Chapter 10 - "Ya gonna diagnose us?"
It was Monday and the oldest turtle had locked himself inside his room. He needed his privacy when meditating and that was something he simply couldn't find in the company of his brothers. Apart from that, he was still mad at Michelangelo for not telling him where he'd hidden the DVD's, and the further Leo pushed his little brother to confess, the bigger grew Mikey's threat about ratting him out to Splinter for getting him drunk.
Leonardo was stuck in a no win situation and therefor locked himself inside his room to calm himself down.
He sat on his mattress, his legs crossed and his eyes closed, where he slowly but surely blocked out the screaming voices of his brothers from the living room, where they had been playing video games since lunch.
It didn't take long for Leo to become relaxed, after all - he had done this many times before. But just as he felt his thoughts and problems began to vanish, another problem called for his attention.
Leonardo worriedly opened his eyes and caressed his stomach, wincing at the cramping pain that came from inside it. If he didn't know any better, he almost felt as if he was about to--
Leo's eyes widened in terror and he quickly clutched a hand over his mouth.
It looked like this particular problem was about to surface.
Inside the living room Raphael was busy kicking Mike's ass in another round of 'Dead or Alive.' Mikey's poor character was trapped to the right side of the screen, where Raph continuously kept kicking her.
"Raph, c'mon!" Michelangelo whined, pushing his older brother in his right side. "At least give me a chance."
Raph only snickered, ignoring his little brother's plea for mercy as his animated character continuously tried to get up, without much luck.
"Raph!" Mike complained, trying to snatch the remote from his rival. "It's not funny anymore!"
As the two of them were wrestling for the power of the 'Playstation 2' control, the doors to Leonardo's room slid open. The two turtles turned their attention to the sub-car as the owner of it burst out of the room, sprinting past his siblings on his mission to the bathroom, where disturbing noises began to take form.
"The hell?" Raph growled to himself and got up from the couch to go after his big brother. "LEO!" he outburst as he appeared in the bathroom doorway. "Whattahell do ya think yer doin'!"
Even though Leo's head was halfway down the toilet he could still hear his brother, but the upchucking made it kind of hard for him to answer. He clutched his hands around the porcelain ring and opened his mouth for another departure of today's lunch.
"Leo!" Raph howled, getting more and more upset with the behaviour of their Fearless Leader. "I juz cleaned that toilet!"
"...sha'...up.." Leo murmured in between vomiting.
"What's going on?" Mikey asked as he stepped up beside Raphael in the doorway, peeking over his shoulder to get a better view. "Du-ude," he squealed, covering his beak in disgust. "That's so gross!"
"...gettaw.." Leo gulped, before another load of food came up his throat.
"What was that?" Mikey wondered, looking at Raphael for a translation.
"Get out!" Leo yelled, this time looking up at the two, although not for very long as porcelain duty called yet again.
"Yeah well, I aint't cleaning," Raph declared as he pushed Mike away from the scene and went back to the couch. Raphael sat down on the armrest as Michelangelo stood on the floor, his face twisting in disgust at the sound still coming from the bathroom sub-car.
"He could've at least closed the door," Mike said, looking at Raphael, who only sent his brother an unimpressed glare in return.
"That'll be the least of his problems when he's done," Raph growled, thinking about all the cleaning that had to be done in their bathroom.
Mikey leaned over to peek inside the bathroom, where Leo still sat on his knees, his head down the toilet. "Man, I hope it's not catching," he mumbled, taking a moment to see how his stomach felt.
"Catching?" Raph repeated, a mocking look on his face. "Right, so who'd Leo get it from - the rats? Or maybe Klunk?"
Mike smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "Ya never know."
A moment later they heard the toilet flush and the water tap being turned on. Not long after that, a pale Leonardo staggered out of the bathroom, his hands grabbing his stomach. "I don't feel so good," he murmured, collapsing on the couch next to Raphael, who tensed a little at the armrest, even though he hadjust told his little brother it wasn't contagious.
"No kidding," Mikey commented, sitting down on the coffee table. "Ya don't look so good, either. And I'm not juz talking about your usual charming self."
Leo glared at his brother, pulling his arms around himself to warm up.
"I sure hope ye cleaned up afta' yerself," Raph added, with no trace of worry on his voice.
"Shut up, Raph," Leo said, sinking deeper into the couch. "Can't you see I'm sick?"
