"The office will be contacting you tomorrow about submitting a claim." Hank, the foreman of the team, touched a finger to his cap. "Thanks a lot, and enjoy your new home."

As the door closed, the movers headed back to their vehicles, idly chatting among themselves. Rocky walked a bit faster, as usual, and got to the van first. Suddenly, to the surprise of everyone, he loudly slammed his forehead against the corner of the van. To their greater surprise, he didn't leave a mark on the van or his forehead.

"God, I am such a klutz," he moaned.

The other movers looked at each other uncomfortably. None of them had gotten to know Rocky all that well, and no one really knew what to say. Finally, Jim said, "Hey, man, relax."

Rocky turned his back to the van, leaned against it, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "I shoulda seen that vase. Felipe's gonna kill me."

Jim grinned at the thought of Felipe, who weighed about one twenty soaking wet, attempting to kill Rocky. "Nah, he ain't gonna kill ya. This stuff happens."

"Yeah," added Mick. "You been working here - what? Four months? And you ain't broken anywhere near as much stuff as Danny." Danny took a punch at Mick, who jumped out of the way, smiling.

"Don't worry 'bout it," agreed Hank. "It's a small thing. They'll submit a claim, and insurance will pay for it. Just be more careful next time, K?"

Rocky nodded glumly, then walked over to the pick-up. No vehicle was really big enough to seat him comfortably, so Rocky had taken to riding to and from moving assignments in the back of Hank's pick-up. If there were no seats left in the vans or the pick-up cab, any extra movers would end up in the back with Rocky, none of whom looked as if they really enjoyed it. Rocky wasn't sure if it was because they didn't like riding back there with him, or because they didn't like riding back there at all. Splinter told him not to obsess about it.

After climbing into the pick-up bed, he saw Jim about to get in with him. Rocky smiled slightly - he liked Jim, even if they weren't really friends or anything. Rocky held out his hand to help Jim in, and they sat down with their backs against the cab. Hank began the drive back toward the city. Jim watched as passers-by stared and pointed at Rocky, who kept his eyes down. God, he thought, being a mutant must suck big time.

When they hit the next red light, and it was a bit quieter, Jim said, "Hey, you busy tonight?"

Rocky looked at Jim. He couldn't remember ever being busy any night. "Huh-uh," he muttered, looking back down at his hands in his lap.

"Well, y'know, the Giants are playing tonight, and a bunch of my friends 'n' me were gonna meet up at Ocelot's 'n' watch the game." Jim took a breath and thought, well, no backing out now. "Ya wanna join us?"

The truck had taken off again, and Rocky couldn't be sure he heard what he thought he heard. "What?"

"Did you wanna join us?" repeated Jim, somewhat louder.

Rocky mulled the idea over. He hadn't been anywhere but work and the lair...geez, forever. It'd be great to get out for once. Plus, he hadn't seen a TV, let alone a football game, in eons. But the thought of going out in public unnerved him. When he was at work, he sort of had a built-in security blanket - he was there to do a job, after all - but just hanging out seemed different. And as much as Splinter told him to ignore the stares, and not listen to the whispered comments, he couldn't help it.

"Um," he finally said. "I dunno. I...gotta check on some stuff..."

"That's cool," said Jim, somewhat relieved. "Game starts at nine, but we were gonna be there around eight, have dinner 'n' all that. If you've got the time, stop by, 'K?"

"Yeah," said Rocky, still pondering. "Yeah, OK."

"You know where Ocelot's is?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. That's just down the street."

The pickup pulled over to the side of the street, next to the alleyway. Rocky had told his co-workers that it was "easier" for him to get into his home through the alleyway, but of course, he hadn't gone into detail.

Rocky climbed out of the pick-up, and Jim said, "Eight o'clock."

"'K. Got it." The pick-up began pulling away before Rocky remembered his manners. "Uh, thanks!" he shouted after Jim, who waved back at him. Rocky then hurried down the alley to the manhole, looked around worriedly, then slid the cover off. Quickly, he began his descent, tucking his chin down to avoid bumping his snout against the edge of the manhole. Once he was inside, he replaced the cover, then pulled his flashlight out of his backpack and grasped it tight - he'd already ruined one by dropping it down into the sluice. He carefully made his way back to the lair, lost in thought.

