"All right, now," said Splinter. "Let us start again, from the beginning."

Rocky sighed and walked back to his barrel. He sat down and attempted to not look too bored.

April walked in from the study. "Mister Rodriguez?"

Rocky looked up, smiling slightly. "Yeah?"

"I'm April O'Neil." She held out her hand, and Rocky got to his feet and shook it gently. "Won't you come in?" Rocky followed her into the study, sitting down across from her.

"Now, Mister Rodriguez, why don't you tell me why you're applying here at O'Neil Incorporated?"

"Um, I feel like I've got a lot t'offer your company." Rocky stole a glance at Splinter, who nodded in encouragement. He tried to remember everything he was supposed to say. "Um, I'm a hard worker...and I'm reliable...and I'm pretty strong, too."

"Yes, I can see," said April. "I don't see any employment history for the last two years. What's the story there?"

"Well, see, I got freakified awhile back..."

"No, Rocksteady," said Splinter gently. "I would avoid using the word 'freakafied'."

"Well, whaddam I s'posed to say, then?"

"Perhaps use the word 'mutated'."

Rocky rolled his eyes, but turned back to April. "Not long ago, I mutated...into...what...I am now?" he said questioningly, looking over at Splinter. Splinter nodded, and Rocky went on. "So...it's been tough. Trying to get my life back together. I think I'm finally ready to go back to work now."

"Excellent," said Splinter.

"I see. Do you have a list of references?"

"Yeah, right here." He pulled a piece of paper out of a folder, and handed it over, clumisly knocking over a pencil cup while doing so. Frustrated, Rocky slammed his hand down on the table.

"Rocksteady, relax. You must allow for small mistakes to be made," said Splinter.

"But I keep messin' up!"

"Indeed. This is to be expected. Mistakes are always made."

Rocky slumped down on his seat. "Then why bother?"

"Rocky, it is a good idea to aim for perfection, but you must never expect to achieve it." Splinter put his hand on Rocky's shoulder. "It is how you deal with the mistakes, the problems that arise, that will truly show others your worth."

Sighing, Rocky asked, "What's that mean?"

"The true test of a human is not when things go right, but when things go wrong. Consider your life with the Foot. When things were going well, you had no shortage of friends, correct?" Rocky nodded. "But when the Foot began falling apart, when you attempted to...take us out, and failed?"

Rocky snorted. "Ain't nobody talked to us 'cept to boss us around. It was just me 'n' Bebop."

"Exactly. And during difficult times, it was Bebop who stood by you, and helped keep your spirits up." He let Rocky think about that for a second, then went on. "Bebop truly proved himself in the face of adversity. And soon, in your own way, you will be facing adversity, as well. People will judge you based on how you handle this adversity, and this will help them decide if you're worth having as an employee."

A piercing sound cut through Splinter's calm words. April fumbled for her purse and pulled out her cell phone. "Hello?" she asked. "Yeah...well, I'm kinda...in the middle of something....yeah...no, I can be there...sure thing. See ya in a bit." She disconnected the phone and looked up at Rocky and Splinter. "Looks like I've got a story to get on..."

"That's quite all right, April," said Splinter. "Thank you for taking the time to help us." He walked her to the exit. "You will forgive me if I remind you again to keep your eyes and ears open?"

"Of course. I'll tell Casey, too."

Splinter bowed deeply. "I am forever in your debt, Ms O'Neil."

April always felt a bit embarassed when Splinter got so polite. "Look, it's no problem. Say goodbye to the guys for me."

"I will. Farewell." Splinter watched her leave, then turned back to Rocky. "As we were discussing your friend, perhaps this would be an ideal time for you to make your phone call."

Rocky flinched a bit. "Oh, yeah."

Splinter, surprised, said, "You seem...reluctant to call." Rocky shrugged, but Splinter pressed. "Why is that?"

"It's...I dunno. I don't like...getting involved."

"Even though your friend's freedom may be at stake?"

"Oh, I'll do it, it's just...oh, forget it."

"I believe I understand, Rocksteady." Splinter indicated a cell phone, plugged into an outlet on the kitchen counter. "You will need to leave the phone plugged in - it aids the reception immeasurably."

As Rocky picked up the phone, Splinter heard a yell coming from down the tunnel. He immediately hurried to the dojo. He found Donatello down on one knee, his head down in his hands. Leonardo was on his knees, next to him, while Michelangelo and Raphael looked on, somewhat worriedly.

"What has happened, my sons?" asked Splinter.

"I was sparrin' with Don," explained Michelangelo, "and he missed a block. My chuck got him right in the eye."

Leonardo looked up at Splinter with a pained expression. "It's all my fault, sensei. I should've watched them more carefully, told them to be more careful."

Splinter indicated for Leonardo to move out of the way. As Leonardo got up, Splinter smiled at him slightly. "Do not blame yourself, my son." He lowered himself to his knees and moved Donatello's hand so he could examine the injury more closely. Donatello was tearing up quite a bit, and the eye was very red, but Splinter could not see any blood. He let his breath out, not even realizing he had been holding it. "How do you feel, my son?"

"It stings a lot, and my head's still ringing a bit."

"Is your eye still functional?" Splinter covered Donatello's other eye with his hand, and Donatello tried to force his eye open to look.

"It's pretty blurry, but I can see."