"Yeah, ye look like shit," Raph pointed out, crossing his arms. "But I don't care. Ya juz barfed all over my chores."
Leonardo only closed his eyes and leaned his head into the cushion of the old couch, ignoring his brothers.
Raph reached for the remote and started flicking for anything to watch, while Michelangelo stared at his sick brother. He carefully approached the couch, making sure not to make any contact with Leo and slowly sat down on the far end of the couch, right next to Raph.
"Mike, get offa' me," Raph pushed his brother away, causing Leo to open his eyes. "I don't want ye in my lap!"
Mikey flew up from the couch to avoid touching Leo. "But what if it's ca--"
"It's not catchin', dammit," Raph cut him off, rolling his eyes and looking back at the TV.
Mike carefully studied Leo, as if he carried the Ebola virus, before he slowly sat back down on the couch, making sure he wasn't touching his brother.
Leo tiredly glared at the youngest turtle for a second before he closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch, rubbing his stomach.
The next few minutes were spent in silence. Raphael was still channel surfing, never stopping at a channel for more than half a second and Leo was half asleep on the couch, while Mikey still stared at him, a look of disgust plastered on his face.
It's not catching, it's not catching, it's not catching, the hypochondriac repeated to himself in his mind, while trying not to breathe in the air Leo exhaled.
The three of them remained like this for a while, until Raph suddenly got a weird look on his face and got up from the armrest.
"What's the matter, bro?" Mikey asked, turning to look at his other brother, who didn't look very well. "You all right?" he wondered, his features twisting with concern.
Without a single word spoken, Raph took off to the bathroom, swiftly lifting up the toilet lid before he leaned in to empty his stomach.
The vomiting noises caused Mike to jump up from the couch, moving as far away from Leonardo as he could.
Leo only sighed and got up from the couch, his arms wrapped around himself as he followed Raphael.
"Stay away from me!" Mikey warned and pointed at Leo with an unsteady finger, backing his shell up against the kitchen sub-car.
Leo only ignored his panicked sibling and peeked inside the bathroom where Raphael still did his business. "I thought we weren't suppose to throw up on your chores," the oldest said with a smile, only to earn the finger from his doubled over brother.
Donatello sat up in his bed and tiredly rubbed his eyes. He had gone to bed not long after cleaning up after breakfast and, glancing at the clock on the bedside table next to him, he realized he had slept all the way to 2:13 pm. Getting up so early to prepare breakfast was starting to get to him.
He yawned sleepily before he got to his feet and scratched himself on his left thigh, realizing that he had to go and empty his bladder. Then, while still feeling half asleep, he opened his sub-car doors and stepped out into the living room, where things had changed a little bit since before he went to bed.
Raphael and Leonardo sat on each end of the couch, both of them wrapped in blankets, with pathetic looks on their faces. Mikey sat on the floor, with his 'Spiderman' pillow under him, watching TV at a safe distance from the other two.
"What happened to you guys?" Don asked, getting all of their attention as he stepped out of his room.
"Don't look at them!" Mikey cried, reaching out his arms towards Donnie for a more powerful effect. "They're catching!"
"I'm sorry.. what?" Don asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Don't lissen ta 'im," Raph muttered, pulling his blanked closer to his face. "He's been like this eva' since Leo threw up."
"Threw up?" Don questioned, his face losing some of its color.
"Oh, not you too..." Leo mumbled, leaning his head back into the couch. "So we threw up - big deal. It's not the end of the world."
Donnie remained by the sub-car, looking at the two on the couch. "Um.. when y-you... threw up. Did you do it in a bucket, or.."
"Whattahell do ya think?" Raph spat, sitting up. "We did it in there." He pointed towards the bathroom sub-car.
"Y-you did it in the toilet?" Don paled even more, thinking about all the germs they left behind. How was he supposed to go tinky winky now?
"Well, it's not like we had time to fill up a bucket of water," Leo defended their actions, pulling his blanket tighter around himself. Raphael nodded in agreement.
Donatello took a deep breath to calm himself down. After he'd done so he looked back at his contagious brothers. "When did you.. um... start feeling sick?" he asked.
Leo and Raph glanced at each other before turning back to Don. "Some time after lunch," Leo said.
Don's eyes narrowed and his voice became more serious. "What did you have for lunch?"
"Chicken," Leo answered, getting a confused look on his face. "Why?"
