Disclaimer:…Jellybeans are good…that's all I need to say…

Chapter Seventeen

Owen looked up and into the old, aged wooden door, of which he was sure lead to certain doom, and hesitated.

He did not want to go in. Not after everything he had already been through.

It seemed that today's events had only led him from one embarrassing situation to the other. One trial after another, it seemed, his pride slowly disintegrating with each passing moment of this dreadful day.

However, it wasn't as if he had always felt that way…

In the beginning, he had found it to be quite "manageable," "nothing he couldn't handle," just another small hill in the road to victory for him.

But now…

He knew better.

A little wiser since that morning, and a little shrewder from past experiences of that very same day, he understood just enough now to see the bigger picture.

Fate was testing him, now more than ever, him taking it upon himself to go about tonight's mission alone. He needed to be strong for that mission, strong and undetectable.

And this, as fate would have it, was his preparation.

Tonight, his limits would be tested and stretched to their extremes, just as they were now.

Almost as an extension of the physical preparations, these…turtles…now prepared mentally, whether they knew it or not. Through them, he learned how to control himself and his emotions in order to achieve his goals…well, in this case…their goals.

So, with those thoughts in mind, he sucked it up, recognizing the challenges now, and rising to meet them.

He would survive both endeavors, today and tonight, if he had a say in it. He would survive and strive, just as he had for centuries.

Besides, he always liked challenges.

However, as he listened to the voices just on the otherside of the door, he couldn't help but be knocked down a notch or two on the ego latter. The voices beyond the door were a little less…assuring…compared to his previous thoughts.

"But are you sure we will need that much dye, Mikey? His hair is white, it shouldn't take that much."

"Relax Cent-Piece…I know what I'm doing."

Silence.

"Mikey, you're basing all of your prior hair experience on a movie…and you didn't even stay to watch all of it!"

"But that doesn't me I don't know what I'm doing!"

Owen sweat dropped, and he knew Centrice did as well. Mike could be quite the character, a handful for anyone that was even in the same room as him.

He all but knew that from experience…

So, naturally, he felt sorry for Centrice, the human girl being forced to bear with Mike's over-activity in order to achieve something remotely constructive…

Owen sighed.

Constructive.

That was what this was.

Conductivity in the sense that, it was helping his cause as well as theirs.

So with that in mind, and with a humble swallowing of his pride, Owen took one more breath of freedom before willingly stepping into the clutches of doom, a.k.a. Michelangelo's makeshift hair station….a.k.a. the bathroom.

And as a result, he was immediately received.

"Owen, where have you been?! You're sooo lucky we didn't start without you!"

Owen went to smile at the turtle's joke, as did Centrice, but with one look at Michelangelo they both realized that he was indeed serious. Both of them immediately stifled their humor, Centrice turning her chuckle into a cough, while Owen just settled for smiting his smile entirely. Meanwhile, Mike watched their antics, a hand on his hip before just giving up. He really didn't find anything funny about this. Owen's hair was serious; this was important business!

Very, very important business that needed his immediate attention!
Therefore, he quickly continued, pushing the ADD part of his mind aside as he turned to the small portion that was left.

And focused on the task at hand…

In that instant his entire demeanor changed at Michelangelo-speed (the warp speed of Michelangelo), his arms raising in emphasis as he spoke his greetings, the grin and pride all but evident in his voice as he addressed the vampire in welcome.

"Welcome to my new kick-ass Salon! I even named it…Mikey's Kick-ass Salon! Step on up, grab a stool, and I'll get to you in a moment!" Mike's voice beamed as he motioned towards the stool. In response, Owen complied without a word, but not before throwing questioning a look at the only human in the room.

She only shook her head in dismissal.

'Don't ask.'

Plopping down and onto the wooden stool, Owen sat and waited, his back to the turtle but his face to the door. Then, and only then did he feel the true obligation to look around, having never actually gotten the chance to soak in his surroundings before hand. But now that he did, he had to admire their dedication.

It seemed that in that little time between their return and now, Mikey and Centrice had seemingly been busy almost completely "remodeling" the bathroom into…well, a "salon," just as Michelangelo had said.
Or at least, that's what it looked like.

Where tile was bare, it now overflowth; where shampoo was lacking, it was now provided. It seemed that everywhere Owen looked, there was some hair product or another inhabiting that space, all of them nicely arranged on every available space in the small bathroom. Nevertheless, although they sat neatly and nicely, they still proved to be overwhelming to Owen. He didn't even know what the majority of those products were, not to mention what they were used for,but there they stood, all neat and ready for him.

