Chapter 11 - "What's that smell?"
Michelangelo brought out the cutting board from one of the bottom kitchen drawers and placed it on the counter, sighing as a stern Leonardo approached from behind him and peered over his shoulder.
"You're not gonna prepare the food on that, are you?" Leo questioned, still scarred from the food poisoning six days ago.
"Well.." Mike trailed, taking a step to the left to get some distance between him and his big brother. "Yeah, I kinda am. Why?"
Leo grunted in disapproval, casting a glance at Raphael who stood leaned against the dining table. "Haven't you listened to anything we've told you? Always. Wash. The cutting board," Leo ranted, repeatedly slamming his hand into his palm to emphasize his point.
"Fine," Mikey caved, taking three annoyed steps to the sink to turn on the water. "I don't see why you have to be on my back about it. I said I was sorry!"
"Yeah well, that didn't do much for me when I was barfin' from both ends," Raphael sneered, crossing his arms at the memory. "An' not only did I hafta spend two days with my head down the toilet - I had ta wait in line ta even get in there! So s'cuse us for making ya clean the kitchen supplies!"
"Exactly," Leo stepped in, nodding his head in agreement. "We're not taking any more chances when it comes to you and your cooking. Did you know that there are far more bacteria in the kitchen than what there is in the bathroom? And that most of the germs hide in the dish towels? I mean, only by being cautious when you're cooking, you're improving you're chances of not getting sick by eighty-five percent." Leo finished, practically quoting the book 'Where the germs hide', which he'd borrowed from Donatello to read when he was sick.
Mike shook his head as he scrubbed the plastic board in the sink, once in a while saying something like 'you don't say' or 'who knew?' to make Leo think he was listening to his speech.
"I read about this research where they checked an average family's kitchen for five days, only to find that it was heavily contaminated. But," Leo said, holding up his index finger. "On the sixth day, the bacteria count had dropped to practically nothing. Do you know why?" He asked and turned to Raphael, who only sent him a 'If you think I'll answer that, you're dumber than I thought' look.
Leo turned the question to Mikey, realizing Raph wasn't interested in his book. Especially not after he'd read it out loud to him when they had shared the living room couch during the bathroom plague. "Mikey? Do you know why?"
"How interesting," Mike mumbled, totally unaware of the fact the Leo had asked him a question.
"Mikey?" Leo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"
"That's so fascinating," Mike said, completely clueless to Leonardo's question.
"Mikey!" Leo snapped, causing Mike to jump in fright. "You haven't heard a word I've said. When are you ever going to learn from your mistakes?" Leo scolded, moving on to another speech.
Mike secretly imitated his brother's ranting, making nagging faces while washing the cutting board.
"...and for you to actually complain when we're supervising you in the kitchen," Leo continued, talking to deaf ears. "When you clearly haven't learned anything from all of this for us to trust you.." Leo paused, noticing Raphael grinning in the corner of his eye. He sent a questioning look his red clad brother's way, who only pointed at Mikey in response. Leo soon understood what had been so funny.
"Would you stop that!" Leo snapped, putting his hands on his hips in disapproval.
Mike turned off the tap and turned back to his brothers with an innocent smile on his face. "What?" he asked, acting like he had no idea what Leonardo was talking about.
"Do you think I'm stupid or something?" Leo asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"Leo," Raph said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Neva' leave yerself open like that."
Leonardo frowned, turning back to Mikey to continue where he left off, but doing so he noticed the clock on the wall. "Oh no," he said, tensing a little. "I'm gonna be late."
"For what?" Raphael wondered, getting up from his leaned in position.
"For meeting April," Leo explained, turning around to his brother in a hurry. "I have to go," he said and rushed to leave the kitchen. But then he remembered something and turned around in the doorway, looking at the red masked turtle. "Will you make sure Donnie cover for me?"
"Sure," Raph nodded. "I'll go get 'im." With that, the two oldest brothers left the kitchen; Leo heading out the entrance while Raphael stomped off for reinforcement. A few moments later, he came back inside the kitchen with Donatello walking behind him.
"Have you washed those?" Don asked as he noticed Mike by the counter, preparing to chop up the sweet pepper.
"Yes," Mike said, cutting the green vegetable on the middle. "And I've washed the board," he continued. "And my hands," he added, as Donatello was about to ask him.
"Good," Donnie approved, stepping up next to him, while Raphael leaned back against the dining table again. "So what are you preparing?" he wondered, looking at the vegetables on the counter.
"Tacos," Michelangelo answered, chopping up the sweet pepper like one would chop wood.
Don opened one of the bottom cabinets for a cooking book, looking up the recipe in question. He carefully looked over the page before turning back to Mikey. "It says here that you should start with the minced meat," he explained and pointed to the open page in the book.
"Dude, I don't think it matters," Mike shrugged, chopping up a cucumber.