"Mikey's chicken?" Donnie questioned, glancing at his little brother on the floor.
"Yeah," Raph answered, his features tensing. "Don, where ya getting at?"
Donatello ignored his red masked brother and turned to Michelangelo. "Mikey, how'd you prepare the chicken?" Mike stared at his brother in confusion. "It's real important that you tell me," Don urged.
Mikey scratched himself on his arm, a little taken aback by his older brother's seriousness. "Um.. I boiled it.. why? Did I do something wrong?"
Donatello turned back to the other two, who looked even more confused. "You might suffer from food poisoning," he finally said, causing Raph and Leo to turn to the youngest turtle with angry looks on their faces.
"Ya gave us food poisonin'?" Raph blew up, looking a tad upset.
"What?" Mikey exclaimed in shock, before quickly turning to look at his pissed off brothers. "C'mon guys, I didn't poison you." He held up his arms in defence. "Leo's the bad cook, remember?"
Unfortunately for Mikey, the comment only made Leo angrier. "When I get my hands on you..." he growled, sitting up properly.
"No, c'mon, I bet there's some mistake.. Right, Donnie?" Mike turned to the purple dressed turtle, who still stood outside of his room.
"Well, maybe," Donnie admitted, much to Michelangelo's relief. "If it's food poisoning, then all of you have to get sick, and unless you don't feel like throwing up.."
"I don't," Mikey quickly chirped. Truth was he had felt a little nauseous, but he figured it was only his imagination playing tricks on his stomach. After all, it hadn't started until he saw Leo throw up.
"How's Sensei feeling?" Don asked his older brothers.
"Last time I checked he was fine," Leo answered, before realizing something and turning back to Mikey. "Then again, he didn't eat the chicken, did he?"
Mike smile nervously and pushed himself backwards, retreating slowly across the floor with his pillow underneath him.
"Why not?" Donatello wondered, still looking at Leo.
"He ate the sushi April got for him," Leo explained, causing Donnie to nod a the memory of bringing home the raw fish the night before, when he picked up the supplies.
"Okay." Donatello nodded, relived to hear that his father was all right. "But just in case it's not food poisoning, you two should probably keep your distance from him. At least until we know for sure."
"An' when's that?" Raph asked, impatiently.
"We'll know for certain if Mikey pukes," Don said, causing the three to turn and look at Michelangelo on the floor.
Mike smiled nervously as he felt his stomach come to life, suppressing the feeling for the sake of his survival. If he threw up - his brothers would go berserk on him.
An hour later, Leo was back in front of the toilet, throwing up whatever he had left inside of him. Raph sat occupied on the couch, while Mikey still sat on his 'Spiderman' pillow in front of the TV. His stomach cramps came and went every few minutes, and every time either of his brothers went to the bathroom to throw up, his own need to barf became even greater. But for the safety of his own neck, Mike had to suppress the urge to vomit and sit on the floor as if nothing was wrong, something that was particularly hard when the oldest turtle was in the bathroom; making hulking sounds.
Raphael, with his blanket rolled up around him, making him look like a caterpillar, looked up from the couch as Leo exited the bathroom. "How'd it go?"
"I don't think there's much left in my stomach anymore.." Leo mumbled, his forehead dropping with sweat.
"Yeah?" Raphael feverishly lit up. "Ye got ta the part where there's juz this weird mucus comin' outta ya when ya barf?" he wondered, leaving room for his older brother as he sat down.
Michelangelo felt his stomach turn at his brothers' discussion. People exchanging their upchucking experiences wasn't really what he needed when he tried to hold his food down.
"Yeah... kind of bubbly," Leo confirmed with a tired nod as he reached for his brown blanket and pulled it around himself. "Although there was still some rice left," he added and turned to Raphael. "Not that it looked much like rice anymore."
That sentence was too much for Mikey to handle and he uncontrollably retched onto the platform floor, the vomit shooting out of his mouth like a catapult. He quickly clutched his mouth with his hands, in an attempt to stop the next load that swirled in his stomach. Leonardo and Raph instantly turned their attention to their youngest sibling, taking in the image of his recent work.
"My floor!" Leo shrieked, grabbing onto his head in despair. "You've ruined my floor!"
"An' ye poisoned us!" Raphael added, angrily boring his eyes into Mikey's.
