Thank you, Kar, Artykidd, Aaron Smiley, Sassyblonde, Cynlee, Reluctant Dragon, and Reinbeauchaser! Still hanging in there, huh? I'm glad that the last author's note helped. I haven't seen Ms. S s s 979 in a while, Sassy. Maybe if you see R-Turtleninja-R around you can ask her. Hrm… Aaron? If you have trouble finding pawn shops that accept children, there is a more, um, messy alternative. Kids fetch a nice price when sold by the pound. ;P Reinbeauchaser, I'm so sorry I was updating late in the day, you see, I work two jobs. Often times my only chance to write comes at weird hours of the night.

ANYWAYS… Onwards!

Attempt Number 004:

Mary Sue desperately needed to get to New York City. The Big Apple beckoned her and pulled at her soul! She had read the course of her life in the heavens: stars shining and smiling at her. Through her psychic connection with the constellations, the stars danced and flitted through her consciousness, whispering of the joys she would know when she set foot within the New York City limits. She spoke to them, pleading for more guidance. They answered with the song of the night sky: twinkling, spiraling, and chanting her name. Hauntingly, the refrain called to her, and she joined her crystal tones with the choir of constellations. Her voice rang out—beyond compare with any other singing voice in the world. It made the stars weep and birds follow her. Even the winds would calm to better hear her liquid cascade of notes. She and the stars, together in perfect harmony!

A dockworker found a mumbling Mary Sue in the cargo hold of a freight ship harbored in New York City. She had stowed away and was delirious with dehydration from 6 days at sea. He called an ambulance, but it was far too late. Mary Sue died as a shriveled 'Jane Doe' in a NYC hospital.

Attempt Number 004: FAILURE

Lesson Number 004: Always pack potable water for sea travel.

Meanwhile, back in the lair…

Raphael looked both ways out the kitchen door. Nothing stirred along the hallway. Keyboard clacking ticked faintly from Donatello's lab. The rapid-fire thuds from the dojo meant that Leo was working the speed bag. Raphael heard nothing to locate Splinter by, but since his sensei shouldn't give him any trouble, he ducked back into the kitchen and retrieved his precious cargo.

Michaelangelo squinted through crusted eyes at the light shining in through his doorway. The box of Kleenex on his bedside table blocked his view and he ached too much to sit up. "Who'sz dere?"

Raph shut the door behind him with his foot. A small candle on the tray brought gentle illumination to the room. "C'mon. Let's getcha sittin' up, Mike."

From the bed, Mike moaned. "I can'd sid up. By blankedsz weigh dwelve donsz. Each." Speaking cost him, and he was wracked with a coughing fit. Raph set the tray down out of the way and waded through the clutter on Mike's floor towards the bed. "Besidesz," Michaelangelo sniffled, "Donnie saidh I wasz under quarandine."

Raphael shrugged. "First off. Donatello kin stuff it. You never left me ta sleep peacefully when I was sick. Thinka this as returnin' the favor." He took hold of Mike's armpits and pulled him upright. Raphael moved the pillows so that they kept his brother that way. "Second, If I let Don an' Leo cook fer yah, you'd be dead within the hour." Satisfied that Mike would not slip back down, Raphael turned and brought over the tray.

Mike's eyes widened. "Raph! I didn'd dink you couldh cookg—nob for real!"

Raphael rolled his eyes. "How hard kin readin' a recipe BE, Mike? Now, shut up an' eat."

"Bud… disz soup… id's an all day recipe. Id dakesz hoursz!" Michaelangelo stared at his brother hard. Raphael had been replaced by a pod person.

"Mike. Shut UP. EAT. An' if you tell a SOUL that I cooked anythin' but RAMEN fer you, I'll break yer face."

Mike smiled at his brother over the soup bowl, much relieved. He spooned carrots and beef cubes into his mouth. "Righd. Disz isz Ramen. Sdupid of me."

"Damn right, stupid of you. Don't you know ramen when you see it?" A hint of a smile quirked the corners of Raphael's mouth. Mikey understood. Good. Raph turned to leave the room, "Oh. An' I left all the dishes an' stuff fer you ta wash when yer better."

Mikey scowled into his soup. This Raphael was definitely his brother. "…danksz, Raph…"