting his shocked friend. "I won't let the mean turtle hurt you. What's that?" he asked, lowering his head to the mitten, pretending it was telling him something. He then shot Raph a glance before he turned back to the giraffe, nodding in agreement. "You're right. He's very unattractive."
As Raph quickly fired up at the insult, Mikey sprung across the attic, returning to the chest he had been looking through before his older brother had found the oven mitt. Before returning to searching for hiking equipment, Mike childishly stuck out his tongue at Raph, who for once decided to let it slide.
"Okay, that's enough, Mikey," Leo said, deciding it was his turn to step in. "You won't find any sleeping-bags by doing that. Keep searching the trunk."
"Party pooper," Mike grumpily accused his oldest brother before he pulled the oven mitt over his hand and reached down the chest to look through it.
Leo shared a glance with Donatello before the two of them continued searching through the cardboard boxes. Although it didn't take more than a few seconds for Mike to break the silence - again.
"Hey dudes, look at this!"
When turning back to the youngest turtle, they found Michelangelo holding up an old purple dress in front of his plastron, imagining what it would look like on him. Had it not been for the fact that the purple fabric was dirty and moth-eaten, it might have been a pretty dress. But time hadn't been kind to the piece of clothing he held up in front of him.
"Isn't it beautiful?" the orange masked turtle inquired, flailing with the dusty fabirc.
"Very," Donnie said sarcastically, turning back to the boxes.
"Oh, c'mon," Mikey waved off the comment as if it was nothing but a small insect flying in front of his face. "You're just jealous I found it first." He walked up to a body sized mirror that stood in the corner of the attic, admiring the reflection that was himself. "Who woulda' thought I'd be such a bodacious babe.."
"Please," Don objected and looked up at his brother with a playful look in his eyes. "That's not even your color."
Mike turned to Donatello with an insulted look on his face. "Hey!" he said, pointing at him from across the room. "All colors are my color." He then turned back to the mirror, playing with the skirt of the dress.
"I always feared one of ya would grow up ta be a cross dressa'," Raphael mumbled, his back turned to the others as he searched the crammed shelves that stood against one of the walls.
This quickly crushed the little picture Mike had painted up for himself. He hurriedly went back to the old trunk and put the dress back, as if he hadn't found it in the first place.
Raph grinned to himself, suddenly coming across something he thought might be a tent. "Ey, look at this!" he called, bringing out the rollled up cotton bag for his siblings to see. "I know I'm no girl scout, but this looks a lot like the otha' tent ya found." He pointed to the identical bag that laid on the floor over by Leo and Donnie, along with their backpacks and the three sleeping-bags they had found so far.
"Well, girl scout or not," Don said, walking up to Raphael and grabbing the brown bag from him. "I think you're right."
Raph lit up a little, proud to have found what all of them had been searching for.
Michelangelo quickly noticed this and chuckled from the other side of the room. "Aww, look how proud he is!" He then turned to the mitten on his right hand, pretending it had something important to say. And once again, by masking his voice and sounding like a female cow, the knitted giraffe was talking. "If only we had some sweets to give to Mr. Grumpy."
What had recently resembled somewhat of a smile quickly turned into an angry glare, one Raph sent his youngest brother's way. "Watch it, Mikey. Or I'll shred that stupid sock."
Mike fearfully held onto his friend, afraid Raphael might go through with his threat.
"Focus, shall we?" Leo reminded the two of them, turning back to Donatello as he put the second tent next to the first one. "Okay... so we're missing a sleeping-bag, a map and.. what else?" He turned to Don, in hope that he remembered.
"Uhh..." Donnie took a moment to think. "Fishing-rods!" He victoriously pointed at his brother.
"Right," Leo said, nodding to himself. He then turned back to his other two brothers. "So keep looking. All of it should be up here... somewhere," he silently added to himself, turning back to search the boxes.
Raph went back to searching the shelves, his right hand travelling across all the junk April stored there.
Books... rugs... more books... ancient sneakers... No, make that smelly, ancient sneakers, he quickly corrected his thoughts. But then he found something that could definitely spice up their little camping trip.
