Disclaimer: I don't own remotely anything to do with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, unfortunately for me. I just decided to borrow the characters and write about them for a bit. :)

A/N: Lots of the credit on this story belongs to the wonderful turtle fic writer Sanru, who came up with the dialogue for Don, Leo, and Raph. Without her, this story would never have been born. So thanks so much to her for all the awesome help! :D And you should definitely check out her stories; they rock!

Summary: Don makes an interesting discovery in the cushions of the couch. Didn't anyone ever tell Mikey that you can't plant your own pizza?

"Holy shell!"

Michelangelo glanced up from his wrinkled comic with surprise, eyes widening behind the holes in his orange mask. His purple-masked brother was standing directly in front of the TV, blocking all view of the Smallville re-run. He marked his spot with one finger, cocking an eye ridge curiously. "What's up, Don?"

Donatello jabbed his finger at the couch cushion beside the other turtle, expression slightly wild. "What. Is. That," he said flatly, thinning his eyes suspiciously.

Tossing his comic to the side, Mikey bounced to his feet. He moved to stand behind Don, peering over his shoulder at the stained cushion. "What's what?" he asked, the picture of innocence.

Donnie was forced to point once more, to a strange lump of yellow poking out through the stuffing of the cushion. "That!"

"That?"

"Yes, that!" He made a disgusted face as he gestured widely one more time.

"Um…cheese? Or perhaps a strange alien creature." Mikey chuckled nervously, wondering if it was too late to make a break for it.

"No, it's cheese," Don answered him, raising his own eye ridge. He vaguely wondered what game his younger brother was trying to play. Knowing Michelangelo, he was more than likely up to no good.

"Are you sure?" Mikey prompted him.

Don crossed his arms across his plastron as he spoke. "Since it has yet to move, attack, or communicate, yes, I'm sure it's cheese."

Mikey squinted at him for a moment, trying to think up a good response. "Well…it could be…an alien life form that speaks silently." He bobbed his head up and down, pleased with his quick thinking.

There was a small pause, small explosions from the television speakers the only sound in the entire lair.

"Uh…Don? Did you go into a coma or something? You look shell-shocked, bro."

Donatello inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, wondering why he had even gotten himself into this conversation. He could have been working on a new fuel stabilizer for Raph's Shell Cycle, but instead he was going around in circles with Michelangelo about why a mound of cheese was stuffed into the couch. "Mikey, why is there cheese in the couch?" he demanded, trying to stay calm and collected.

"I already told you, Don. It isn't cheese!" He heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes heavenward.

Don tightened his lips into a thin line. Fine. Two could play this game. "Then what is it, and why is it 'living' in our couch?

"Dude, like I said before: it's an alien life form." Mikey spoke the last three words in a very slow and exaggerated voice, as though trying to force the information through his brother's thick skull. "And it lives in the couch because its ship crashed in the lair. Does that make more sense, brainiac?"

"Then where is this 'ship', and why didn't we hear the resulting explosion as the ship violently connected with the flooring, resulting in the fuel to come in contact with the oxygen in the atmosphere, and the resulting spark of the main generator core?"

Mikey blinked, confusion slowly coating his features. "Uh…what is that, in normal turtle speak?"

Donnie shrugged. "Where is this 'ship'? And why didn't we hear it crash?"

"The ship…is disguised…as…Raph." Mikey's eyes darted around the room as he tried to come up with something. "Yeah, that's it! The real Raph is tied up in the basement!"

Don blinked once, already feeling a migraine coming on. Pointless conversations with his younger brother usually caused this effect. "Since when did we acquire a basement?" he asked dubiously.

"Since…now!"

Donnie took another deep and cleansing breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he began speaking again. He had plenty of other things that he could be doing at the moment, but instead was locked a discussion about cheese with Mikey. He was going to go about this calmly and rationally before he started whacking the other turtle over the head with his bo staff. "…Mikey, either you explain to me there is cheese on the couch, or I tell Raph that he has my blessing to do the unspeakable with your entire collection of Silver Sentry Comics." He folded his arms over his chest and tried to look threatening.