It was still somewhat early in the afternoon, and the mutants were deep in study. Donatello was trying to help Raphael over some rough ground in algebra, Leonardo was slogging his way through Shakespeare, and Splinter was teaching Michelangelo the causes of the Civil War - a topic he was pretty much learning along with him. All five looked up as Rocky entered the lair one room away, both somewhat surprised to see him, and rather grateful for the opportunity to take a quick break.

"You're back early," noted Leonardo.

Rocky leaned into the room, frowning. "Yeah, well, it went pretty quick."

Donatello noted the frown. "You don't seem too happy about it."

Sighing, Rocky said, "I broke something again."

"Something big?" asked Donatello.

"Aw, it was this glass...vase...thing. It ain't that big or expensive or nothin', but..." He closed his eyes. "Darnit, if I'd just looked before I set that stuff down..."

Splinter smiled slightly. "Rocksteady, you remember what I told you about obsessing?" Rocky sighed and nodded, so Splinter went on. "What has been done has been done. Make a note of it, learn from it, and move on." In a way, Splinter was pleased to see Rocky taking his job so seriously. It was a definite change from his attitude when he first arrived at the lair.

"Yeah, well, I'll try. Oh, an' the other guys're gettin' more friendly, which is pretty cool." He grinned. "Jim even asked me to go watch the Giants game at Ocelot's tonight. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah, I should say," Michelangelo agreed. "You gonna go?"

"Wha-? I can't just go."

"Why not?"

"Well, duh! 'cause everyone's just gonna stare at me!"

Splinter shook his head. "Rocksteady, you cannot avoid doing things simply because people will stare. People will stare at you whatever you do, simply because you look different. This is something you must learn to accept."

Rocky sighed. "I...don't like people starin' at me..."

"That is quite understandable," Splinter went on. "But the only way to avoid people staring is to stay in your room for the rest of your life. And I don't believe that is how you wish to live your life."

"Don't you want to go?" asked Michelangelo, after a long pause.

"Well, yeah. I like the Giants, and I ain't seen football in...God, forever."

"Then go!" Michelangelo grinned. "Take some of that money you've been saving up and treat yourself to a night out."

Michelangelo's enthusiasm was contagious. Grinning, Rocky said, "Ya know what? I think I deserve a night out." He lightly pounded the counter with his fist. "Awright, I'll go!"

Leonardo added, "Just...if all your friends want to swing by your place after the game?" He smiled and shook his head. "No."

Rocky's grin grew wider, and he gave Leonardo a thumbs-up. "Got it."

Rocky waited until a quarter after eight before he left for Ocelot's. The thought of potentially showing up before Jim, waiting around alone in a booth, with everyone gawking - that really unnerved him. Rocky stayed in the alleyway, out of the streetlights, until the street looked somewhat deserted, and then quickly shuffled out. The second he hit the sidewalk, a very strange feeling engulfed him. For a minute, he couldn't place it, but it finally hit him - he hadn't just walked down a street since that night he met up with Raphael. Wow, he thought, that feels like years ago. At first, he felt depressed thinking back to that night, when he had seriously asked someone to kill him. But slowly a smile played across Rocky's face. He'd come a long way since then. Thinking about the strides he had made got him happy, and he hardly noticed the stares and whispered comments around him.

He reached the front door of Ocelot's, pulled the door open and stepped inside. It was getting fairly crowded, like it always did on Monday evenings when a New York team was playing. Every set was tuned to the pre-game, and most people's eyes were glued to the sets. As Rocky stood at the entrance, trying to spot Jim, more and more people turned away from the screens and towards him. Before anyone could say anything, though, he spied Jim in a far booth. Grinning, he made his way past the other patrons to the far corner.

"Hey-a," he said to Jim.

