Donatello returns with a few slices of pizza. "I'm back." "Yay. The giant turtle has returned." "We're mutants… and, if you want the food, you shouldn't sass me." "I'm sarcastic. I'm not good at sass." Tori rolls her eyes. "You could also call it brutal honesty." The turtle places the plate of food on a table. "You seem to be doing a good job of it." "Why, thank you, Don." The turtle looks at her. "Don?" "Yeah. What do you think of it?" The turtle thinks. "I like it. It makes me sound tough." "Donnie it is then." She snickered as the turtle let out a frustrated groan. "I could let Raph take care of you." Donnie threatens. "Oh, I'm shaking in my boots." Tori scowls. "I ain't scared of him." Donnie hands her a plate of pizza… that she can't eat on her own being tied to a chair and all. "You haven't met Raph."
Of course I haven't met the hot head. "It's kind of hard to miss him." She looks at the pizza. Could I get a little help with this?" Donatello looks at her. "You could eat it yourself if you tell us what we want to know." If I have to be fed, at least it's by a mutant turtle. Tori opened her mouth, trying to ignore her wounded pride. The turtle eyed her, and left.
"Wonder where he ran of to." Tori muttered bitter that she still wouldn't be able to eat. She didn't get far into her little pity party before a different turtle walked into the lab, and picked up the chair and hauled it into the living room. The pizza still steaming on her lap. The orange banded turtle grabbed the plate. "You hungry?" "Yeah." "You want me to feed you?" Tori looks down, not wanting to submit to being taken care of. Her stomach answers for her. She glares at her middle, cursing it's timing. "Okay. Just sit tight. I'll be right back with something better.
Michelangelo runs off, and Tori sits. There's nothing else to do, so she thinks. She had been… wherever she was, for about two hours. Her father was bound to be furious. Not that he ever wasn't.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the turtle bounding toward her with a steaming bowl. He takes the spoon in his three fingers. "Say ahh~." Tori rolls her eyes, and opens her mouth. The spoon is placed in her mouth. She swallows it's contents. A sigh is heard as a warm feeling envelops her stomach. "That's good. What is it?" "Pizza noodle soup." Michelangelo happily replies. Tori balks. "Pizza noodle soup? Where do you get an idea like that?" "I like pizza, and chicken noodle soup, so I thought it would be good." He feeds her another bite. Moral of the story, don't accept strange food from giant turtles. If she didn't think she was crazy an hour ago, she definitely did now.
Leonardo walks in with a cup while their captive… I mean, guest is being fed. The pair sit in silence as Tori eats. When the bowl is empty, Michelangelo asks if she wants to play a game. "What game can I play without my hands?" "How about twenty questions?" "What do you want to know?" "What's your name?" "Tori." A spurt is heard from the other end of the room, where Leonardo is attempting to stop laughing. Tea covers his plastron and is sprinkled across the rug. "What's so funny, Joker?" "Y-your name…" the turtle gasps for breath. "... means chicken…" another heave, "... in japanese…" Tori raises an eyebrow. "I had no idea." She looks back at the turtle, who is still trying, and failing, to catch his breath. "What would you rather call me?" "Smart aleck would be a good one." "No one asked you, Donnie." The turtle shrugs, and goes back into his little hidey hole.
"You could call her a pain in the shell." Raphael makes his presence known, and Tori closes her eyes, and sighs for what feels like the twentieth time that day. "No one asked you either, hair brain." When she opens them, they are met with the most icy green eyes she had ever seen. They terrified her. "Who are you callin hair brain, smart ass?" Tori swallowed her fear. No way she would show them that. Her brown eyes hardened as she stared into his. "Who do you think, Jack?" Confusion laced his features. "Who's Jack?" "Oh, only the name reserved for the conmen of the world. Doctor Who has one, Pirates of the Carribean has one, along with a lot of others I may not know about... There are Jacks everywhere, and now, you're one of them." Tori cocks her head. "Congragumalations, Jack." Raphael's baffled expression is enough to make Tori laugh. He glares, and storms away. Michelangelo's eyes follow his brother. "Wow. You really are lucky, you know that?"
The sound of muffled beating is heard through the walls. Leonardo walks off with the empty cup, no longer laughing. Aww, did the poor wittle baby hurt his feel goods? Michelangelo snorts. "Good one, I just hope Raph didn't hear that." "Wait, I said that out loud?" "Yup." Tori's head flops forward. "Just kill me now." "Why would I do that?" "If you don't, Raph might kill me first, and he'll make it painful." "No. We won't kill you. We don't kill anyone." "What about the guys in the alley?" "None of them are dead. They were knocked out." "And the ones that were plowed over by one of you?" "Also out cold. Raph is a hard hitter.-" "That's for sure." Leonardo's voice floats over. "His head is like a rock. A hit is more likely to hurt you than it is to hurt him."
