Chapter 6 - "Don't forget the secret ingredient."

It was in the early hours of Thursday morning, in the dark underground subway terminal, that suddenly didn't seem so abandoned anymore,where a one-turtle-concert took place. The performer in question happily strutted around in the kitchen sub-car, shaking his green ass as he filled up the coffee percolator with freshly crushed beans, while singing to himself, and anyone who was awake to listen, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"I can see cleeeeearly now the rain is gone. I can see aaaaaaall obstacles in my waay. Gone are the daaa-ark clouds that had me bliind. It's gonna be a briiight, bright, bright, bright sunshiny day. It's gonna be a briiight, bright, bright, bright sunshiny day." He turned on the coffee maker and waggled towards one of the cupboards in a samba looking manner. There, he picked out the cleanest porcelain they owned, and brought it with him to the kitchen table.

"I think I can maake it now the pain is gone. All of the baaaad feelings have disappeeeared. Here is that rainbow I've been praying for. It's gonna be a briiight, bright, bright, bright sunshiny day." Donatello put down each plate on five different places at the table, all while swaying his hips to the cheery melody of his words.

There was no trace of the sleepwalking turtle that had prepared yesterday's breakfast, and perhaps it had something to do with today's morning session. Because this time Donnie knew what he got himself into, and he knew for a fact that Stalin was retired, and revenge was scheduled.

Could have something to do with it.

He danced over to the stove to start making the omelettes he had planned, a pure look of joy gleaming on his carefree face. It was indeed going to be a bright sunshiny day.

Splinter tiredly turned over on his mattress, trying to clear his mind of the noise coming from the carriage next to his. He couldn't understand why his son sang this early in the morning, nevertheless in the kitchen of all the places to perform. The shower would be understandable. Heck, he himself had even hummed a few tunes during his personal bathroom time, but never in the kitchen. And never this early.

What struck him as odd was that Donatello was the one doing the singing. He wasn't exactly what one would call a morning person, and singing was his youngest son's department. It wasn't until now that the old ninja master understood why his inventing son hadn't shared his singing with them before, and probably did it while everyone else was sleeping - it sounded terrible. His voice reminded him of a screaming cat someone tried to strangle, especially on the high notes of the song.

Perhaps Donatello should stick to his books and projects, because this was torture to anyone who was cursed with the ability to hear.

Finally Splinter gave up on sleeping and got up for another early morning session of last-way-out meditation. Maybe he should bring out the heavy artillery and lit a couple of candles to help set the mood better, just in case.

Leonardo climbed down off the chair, and after talking a couple of steps back, inspected the clock hanging on the stone wall. He considered turning it forward five more minutes, but then decided to leave it at ten. The important thing was that it moved ahead of the other clocks in the lair, and that the youngest turtle didn't know of it.

"Countin' the minutes, are ya?"

Leo turned around to find his two brothers stepping onto the platform, where the light in the dojo could reach them.

"Yeah.." Raphael grinned. "I know the feelin'." He walked up to the old table that stood against the wall, in order to leave as much space as possible for training, and set down his portable CD player on it.

"Did you bring the music?" Leo questioned his partners in crime, walking up to them.

"Sure did," Don confirmed happily, and held up the 'Jaws' soundtrack to prove it.

"You turn the clock?" Raph returned a question, while plugging in the mini stereo.

"Yup, ten minutes ahead," Leonardo proudly announced. "So.. where is Mikey?"

"I dunno..." Raph shrugged. "Sleepin', I guess." He bent down do adjust his knee pads.

"He didn't wake up with you two running around?" Leo wondered, slightly surprised.

"We're ninja," Don pointed out to his brother. "Remember?" He walked over to one of the shelves and grabbed the four plastic bottles that stood there. "Besides, I woke Raph up, so his clock wouldn't have to blare off."

"Good," Leo approved. "Then we should have some time to go over the plan."