"Dude," Donnie echoed, imitating his younger brother. "I think it does. Turn on the stove and get the frying pan," he ordered, making sure his little brother followed the recipe properly.
"Fine," Mikey sighed and put down the kitchen knife. He went over to one of the bottom cabinets and got the frying pan, which he placed on top of the stove. When waiting for the pan to heat up, Raphael suggested he could clean up in the kitchen.
Mike obeyed and went over to the sink to fetch the wash towel, turning on the tap to drench it.
"Wait," Don said, holding out a hand to stop his brother. "Do you know the amount of bacteria that resides in that thing?" he questioned, earning a sigh from both of his brothers.
"Seriously," Raphael grunted. "We've already had Leo quoting that stupid book. I ain't puttin' up with you, too."
"Well, he was right," Donatello insisted, carefully grabbing the wash cloth from Michelangelo, holing it in between his thumb and index finger. "If you wanna be sure there aren't any bacteria left," he continued, walking through the kitchen sub-car. "You have to microwave it." He put the towel in their microwave and set the time on thirty seconds, explaining the importance of ridding the kitchen of all the evil germs while waiting for the thirty seconds to pass. Once done, the machine beeped and Don brought out a very hot, yet very healthy dish cloth. He handed it back to Mikey, along with his blessing to use it.
"Finally," Mike said impatiently, drenching the cloth before cleaning the sink and counter. When he was finished, the frying pan was hot enough to use, so after being strictly reminded to wash his hands by his two older brothers, he dumped the minced meat into the pan, stirring it up with a wooden fork, one that Don had insisted they'd microwave.
When Mike was frying up the meat and playing with the giant fork in the frying pan, Donatello and Raphael had him under close surveillance, studying the meat closely.
"There's still a spot there that isn't done," Donnie said, pointing at a certain part of the meat that didn't look as brown as the rest of it.
Mike pressed it down to the surface of the pan with his fork, rolling his eyes at his brother's remark.
"What about that?" Raph added, pointing at another part that was still red a raw.
"Y'know," Mike said, drying off his greasy forehead with the back of his left hand. "You've been babysitting my cooking for days now. I think I'll be able to take it from here."
"NO!" His brothers forbid in unison.
Leonardo wandered through the damp tunnels with April strolling next to him. Usually she didn't need escort when visiting them. Because at night when her visits usually took place, there weren't that many people around - meaning; she could take a different way. But during the day she had to sneak down the sewers through an alley, where the manhole cover was much to heavy for her to budge. Therefor Leo met her in that alley to help her with the lifting.
They had been walking for twenty minutes and weren't that far away from the lair when April suddenly stopped, twisting her face in disgust. "What's that smell?" she asked, sniffing loudly to identify it.
"What smell?" Leonardo asked, his sense of smell a little off since after he got sick.
"You don't smell that?" April wondered, looking at Leo, who only shook his head in response. "It smells... funny," she said, trying to describe it to him.
"Well," Leo said, giving up on trying to smell it. "We're in the sewers. This place isn't exactly known for smelling like roses."
April playfully slapped him on the arm, making a face at him. "I know that, Leo," she said, sniffing the air once again. "But this... this smells different. Worse." She walked further down the tunnel, trying to make out where the stench was coming from. She made a right turn into another tunnel and stopped in her tracks. "Um.. Leo?" she called after him, covering her nose in disgust.
"What?" Leo wondered, walking after her. " What is it?" When arriving in the tunnel next to her, his face fell. There was a huge mountain of garbage bags on the side of the tunnel, some of the bags about to fall into the water.
"I can't believe how careless people can be," April mumbled, still pinching her nose.
"I know," Leo agreed, walking up to the pile to inspect it further. "Who would actually come down here and dump all of this?" he wondered, stopping right in front of the mountain. His eyes travelled over the see-through bags, inspecting the thrash inside them.
Milk cartons, an empty tube of tooth paste, paper towels, kitty litter...
Leo stopped in his thoughts, knowing where he had seen the last thing on the list. And coming to think of it, the rest of the trash seemed just as familiar.
"This is our garbage," he realized, taking a step back and turning around to April.
"What?" April questioned, her eyebrows rising in confusion. "But I thought Donnie took care of your garbage..?"
Leo's face twisted in anger, a bitter realization hitting him. "So did I.." he growled, stomping out of the tunnel.
"I can't believe he would actually dump all our trash in the sewer," Leo said, climbing down the exit ladder to the lair.
"Well, it doesn't really sound like something he'd do," April agreed, climbing down after him. "Just don't tell anything to Splinter until you've talked to Donnie about it first," she said, jumping off the ladder. "There might be a reasonable explanation for all of this."
"Yeah," Leo replied, shaking his head as he descended the stairway leading down to the platform. "He's too lazy to go to the dump."