"Ulp!" Mikey gulped hard, glancing around frantically for some escape. He knew that he had to get his prized comic collection into the reading material protection program before it was too late. Raph probably wouldn't even leave a scrap of Silver Sentry action intact!

Don tapped his foot against the floor impatiently. "I'm waiting…"

Mikey's eyes darted around the room, and his brain flew in thousands of different directions as he ran over plausible excuses to use. "Okay, okay! It took up seed there!"

"It took up seed?" Don questioned incredulously.

"Yeah, you know. Like, it's growing there. Cool, huh?" Michelangelo plopped down onto the couch again, slinging his arm over the back of it. He leaned to stare curiously over at the offending yellow substance sticking from the other cushion.

"You 'planted' the couch with cheese in hopes of what? That a pizza would grow?" Don demanded, unable to believe that even Mikey would be so insane.

"How'd you guess?" Growing bored with examining the cheese, Mikey leaned back against the couch to relax again. He craned his neck to peer around Don, still trying to vain to see the TV set.

"And exactly how much pizza did you plant?"

"Just ten bags of cheese or so." Mikey shrugged carelessly, grabbing the remote and turning up the television's volume a little. "Nothing too major, Donnie. Or was it eleven?"

"What?" Donatello cried hopelessly. Eleven bags of cheese 'planted' in the couch? With everyone that had been sitting on the cushion recently, the cheese was more than likely hopelessly crushed into the fabric. It would completely permeate the sofa, so that they would be plagued with the scent of rotting dairy products for all of eternity. He cautiously lifted up the corner of the cushion, afraid of what he might see lurking there. "Mikey, please tell me – SHELL!" He pointed frantically, jabbing his finger against the infected cushion.

"What is it?" Eyes wide, Mikey leaned forward to look again.

"Look underneath that cushion! You didn't plant the cheese! You started an entire nation of cheese!" Don felt like he might hyperventilate. It was official. Their couch was ruined. No one could ever sit on it again!

"Wow. Cool."

"Mikey! The mold on that cheese could release toxic spores that could cause any number of respiratory illnesses!" Don was completely horrified.

"Uh…is that bad?"

Don cocked an eye ridge, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "…Considering how you fall asleep periodically and bury your face in the cushions, we might come down one morning and find you cooking in your own spit because your esophagus is inflamed to the point where you can't breathe right."

Mikey swallowed hard. "…Oh. Weird."

"'Oh weird'? Is that all you have to say after you've tried to colonize your own culture of cheese in the couch, which could have resulted in yours or someone else's death?"

"Yeah, just about." Mikey sprang up from the couch, ignoring the end credits of Smallville that were scrolling across the TV screen. Much more interesting things were happening in real life. He threw his arm around Don's shoulders, grinning widely. "Dude, you need to loosen up."

"Loosen up?" Donnie shoved at Mikey's arm, slinging it away. "You're just saying that because you don't know the dangers that can happen during a cheese revolution."

"Not really. This is boring. Hey, want to watch TV?" He jumped back onto the couch, forcing it to make a precarious creaking sound, and grabbed the remote. He casually flipped through the channels, looking for something good to watch. Not much seemed to be on.

"You can watch television after you've cleaned up the Empire of Cheese before it has finished elected representatives to its senate." Don narrowed his eyes dangerously, moving pointedly to stand in front of the screen again.

"Hey, Jurassic Park is on! This is my favorite part." Mikey dropped limply onto the cheese-infested sofa, relaxing as he watched screaming people race away from a mammoth lizard that happened to be a tyrannosaurus rex.

"Fine. I'll just put the cushion back and not so indirectly tell Leo who was behind the creation of the first fifty states of cheese."

"I'm…I'm not scared of Leo!" Mikey's eyes widened involuntarily with fear for his life. Leo liked things neat, not covered in cheese. But he was better than Raph, though…

"Sure, you're not. Enjoy your movie, Mikey. I need to talk to Leo about something." Don turned to stroll leisurely away, smirking smugly. He counted mentally, and only got to three before Mikey was up off the couch again.

"Eeeeek! No! I beg of you!" Michelangelo threw himself into the air, attaching himself tightly to his elder brother's ankle.