"Like we could forget," Raph said with wicked smile.

"Sure," Don replied, and started walking towards the end of the platform. "I'll just fill up these bottles first."

"Don't forget the secret ingredient," Raphael reminded, his grin growing even bigger.

"I don't know, you guys," Leo spoke up from beside his brother in red. "Don't you think that's a little too much?"

"Aw, c'mon, Leo," Raph pushed, his eyes narrowing. "Don't bail on us. We talked about this last night."

"Yeah, I know." Leo nodded, looking in between his brothers. "But don't you think getting him drunk is a little over the edge?"

"Leo," Donnie said from across the room. "If there is such a thing as an 'edge', Mike sure pushed us all over it yesterday."

"Yeah," Raph agreed with Donatello. "It's time ta push back."

"Splinter's gonna be furious," Leo said, staring into nothingness.

"So what's he gonna do?" Raph challenged, causing his oldest brother to look at him. "Take away our chores?"

Leo shrugged his shoulders.

"Y'know," Raph said, looking from Don to Leo. "Ye look more like a wuss than a fearless leader ta me. You should try livin' up ta yer name for once. See what it feels like."

Leo shot him an angry glare, showing his younger brother that he didn't find his joke very funny.

"C'mon, Leo," Raph said supportively, to make up for his insult. "It's karma."

The oldest turtle thought to himself for a while, wrestling with his two shoulder angels. One told him to abort the mission and forgive his little brother, while the other preached about how good it would feel once Mike got a taste of his own medicine. Finally, after having listened to the two miniatures of himself bicker with each other about who was right, Leo turned to his waiting siblings.

"All right," he said, nodding in agreement. "Let's do it."

Both Donatello and Raphael's faces lit up at the green sign, and Don turned and jumped off the platform.

"Wait," Raph stopped him. "Do ye even know where I keep the booze?"

Don thought to himself for a moment, realizing there was no right answer to that question. If he told Raph where it was, he would know that he had been snooping around in his room. But on the other hand, if he pretended like he didn't know, he turned down that part of himself that always had to be right, and always had to have all the answers.

"In your bottom drawer," he finally answered, giving into his ego, although with a worried look twisting his features.

"An' how is it ye know that?" Raph asked angrily, crossing his arms to intimidate his sibling even further.

"I might've been in your room.. once or twice," Donnie carefully admitted.

"You went through my stuff!" Raphael outburst, causing a scared sewer rat to come out of his hiding underneath the shelf and skitter across the floor. But as soon as the rat was gone, he turned his attention back to Donatello.

Don realized his siblings wasn't staring at the rat anymore and looked back at his red clad brother. "Only when I was looking for mine," he defended himself, his voice slightly higher than he had intended.

"Oh, like when did I take any of yer stuff?" Raph shot back, ticked off by Don's answer.

Donnie's eye ridges shot up in shock, before he started rambling a long list of examples. "My laptop, my CD's, my comic books, my walkman, my board, my--"

Raph put up his hands to silent his brother, a little surprised he had such good memory. Even he didn't remember taking all that stuff. "A'right, a'right, I get it. I borrow lot a' stuff."

"Funny you should use that word," Donnie said, lifting his right leg onto the platform. "Cuz in order to 'borrow' something, you have to give it back."

The two turtles glared at each other, each thinking the other one's mistake was more wrong.

"Maybe you should both go and get it," Leonardo suggested, causing both of them to look at him. "You'll probably need help carrying the bottles anyway." He pleadingly looked at his brothers, while feeling the minutes fly by like seconds.

"Okay," Donatello agreed, looking at Raphael. "I guess you could be of help."

"Fine," Raph said with a snobby look on his face. "We'll both go." With that, the two enemies walked down the dark tunnel back to the living area, leaving Leonardo to the finishing touches of the soon to be training session.