"Well, maybe there's another reason," April insisted, following behind him. "Just don't rat on him until you've at least talked to him," she said, putting a hand on his upper arm to stop him.
Leo stopped at the bottom of the steps, letting out a deep breath. "Fine," he surrendered. "I won't say anything until I've asked Don about it."
April smiled, patting him on the arm. Then, as she followed down the steps after him, she noticed the number of dead leaves underneath the plant at the bottom of the steps. "What happened to that?" she asked, pointing at the not-so-green plant.
"Hmm?" Leo questioned, turning around to look at her. "Oh, that," he realized when spotting the plant. "Yeah, that's Mikey's doing. He's been watering the plants."
"He's been playing hooky, huh?" April said, biting her lip at the thought.
"No actually, he's been a little too enthusiastic with the flowers," Leonardo explained.
"Oh," April said, not really knowing what to say.
"So, are you ready for lunch?" Leo asked, smiling a little. "Mikey made tacos. Normally I wouldn't eat anything he cooked, but I think it's safe this time," he said, walking off towards the kitchen sub-car.
"This time?" April questioned, worriedly walking after him.
Mikey led April to the empty seat at the table, pulling out the chair for her.
"Thank you," April said, sitting down with his assistance, smiling at Raphael across from her. "So I heard you made tacos?" She turned back to Mike, who brought the hot taco shells out of the microwave and put them on the table, with the rest of the food.
"Yeah," Michelangelo confirmed, taking the seat in between Donatello and April. "There's nothing like tacos for Sunday lunch," he said as he reached across the table for a shell.
"We have to wait for Master Splinter," Leo scolded, staring at Mike from across the table.
"Right.." Mike agreed, dropping the shell back among the rest of them. He brought his hands back to himself and rested his eyes on the food, rolling his thumbs in anticipation.
Luckily he didn't have to wait that long, for only a few seconds later the old rat entered the kitchen, carrying another dead plant in his hand. One that only had five leaves left, including the one that fell onto the kitchen floor as he carried it. Splinter bent over to pick up the yellow leaf and got back up on his feet; leaning on his cane. He walked up to the trash cabinet and dropped his dear plant into the trash bin, sadly closing the cupboard after him.
Leo looked apologetically at his father, knowing how much his flowers meant to him. "I'm sorry, Master," he said, pulling out the chair next to him for his mentor to sit.
"So am I," Splinter replied, leaning his cane against the table and seating himself.
"How many are there left?" Donatello wondered, trying to remember how many flowers he had thrown out.
"That was the fifth one," Splinter replied, looking from his son to the set dining table. "Ah, and what do you call this meal?" he asked curiously.
"They're tacos," Michelangelo answered with a broad smile, happy to be changing the subject from his flower murdering spree. "Or as I'd like to call it - Tacos a' la Mikey. Dig in," he said, holding out the plate of taco shells to his father.
Splinter nodded and accepted a shell, looking at it with great confusion as the rest of them served themselves. "And how exactly do you have this meal?" he wondered, still holding the yellow shell in his paw.
"Oh.." Mike realized, looking back at his Sensei. "Well, first you pick out the things you wanna fill it with. In my case lots and lots of meat," he said as he dumped several spoons of minced meat onto his shell, a lot of it falling down onto his plate. "Also, you can't have tacos without sweet pepper," he added, stuffing the shell with different kinds of paprika. After Michelangelo was done with his highly overpopulated shell, he bit into it; the vegetables dropping onto his plate and the grease sliding down his arms. "And that's how you do it," he finished, cucumber bits spitting out from his crowded mouth.
Splinter nodded slightly, staring at his pig of a son.
"Here, Master," Leo said, offering a hand to his father. "I'll help you." Splinter handed his taco to his oldest son and allowed him to pick out the things he thought he wanted, handing back a perfectly filled shell.
"Thank you," Splinter said, nodding in appreciation.
"So," April said, after she had swallowed a mouthful of tacos. "How's it been going with the chores?"
A strange silence fell over the dining table, each turtle looking down at their plate.
"What?" April questioned, the shell gripped in her right hand. "Did something happen?" Her eyes darted in between her friends.
"Let's just say you're very lucky Raph and I supervised Mikey when he made lunch," Donatello finally answered, Leo and Raphael nodding in agreement.
"What?" April asked, not knowing about the little chicken incident. "What are you talking about?"
"Mike food poisoned us," Raph revealed, causing April to drop her taco in fright.
"He did what?" she questioned, turning to look at the turtle in question. "You did?"
"Well, it's not like I did it on purpose," Mike defended himself. "According to some book Leo's been reading, it's very common with chicken."
"Well yeah," Leo agreed, knowing the book by heart. "But even so you won't be doing anything alone in this kitchen. I'm not going through that horrible experience again - ever."
