"Does it mean it's time for another snack?" suggested Michelangelo with hope.
The others turned back to the book: a figure, plates and cups. They nodded in approval.
Five persons were occupied with eating, but only four munching were heard. The girl - now Simonetta - had the largest portion - as a compensation for previous wrongs - and she seemed completely voiceless. She looked content though, eating greedily and did not care about her long hair falling into the plate. When the turtles had invited her to the table, all the decoration from her hair had disappeared with soft clinking. Donatello had taken it as a sign of another accomplished quest.
"She'll throw up," warmed Raph his youngest brother who had just served the girl another portion of meat.
She nodded her thanks and took nearest carafe filled with red wine and looked at the others with expectation.
"We don't drink," refused Leonardo apologetically.
"That would be rude," objected Raph half seriously as he passed the girl five glasses.
"It seems to be properly archived," sipped Donatello cautiously and blinked in surprise when Simonetta finished her second goblet. While others were going on with the feast, Don returned to the manuscript. Another page had just been written. Donnie drummed his fingers on the table. Then he read the page again. And then he reached for the half-empty jug and drank it up in two gulps.
"Something's wrong?" Leonardo was the only one who noticed the unusual behavior of his brother. The two others were too busy with playing popular teenager's game - 'make a fool of yourself'.
"I may be wrong," said Donnie unconvincingly, "but it almost looks like .. uh .. an engagement ceremony."
Leo stopped smiling and went to his now very unhappy brother.
"Does this really look like an engagement ceremony to you?" he asked after a while.
"Formerly, there use to be tradition," the genius began to explain, "and someone still keeps that tradition, that before the wedding it's necessary to prove... hm .. the bride's capability to be, you know, impregnated."
"Impregnated," repeated Leonardo apathetically.
Raphael stopped cuffing Mikey, who had been hitting him with the pomegranate's seeds.
"Did we miss something?"
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm not prepare to become a father," interrupted Mikey their quiet study of the drawings, "and definitely not to do all that stuff.."
"I believe," said Donnie gruffly, "that it should be taken more likely as a guidance."
"And I believe, we'll find another solution," frowned Leonardo, though he looked pretty unsure.
Four hesitant turtles looked at Simonetta, still sitting on the opposite side of the table and eating. She returned their gaze without any emotion. Then she drank her wine and slowly swallowed last portion. Her lips were crimson from the drink, as all of them suddenly noticed.
Then she stood up.
Her toga disappeared.
And then the girl too.
Just like that. Even without the usual tinkling.
Before Mikey could ask, they heard the sound of unlocking.
The small door next to the fireplace had transformed into the hell gate.
Michelangelo was sitting on the chair, his head in his hands, blue eyes wide open. Raphael was pacing back and forth like a tiger in too small cage. Leonardo was leaning against the wall, secretly but still visibly doing the breathing exercises.
Donatello was browsing through the book with absent minded look. Raph slammed it shut and almost trapped his brother's nose inside.
"I think," Leo said quietly, "that rating warning shouldn't be taken lightly."
Mikey bowed his head.
Raph banged the table with his fist. Then he drank the last jug in one quick gulp and disappeared behind the recently opened door.
A stunned silence was broken by the sound of the locking.
Leonardo ran to the entrance.
"Do you really want to go there now?" asked Don quietly.
"What if it's a trap?" the leader hissed through his teeth.
"Then he will have to deal with it. By himself."
"What's he doing in there so long?" Mikey had been pacing instead of his absent brother. "He's there for ages!"
No one answered. It wasn't more than ten minutes. And they all knew it.
"It's just like him. Always thinks only about himself."
Five steps to the left. Turnabout.
"If I been there," ten steps to the right, "I'd tell her to get over it as quickly as possible .. " spin, five steps back.
"I mean, she still listen to the orders, right? So I'd..." "Mikey?" "Yes, Leo? " "Shut up."
There was a deathly silence. Even from behind the door.
"What if it's all over?" dared Mikey to ask, when next five minutes had passed by. Ignoring Leo's warning look, Michelangelo put his ear to the door and carefully took the door handle. Then he dashed inside and his scream was cut off by the click of the lock.
"I have an idea," announced Donnie as he walked to the table while Leonardo tried to burn the door with his eyes.
When he returned, he was holding two empty glasses and handed one to his confused brother.
"That's ... hmm .. " he waved his hands for explanation.
"Oh?" Leonardo was not quite sure.
"I think," described Donnie his presumption, "that the - hmm - the act itself is not that important as the goal," and he wiggled his eyebrows. With his serious expression it seemed irresistibly comical.
"Oh!" Leo frowned at the glass in his hand. "And how do we know it works?"
"I'll try it first," the pundit offered. "If I be there very shortly, the experiment is successful. But I'd rather go there alone," he quickly added.
The 'click clack' of the lock rumbled through their heads.
"OK," Leonardo approved of his plan after a while.