The youngest turtle wandered down the tunnel to the dojo, surprised to hear fighting noises coming from there already. When he got there he saw Donatello and Raphael sparring with each other, and his third brother, Leonardo, supervising them by the sideline.

"You started without me?" Mikey questioned, with a hint of hurt on his voice.

Leo turned around to find the orange wearing turtle by the edge of the platform, watching his two siblings fight. "You're late," he strictly commented.

"Wha?" Mike breathed in surprise. "What are ya talking about, Leo? I'm totally on time."

"Oh really?" Leo questioned, his hands on his hips. "Then why don't you tell my what time it is?" He confidently motioned towards the clock on the wall.

Donnie and Raph took a pause in their fighting to witness their youngest brother fall victim to their evil plan.

"What?" Mikey exclaimed when looking at the clock. "But how can it be ten past already? I'm sure I left just before six. It couldn't've taken me ten minutes to get here." He absentmindedly scratched himself on his left elbow.

"Are you implying I'm lying?" Leo questioned, crossing his arms in disapproval.

"No.." Michelangelo answered, his gaze unsteady. "I'm just sayin' it's a little weird."

"Looks crystal clear to me," Leo said, holding his eyes on Mike. "Now run fifty laps around the dojo."

"Fifty laps?" Mikey repeated tiredly. "You're kidding. How 'bout I juz run down the tunnel and back?" He pointed down the tunnel behind him.

"Oh no," Leonardo forbid. "I want you here where I can keep an eye on you."

Mike stood frozen, staring at his oldest brother in shock.

"Go on," Leo insisted. "You better get started if you want to make time for sparring."

Mikey's shoulders slumped in dismay as he slowly started running around the dojo.

Leo watched him with pleasure, holding back a smile to appear serious. "You two get back to practice," he ordered Don and Raph, who had watched the entire thing from the centre of the room.

Halfway through his fifty laps, Mike's tired legs dragged him over to the table where their water bottles stood. He reached for his bottle, where he had smudged his name in big capital letters, and unscrewed the cork. He hungrily brought the bottle to his lips and swallowed the cold liquid, only to twist his face in disgust and abort immediately. Mikey held the bottle in front of his face and looked at with confusion. It was definitely water. But the burning taste left in his throat told him there was something else as well in that bottle.

No, Mikey thought to himself. They couldn't possibly have... could they?

"Something wrong?" Leo asked from where he stood, leaning his shell against the wall.

"I'm not sure," Mike replied, looking up at Leonardo. "There something wrong with my water?"

"Yeah, Raph and Donnie complained about their water tasting funny, too," Leo said, straightening himself. "Could be traces left of the polish I used to clean them with earlier. Don't worry, it's not toxic or anything."

Mikey suspiciously looked from his brother to his bottle, deciding whether to believe him or not. "Yeah, that's probably it," he finally said, and brought the bottle back to his lips and drank some more, even though that burning taste still lingered in his throat. He then screwed the cork back on and set off to finish his laps, unbeknownst to his brothers eyeing each other and grinning behind his back.

After having finished his laps, his flips, and moved on to sparring with Donatello, Michelangelo started to feel a bit dizzy. His eyes didn't quite follow his body, and it seemed as if his surroundings came afterwards, whenever he spun around. It didn't take long before Don had him pinned to the ground, his staff held horizontal against his plastron, to keep him from getting back up.

"Looks like you lost, buddy," Donnie said with a smile, before stepping off of him and offering his hand to help him up.

Mikey looked at him for a moment, before taking the hand and rising to his waggling feet. Don stared at him with a puzzled look, his eyes studying him intently.

"You okay there?" Donnie asked, trying to find eye contact with Mikey's swaying eyes.

"Yeah," Mike replied with a massive grin, even for him. "Juz punched the air outta me. I'll be fine." He chuckled, for no apparent reason.

Donatello nodded at his little brother, before looking over to Leo and Raph with an evil smile Mikey couldn't see.