Mike however had more urgent things to attend to and flew up from the floor, his hand covering his mouth as he ran across the living room to the bathroom carriage. Unfortunately he didn't make it there in time and emptied parts of his lunch on the bathroom floor.
Raphael's superpower-ears immediately picked up on the sound and rose from the couch, stumbling towards the bathroom with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "MIKEY!" he roared as he discovered the mess on the floor; pieces of chicken along with rice and a puddle of unidentified fluid, possibly milk mixed with stomach acid. "I'll fuckin' snap yer neck!"
Donatello, who had been in his room; working with his soon to be TV, left his sub-car and hurried up to Raph, holding his arms from behind him to keep him from hurling at Mikey. "Calm down, Raph!" Don urged, locking his hot headed brother's arms behind his shell.
"Calm down!" Raph outburst, trying to break free from his younger brother's grip. "Look what he's done ta the bathroom! I swear I'll kill 'im!"
"Not without stepping in his vomit, you won't," Don pointed out, finally earning Raph's attention.
The furious turtle calmed down a bit, the smell from the puddle in front of him bringing him back to reality. He pulled himself away from Donatello and went back to the couch, angrily sitting down next to Leo, who had a mute look on his face. "What?" Raph snapped, turning to look at his blue masked brother.
Leo quickly held up his hands in defence, proving that he didn't want to fight. It was enough for Raphael to leave him alone and turn back to the television, where some shampoo commercial was on.
Donatello carefully picked up the blanket Raph had dropped in the turmoil, not making any more contact with the fabric than what was necessary. After all, there could be vomit germs all over it, which was the reason Don hadn't used the bathroom yet, even though his bladder had been pushing ever since he woke up. He left Mikey alone to his upchucking business and walked over to his other siblings, dropping the blanket onto Raph's lap from behind the back of the couch.
"You dropped this," he said, quickly wiping off his hands on his thighs, just in case he had been infected.
Raph clutched the blanket and pulled it around him, trying to make himself comfortable on the couch, as his fever started to kick in again, from the sudden tantrum he had.
Don silently went to kitchen to wash his hands clean. But even as he passed his two siblings on the way back to his room, he still brushed his hands against his thighs. Just to make sure he wouldn't be infected.
Not long after that, Mikey came out from the bathroom, carrying a bucket of water in his right grip.
"Oh ye betta' clean up in there!" Raph threatened, glaring with his feverish eyes.
"I did," Mike replied, bending down to wipe up the mess he left on the living room floor. After he was done he went back inside the bathroom to empty the bucket in the toilet.
Donnie came out into the living room, a medical encyclopaedia held open in his hands. "You might wanna listen to this," he said, earning his brothers' attention.
Mikey soon came out of the bathroom, sitting back down on his pillow, sensing his brothers didn't want him on the couch with them.
"Ya gonna diagnose us?" Raph said pessimistically, pulling his blanket closer around him.
Donatello ignored Raphael's comment and rested his eyes on a particular paragraph of the text. "Food poisoning is the result of eating organisms or toxins in contaminated food. Most cases of food poisoning are from common bacteria like Staphylococcus or E. coli." He glanced up at his brothers, whom he'd lost at the first medical term. Ignoring this, he looked down on the page and continued reading. "At least one out of five Americans suffer food poisoning each year, and over nine thousand deaths are reported as a result."
"I'm gonna die?" Mikey shrieked, frantically checking his forehead temperature.
Leo sighed and gestured for Don to go on.
"Food usually becomes contaminated with these agents from poor sanitation or preparation. Food handlers who do not wash their hands after using the bathroom or have infections themselves often cause contamination. Improperly packaged food stored at the wrong temperature also promotes contamination."
Leonardo and Raphael turned to look at Mikey. "Ye didn't wash yer hands, pinhead?" Raph growled, angrily squinting his eyes.
"I did too," Mike defended himself. "It's not my fault the food dudes aren't sanitary."
"Wait," Don said, holding up his index finger while still looking at the open page in the book. "I think this is it," he told them, pointing his finger at a certain part in the text, sliding it across the page while reading. "Staphylococcal food poisoning: Staphylococcus aureus survives when refrigerated, although it does not multiply. The bacteria is destroyed by pasteurisation of milk and cooking of food, but the toxin may survive these processes. The main foods associated with illness are cooked meats, poultry and foods which are handled during preparation without subsequent cooking."
"So what does that mean?" Raph asked, the others looking just as confused as he felt.
