Words in italics denote thought, not spoken words. Sorry if I didn't make that clear from the beginning. Thanks to everyone again for all comments! Beware Raph's potty mouth!

Michelangelo tried to prove just how flexible a turtle's neck can be. He stood precariously balanced on two rolls of toilet paper (double ply) trying to look at his shell in the mirror above the sink. So far he could make out the words…."Fuck" and "Raph"

Mike strained a little more trying to read. His face had an odd shade of green, as if he were about to be sick. He turned to the other turtle in the bathroom. "Don, if that mentions something even close to incest, I'm gonna use a magnet on your computer again."

Donatello looked visibly ill at what Mike was implying; both the magnetized computer and the thought of incest made him nauseous. "God, no, Mikey. It just says.." He cleared his throat a little looking a tad embarrassed. Writing it was one thing, speaking it was another. "…just says…'fuck off, Raphael'."

Mike blinked and looked at him. His face brightened a little. "Really?" He paused. "Why?"

Don sighed. "It seemed the thing to do at the time. Let's just say, I satisfied Raphael's two main requirements in one shot."

Mike seemed to accept that answer and jumped down from his improvised step stool. "So, how long do I get to tell Raph off?" He gave Don a small smile. If there was one thing Mike could appreciate it was a practical joke. With the sign on his back, he could tell his older brother off repeatedly and not get in trouble. This was his kind of joke.

Don returned the smile gratefully. "Sensei said to help you wash it. It was permanent marker, so uh…it may be there until tomorrow."

Mike got a washcloth from the small cabinet in the corner. "It'll wear off by tomorrow?"

"No, but I have some stuff in my lab that will remove it easier. And…" Don thought for a moment. "..it should leave your shell mostly in tact." He grinned at Mike's startled look. "Just kidding, Mikey."

Mike handed Don the cloth. "Uh huh." He smiled. "Well…guess you aren't rubbing my feet, but you are scrubbing my back. Some perks to being the leader. Should make you do a million flips for this." He grinned at Don's startled look. "Just kidding, Donnie."

Don growled slightly as he wet the washcloth and started scrubbing at Mike's shell.

"I think maybe fifty flips will be enough for you to learn your lesson," Mike continued, tapping his chin in thought. "Maybe some extra chore…hey! OW! Not so hard!"

"Definitely not what I want to hear you tell Donnie, Mike. Good thing the door isn't closed." Raphael commented dryly leaning against the doorway. "Someone might just take that the wrong way."

Don blushed a little but Mike just waved off Raph's comment and gave his brother a wry grin. "Read the shell Raph."

No matter who he was supposed to be at the moment, Donatello knew that Raphael's hair trigger temper was set off more easily by Mike than anyone else. Hoping to avoid the inevitable explosion, he interrupted their taunting of each other. "Raph, do you need the bathroom?"

Raphael shook his head. "Nope. Gotta fix the door that Leo kicked down."

Don stopped scrubbing and turned seeing Raphael with his beloved toolbox. "Those are my tools!"

"Hey, you're not done scrubbing yet, slave boy!" Mike reminded him. But Donatello ignored him. All he could see were his "babies" in the hands of an inexperienced "parent."

"Whadya want me to use, Donnie? Scotch tape and staples?" Raph set the toolbox down none too gently on the floor. Don winced when he heard precious instruments being knocked together inside.

"I'll fix it tomorrow," Don promised dropping the washcloth to rescue his tools.

Raph stepped in his way. "Splinter wants it done today."

"Like that's ever mattered before," Don countered trying to step around Raph. He'd spent years and years collecting those tools. He'd used his saved up money and spent hours combing through junkyards. He just couldn't let anyone use them but him. It was a matter of principle. They were his!

Raphael blocked his way again. "Yeh but I'm you today. And I gotta be the do-gooder." he smirked. "I promise I won't break more than half of your tools."

Don's eyes widened but before he could say anything, Mike stepped in between them. "Now come on guys. There's no need to fight. Raph can get to fixin the door. Donnie, you got scrubbing to do." He handed Don the washcloth and gave him his trademark charismatic smile.

Don tossed it right back in his face. "Go to hell, Mike." He pushed past Raph and went out the door. He'd left his toolbox behind to fend for itself. He could only hope that he wouldn't regret it.

Mike scratched the back of his head watching Don go down the hallway. "That could've went better."

Raph grinned. "The boy's learnin. C'mon, Mikey. Help me with this door."

Mike hesitated. "That sounds like work for underlings. Not us leader types."

Raphael glared at him.

"Of course," Mike said with a smile. "Never let it be said that I'll ask my people to do what I wouldn't do." He reached down and helped Raph put the door up to the hinges.

Raphael examined the door closely. "Don't look like it's really bad.. Gotta fix the hinges. Simple. Hold the door steady, Mike." He picked up the hammer, a nail and started to work. He held back the small smile. This he could do.

Donatello stormed down the hall mumbling to himself. "If one of my tools so much has a scratch on it, his CD collection is history. Bad enough I gotta do his chores…." His ranting was cut off by a hand grabbing his arm and dragging him into Leo's room. He yelped quietly before he turned and saw his oldest brother.

He groaned. "Please, Leo. No more Mikey-ing. I'm not in the mood."

Leo smiled slightly and closed the door of his room. "Sorry about that, Don. At the time…"

"It seemed the thing to do," Don sighed. "Yeh I know. So, if you're not going to torment me, then what do you need?"

"I need your help." He gave Don the quick version of what he saw during Mike's little training session in the dojo. "So, I think Little Brother Leader needs a lesson in humility."

Don folded his arms. "After what you did to me, why should I help you?" Unfortunately, Donatello didn't find Mike's skit as offensive as Leonardo had. Mike had done far worse in his opinion in the past. Although the whole Battle Nexus Champion thing was getting more than old.

"He's not getting on your nerves? Even a little?" Leo wondered if he was the only one Mike was trying hard to annoy.

Don thought for a minute. Rub my feet. Rub my shell. Slaveboy. A million flips. Extra chores.

"What do you want me to do?"

Leo chuckled and outlined his plan. The more he told his brother, the less enthusiastic Don seemed to be.

"Leo, why does it seem like I'm doing most of the work and taking the most risks?"

Leo shook his head. "Look at it this way Donnie…."

Before he could finish his sentence there was a loud yell followed by much cursing. They both ran out the door into the hallway.

"You cut off my THUMB!" They could hear Mikey's howl of pain from down the corridor.

And they could also hearRaphael's retort. "Well it was in my fuckin' way!"