Chapter Nine: Presidential Appeal and The Elevator Conspiracy

"Mister President," Michelangelo began. "If we don't give turkeys the right to vote, they'll riot. And then turkeys'll be in congress…and we'll be the ones they serve at Thanksgiving Dinner with yams and cranberry jelly!" The ailing turtle made to sit up and grab the "President" by the collar in order to shake some sense into him; the Turkey Uprising just had to be stopped!

Donatello simply pushed Mikey back down to the pillows by his forehead. "Don't worry, Mikey," he soothed. "It won't come to that. We'll settle everything democratically." Turning to his father, Donatello added: "Sensei, it's a good thing you called."

Splinter, who was standing by the foot of the bed, watched as Donatello produced various bottles and pills from the brown bag he'd brought upon their return. The rat had breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he heard of their medical acquisition; over the course of the day, his youngest son's fever had gone from bad to worse. Watching his poor baby shiver violently even under three blankets reminded Splinter of the first time he'd nearly lost him to illness. He shuddered; he hoped to never feel so helpless again. He would fight an armada to keep his children safe only to watch them suffer at the hands of an evil microscopic speck.

Donatello popped a few pills into Mikey's mouth before putting a glass of water up to his lips. "Just drink this, Mikey," he instructed. "You'll feel better in no time." Michelangelo did as he was told and flopped back down. He was asleep in mere seconds.

With one last look at his youngest son to settle his nerves, Splinter exited the room. Leonardo, Raphael, and Karai were waiting for him in the den. He motioned for them to follow him into the dojo. "Tell me more about what happened tonight, Leonardo."

Once inside the dojo, Leonardo sat down before his sensei, his siblings following his lead beside him. He then proceeded to explain the events of their mission, enduring a few interruptions and strong opinions from Raphael. "She did work for Bishop, sensei," Leo confirmed.

"She's our only reliable source of information," Karai added. "We could use her to defeat Bishop."

"I'm not sure if Paige would be for that, Karai," said Leonardo. "She didn't really seem like she'd want anything to do with him."

"So you don't think she'll help us?" Karai asked.

"Listen to you guys," said Raphael spitefully. "Talking as if we can actually trust her. Don't you find it just a little bit strange that she's in the country at the same time Bishop is?"

Leo stroke his chin in thought. "True. But if she still worked for him, don't you think something might have happened by now? Sensei, what do you think?"

"I have told you before, Leonardo," said the rat. "You must learn to trust your instincts."

"I trust my instincts, but can we trust her?"

"What do you believe, my son?" was Splinter's answer.

"Well…right now, I think we can consider her neutral. We should just work out a plan to defeat Bishop using what we know…for now." He looked to Karai and Raphael to gauge their opinions. Karai gave one solemn nod in agreement. Raphael huffed and rolled his eyes.

"It is settled, then." Splinter turned and headed for his room, his children bowing in his wake. "It is late, and you are all tired. We should all sleep."

Karai was the first to leave the dojo, yawning on her way to her room. Leonardo was on his way out when he felt a rough hand grip his shoulder, stopping him. He turned his head.

Raphael looked him in the eye. "Paige is hiding something, Leo…I just know it."

No sooner did the Hamato children leave the apartment did Paige realize she had nothing planned for dinner. Casey was quick to suggest a Mexican restaurant only a few blocks from her building. Paige was hesitant, having no love for Mexican food, but Casey had a look in his eye that reminded her of a puppy that just spotted a huge milk bone. Unable to resist those pleading coffee eyes, Paige donned her coat and the two were out the door.

Not twenty minutes later, they reached the building. Casey mentioned that the restaurant was located on the fifteenth floor. They entered and made for the elevator.

"What kind of restaurant is located on any floor but the first?" Paige wondered as Casey punched the numbers on the panel.

"The best kind," Casey answered. "Keeps all the lame people out." The doors shut closed and they began their climb.

They had reached the third floor when the doors slid open to admit a woman. She punched in her desired floor and stood to face the door, her back to them. Paige and Casey exchanged mischievous looks as the doors shut. A silent understanding passed between them. It's been far too long since they'd played this-they're favorite prank. They called it the Elevator Conspiracy Game.

"So," Casey began, just loud enough for the woman to overhear him but also enough to make it seem like he was whispering, "how'd you get the stuff through Customs?"

Paige chuckled. "They'd never think to check a wooden leg."

The woman in front of them didn't move but they could sense the look of curiosity on her face.

Casey nodded. "O' course, o' course…Now I'm startin' to worry about Vince."

"Well, don't worry," Paige assured. "As long as we're back downstairs in twenty minutes, he shouldn't suffocate."

Another beep and the lift had reached the sixth floor. The doors opened and the woman couldn't seem to get herself out of the elevator fast enough. She bolted in a random direction, determined to get as far away from them as her legs could take her.

As soon as the doors closed again, Casey and Paige doubled over, laughing like hyenas.

"Oh Cholula! I missed doing that!" Casey declared.

"Oh, me too," said Paige, dabbing at her tearing eyes. "But we really mustn't do that-it's not nice."

"Alright," Casey agreed begrudgingly.

A beep resounded as they reached the ninth floor. The doors slid open to admit a middle-aged man. Again, their fellow passenger stood with their back to them. Casey gave Paige a pleading look as if to say: "Just one last time?"

Paige sighed, a defeated smile on her face. Sometimes, she really couldn't say no to him. She cleared her throat. "Stop fidgeting," she said in a mocked reprimanding tone. "No one will recognize you after all that plastic surgery."

Casey's tone was laced with fake distress. "I can stop fidgeting but I don't think I can stop worrying."

"You will once we get to Canada."

The man turned his head ever so slightly, avoiding eye contact, but the two could already gauge the nervous look on his face.

"I just don't want to see any more bloodshed," Casey continued.

"Relax," Paige insisted. "You're in the clear."

A fake shiver could be heard in Casey's voice as he said: "You don't know the BuzzKill and his ways."

The doors slid open to the fourteenth floor. Again, their fellow occupant wasted no time in exiting the elevator as soon as the doors opened. As the man trotted away in a quiet but panicked huff, Casey had to hold onto the handrail to keep from falling to his knees in laughter.

Paige braced her hands on her knees as she joined him, laughing shamelessly. She hugged her gut, feeling it about to bust any minute. "We're terrible!"

"I know!"

"Oh, but you Yanks are so gullible!"

Author's Notes:

May I begin by saying that this chapter literally did not exist until a day ago? This was not the original ninth chapter. I was originally just gonna breeze over Mikey's recovery (or rather, not mention anything at all) until an idea came to me from a review made by Andromakhe, who is awesome, by the way. In fact, a lot of these chapters either didn't exist or went a completely different direction until I gave them a second look.

Just goes to show you, when you live an artistic life, your first idea isn't necessarily your best.

Besides, this chapter was supposed to be a filler anyway, so I decided to play with it and knew it wouldn't effect the story in any way.

The Elevator Conspiracy Game was inspired by a scene from an episode from one of my favorite sitcoms: Frasier (the character Daphne Moon is actually the inspiration for Paige). The object is to improvise a continuous dialogue aimed at scaring the person who overhears. I haven't tried it with any of my friends yet, but it seemed too downright funny not incorporate into the story.

Hope you guys enjoyed and there's more fun to be had in the next chapter. Till next time!