"Rocky! You made it!" Jim indicated other end of the booth. Rocky had to move the table slightly, but he managed to squeeze himself in. Once he was installed, Jim introduced the other two guys at the table. "This is Jake and Spike. Guys, this is Rocky." Rocky grinned, mouth closed, and sort of waved at the others.

Jake said, "Geez, you weren't kiddin' - he is a big 'un."

Spike gaped. "Yeah. What are ya - part rhino?"

Rocky nodded, "Yeah. It's...kinda long story." Looking down, he added, "An' I don't really like talkin' 'bout it."

Jake held up his hands. "OK, cool."

There was a long uncomfortable pause, which Rocky finally broke. "Um, so, it's been kind of a long time since I kept up with th' Giants. Does their defense still suck?"

Everyone at the table laughed. Spike said, "Dude, the names change, but the game's the same. No defense."

The three humans spent the rest of the pre-game filling Rocky in on what he'd missed over the last few years. Once the game began, the conversation grew more and more infrequent, with almost all of it confirming points they'd discussed before. Even though New York was losing, Rocky was having a great time. Watching the game and chatting with fellow fans - he hadn't felt so relaxed, so normal, since his mutation.

Midway through the third quarter, a lousy call by the referee sent a chorus of shouts, boos and profanity throughout the bar. One patron, brave and foolish, chose this moment to show his support for the opposition. His neighbor, a Giants fanatic, took exception, and registered his displeasure by slugging him across his jaw. Immediately the two guys were at each other's throats, and the entire bar stopped booing the ref and began cheering the fight.

Rocky felt his heart drop. Even though he had nothing to do with this at all, he felt panicky. The cops would probably end up getting called in, and somehow, they were gonna pin this all on him. Then he'd be in jail, just like Bebop. Forget it - he wasn't going to jail because some drunk idiots wanted to fight about a football game. Rocky stood up and strode over to the melee, pushing a few people aside. When he got to the combatants, he merely put a hand on the back of their collars, pulled them apart, then began dragging them towards the exit. One managed a weak "Hey!" before Rocky had reached the door. Rocky kicked the door open with his bare foot, and shoved them both out. When Rocky turned back to the bar, he wasn't surprised to see nobody challenging him, but he was shocked to see several people applauding. Slowly, the grin returned to Rocky's face.

"Way to go!" yelled one, and Rocky gave him a thumbs-up sign.

"Hey, rhino man!" Rocky looked over at the bartender, who waved him over. Rocky was pretty sure he knew what was in store - he was getting kicked out. Resigned, he walked over to the bar and hung his head.

"Hey, man, thanks a lot for taking care of those guys for me," said the bartender. "Lemme get you something. What are you drinking?"

"Wha'?" Rocky hadn't been expecting anything like that. "Oh. Um, Coors. Thanks!"

"Hey, it's the least I can do." The bartender opened a bottle, and as he passed it across, he added, "You hungry?"

Dumb question - Rocky couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been hungry. "Sure."

"I'll have 'em send a burger over, too." Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Listen, you ain't looking for a job now, are you?"

Rocky shrugged. "I kinda got one now. How come?"

"My brother's opening a place down the road, and he's been looking for a bouncer. At least he was. Is that...something you'd be interested in?"

Rocky paused and considered. A bouncer, huh? Well, he wouldn't have to worry about breaking anything but the clients' heads, anyway. "Yeah, kinda. Sure."

The bartender grinned and grabbed the phone. He dialed a number, sat for a few seconds staring at the TV, then spoke. "Dave? It's Bob. You still lookin' for a bouncer for your place?...Dude, I've got the perfect guy...no, he's right here...hold on." He handed the phone to Rocky.

Rocky put it to his ear, and hoped he could be heard over the din of the place. Putting his finger to his other ear, he said "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Dave - who's this?"

"Rocky."

"Well, Rocky, my brother says you'd make one hell of a bouncer."

"Um..." Rocky thought about it. "Yeah, I think I would."

"You've never done any bouncing before?"

"Nah, but I'm pretty sure I can handle it."