"Hey, guys," he said, grabbing the deck of cards he just found. "What about these?" He turned around and showed the treasure to the rest of them, everyone's faces brightening up with a smile.
"Definitely those," Leo approved with a nod, thinking about all the games of solitaire he could play. "But you should probably make sure all the cards are still in there, given everything else we've found up here." His eyes travelled to the pile of 'useless crap' that he and Donatello had created when going through the cardboard boxes.
"Right," Raphael confirmed with a small nod, seating himself on the nearest chair to start sorting out the deck.
All turtles soon returned to their stations, tiredly searching for the equipment that they were still missing. Only, it didn't take long for Michelangelo to interrupt them - yet again.
"Check these out!" he exclaimed, holding a pair of brown boots in his hands. They were tied together by the laces and dangled from his grip. "Pretty neat, huh?" He nodded smilingly, playfully wiggling his eye ridges.
"Only the necessary, Mikey," Leo reminded him, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day.
"What?" Mike shrugged and took off the oven mitt. He sat down on the floor and neatly placed his knitted friend beside him, moving on to untying the laces so he would be able to try on the shoes. "These are necessary. Ya can't go hiking without a pair of hiking boots." He enthusiastically pulled one of the shoes onto his green, two-toed foot.
"When you're a mutated turtle, you can," Don pointed out from across the room.
"How would you know?" Mikey countered, shoving his other foot into the shoe. "You've never gone hiking before." He quickly tied the laces and stood to show his siblings his accomplishment. "Taa-daah!"
"Wow," Raph said sarcastically, staring at his little brother. "He can tie his own shoes an' everythin'..."
"Yeah," Donatello agreed with a nod, a smile curving his lips. "Unfortunately he tied them onto the wrong foot." The three of them started laughing.
Mike's proud grin quickly worn off as he bent down to inspect the matter further, discovering that his braniac brother was in fact right. "Wha-at?" he quickly defended himself as he sat back down to put them onto the right foot. "I've never worn shoes before. So for a first-timer that's still pretty impressive."
"Extremely," Leo said, shaking his head at his little brother's antics. "I still think you should lose the boots."
Mikey looked up from where he sat, tying his shoes. "Well, since you're not working in fashion, even though you might have some fruity qualities," he quickly added, causing an offended Leonardo to drop his jaw. "You're not qualified enough to tell this turtle how to dress." He pointed to himself with his thumb.
Leo stared at his youngest brother, completely speechless. "Okay, first of all," he finally said, having melted the insult. "There's nothing wrong with being homosexual, and second of all.. Fruity? Wh-what do you mean I'm fruity? I'm not fruity!" Leo's hysterical voice went a pitch higher, making it sound squeaky and girly.
Mike winced at the glass-cutting sound his oldest brother was making. "Okay, Mr. Manly," he then said, having recovered from the noise. "Just because you're dressed in blue and play with swords it doesn't make you a man."
Leonardo angrily crossed his arms, waiting for the explanation Mikey was about to deliver.
"For one thing, you don't see Steven Segal crying when he's watching 'The Lion King,' do ya?" Mike wisely pointed out.
"Steven Segal?" Raph repeated with an unimpressed look on his face.
"What?" Mike said, turning to look at him. "He's manly."
"Whatever works for ya.." Raph mumbled, turning back to the cards.
"Why?" Mikey questioned, turning back to Don and Leo. "What's wrong with Steven Segal?"
"You honestly think he's even seen 'The Lion King'?" Donatello asked, raising his eye ridges. "And in Leo's defence, that movie's really sad."
Leo nodded gratefully at his brother, already tearing up at the memory of the Disney film. "It's just... That scene where Simba's trying to wake Mofasa up... I--" the oldest brother then trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.
"It's okay," Donnie said, supportively patting his big brother on his shell. "He forgave himself at the end, remember?"
Leo nodded, sniffing pathetically to himself.
Raphael and Mikey exchanged odd glances, wondering how that weeping wreck could be the same Fearless Leader they followed in battle. Mike then shook his head to clear his mind and turned back to Donatello. "Maybe we should just keep looking for that sleeping-bag," he said, pointing to the trunk he was sitting next to.