"Alright," Leo spoke from the side of the room, where he and Raphael had been watching. "So let's move on to some basic exercises." He motioned for Raph to follow him over to the mat where the other two stood.

Mike groggily titled from one foot to the other, a broad smile playing on his face, that wouldn't go away.

By the time Leo had gathered them for meditation, Mikey couldn't stop giggling, and even seemed to have some trouble with sitting upright. The fact that the theme to 'Jaws' played in the background, the same movie that caused Michelangelo to wet his bed as is child, didn't seem to bother him the slightest. Instead, he happily sang along to the nightmarish melody, while making swimming motions with his arms, drunkenly pretending he was chased by the Great White.

Raphael rolled his eyes in irritation as Donnie smirked at the free entertainment they were given.

The part where the shark was about the attack, Mike started to wave around in panic, pretending he was drowning, and doing it impressively well, for a guy sitting on dry floor. And just to make sure that anyone who had ignored him before, wouldn't be able to, Mikey started screaming and rolling around on the mat, his legs kicking frantically.

"Okay, that's enough," Leonardo interrupted, after having observed his improvising little brother for minutes, being as the song was set on repeat.

Michelangelo froze in his worm like position on the floor, and lifted his head to look at the oldest turtle. "Duue, thissa' s'm aws'mm ssstuff," he complimented Leo for his choice of music. "I thaah ye'were gun' pick somet'n geeky, lie Beethov'n or some'n."

"Right," Leo replied, trying to hold his voice in control. "Sit up and behave yourself," he ordered. "This is a meditation session, not some break dance camp."

"If that's break dancing," Donnie said, implying Mike's little performance. "Maybe you really should send him off to camp."

Raph snickered at the comment, ignoring the impatient glare his brother in blue sent him.

Mike just crawled over to his spot on the mat and sat back up, trying to post a serious look on his face. After double checking on the youngest, Leo closed his eyes along with the others and searched inside himself for inner peace.

A few minutes into the game, a loud thud brought them back to the room, and once their eyes were open, they quickly found the source of the sound.

Michelangelo laid sleeping on the floor, his cheek pressed up against the mat, with saliva running from the corner of his mouth, sticking his skin to the surface of the mat. Donnie knew for a fact that leaving him there for a few minutes, would only result in him to start snoring. Back when Donatello and Mikey had shared a room, he had to fall asleep to that wheezing sound coming from the mattress across from his. And Mike's snoring wasn't just like any kind of snoring. No, he brought the word to a whole new level, where even the dead couldn't sleep in peace. This was one of the prime reasons for Don sleeping as hard as he did. Because when he finally got himself to fall asleep, he had to go way under to keep the unbearable noise from waking him up.

"Great.." Leo muttered. The Fearless leader rose to his feet to turn off the music, and with that, end his first - and perhaps only - morning practice.

Raphael stood guard on the main platform, as Donatello snuck by with a laughing Michelangelo, who had also developed the famous drunken hiccup. He leaned his suddenly very heavy head on Don's left shoulder and didn't do much to move his legs, meaning Donnie had to support most of his brother's weight on his shoulder, by holding onto his right arm. They hurried inside Mikey's room, where Raph closed the doors together behind them, securing them from Splinter's eagle eye. Although just to be sure, he stayed in the living room, watching for any kind of danger.

Donnie dropped Mike onto his bed, causing a light chuckle to escape the drunken turtle's throat.

"I'mmot tired," Michelangelo slurred, trying to get back up.

"Sure you are," Don insisted, pushing him back down to his pillow. He then pulled out the covers from underneath him.

"Butta havven 'ad breakf'st yet," Mikey said, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face into his pillow.

"We'll save ya some for later," Don hastily promised, while burying his baby brother underneath his Spiderman covers.

"For sure.." Mike mumbled, already half asleep.