"Hm. Well, we better have you come down and we can talk about it. Is Wednesday good for you?"

Rocky tried to remember his schedule. Yeah, Wednesday was clear. "Sure."

"OK, swing by here Wednesday at around ten a.m. I'm opening a place across from Wingnuts. You know where that is?"

"Yep."

"Great. We won't be open yet, but just bang on the door, and someone will let you in."

"Wow, this is great. Thanks a lot, Mr...um..."

Dave laughed. "Just call me Dave. See you Wednesday then."

"Sure thing! Thanks!" Rocky passed the phone back to the bartender, accepted a freshly opened bottle from him, and headed back to the table, grinning. Wow, them turtles was right, he thought. This wasn't turning out bad at all.

Rocky got back to the lair after everyone was asleep, so it wasn't until lunchtime the next day that he got to tell everyone the news. As he guessed, Splinter and the turtles were quite pleased.

"A bouncer," considered Michelangelo. "Yeah, that might be a bit more suited to your...temperament."

"How full is your schedule for the next few days?" asked Splinter.

Rocky pulled out his beat-up schedule from his pocket. "I'm off 'til Thursday, actually."

"This is most ideal. It will give you ample time to prepare."

"Prepare? Prepare f'r what?"

"Have you ever been employed as a bouncer?"

"No, but so what? All ya gotta do is look mean and bust heads when people get outta hand."

Raphael smirked at that comment. "Really? How long you think you're gonna keep yer job that way?"

"Whaddayamean?"

Raphael put his fork down, rubbed his chin, and thought for a few seconds. "What's a bouncer supposed to do?"

"Kick people out."

"No, seriously. Why do clubs have bouncers?"

It was Rocky's turn to think. "Keep things kinda...calmed down. If things kinda get outta hand, they gotta take care of it."

"How?"

"Um...they break up the fight, get rid of the guys what're causin' it...and sorta get everything back to normal."

Splinter nodded. "Excellent. Now is this something you feel you are capable of?"

Shrugging, Rocky said, "Sure. That's kinda what I did at the bar today."

"All right, then," said Raphael. "Let's just give ya a quick test. Leo, you wanna help me out with this?" He stood up, and Leonardo joined him on the other side of the room. Raphael whispered a few words to Leonardo, who nodded. Suddenly, Raphael shoved Leonardo into the wall. "Listen, wuss - you just stay away from my girlfriend."

Leonardo, trying not to grin, shoved back. "She's not your girlfriend anymore, buddy. She's all mine now."

"In your dreams, pal." Raphael reached around and grabbed him. Leonardo instantly thought of three ways to break the hold, but figured it'd be a better test if they were still stuck together. However, he did try to push Raphael into the wall.

Rocky stood up and grabbed both of them by their shells, peeling them apart.

"Let go o' me, ya freak," yelled Raphael, aiming a kick at his shins. Angrily, Rocky tossed Raphael against the wall with a loud thud. Raphael managed to go limp and pull himself into his shell, so the damage was minimal. Immediately reemerging, he stood up and shook his head.

"Nope. Flag on the play."

"What?" said Rocky, rather oblivious to the fact that he still had Leonardo in a death grip. "You was kicking me!"

"That doesn't matter," said Leonardo, shaking himself free.

"My sons are correct, Rocksteady," said Splinter. "As a bouncer, your job will be to end the fight, without actually doing any fighting of your own."

Rocky crossed his arms and glared at Splinter. "Even if they start beatin' on me?"

"Especially if they start beating on you," said Raphael, dusting himself off a bit.

"Precisely so. Rocksteady, you are the last line of defense - you must never allow yourself to become embroiled in whatever argument breaks out."

"Great," Rocky groaned.

Michelangelo said, "No, dude, think about it. No matter how big these guys are, you know you're gonna be bigger. So it's not like they're gonna cause you any damage, no matter how they try to wail on ya."

"Hm."

Raphael sat back down at the table, with Leonardo in tow. "Looks like we'll have to work in some bouncer practice for you. Don't worry - we'll have you ready by Wednesday."