They were everywhere…

On the sink, on the counter, and when that was full…on the bathroom floor. Actually, in reality, it seemed that the there were still too many products, the canisters, sprays, and bottles filling the floor as well. And as it seemed, line of hair products also continued beyond his immediate line of vision. So, turning slightly in curiosity, he followed the line…only to find that he would have to turn even more to see the rest…and even more after that to see the rest still, which left him right back where he started,

As he completed a three hundred and sixty degree turn.

He neatly frowned at it all, seemingly growing unhappy at how foolish he must have looked, spinning around on his stool like some overactive two year old.

How demeaning…

However, it seemed that he was the only one to pay witness to his own "silliness," the other beings' attention being elsewhere at the moment, which was good.

A notch less to take away from his ever faltering ego.

Sounds from behind him caught his attention, so he turned, only to realize that it was Michelangelo. With his shell to his vampire of a client and his mouth never ceasing, Mike sang to himself as he prepared the chemicals in hand. However, it was then that Mike suddenly spun, his voice booming in a show of his obvious insanity as he unexpectedly spoke up.

"Secure the patient, nurse!"

Owen started at Mike's sudden speech, gulping lightly when it registered.

'Patient?' His mind squeaked. He really wasn't sure if Mike was joking or not, which ended up just throwing him off even more…

However, his face must have reflected his fretful puzzlement for Centrice's small chuckle soon resonated in the small room as she quickly reassured the now….well, spooked vampire.

"He just wants me to wash your hair, that's all…" She explained, and in response, Owen made a slight "o" before falling silent once again. He felt slightly foolish for his former conclusions, but he kept his displeasure to himself.

With a push off of the adjacent wall, Centrice made her way over to the now tranquil Owen, but not before retrieving a plastic smock from the set of plastic bags that had been neglected to be removed from next to the doorway, mainly because there was no more room to put all of its contents.

Owen sighed as he watched Centrice approach him with the smock, raising an eyebrow in response. This was all very new to him, and as such, he didn't know what to expect. But just like before with Raphael, he knew that the best way to approach this was to not argue over their decisions, which would making everything go smoother in the long run.

Or at least, he hoped it would…

However, with Michelangelo being behind this operation…nothing was guaranteed! Therefore, the most he could do was be passive and hope, hope, for the best.

Sitting as still as he could, Owen let her wrap the plastic shawl over his slim but muscular form, her own small figure stepping around him to fasten the smock closed at the base of his neck.

Now "secure" and nervous, Owen waited, his hands fidgeting lightly with the new plastic that now inhabited his upper body. Why he was so nervous, that was beyond him…however, he didn't get a chance to ponder it, her voice immediately interrupting his thoughts. He looked up then only to realize that Centrice had moved.

Now at the bathtub, she leaned down, seemingly, turning on the water. "Owen, come over here and lean down, we have to wash your hair before we can administer the dye."

Owen hesitated, going into ponder-mode once again with her new request.

Wash his hair?

Well, it did made sense…Obviously, the hair would have to clean for the dye could take effects. Anyone that called themselves smart knew that. But the idea of Centrice washing his hair still made him hesitated nevertheless.

But, with a slight shrug, Owen did as he was told.

He did promise himself he wouldn't argue.

And he always kept his promises.

So with those thoughts in mind, Owen stood from his perch on the stool only to cross the relatively small bathroom to the tub where Centrice stood, but stopped again, growing puzzled as he discovered the newest…setback…to their plans.

"How…exactly…am I supposed to do that?"

He eyed the space around the tub, grown smaller still by the turtle and the girl as they both crowded around it. He knew they probably wouldn't have any trouble if they were in his shoes, their…stoutness…allowing them the ability to dip their heads under the faucet in such a small space. But he would have…difficulties with the task, him being about a foot taller than both of them!

'There is just no way…'

"Lucky" for him, Michelangelo chose that opportunity to come around, actually paying attention to his surroundings for the first time in several minutes. And as such, he immediately came to Owen's "rescue," much to the vampire's undaunted surprise…

"Oh no prob, O'. I'll move!" He stated with a grin, feeling rather noble over his own selflessness. Turning then, Mike scooted past Owen and the cluttered tub before settling down and on top of the only space available that would not interfere with either Owen or Centrice as they moved about.
The empty toilet seat.