"Maybe we should," Don agreed with a big brother-nod.
The three turtles awkwardly went back to searching the attic, while Raphael silently went through the deck for any missing cards.
In the living room April, Splinter, Raphael and Leonardo sat and watched the news. April was filling them in on the guy who delivered the news, giving them the inside scoop on how the guy cheated on his wife on Channel 6's Christmas party last year.
"Apparently," April said, not aware of the fact that all of her male friends had tuned her voice out a long time ago in order to hear the news. "Janine, the woman he cheated with, was transferred to another department when his wife found out about them. Although, from what I've head," she added, gesticulating with her hand. "Scott and his wife are still married. Bet they wouldn't be if they didn't have any kids. You wouldn't think that by just looking at him, would you?" April finally asked, turning to look at Raphael sitting next to her on the L-shaped couch.
"Hmm?" Raph quickly turned to look at her when he realized she was talking to him. "N-no, yer absolutely right."
April suspiciously narrowed her eyes on him, only now realizing none of them had been listening to her Channel 6 gossip. "You weren't listening!" She accusingly slapped him on the arm.
"Sure I was," Raphael insisted, his arms still resting on his chest.
"Oh yeah?" April inquired, rising her eyebrows. "Then what did I say?"
This got Raph thinking. "Err.." He glanced at Leonardo for support. Unfortunately for him, Leo had been ignoring April just like he had, and only shrugged his shoulders in response.
"Well?" April pushed, causing the red masked turtle to look back at her.
"Uhh.." Raph stammered, twisting uncomfortably, noticing his father smiling in the corner of his eye. "Ye were talkin' about... that guy!" he finally got out, pointing to the reporter at the TV.
"Yeah," April confirmed flatly. "And what about him?" She bore her eyes deeper into her turtle friend, who once again turned to Leo for help. "Don't look at, Leo," April immediately peeped, pulling on his arm to get his attention.
"Well he didn't lissen, eitha'," Raphael quickly defended himself.
"None of you listened?" April questioned, her voice rising a little.
The two turtles sheepishly shrugged their shoulders, thinking it wasn't such a big deal.
The young woman grunted and turned to look at the old rat who had been keeping a low profile during the conversation. "What about you, Master Splinter?" she wondered, believing that at least one of her inhabitants still listened to her.
Splinter uncomfortably turned in his seat, his whiskers twitching worriedly.
"Oh forget it," April gave up, crossing her arms and leaning back against the couch, her eyes turned to the television.
The room fell deadly silent, all three mutants exchanging worried glances with each other. Finally, since Raphael sat closest to the upset woman, he carefully lifted his hand and patted her awkwardly on her shoulder.
April only turned to look at him with a murderous glare, causing Raph to stop touching her instantly, sensing it was best to.
The four of them then returned to watching the news, none of them daring to speak. A few minutes later, Donatello hurried past the living room doorway, and barely seconds after that, worrying noises began to take form in the kitchen. It sounded like he was going through the cupboards, which of course caused the owner of the kitchen to shoot up from the couch.
April stressed inside the kitchen to find out what her purple dressed friend was up to, stopping in the doorway to find him crouched by a cabinet, all its objects spread out on to the floor.
"What are you doing?" April asked, causing the turtle to turn and look at her.
"Oh, it's you," he said, as if the female voice could've belonged to someone else. He quickly turned back to the cupboard, peeking inside it. "I'm looking for some bottles."
"Of what?" April wondered, slowly entering the kitchen, being careful not to step on any sauce pans.
"Just empty bottles," Donnie explained, moving on to the next cabinet. "I thought we might need them for tomorrow," he said, adding another set of sauce pans to the mess on the floor. "You know, for water."
"Well, do you have to ruin my kitchen while doing it?" April wondered, almost stumbling over her frying pan. "And also," she added, stopping a couple of feet behind her green friend. "They're in the closet upstairs."
"Oh," Don said, holding a baking plate in his hands. "Well, err.. I promise I'll clean this up," he added, turning to look at her with a sheepish look.
"Uh-huh.." April acknowledged, crossing her arms over her chest.