"I heard that." A growl from the other room causes the group to freeze. Then the floor shakes. "Donnie? Are you alright in there?" Leonardo calls. A muffled 'I'm fine' is heard, and Michelangelo relaxes. The tall turtle comes out of a room. Smoke is trailing after him, and he closes the door. "I hadn't thought those chemicals would combust. I wasn't ready for it." Tori looks at him. "Combustion? Just what do you do in there?" "I do a lot of stuff. I make things. That's what I do." He brushes soot off his arms. "I'm going to shower." "Wait, you guys shower?" "Yeah, don't you?" Tori looked offended. "Of course I do. Why else would I smell so good?" Michelangelo sticks his nose into her short hair, and takes a deep breath. "Yeah, it does smell good." "Thank you…"
Michelangelo holds up four movies to pick from. They're all action. Tori chooses one she hasn't seen in awhile. She's pretty big on movies. "Losers." "Nice." The turtle pops the DVD into the player, and presses play. He's completely absorbed in the movie when Tori starts talking. She's mumbling, so he doesn't hear her over the gunfire on the screen. An explosion takes her back to a month ago. The last time she had seen this movie was when her dad had just gotten settled. They were sitting on their new couch. A large screen and a bucket of popcorn. It seemed like ages since they had spent time together like this. Her dad didn't have time for anything but the new 'family business'. Tori had missed her father.
Surprisingly enough, it was her dad who suggested a movie night. Like any movie night, they started with a bang. First up Losers. An underdog team of ex-military officers fight a terrorist that no one can seem to keep track of. The chase starts with a mission. The team paints a target, but doesn't realize they're children. When they do, it's too late. They go in, and save all twenty-five of them. When they think they're safe, the children are blown to smithereens by a bomber. The team is horrified. They are proclaimed dead, and go live their lives. They end up meeting someone who knows about their target. The one who killed them. They go about taking their revenge. They return to the states and find the mysterious 'Max', who is trying to change world maps via huge bomb. The losers, after being stabbed in the back, and against enormous odds, they stop Max, and save many, many lives.
The credits roll, and Tori stretches. Her dad had left to refill the popcorn for the next movie. One thing they were both good at is pulling all nighters. The remainder of the night is spent laughing at protagonists, and shouting about how stupid the antagonists are. They really are thick. I mean really? You want to change things, don't tell the good guy your entire evil plan!
Tori is pulled from her thoughts as Michelangelo yells at the screen. His hands are on his head as Leonardo rushes in to fix whatever problem there might be. He stops when he sees his brother rolling on the floor. "What was it this time Mikey." The turtle tries to talk, but it comes out as sobs. He looks at Tori. "Did you understand any of that?" "Uh, no." Michelangelo tries again. "The guy got away! He should have been caught! Whyyyyyyy?" He wailed. Tori rolls her eyes, and wishes she had an endless supply of knives on her person… She doesn't know where she would hide them, but alas, Tori is not Roque.
He would've found some way out by now. She, on the other hand had sat there, thinking about her dad for a good hour and a half. She also had listened to a turtle cry about the ending, then rave about the movie as a whole.
Michelangelo turned toward her again. "Do you want to get out of there?" "Sure, I'd like to stretch my legs." The turtle thought for a minute before approaching a door. He knocked, and waited to be allowed to enter. He went in, and stayed there for a few minutes. The young turtle came out again with a huge smile on his face. "Master Splinter said we could let you out for a walk, we just have to stay close." The ropes slackened, and Tori rubbed her wrists. "Thanks." "Sure. No problem." He seemed quiet. Even during the movie, he had made comments. He had laughed, but now that happy-go-lucky turtle is gone, and in his place is a clone of one of his stiff older brothers.
Michelangelo guided Tori toward the exit, but they were stopped by none other than the red masked menace himself. "Where do ya think you're going?" "Out. What's it to you?" Michelangelo finds it wise to interrupt. "Splinter said I could take her for a walk." Raphael scowls, and stomps toward the room Michelangelo had recently vacated.
The turtle in orange took that opportunity to leave as quickly as possible. "Sorry about him. He always seems to be stuck on one thing or another." "Don't worry about it. I know a lot of people who are the same way." Michelangelo looks interested. "Who would that be?" "My dad, mostly. He always had a temper. Some people say I inherited it from him." Tori straightens her back. "He taught me to be proud of my stubbornness. He said it might save my life one day," Her shoulders go back to their usual slump, "I'm not so sure. I think my stubborn streak might save his life." She catches the turtle staring, and he smiles. "It might not be as bad as you think."
No. It's worse.