Owen watched on as Mike sat on the closed lid, black chemicals in hand. Crossing one leg over the other, Mike continued to stir up the chemicals, seemingly undisturbed over the fact that he was doing this while sitting on the toilet.

Lucky for Mike, Owen was disturbed enough for the both of them.

However, before Owen could comment on any of the "wrongness" that just occurred, he soon found that his voice would have been drowned out by the bath water as Centrice turned on the tub's faucet. After a moment of water-testing, Centrice then grabbed a near by towel and moved the stool, in hopes to accommodate the rather tall vampire.

"Ok, Owen. It's ready."

She motioned for him to get in position, and with a few choice footings, Owen found himself kneeling, rather uncomfortably at that, under the faucet of the bath tub. Nevertheless, he also found the tap water to be rather soothing to his scalp, and for that he was grateful.

Not to hot, and not too cold…

Meanwhile, Centrice looked over Owen's hunched back and into his drenched hair in awe.

Never had she been this close to the vampire…and some how, he still managed to be threatening, even in the submissive positioning.

It was enough to make her hesitate, which seemingly, did not go unnoticed.

She watched as Owen turned under the water just to throw her a look of...uncertainty.

'Is she going to wash my hair, or not?'

He was genuinely confused. And her just, well, standing there didn't help the situation.

'Maybe I'm supposed to wash it myself…'

That wouldn't have been bad, actually, that would have been preferable. However, just as he began to seriously contemplate the thought of washing his hair himself, the thought was screeched to a halt as her fingers entered his hair without warning. And as a result, he bristled…before relaxing.
It looked like she would be washing his hair after all.

But still, this all felt so…awkward.

Behind him he could all but feel her heart beat as her breath literally washed over his neck.

He had never been this close to a human before…

Well, a human he had no intention of drinking from. So it took a strong will power to suppress the growing urges of the creature within, his soul being awakened by the pump of her heart, and at the sweet smell of the blood beneath her skin…

Nevertheless, it was a will power he knew he possessed.

He would not harm her in any way.

In any way…

And besides, she was helping him, as a friend, for a friend. There was no way he could ever let any harm come to her, or to any of his friends…

No way.

Owen's mind trailed off as he gave into the sensations of her hands in his hair, this being the only time in his long, long life that someone other than him actually washed his hair.

And it proved a rather…different experience indeed.

Her ministrations proved soothing as she massaged his scalp with her slim sudsy digits.

Very soothing…

Made him forget about the "urges." It made him forget about everything. It made him relax, feel at peace. And most of all…

It made him sleepy.

Meanwhile, Centrice worked diligently as she leaned rather uncomfortably over the tall vampire.

'Ug.' She thought as her back strained at the awkwardness of it all. 'I'm gonna feel that in the morning…'

Nevertheless, she continued, her weight being distributed onto the tiled wall as she leaned over and almost into the tub, her hands busy in the vampire's hair. Lucky for her Owen was being as cooperative as he was, otherwise she knew this entire thing would have proved, very, very, difficult.

However, that thought soon fled and melted into puzzlement as Owen seemed to relax a little too much under her fingers…

His head went slack in her hands and under the water as it fell lower and lower, sliding slowly to the bottom of the tub.

She frowned.

'What the hell?'

She kind of let her hand relax, not really knowing what he was doing, but giving him the liberty to continue his slope downward…that is, until…

Owen's head hit the bottom of the tub with a 'thunk!'

"Oh Shi-" Was all she could muster as she suddenly pulled Owen up, the rather loud noise startling her from her wondered observation. However, unfortunately for Owen, he too, pulled up with a giant start from the bottom of the tub. The force of them both resulted in him going from one hard surface to the other, the back of his head colliding rather painfully with the faucet above.

"Holy -- !" Owen bit his tongue as a string of profanities flowed through his now throbbing head. He was never one to curse, but even he had to admit that this was good reason to start. Nevertheless, he kept quiet. Besides, it was mostly his fault…

Disconnecting himself from the faucet, he brought his hand up and to the sore spot, before bringing it back down to his face. There was a little blood, but with the sudden lack of pain he assumed what ever it was had already healed over. Meanwhile, both Centrice and Michelangelo were immediately at his side, a slight wave of panic flowing from each of them as they both talked at once.

"Whoa Dude! Are you ok?!"

"Oh my God! Owen, are you alright?"

Owen stood, the water of his hair running into his face as he blinked at them
before growing sheepish under their worried gazes.

How embarrassing…

"Yes, yes I am fine." He reassured them. However, they still did not seem convinced.