"Excellent. Your eye does not appear to have suffered too much injury. It appears your cheek absorbed most of the blow. You will probably have some bruising in that area. It'd be best for you to place ice on it, and rest. Would you prefer to lie down?"

Donatello considered. "No, I think I'm all right."

"Very well. We will consider practice over for the day. Raphael, if you'll fetch the ice pack, please?" Raphael bowed quickly and headed out. "And Michelangelo, please assist Donatello into the kitchen."

Michelangelo walked over, leaned down and put his hand under Donatello's arm. "Dude, I am so sorry."

Donatello managed a quick smile. "Hey, don't sweat it. I can handle it. I'm a ninja, remember?" Michelangelo laughed as he aided Donatello out of the dojo.

Splinter turned to Leonardo, who still had a worried look about him. Smiling, he put his hand gently on Leonardo's arm. "All is well, my son. You must not blame yourself. The only way to completely avoid injury in martial arts training is to not participate." Leonardo smiled back, and Splinter gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Now, would you kindly put the weapons away in here?"

"Of course, sensei." Leonardo bowed, a bit formally as usual, and began picking up the weapons and racks.

Splinter headed back to the kitchen. Michelangelo was rummaging through the kitchen, looking for lunch items. Rocky sat disinterestedly on his barrel next to Donatello, who was holding a package of frozen peas against the side of his face. Splinter asked, "How do you feel, my son?"

"OK." Donatello smiled a bit. "Well, except for having frozen goods on my face."

Splinter smiled and turned to Rocky. "What did Bebop's lawyer tell you?"

Rocky frowned. "Um, she said she was real happy to hear from me. Said I'm his best shot at gettin' 'im off early. They don't got a date set for the hearing yet, but she said she'd call me when they do." He looked a bit sheepish. "Um, I gave her the number of dat cell. Is that OK?"

"Most assuredly. It is in April's name, but we do keep it down here at all times. If you are not here when she phones, we will of course relay the message to you."

Rocky breathed a heavy sigh. "I ain't lookin' forward to it. I...don't like...bein' in front of a lot o' people."

"Because you're a mutant?" asked Donatello.

Shrugging, Rocky said, "Well, yeah, but I weren't crazy 'bout it none before, neither." Smirking, Rocky put his hands behind his head. "Back when I was in school, there was a mix-up in the schedulin' or somethin', and I ended up in debate class. God, I hated that class - standin' in front of everybody, talkin' 'bout stuff I didn't know nuttin' about. I dropped it as quick as I could."

"You went to school?"

"Well, duh!"

Shaking his head, Donatello said, "You're right. Duh. It's just...I've always wanted to go to school." He looked at Rocky, almost wistfully. "You're so lucky - it must have been really fun."

Rocksteady looked at Donatello like he had lost his mind, but before he could say anything, Splinter interrupted. "I am happy you told me about your...reluctance to speak in front of people. It may prove helpful in finding you a job - we will be sure to avoid any job that involves much human interaction. Although I believe that was our goal in any case."

"You really think this is gonna work? Me gettin' a job, I mean?"

"I have faith that we can find you employment. I cannot guarantee that it will be the job you've always wanted to have." Splinter smiled. "If you had any aspirations to be a fashion model, I would abandon those now."

Rocky snorted. "Now you're makin' fun o' me."

"I am merely making light of your predicament," said Splinter. "I often make light of serious situations. It is something we do to help us through the difficult times. I hope you can forgive me for it." He bowed slightly, but Rocky remained somewhat peeved.

"Well, what kinda job ya think I'm gonna get?"

"That I do not know, Rocksteady. We now have a few people making inquiries, and hopefully we will hear something soon. Until then, you can but remain patient. And we should continue working on your interviewing skills."

Rocky grumbled, "Yeah, God knows I need it."

April ran into the Channel 6 offices. "Is Mr Thompson gonna kill me?" she asked Irma, dropping her briefcase to the floor.

"Well, you're kinda late, but since Vern hasn't shown up yet, I doubt anyone will care." Irma handed April her daily mail. "Where've you been?"

"Three guesses."

"Really?" Irma sniffed the air. "I can't tell."

"Thank Febreze," April said, smiling, flipping through her mail. Absently, she asked, "You all settled in your new place yet?"

"God, don't bring that up," said Irma, rolling her eyes. "Most of my life - or what passes for my life - still packed in cardboard boxes. And the move was a nightmare."

"How come?"

"Moving company was slow, with a capital 'slow'. Nice enough guys - a couple o' real hunks. But it took them forever."

April tossed a few unasked-for solicitations in the trash. "You think they were trying to gouge you?"

Reluctantly, Irma said, "Wellll, I don't think so. They said they were really short-handed. They'd had several folks quit on them or something."

"Well, you can't really blame them, I guess." April picked up her briefcase. "I'm going down the hall to grab a bagel - haven't had time for lunch. If Vern comes, let them know I'll be right there, OK?"

"Got it." Irma got back to typing up the press release, but then April unexpectedly came back.

"I'm sorry - you said your moving company was short-handed?"

Irma frowned. "Well, that's what they said."

"What company was it?"

"Roosevelt Moving & Storage. You gonna run a story on them?"

"No, just...checking." April smacked her hand lightly on Irma's desk. "Thanks." She headed back down the hall, and Irma watched her go, confused.