"Right. So you just sleep now..." Donnie said and backed away, carefully leaving the sub-car and closing the doors quietly after him, but not until hearing the beginning of Mike's abnormal snoring, of course.

"Fell asleep pretty fast," Raph spoke from the couch, mentioning to the snores coming from the closed room.

Donatello turned around and found Raphael with the TV remote in his hand, doing some early morning channel surfing. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Luckily." He then went over to sit down next to his brother, where they waited for Leo to finish in the shower. "Hey," he suddenly remembered something and turned to his brother. "What was it in that liquor bottle of yours?"

Raph smiled evilly, recalling the time when he and Casey found out the hard way. "Yeah, it's pretty heavy stuff," he said, turning back to the TV. "But I didn't use much, which is why it's so good ta dilute with water. Ye can't taste it as strongly, like ya would with the usual stuff."

"Is that so?" Don questioned, an eye ridge halfway up his forehead.

Raphael turned to Donnie, noticing his intense stare. "What?" he exclaimed innocently. "It's not like he'll die or anythin'."

"Well, you should know," Donatello mumbled, turning to look at the television.

It was unusually quiet at the table, the only sound coming from Splinter as he stirred the spoon in his cup of tea. Each turtle kept to himself, intensely focusing on his own plate of omelette. Splinter eyed all of them, watching how they ignored his gaze, before he opened his mouth to speak.

"Where is Michelangelo?"

The three turtle heads shot up at the mention of the youngest ninja's name, none of them seeming to know what to do.

"I put him in for a little extra work during practice," Leo answered from Splinter's right side. "You know, for what he did to us yesterday."

Splinter stared intently at his oldest son, waiting for him to proceed.

"Anyway," Leo continued. "It must've really wiped him out... cause he went straight to bed afterwards."

Splinter nodded in understanding, although sensing there was more to it than that. He decided he was better off not knowing, and lifted his warm cup to drink. "How was practice?" he asked after he had swallowed the hot liquid, and turned to Donatello across the table.

"Good," Don replied stiffly, escaping his father's eyes by lifting some omelette onto his fork. "It was good. Um, we did some exercises and.. some meditating."

The old rat looked over to his red masked son, who sat to Leo's right. "Do you believe it was wise to vote for Leonardo?"

Raphael didn't realize Splinter was talking to him until he caught Donnie's urging look at the other side of the table. "Oh," he said, turning to his father. "Uhh.. yeah. Definitely."

Later in the day, far into the afternoon, Donatello sat in front of the TV, watching an old 'Fresh Prince' episode. Leonardo wiped the floors in the background, having already swept everywhere, well, except for Mikey's room, of course. Raphael came back from his emergency trip to the kitchen, and took his seat next to Donnie.

"We're outta milk," he told him casually.

"So put it on the fridge," Don answered absentmindedly.

"What?" Raph turned to look at his brother, confusion plastered on his face.

"Yeah," Don said, turning to his right where Raphael sat. "I put a note on the fridge, where you write down the things we need." He turned back to the TV.

"Ya mean, so we'll do yer job," Raph corrected, slightly ticked off.

"You're not doing my job," Don disagreed, turning back to his brother. "It's just a system I came up with to make the process a little easier."

"For you," Raphael added.

"No.." Don insisted, his voice rising slightly. "For everyone. It's a perfectly good system. Saves us all a lot of time."

Leonardo quietly wiped away from behind them, listening to the argument, while doing his best to stay out of it.

"Yeah well, forget it," Raph refused. "I'm not doin' yer job. I have my own chores ta deal with."

"You're not doing my job," Donnie said. "You're just helping out in the process."

"I don't care what ye call it," Raphael snapped. "I'm ain't part of no process."

"Raph, would you stop making such a big deal out of everything," Don argued. "It's not like you're the one buying the food."

"I have to agree with Raph on this one," Leonardo spoke up from behind them, causing both of them to turn around in surprise. "You have to take full responsibility of your chores."