"You hit your head pretty hard there. What…exactly…were you doing?"

Centrice's now baffled voice echoed the small bathroom, and with that came Mike's inquisitive stare as well. Clearly, he was wondering the same thing.
But would telling the truth be worse than the act itself? Maybe, but that was something he would just have to live with, broken pride and all.

"I fell asleep." He stated simply, the horribly embarrassing truth coming out in three simple words.

Those words were his undoing.

There was a moment of absolute silence before the room exploded in uncontrollable and relentless laughter. He watched in complete discomfiture and embarrassment as Mike and Centrice seemed to double over, falling all over each other in the process…leaving Owen to watch them in self pity.

'When will this day end?' He asked the heavens in despair.

However, it seemed that Fate still had another trick up her sleeve, adding one more twist to the tale.

For there was soon a knock on the door.

Leonardo knocked cautiously on the door, but that was all.

'No way am I opening this door, no way in hell!'

Nevertheless, despite his determination not to enter the god-forbidden bathroom, he was still worried.

Before, he had just been walking by, making his way from his room to the kitchen for a bite to eat when the sounds from the bathroom all but waxed his curiosity. Well, not the "talking" exactly, he knew people were in there…
It was the "thunk"'s themselves that worried him, as well as the exclamation afterwards by two of the three persons in the room.

It almost sounded as if someone had gotten hurt…

So being the concerned turtle he was, he found himself unable to pass up such a situation, but he would be damned if he found himself in another situation like before…

He shuttered.

'No way in hell…'

Now it was just a matter of checking if everything was alright, without actually entering the bathroom.

And this might prove to be harder than once thought…

"Is everything ok in there?"

With a lack of response, it seemed that his voice was lost to the wood before him. Clearly, he was not heard, the panic turned laughter filled voices continuing un-phased on the other side.

And as a result, he brought up the volume, rapping rather heavily on the door while calling out once again.

"Hey, is everything alright in there?"

That got their attention. Their voices promptly stopped.

"Leo? Yeah, everything's fine! What's up?"

Michelangelo.

And he was hiding something…

But like always, Leo knew better than to fall for it.

"Nothing's up, except for what's going on in there. Are you sure you guys are ok? It sounded as if someone had gotten hurt."

Unknown to Leonardo, Owen went to speak up in response but with a quickness that could only be associated with a ninja, Michelangelo promptly cut Owen off, a green hand over the vampire's mouth, shutting him up immediately.

Also unknown to Leonardo was the glare that promptly followed, trailed by a single 'gulp' and a removal of the invading hand, only after that same turtle promptly and timely remembered what the vampire was capable off.
No, Leonardo missed all of it. In the end, all he heard was silence, an unsettling silence that did nothing to help the situation.

"Hello?"

However, just like before, he was quickly "reassured."

"Leo, we're fine!"

Mike's voice screamed apprehension as he once again, attempted to dismiss Leo's intuitiveness with a statement of reassurance, but just like everything else Michelangelo was trying to achieve at that moment…

It wasn't working.

Nevertheless, Leonardo dismissed it. Besides, whatever it was, he was sure he didn't want to know! So, he let it go.

"Well…" He hesitated. "If something's wrong, you make sure you tell me, ok?"

"Yeah Leo. No worries!"

Leo didn't like how quick Mike was to dismiss the whole thing, but he let it go, heading into the kitchen.

However, as he walked, he couldn't help but reflect on how much everything had changed in the past few days.

Renegade vampires, an ancient society dating back to who know's when, a vampire hero that currently lived in their old storage room…

He shook his head

"What have I gotten us into…"

However, Fate seemed to smile at the question, not used to hearing doubt from the fearless leader of the turtle clan.

But she welcomed it nevertheless.

'Be patient, young Leonardo, you will soon find out. I guarantee it…'

Now washed, dried, and fried, Owen sat on the stool, awaiting what he thought to be complete doom.

But in reality, it was just Michelangelo.

Nevertheless, this was it, he thought. For here on out, he would look totally different, which shouldn't have bothered him, but it did.
But why?

Why did it bother him so much?

His mind seemed to shrug in response.

'It just…does.'

He had never really thought about what his 'look' meant to him, but the more he did, the more he disliked the idea of changing it.

Besides, this was 'him.'

He was Owen, AVTech Bounty Hunter, but then…as such, this needed to be done.

For the good of his kind and human kind alike.