Donatello quickly moved on to putting everything back in its rightful place, April supervising him from behind. When he was almost done, Michelangelo came strolling inside the kitchen, walking straight up to the larder.
"What are you looking for?" April asked, turning to look at the youngest ninja.
"I'm just packing some essential hiking food," he explained, reaching inside the cabinet for what he came for.
"Those are crackers," Donnie pointed out from the floor.
"Yeah," Mike closed the cabinet and turned to the others. "A must-have-meal for any hiker."
"Right.." Don said, going back to cleaning up after himself.
Mikey ripped into the bag and allowed himself a cracker.
"I thought those were for hiking?" April asked, beginning to think it was just a synonym for 'night snack'.
"It is," Mike insisted, crumbles shooting out of his mouth as he spoke. "I'm just checking if they're still good." With that, the youngest turtle left the kitchen and went back upstairs to his room, where he had been packing his belongings.
April turned around to Don. "I thought that's what the expiration date was for...?"
Donatello, who had finished cleaning up, shrugged in response. Simply letting Mikey be Mikey. He rose to his feet and looked at April. "You said upstairs closet, right?" he asked, just to make sure he had heard right.
"Yeah," April confirmed hastily. "But you know what," she quickly added, afraid of what he might do to the things she kept there, what with how the kitchen turned out when he was looking for something. "I'll get the bottles. You just go watch the news with the others." She turned around to leave when Don's voice stopped her.
"Actually," he said, causing his friend to turn around. "I meant to ask you about a map. You know, of the neighbourhood."
April took a moment to think. "I think I have one," she said, looking back to him. "Although I'm not sure where my dad put it."
"Your dad?" Donnie repeated, a worried look creeping onto his face.
"Yeah, I haven't seen it since the last time we went hiking," April explained, not understanding why her friend looked so upset.
"And when was that exactly?" Donatello asked.
"Oh, I don't know..." April trailed, doing a quick math in her head. "Ninety-three, ninety-four... why?"
"It's that old?" Don outburst, a look of panic plastered on his face. "That's more than ten years ago."
"Yeah, so what's the problem?" April wondered, narrowing her eyes in confusion.
"The problem is that in ten years, this forest has probably changed. I'm not sure we'll be able to find our way with that thing." Donnie tiredly shook his head, thinking it was much too late for any problems to pop up. They were leaving in the morning, and according to April, they would do so with a map from 1993.
"I wouldn't worry about that," April said, waving her arm at the problem. "I don't think there's been any changes up here. Nothing major, at least."
"You sure?" Don questioned, a little relieved.
"Yeah, I don't worry," April insisted, smiling at the worked up turtle. "And if I'm not mistaken, I think my dad put the map in the glove compartment in our old truck."
"That blue, old piece of junk on wheels?"
"It's not junk," April defended the old truck. "I had my first driving lessons in that truck," she said, thinking back to the summers when her dad had let her and her brother start driving the truck. Of course, it had only been on the field behind the house. But still, it was a pretty powerful experience for a ten year-old.
"I'm surprised you're still alive," Donatello teased, causing April to slap him playfully on the arm. "What? I've seen you drive. And that old thing doesn't even have any seat belts."
"Ha. Ha," April said, obviusly not amused. "I drove you out here, didn't I?"
"Barely," Donnie said, avoiding another slap.
"Just go get the map," April said, walking out of the kitchen. "There's a flashlight in the broom cupboard," she called over her shoulder as she went up the stairs to look for the water bottles.
Donatello nodded to himself and went over to the cupboard to get the flashlight.
Raphael enjoyed some late night 'Jackass'. When the news ended, he and Leo teamed up to be able to receive 'MTV' on the old farmhouse TV. Luckily, a little punching it worked just great, and the two of them were able to kick back on the couch, Splinter hiding behind a newspaper.
"Raphael?" April said as she peeked through the doorway, causing the people of the room to look up at her.
"Yeah?" the turtle in question answered, looking up from the couch.
"Could you help me with something?"
"Depends on what it is," Raph replied the obviously.