Don shook his head in disbelief, wondering why there weren't any bright crayons in their box apart from himself. "It means that Mikey probably didn't boil the chicken long enough for the bacteria to die."
The three turtles turned their attention to the youngest family member, sitting on top of his 'Spiderman' pillow.
"Oh," Mikey realized, blushing slightly at the news. "Sorry, dudes," he sheepishly apologized.
Donatello returned his focus to the book and continued to read. "This type of food poisoning is associated with abdominal cramps, fever, vomiting and diarrhea. Symptoms can appear between two to about six hours after eating food contaminated with an enterotoxin formed by the staph bacteria."
"Wait?" Leo interrupted, a worried look on his face. "Dia-rrhea?" he repeated, his features twisting in fear. The other two infected worriedly rubbed their stomachs, fearing what was to come.
"Yeah," Donnie confirmed, his face lowered to the book. "And it says here that the only cure is lots and lots of water, to avoid dehydration and that it should pass on its own in a couple of days. Oh!" he added, pointing at the page. "And drinking milk will only worsen the diarrhea. And you shouldn't have dairy products or anything solid until it's passed." With that explained, Don closed up the book, looking at his siblings.
"Soo..." Raph trailed, a blank look in his face. "In English that means...?"
"Basically," Don answered, this time speaking in small words so his brothers would understand. "Drink lots of water, don't eat anything you have to chew and stay as far away from me as possible."
"Wait.." Mikey reacted to the last part and pointed at the book. "It didn't say that."
"No," Don agreed. "But I am. I don't want diarrhea and stomach cramps."
"But I thought food poisonin' didn't catch?" Raph interjected, looking at Leo for support.
"It doesn't," Donatello confirmed. "But there's always a chance it's not food poisoning, so just keep your distance. Because I don't want any part of this disease." He felt his bladder waking up again, having cooled down when he'd been reading.
"So what about the bathroom?" Leo wondered, knowing that if there were any bacteria anywhere, that would be the place.
"Yeah," Mikey agreed, smiling tiredly. "Are ya putting your number one's and two's on strike?" The three upchuckers sniggered evilly.
"Maybe.." Don said, feeling like he wanted to cross his legs together to strangle his bladder.
Donatello sat in his room, trying to ignore his need to go pee by soldering together some wires inside the TV set he found on the junkyard a few days earlier. However, his urge grew stronger and his focus thinner, until a sudden voice at the door jinxed his concentration.
"Donnie?"
Don dropped the soldering-iron onto his thumb, burning a nice little mark into his green skin. "Ow!" Don shrieked, sticking his thumb in his mouth and looking up at the doorway. "What is it?" he asked, causing Michelangelo to take a step inside the room.
"Noo!" Don screamed, holding out his arms to stop Mike.
Mikey froze in shock, afraid he was about to step on something important. "What?" he asked, his foot hovering above the ground, while at the sime time trying to hold onto the blanket that threatened to slid off his shoulders.
"Don't touch anything!" Don said, getting up from his desk chair. "I don't wanna get sick!"
Mikey instantly relaxed, putting his food down onto the floor. "Geez, Don. I thought I was gonna kill something." He pulled the blanket closer around himself.
"No!" Don forbid, waving with his arms in panic. "Get out, get out! No touching!"
"Okay, okay, bro," Mikey said, holding upa hand to prove that he meant no harm. "Take it easy. I was just gonna ask you where you put the orange juice."
"Fine, I'll show you," Donnie promised, walking up to leave the sub-car. "Just don't touch anything."
Mikey left the carriage with Donatello walking a safe distance behind him, earning an odd look from the other two turtles as they went by them on their way to the kitchen. Don carefully passed Michelangelo in a wide half circle, keeping his arms at his sides to avoid touching. When standing by the kitchen cabinets, he hesitantly opened the larder, while keeping an eye on his sick brother.
"Here," Donnie said, holding out the tiny box of concentrated orange juice.
Mikey, being the clown he was, couldn't of course help himself from messing with his brother and evilly greased his fingers across Don's hand as he reached out to grab the juice. "Germs, germs!" he taunted, before Don quickly pulled back his hand and stared at it as if was a roadkilled squirrel, completely freaked out.
"Mikey!" Don squealed, holding his hand a safe distance from himself. "You little fiend!" He quickly rushed up to the sink to wash himself clean, obsessively scrubbing his hand with washing-up liquid. "What if I get sick?" he glanced at Mikey before turning the water a little hotter to be on the safe side.
