To Shadw, sorry, but Mikey isn't Zechs. Very good guess, though. I'll tell everything in the last chapter so you all know that I'm not just making this up. And to Cyber Commander, I'm assuming that because The Interesting Twins didn't actually commit any crimes other then bugging the KND, they weren't taken to prison. Sorry for not updating sooner.

The meeting on the Sweet Revenge took place as peacefully as anything like that could go. The Common Cold had reported that the dragon that Spyder made was deactivated. Giovanni was patched up as best he could, as Knightbrace knew quiet a bit of first aid. He tried to ask Giovanni all of the questions needed to prove that there was no permanent damage to Giovanni's brain, but it was difficult, as Giovanni seemed to have forgotten English.

"How many fingers?" Knightbrace asked, holding up three fingers

"Tres."

"What's three times three?"

"Nove."

"The landlubber just needs to rest. Let 'em be." Stickybeard said.

"There might be brain damage, if he's not okay, then we'll have to take him to the hospital." Knightbrace said in a wicked tone.

Mikey leaned over to Giovanni, "Parla Inglese?"

"Si."

"We speak English here, Giovanni. Do you remember any English?"

"Yes...where am I?" Giovanni said, harder to understand then ever.

"You're on a pirate ship."

Giovanni looked exasperated, "No, Where am I really?"

Mikey sighed.

###################

Angelo must have told his little brother about Numbuh One's meeting, because Mikey had invited Numbuh One....and only Numbuh One, to a meeting at his personal office, an Italian Restaurant. It would be one on one. It was the oldest trap in the book. Mikey knew this.

Numbuh One opted to go, but he had all operatives and all Delightful Children waiting around while the meeting took place. Numbuh One found Mikey sitting in a comfortable chair in a relatively uncrowded Italian restaurant.

"Please, Mr.Uno, sit." The gangster said, motioning to the chair in front of him. Numbuh One complied. Spaghetti was placed in from of him. Mikey was having the same dish. A waiter, a scarred Italian who looked familiar, filled their wine glasses with vanilla coke. His head was heavily bandaged, with a patch on his cheek, and an another one wrapped around his head.

"We should stop this violence, Mr. Uno. Why don't we make a deal?" Mikey asked, holding the wine glass in his hand. He sipped slowly.

"If you want to be an operative, forget it." Numb uh One shot. He got a bad feeling about the food and drink.

"I no longer care about that, Mr. Uno, I just want to make peace, you see. I think we could be friends."

"Really." Numbuh One said flatly, "Don't call me Mr. Uno. That's my dad." Mikey shrugged.

"Nigel?"

"Numbuh One."

"Numbuh One, leave the Delightful Children to me, I'll take care of them myself. They are both of our enemies. Next, please don't interfere with any of my activities. We are a proper and legitimate organization under the eyes of the adults."

"The Kids Next Door fight adults. Do you really think we care that the enemy approves of you. Pft." Numbuh One said, rolling his eyes.

Mikey seemed unphased, "Oh, right. Forgive me."

"We have nothing to talk about, Michelangelo, Now I'll be leaving." Numbuh One said, getting up. He left quickly. Mikey was amused to see that at five minute intervals, sever other people left as well, obviously just his friends in disguise.

Mikey walked over to the fish tank in the corner, and poured Nigel's glass of coke into the water. Within seconds, the fish withed and died.

######################

Midnight at the suburbia. A blue 1972 Ford pickup drove down the streets. It stopped at a corner, and out stepped the Tolinater and his only son, The Spawn of the Tolinater. This time, however, the Spawn of the Tolinater was wearing black and grey armor, like the kind Cree owned, except more functional. He wore a black tattered cape, and this made him look like Smoke from Mortal Kombat.

"Uh, Dad... Tell me why we just TPed our OWN house?"

"Isn't it obvious? If everyone's house is TPed, then they'll never suspect us."

The Spawn of the Tolinater sighed. His father, and most adults he knew, made no sense. He grabbed a toilet paper roll, and like his father, threw it at one house, keeping one end. The Tolinater simply used the rolls on his wrists to seemingly physic animate them to wrap around trees and other objects. This was the Tolinater's sacred mission. To TP the whole neighborhood. He'd been planning it for months.

The Spawn of the Tolinater was having fun, to say the least. TPing, with the permission form his dad, no less. Nobody would recognize him anyway.

"This is great, Dad!" he said gleefully. He regretted not watching Tron tonight, but this was definably worth it. He loved old movies. Seeing nobody around, he floated off the ground. Like the Terrible Tutor, Phillip Jr. could fly. He thought he was like a Powerpuff.....Boy.
Sorry for taking so long, and for the short chapter, and for the lack of substance.