"I have to move some things out of the closet, or I won't be able to reach the water bottles you need for tomorrow," April explained, knowing that if she made it clear she was doing it for them, the teenager wouldn't be able to turn her down.
"Fine," Raph grunted, using his arms to rise from the couch. He tiredly followed the reporter up the stairs and down the hall to the closet she had been talking about. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets as April opened the door to the small closet, revealing all the things she had crammed inside it.
Through the dark night wandered a turtle, his weak flashlight flickering on and off. He considered going back inside for some new batteries but figured he had to turn the kitchen upside down again to find them. So he silently walked up the old shed, pushing the squeaky door open.
He peered inside for the infamous truck, but saw nothing but pitch-black darkness. Don pointed the flashlight into the shed, hitting it few times to get the light working, and for a split second he noticed the blue, old truck parked at the far end of the shed, only to have the flashlight die on him right afterwards.
Donnie sighed and went through the door, his bare feet stepping on old chip that was spread across the ground. While making his way across the shed, Don thought he heard something on his right. He quickly turned around, armed with the dead flashlight. He hit it across the handle a couple of times, causing the weak light to turn on. But when aiming the light at the spot where he had heard the noise, he saw nothing but a couple of rusty scythes hanging on the wooden wall.
Don shuddered a little while telling himself it was probably just a rat he had heard. So, with his flash light flickering a few times before going dead again, he continued his path towards the old truck.
After taking a few steps, a noise on his left side caught his attention.
Donnie froze for a moment, trying to punch some life into his flashlight. After a few seconds of hitting it, the faint light kicked back on and he quickly pointed it to where he had heard the noise - only to find nothing but an old tool shelf placed against the wall. He tried to come up with a scientific explanation for what just happened, refusing to believe it was something as ridiculous as a ghost.
Mikey believed in ghosts, not him. He believed in sense and reason.
After the flashlight in his hand died once again, Donnie kept walking towards the truck, this time walking a little faster than before, in case there would be another sound. The moment he reached the truck he pulled the passenger door open, blindly searching for the glove compartment. He quickly found it and opened it, his breathing a little strained as he rummaged through it for anything that might feel like a map. After a few frantic seconds of searching and still not finding the map, Don took the hand he held the open door with and smacked it over the flashlight, willing some power into the drained batteries.
To his relief a weak light did come on and the turtle quickly pointed it to the glove compartment, moving the flashlight to his left grip to be able to search with his right hand. He soon found the old map - folded together not so nicely - and shakily grabbed onto it. He pulled himself out of the truck and slammed the door shut.
In doing so, a number of noises filled the dark shed, this time coming from all around him.
Don frantically hit the flashlight, trying to tap into its last few seconds of light. But when punching the object for what seemed like an eternity and the whisking noises around him only grew stronger, Donnie decided to take the advice of his drumming heart and ran for the exit.
Completely hysteric, Donatello sprinted across the shed, his feet kicking up the chip on the ground as he rushed for the small source of light coming from the partly open door. Suddenly, a stinging sensation in his foot caused him to scream in fear, limping the last few feet between himself and the door, tons of bats swarming around him.
Raphael tiredly put down the old table to the floor, angrily turning around once he heard April's perky voice from inside the closet.
"Here's another one," she called, holding out an identical table to the hideous one he had just moved.
Raph grunted and walked up to his friend, grabbing the table while trying to twist it to be able to get it out of the ridiculously small closet. "Y'know," he said, the corners of the small wooden table digging into his palms. "Ya might wanna think about cleanin' this closet." He gave the table one final pull to get it out, stepping up to the huge pile of junk they had gotten out so far.
"I've thought about it a couple of times," April spoke from inside the closet, while Raphael set the small table down on top of the other one. "But I figured I barely use it anyway, so..." She turned around with a pink beanbag in her arms, holding it up for Raph to take.
The red masked turtle grumbled and walked back to the closet to fetch the ugly beanbag, April shoving it into his face once he did. "Well," he mumbled, his face smothered behind the piece of furniture. "Ya might wanna consider it, in case ya might need those bottles again.." He stumbled over to the giant pile and dropped the beanbag, a frustrated shiver running through his body.