"C'mon, dude," Mikey waved him off, holding onto his blanket with his other hand. "I was only messing with ya."
"Yeah well, from now on - don't," Don said firmly, almost burning his hand under the hot water.
Mikey only smiled as he reached inside one of the cupboards for a pitcher to blend the juice in.
After had been watching infomercial for forty five minutes, Raph felt it was time to sacrifice some more food to the porcelain God. He took off his blanket and rose from the couch, stepping over Michelangelo's legs that rested on the coffee table, from where he sat in Splinter's chair. After the fever had gotten to him, Leo and Raph finally made it clear for him to come off the floor, although they didn't want him snuggled up next to them on the couch, so naturally he got the chair.
The sick turtle got a hot flash from standing up and stumbled towards the bathroom. As he entered the sub-car and got down on his knees in front of the toilet, he tiredly laid his head on the porcelain ring, waiting for his stomach muscles to do the job. When lying there, his eyes resting on the bathroom floor, he spotted drops of vomit around the toilet seat, causing his blood to boil.
"The hell?" he muttered, lifting his head to yell over his shoulder. "Ya could at least honk in the toilet!" he called to the others, before putting his tired head back down. Although, lying there in wait, he realized his body wanted to do something else, as he felt a worrying sensation taking form at the other end of his body.
Diarrhea, Raph fearfully realized, recalling the nasty diagnose Don had given them. He quickly got up from the floor and pulled the plastic ring down, seating himself for the job.
"Would you hurry up in there!" Leo's voice yelled from the living room. "I think I'm gonna be sick again!"
"Ya juz wait yer turn, a'right!" Raphael called back, instantly regretting he hadn't had enough time to close the door. "Geez.." he muttered to himself, realizing there weren't enough room in his family to even suffer the woes of food poisoning in peace.
Donatello still sat in his room, trying to figure out which wire in the TV set that wasn't working. Although the tickling feeling in his bladder didn't do much to help. He had even aborted his work a couple of times; getting up from his chair to do a little can't-pee-my-shell dance around the room. But he felt like his bladder was only growing bigger and he feared another dance would only open the gates. He persistently put one of his legs over the other, closing them together tightly to make the feeling go away.
But it was getting harder.
Only, he couldn't go to the bathroom. He just couldn't.
Because while sitting there in his room, abusing his bladder, he had pictured so many places showered with bacteria. Not just the toilet. So even if he washed his hands with acid, which in spite of his high intelligence had crossed his mind a couple of times, he wouldn't come out safe.
It was too big of a risk to go in there.
However, his bladder told him otherwise, creeping closer to the emergency exit of his body.
At the same time in the living room, the three Blanketeers (blanket-teers) were on their second hour of infomercial shopping. Mikey had actually liked the teeth whitening set, that brightened your teeth in the miraculous time of thirty seconds. But he had quickly been overpowered by his two brothers when he'd gotten up from his chair to dial to phone number on the screen.
Now, they were watching a commercial about loosing weight by using this machine that had you doing exercises lying down on the floor. Basically, sit-ups, only this time you had to pay the incredible price of thirty nine dollars and ninety nine cents. And not only that! But if you called within thetime of ten minutes, then you also got this video tape, instructing you how to run a mile in your own living room. And the best part was! It was all small enough to fit right under your bed!
"How are you feeling, my sons?"
The three fever-struck turtles turned their heads from the hypnotizing television to their Sensei, who had dared himself out of his room, in spite of Donatello's paranoid warnings about how the terrible disease was gonna get them all!
"Not so good," Mikey said, instantly going into near-death mode, as his father was present. "I feel like I'm burning up. And my stomach's cramping all the time." He pulled out his hands from underneath his blanket and clutched his plastron for a more powerful effect.
Splinter gave his youngest son a comforting smile, although he could easily see through his fake act. "Where is Donatello?" he asked and turned to his other two sons on the couch.
Just as Leo was about to answer, the doors to Don's sub-car flew open, with Donatello himself bursting out of there. With his hands pressed to his groin he sprinted past them, his panicked legs moving rather oddly, making him look like a scared pansy.
Donnie quickly climbed the exit ladder, leaving his family flabbergasted behind him, as he rushed down a sewer tunnel to finally do what his bladder had been begging for ever since he woke up - pee-pee.