Raphael grinned victoriously at his older brother's support, flashing his smirk to Donatello, who only frowned in response. "Fine," he said, crossing his arms at his chest. "I'll keep that in mind next time you ask me for anything."

Leo and Raph shared a look, silently exchanging the words; 'touchy, touchy.'

The doors to Michelangelo's room slid open, and all turtles turned to look at the youngest family member as he scuffled his hangovered self into the world of the living. His arms hung limp at his sides, while the tails of his bandanna were wrinkled and drooled on. But the worst part was his eyes. They seemed to fight the laws of gravity on order to just stay open.

"Mornin', Sunshine," Raph greeted happily, not being able to hold back the comment, that screamed in his head to be let out.

Mike, who in spite of his hangover and foggy memories, understood well enough to know who were behind it, and shot a nasty glare at Raphael, before moving on towards the kitchen. The three brothers exchanged worried glances with each other, all fearing that Mikey would rat them out to Splinter.

After Mike had eaten some breakfast leftovers, and washed it down with some much needed water, he was stuck in the bathroom, cleaning Klunk's litter box. That was one of the many things he didn't want to do when his hangover loomed above him. He even felt like he was still a little bit drunk. All because of Leo's stupid morning practice, of which most of it he couldn't even remember.

He filtered the sand through the yellow spade, which was taped together by the handle, and dumped the smelly kitty turd into the bag he clutched in his other hand. After repeating the process several times, and still finding loads of chunks in the box, Mikey decided that enough was enough.

He angrily put down the spade to the floor, and sat there for a moment, just staring at the stinky kitty toilet. All of a sudden his entire face lit up, and he quickly dumped the bag of crap in the kitty box, that he lifted in his arms and brought with him out of the bathroom.

He made sure no one was looking, since all his brothers were occupied with watching TV, before he snuck by behind them, and slunk inside the kitchen sub-car. There, he strolled up to the trash cabinet and opened the cupboards. He bent down and poured all the kitty sand and poop into the trash can. Just as he was about to drop the crap bag into the trash, an idea struck him. So he grabbed the bag and used a couple of kleenex tissues to veil the sand and cover up his tracks, before he closed the cabinet and snuck back inside the bathroom.

Raphael went over to Don's room, after having cleaned up after dinner, and peeked inside. He found his brother by his desk, working with a couple of screws on the back of a speaker.

"Donnie," he called into the room, causing his concentrated brother to jump at the sound and drop the screwdriver. "Trash's full," he informed, sticking his head back out and leaving to watch some late night TV with Leonardo and Splinter, since Michelangelo had gone back to bed right after dinner.

Donatello sat alone in his room, sighing at the thought of that long walk to the dump again, before he gathered enough strength to get up from the chair and do his job.

Leo stretched his arms when 'Jay Leno' ended and yawned loud enough to let the entire sewer know that he was tired. He turned to Raphael on his left, who instantly began flicking for other shows the second Leno ended.

"I'm gonna go to bed," Leo announced and rose from the couch, watching his brother's reaction.

"..Sure," Raph mumbled, as he flicked by the channels in ninety miles per hour.

"Night," Leo said and left for his room.

As he got inside the darkened sub-car, he was met by a strange, and very strong stench. He followed his nose in the darkness, walking through the room and stopping by the mattress, where the source of the smell seemed to reside. He bent over and turned on his bedside lamp, this time relying on his eyes when looking back down at the mattress.

There, on his uber clean bed, laid dozens of cat chunks, spread out properly, with the biggest one polluting his pillow.

"MIKEY!"

Raphael flinched at the furious cry that suddenly came from his oldest brother's room, and dropped the remote control in his lap. Leonardo came storming out of his room, a look of plain evil on his face, and stomped across the living room towards Mike's sub-car, pulling the doors open with a super-heroic force.

Raph thought of going over there to check out what happened, but settled for leaning over on the couch, where the view was good enough.