"Amen," Don agreed, filling up another tacos shell.
Raphael pessimistically turned to Donatello. "You weren't even sick," he pointed out.
"Well... yeah." Donnie nodded, looking up at his friends. "Nevertheless I'm not living through it again. I didn't even dare myself to go to the bathroom until yesterday."
"Wait," Mikey interrupted, his mouth stuffed with food. "If you didn't go to the bathroom, where did ya do your number one's and two--" He suddenly stopped, realizing something to himself. "Eiuuu!" he whined, dropping his taco in disgust. "You crapped in the sewers?"
Donnie's green face turned a deeper shade, looking down in embarrassment.
"Dude, remind me to never go out there again," Mikey said, his face twisting in disgust.
Once talking about the sewer and the things that hid out there, Leonardo remembered the mountain of garbage he and April found, not that far from the den. He angrily glared at his brother in purple, who looked up when his face had returned to its natural color. He noticed his oldest brother staring at him and instantly grew worried because of it.
"Leo?" Donnie asked, lifting up his glass of milk to drink. "What's the matter?"
Leo caught April's glance from the other side of the table, knowing what he promised. "Nothing," he mumbled and looked down to his plate.
Don shared a confused look with Michelangelo, who only shrugged his shoulders in response. He put his glass back down and turned back to the Fearless leader. "Leo, if you're mad at me about something, you can tell me," he insisted, searching eye contact with his oldest brother, who did his best to ignore him. "Did I do something?" he continued, searching for his brother's lowered eyes.
"Leonardo," Splinter said, putting down his taco to the plate. "If you are upset with your brother in some way, please tell him."
The turtle in blue looked up at his mentor sitting on his left, contemplating on what to do.
"Leo?" Donnie pushed, a look of pure innocence on his face, one that only infuriated the oldest turtle. Because he knew his brother was anything but innocent.
"Why did you dump all our garbage down one of the tunnels?"
There was a number of gasps heard at the table, everyone turning to look at the recently busted turtle.
"Is this true, Donatello?" Splinter asked, boring his eyes into his son.
"Um... well.." Donnie stuttered, not sure on how to explain himself. "Yeah... sort of.. kinda is."
Leo started at his brother, not letting him off the hook. "Did you or did you not dump the garbage there?" he asked, folding his hands in front of him on the table.
"Okay I did," Donnie admitted, worriedly glancing at his master. "I'm sorry."
Splinter sighed. "My son," he said, earning Don's attention. "I am sure you know the importance of keeping our environment clean, even if it is the sewers. With such careless behaviour comes disease and sickness."
"I know," Don replied, looking incredibly shameful. "It's just... I was so tired of walking back and forth to the city dump. I know I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry." He lowered his head in shame.
"I understand that you got tired, my son," the old rat said, never taking his eyes off of Donatello. "But you must also remember that the easy way isn't always as simple as it might appear."
Don looked questioningly at his father, not quite understanding what he was talking about.
"After you have finished eating, you will clean up the tunnel and move the waste to where it belongs," the rat finished, his voice still very calm.
"Yes, Master," Donatello obeyed, bowing his head. After that, only silence followed. Everyone at the table secretly glanced at each other while no one really new what to say.
"Can I go?" Raphael suddenly asked, leaning over the table to be able to look at Splinter who sat on the other side of Leonardo.
"Have you finished your lunch?" he old ninja master asked, looking at his red masked son.
"Yeah," Raph said, holding out his empty plate to prove it.
"Then you may leave," Splinter decided, watching his son put the plate in the sink and leave the sub-car.
While the other still sat in the kitchen, Raphael took advantage of the television, which for once was available. He took the remote from the coffee table at slumped down onto the couch, clicking on the TV while resting his other arm behind his head. He quickly scanned the channels for any good Sunday-television, but after deciding against reality TV-reruns and a very disturbing documentary about wild turtles during the mating season, he decided to turn to an old movie.
He got up from the couch to pick out a movie to watch, his eyes travelling across the many cases of their VHS collection.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, the small talk had carefully started to build up again, until it finally resembled somewhat of a conversation.
"...and that's when we figured it was food poisoning," Leo finished and looked at Michelangelo, having skipped the less attractive details of the story.
"Wow," April breathed, still a little grossed out in spite of Leo's discreteness. "Looks like you've had a busy week down here."
"To say the least," Donnie said, fiddling with his empty plate, knowing he had to play garbage man soon.
"So..." April trailed, looking at her friends. "I'm taking it the chores aren't going so well..."
The group froze as a furious voice ripped through their home, the source of it still in the linving room.
"YA DIDN'T REWIND THE TAPES! OH, YA BETTA' START RUNNIN', MIKEY!"
Splinter tiredly put his glass down by his plate, looking up at the reporter across the table, "One might say that..."