"Naaah," April shrugged from inside the closet, unable to see the angry look on Raph's face. "I can always ask for your help in case I need anything in this closet."
"Right.." Raphael growled, walking up to the open door.
"Okay," April said, stepping out from the closet with a globe of the earth in her embrace. "I've looked through all the shelves and... they're not there," she finished, putting the globe aside.
"You sure?" Raph asked angrily, pressing himself past her to be able to check the closet himself.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," April replied, looking at him as he squeezed himself inside the teensy tiny space.
"Whadda they look like?" Raph asked, unable to so much as turn around once inside.
"They're in a bag," April answered, trying to smother her urge to laugh. Although it was very hard, for she had never seen a giant turtle squeezed inside such a small closet before. "A plastic bag, I think it's yellow," she added, putting her hand over her mouth.
Raph's eyes searched she shelves for something of that description, not being able to do much but just that - look. "Wait," he suddenly lit up, detecting something yellow on top of one of the shelves. "I think I found somethin'."
"Yeah?" April questioned, using all her strength to keep herself from bursting out laughing.
Raphael grunted as he tried to move himself in order to be able to reach his arm in that direction, his shell scraping against the edge of the door, that out of the two ways to open, opened inwards; robbing the shrunken room on even more space.
Another movement caused a few of the things on the shelf to crash down onto Raph, burying him in everything from curtains to old LP's that no one listened to anymore.
April froze at the sound, waiting for Raph to start cussing and cursing. Although to her great surprise, all she heard was a long extended hiss, the sound completely wheezing out between his teeth.
"Are you okay?" she asked, hoping it was safe to speak.
"Damn junk ambushed me!" Raph outburst, trying to squeeze himself past the door to be able to get out. Once safely out of the closet, he noticed the amused look on April's face. "Ye betta' not start laughin'," he angrily advised, pushing himself past her to get as far away from the cursed closet as possible.
"I'm sorry," April apologized giggling, causing the tempered turtle to send her one of his infamous glares. April quickly excused herself by looking inside the closet, pretending to be searching for the bottles. "Wait," she suddenly said, bending down to pick something up.
"Ya found 'em?" Raph questioned, perking up a little.
"No," April said and rose to her feet. "But I found these." She turned around with a heap of yellow clothes in her embrace. When unfolding one of them, Raph realized they were raincoats. "There's four of them," April said, looking through them. "Isn't that perfect?"
"What?" Raph asked pessimistically. "Yer expectin' me ta put that on?"
April looked up at him with a surprised expression. "What?" she asked, looking at the raincoats again. "What's wrong with these? You'll need them."
"Yeah, that may be true," Raph said, crossing his arms and glaring at the yellow rubber coats. "But I still ain't wearin' 'em."
"Oh, c'mom, Raph," April insisted, holding up a coat for him to take. "It's not like anybody'll see you out there. Just try it on."
"Fergit it," Raphael refused, taking a step back. "There's no way in hell I'm about to put on a shiny, yellow coat."
"Fine," April said, retracting the coat. "Suit yourself. I'll give these to your brothers, then. So at least they won't get sick in the rain."
"It's not even rainin'," Raph smartly pointed out, not about to let her trick him into wearing that.
"Well - now - yeah," April said, rolling her eyes. "But you know, the weather has this uncanny ability to change."
"We've been here over a week and there's been nothin' but sun," Raphael reminded her.
"Fine," April said, tossing one of the coats back inside the closet. "I won't force you. I'm just saying--'"
"I ain't wearin' it," Raph interrupted her, knowing how she was going to finish that sentence.
"Okay," April surrendered, putting the coats aside. "Although we still have to find those bottles." She walked past him and lifted the beanbag to put it back inside the closet.
"But ye don't even know where they're at," Raph said, grabbing one of the tables and walking after his friend.
"No, I know where they are," April corrected him, while pushing the big, pink furniture through the doorway. "It's just I thought they'd be in here." She stepped aside to allow Raph to put back the table.
"So where are they, then?" Raph asked, once again trying to hold the table in the proper angle so it would go through the door.
"The closet downstairs," April said simply, causing the temperature in the hall to drop below freezing point.