Disclaimer: Don't own it.
It Can't Be…
Oh, Derek. I love you, truly, I do. But we cannot be…together.
But, Linda, I love you as well. Isn't that all that matters?
It should, but…I must tell you.
What is it, darling?
Can't you see? I love your clone — Dean.
Dean? He's not half the man I am!
Derek, he is you.
It doesn't matter. How could you do this to me?
"Geez, how could she do that to him?" Michelangelo commented, gesturing his hand toward the television.
Donatello rolled his eyes, however, the brainy turtle was also finding himself drawn into the poorly developed plot and the pressing situation that the mediocre actors were portraying. "It's not real, Mikey. But why do you think she picked Dean over him?"
His orange clad brother stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth, mesmerized by the flashing box in front of him. "I don't know, bro. But you gotta admit, Dean is dreamy."
Donnie raised an eye ridge at that, but nodded in agreement anyway.
Mikey and Don sat on the couch, each with a bag of chips in their hands and a bottle of soda. Their legs were propped up on the table in front of them as they slouched back into the pillows, watching, at the moment, a soap opera. Together, they truly displayed the truest form of laziness — couch potatoes.
Don't you care about how I feel, Derek?
I used to…until now.
Mikey let out an astonished gasp.
Oh, Derek, I never meant to hurt you.
Right, Linda…but now I should do something I should have done long ago.
What are you doing? Put that back. Put it down, Derek. Please!
In spite of himself, Don leaned forward as Mikey stared on with widening eyes.
No, I don't think so, Linda. It's time this ended.
The two turtles squeaked as Derek plunged a knife into Linda.
"Wow, didn't see that comin'," Mikey said as he turned to face his brother.
Donatello nodded. "Guess there was more unresolved tension between them than we thought."
"Let's clean up, Donnie. Wouldn't want Splinter to be upset when he gets back from his walk," suggested Michelangelo as he stood and stretched his stiff limbs.
"Yeah, I suppose we should." Don stood and cracked his sore neck. "Help me bring the food back into the kitchen."
"Right-o."
Donnie and Mike gathered as many of the snacks they had been eating as they could and made their way over to the door to the kitchen. They halted as they heard the rising voices of their older brothers on the other side. Mikey motioned for them to be quiet, and they both pressed closer to the door to hear their conversation.
Raphael's muffled voice made its way to their ears.
"I don't know what you're thinking, Leo. That's clearly not the way to do it."
"Absolutely not, Raph. This is how it's always done. Can't you remember anything?"
"My memory is just fine, thanks! But I'm tellin' you, that's not the right way."
"And I'm telling you it is!"
Mike covered up a small laugh, as Don tried to hide a smile.
Mike whispered, "What do you think is going on in there?"
"I have no clue. Probably just another petty argument between those two," Don answered quietly back.
Their brothers' voices increased in volume once more.
"That's it, Leo. I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago."
"Raph, take it easy. Put that back. Come on, bro, put it down!"
"No, I don't think so, Leo. It's time this ended."
Outside of the kitchen, Mikey and Don gaped at one another in disbelief.
"You don't think…" Mikey started.
"No, it can't be," muttered Donnie.
They looked at each other again and dropped everything they were carrying. Donatello and Michelangelo pushed open the door rushing to stop their brother from doing something he'd surely regret.
"Stop, Raph!" Mikey yelled. "It's not worth it!"
"Whatever it is, I'm sure we can help you guys work it out!" shouted Don.
Before them, Raph stood with a pizza cutter in his hand about to cut the pizza on the table, with Leo's hand on his wrist in a halted attempt to stop his brother in red.
Raph looked at his younger brothers in confusion, shared a worried glance with Leo, then stared back at them again. "What the shell are you guys talking about?"
"Yeah, Raph and I were just disagreeing over which way we usually cut up the pizza…into slices or squares," explained Leo, puzzlement still in his gaze.
Mikey and Don looked at each other, and they let out sighs of relief.
"Never mind. We just thought that…oh, it was nothing," sighed Donatello.
"Yeah, dudes. We'll be watching TV if you need us," replied Mikey, as if nothing had happened at all. He exited the kitchen, now humming a nameless tune. Don shrugged his shoulders and followed his younger brother out of the room.
Leo looked back at Raph, still utterly confused. "What's up with them?"
"I have no idea," Raph muttered, as he began to cut the pizza into slices.