So, pushing his pride aside, as well as his impatience and harsh temper, he awaited the rather large transformation the only way he knew how…

Centrice watched in mild curiosity as Owen suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out…a card? However, that curiosity soon turned into mild fascination. Throwing it suddenly into the air, she watched on in complete awe as it flipped before landing in his right hand. From there, the card was a slight blur to her as Owen maneuvered it between his digits, flipping the silver plastic between each one of his fingers only to have it restart its lap once reaching his thumb.

From there, the card continued its laps around Owen's hand in a form and motion that could only be described as …completely transfixing.

She raised an eyebrow. It was impressive, very impressive…but odd.

'Must be a vampire thing…'

However, another sound soon broke her concentration, ripping her away from Owen's hand to the turtle's hands instead. From the other side of the bathroom, Michelangelo hummed softly to himself, black dye in hand as he finished stirring the chemicals. She should be over there with him, helping to prepare the dye as well, but as it was, just she wasn't in the mood…her grumbling tummy being enough witness to that.

She definitely needed a snack… and she would have gone to get one too, but she just couldn't pull herself away from the rather bizarre scene that seemed to unfold before her.

To say that what she was paying witness to was 'nothing new' would have been the understatement of the year!
An enthusiastic turtle getting ready to do a nervous vampire's hair?

What were the odds?

Owen flipped the IP between his fingers, watching as the silver, bar-coded, card weaved in and out of his digits just to end up at the thumb once again.

He sighed.

Just the movement alone, the feeling of the cool card maneuvering through his hand, was enough to sooth him. Not only enough…

That was all he needed.

All of the apprehension and worry seemed to slip from him, through his fingers, and to the card itself. All he had to focus on was the IP, and he would be alright.

He was a Vampire, a true Vampire; this IP was enough witness to that.

And it also was because of this small piece of plastic that people were depending on him to be the best he could be…

As a bounty hunter, he was also a protector. A protector of the people; vampire, human…and turtle alike. He had a job to do, and like always, that job came first. He almost smiled then, the pride with in him swelling at the thought of his work, but the cold drip of liquid on his scalp made him jump instead, the drip happening so suddenly. He didn't hear Michelangelo come up behind him, but from the drip on his head, and the slight breathing now behind him, Owen could truly say that his makeover had officially begun. From behind him, Mike grinned sheepishly before apologizing as Owen quickly grabbed at his bearings.

"Yeah, Sorry O.' This stuff's pretty cold."

This time, however, Owen just couldn't resist.

The temptation was just too strong…

He rolled his eyes, his quick, sarcastic wit beating him to his own tongue.

"Oh, I didn't notice."

Centrice's giggle was unexpected, but he welcomed it, smiling a bit as she watched him with humored eyes. At least with her, he knew he was in semi-capable hands, even with the madman behind him. She would make sure everything went smoothly, he knew that for sure. So with that thought in mind, he relaxed. He watched her in mind interest as she watched him, or at least, his hair…and frowned.

"Are you sure that's enough dye, Mikey?" She furrowed her brow. "Maybe it's not enough?…"

Centrice watched as Michelangelo administered the mixed dye to Owen's hair….but frowned at its thickness. However, Owen grinned then, as she came to his rescue.

Yes! The Sane One. The practical one!

His hero.

She would make sure nothing went wrong, he was sure of it. Therefore, he knew that as long as she was in the room, everything would be ok…

Meanwhile, Centrice sat back on her haunches, looking over Owen and into the mass of hair Mike was now slopping hair dye into. It had seemed like too much before, but now it seemed like too little, its thickness inhabiting it from spreading as it should. Something seemed off…somehow…

"Mike, maybe you should-"

"Centrice, Please!" He cut her off then, looking her in the face as he continued. "You are talking to a professional here! I know what I'm doing." Michelangelo concluded, his chin was pointed up at the word "professional," but he grinned at her all the same. Meanwhile, and as a result, Centrice ceased instantly, her hands lifted in mock defeat as she backed off.

"OK, ok, Mr. Professional! My bad!" She sputtered, seemingly backing off and settling back into the mode of 'observer,' but soon found herself frowning once again.

Her stomach seemed louder than ever…

'I really am hungry!'

Meanwhile, Owen frowned at Centrice's stand down as well as Michelangelo's stubbornness. The feeling of the thick mess of goop that spread into his hair didn't seem to help the situation much either, the slow, cold, spread working his nerves into a knot.

But he would live.

His only problem now, was Centrice. She didn't seem to be participating as much as he hoped she would…Mainly because it would be her that would bring him through this, whether she knew that or not.
But then he had to wonder…Why was she not taking a more active roll in the ordeal? Why was she just sitting back, leaving the entire thing to the madman-er, turtle, behind him?…

Almost as if on cue, her voice broke into his consciousness, ahs she spoke. However, her words proved dire as they suddenly and instantly filled him with complete dread.

"Well, looks like you have everything under control, Mr. Professional, so I'm going to go get a bite to eat, if you don't mind."

She seemed indifferent, her eyes going from the turtle, to the vampire, and back to the turtle as if in mild decision. Little did she know how big an effect her indifference was truly having on the vampire before her.

Owen's entire being filled with a heavy terror that clawed at his mind and broke down his sprits.

'Oh no…"

Oblivious to his thoughts and change in mental demeanor, she stood and stretched, frowning all the while. Her back was really acting up now, the strain of before seemingly taking its toll. However, she ignored it, having bigger things to worry about as her stomach growled once again.

"So if you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen."
From beyond Owen's line of vision, Michelangelo waved her off.

"Yes, my follower, leave. The Professional has spoken." He concluded, his voice swelling in importance before grinning again and offering her a little wave of reassurance at her hesitation.

Which, still…seemed not to work. From the door way, she looked back uncertainly despite his reassurance, her brows furrowing in complete contemplation. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave those two alone?…Or at least, to leave Michelangelo alone with Owen's hair.

"Are you sure-?"

"Ah, posh!"

He interrupted her then, waving her away as if she was some silly child. "It's just a little dye, how hard can it be?" He grinned then, making sure to throw all of his charm into it.

Who could resist the Michelangelo charm anyways?

In his entire life, he had never met anyone that could resist, and she was no exception...

Centrice released herself from the door frame, her face melting into a smile once again as she looked over the both of them. Fine, if he says he can handle it, then that was good enough for her.

"Well, ok, then. If you say so. I'll be in the kitchen then if you need me."

And with that, she was gone.

Michelangelo sighed then, finally free from her constant watch and care. It wasn't as if he didn't love her, or love being around her. She was practically a sister to him, an overbearing sister, but a sister nonetheless…

But still, it felt nice to have his space, even if it was just for a little while…

Besides, he knew what he was doing.

He looked down and into Owen's crest, the goop gripping unwaveringly in his white hair…or more like, on top of his white hair.

Mike tilted his head.

The dye really didn't seem to be actually taking to the hair…but just sitting aloft, on top of the hair, which left Michelangelo frowning.

It did look kinda weird.

Was it supposed to?

A dreaded thought seeped into his mind as he observed the vampire from above.

'Maybe I do need her help…?'

But just like everything else in Michelangelo's mind, that thought passed just as quickly. He was a ninja turtle, after all, and as such, he had an innate sense of style in butt-kicking as well as fashion!

Thus, he could handle himself, on the streets and on the fashion scene…

He would be fine; he knew he could handle this.
It was just a question of how.

"Hm, where did I put those instructions?"

The sounds of Mike searching through the open box (and when not finding what he was looking for) amongst the hair products in and around the sink, filled the bathroom. But Owen ignored it, his eyes wide.

Under the gap of goop Owen still sat stunned, his eyes still fixated on the door, of which, Centrice had just departed from.

Without her, he knew that the entire thing had just gone straight to hell…
And if Centrice leaving wasn't a clue by itself, Mike's statement sure was.

'The instructions?! This entire time…he wasn't using them?!' His mind screamed in anger, his fury rising before suddenly departing in a wave anguish and then self pity. Gripping the IP in one hand, he allow his head to fall despairingly into the other, only to accidentally have the goop go from his head to his hand, coating it in a mass of black slop.

Never before in his long life has he cried…but at this moment, he felt that this was the closest he could ever come to admitting a tear of despair. Instead, though, the most he could do was offer a simple statement of closure, summing up all of his feelings and thoughts into three simple words…

"I am doomed."

-

Ok, Sorry this chappy took so long, but I also wrote it for Beth's birthday. A belated present is still a present, …right? Come on people! Lol, So for her I made this chapter long, which is still a good reward for all you others that waited for it as well, don't you think? (Patience is a virtue)…yeah right! Alrighty, So in summary…
This chapter is dedicated to a very special girl whose love for TMNT (a.k.a. Leonardo, hehe) consumes her heart and soul. Happy Belated Birthday Beth! R and R all!