"Mikey! Get off my leg!" He shook the said appendage frantically, staggering and trying to free himself of the overgrown turtle that was clinging to him.

"DON'T TELL LEO!" he wailed urgently.

"Would you let go, already?" Donatello was still shaking his leg, staggering and tripping over himself and Mikey as he tried to walk.

"DON'T TELL LEO!" With one last wail, Mikey pulled himself atop Don's head, unfortunately causing Donnie to loose his sight for the moment. Being able to see really came in handy when you were walking, surprisingly enough.

Don stumbled blindly, arms extended in front of himself as he tried to walk. "Mikey, stop it! I can't stand with you on my shoulders!" As if on cue, both fell over with a loud crash, Master Splinter's favorite reading lamp shattering everywhere and the coffee table splintering into jagged pieces of wood. Some of the cheese nation sprinkled down onto the jumbled heap of debris.

Mikey moaned, rubbing his head. He tried to free himself from the tangled heap, but had no such luck. "Ow, my head."

"'Ow your head'? More like 'ow my head'. You didn't really have to climb up on me like that, Mikey." Don looked disgruntled, shoving himself up onto his elbows.

"Yes, I did."

"Um…Mikey?"

"What?" the mentioned asked innocently.

"Can you get off me now? Or are you going to sit on my chest all night?" Don asked with exasperation.

"Maybe…" He shrugged indecisively, as best he could with Donatello being half on top of him.

Don stared past Mikey with undisguised horror, at his shoulder. "And what is sticking to my shoulder? Oh, gross…"

"An alien life form?"

"Mikey, you better be comfy because when I get up the consequences for your actions will not go unpunished. Now get off my arm and hand me the popcorn. I love it when the velociraptors attack." Don gestured towards the cracked mixing bowl resting beside them, which had miraculously survived the disastrous crash, and contained a few crumbs of popcorn.

"There's hardly any popcorn left, actually."

"Then go make me some more." Don waved towards the kitchen importantly.

"Go do it yourself, or I'll sic my colony of cheese on you!" Mikey smirked, pointing towards the couch.

"May I remind you that I am laying in the colony of cheese and you are sitting on top of me. How am I supposed to retrieve refreshments if I'm stuck?" Don pointed out.

"I'm…not sure. You're the smart one, you figure it out." He sneered at him.

Don inhaled a deep breath, then let out an urgent plea for help that could probably be heard miles away from their location. "RAPHAEL! RAPHAEL!"

"Eeeeek!" Mikey looked frantic, knowing that he was mere seconds away from utter doom, a.k.a. the wrath of an angry Raph. He then hurriedly grabbed something unidentifiable from amongst the colony of cheese.

"Rap-mmmmpphhh! Mph gf ma momht!" Don glared up at his brother, cries for help finally silenced.

"Ha, that'll teach you! Summon the Raph, and you get a wad of Klunk hair in your mouth!" Mikey pressed the clump of hair into the other turtle's mouth, keeping him from spitting it out. He waved his free hand triumphantly.

"Maphee!" Don managed to get out, a hopeful expression on his face as he saw Raphael strolling over.

"What the shell is all that noise about?" Raph looked annoyed, scowling at the duo. He'd been trying to work on his Shell Cycle's flat tire while talking to Casey over his Shell Cell, until he'd heard the frantic cries for help.

"Ulp." Mikey swallowed hard. "Uh…hey, Raph. What's up, bro?" He waved halfheartedly with his free hand.

"What's with all the noise? And where the shell is egghead?" He ambled over, looking more curious than annoyed now. This had the potential to turn into a fight, which was always more fun than working on his Cycle.

"Um…nowhere." Mikey wriggled around, trying with doomed efforts to hide Don beneath himself.

Don made a spitting noise, freeing his mouth of the offending clump of cat hair. "Raphael!" He struggled as best he could.

Mikey looked frantic. "Ignore that!"

Raph crossed his arms over his plastron, speaking in a warning tone. "Mikey…"

The comic-loving turtle looked nervous, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Raph…"

"Where. Is. Don?"

"Um, nowhere, remember?"

"Okay. That's it. Come'ere!"

"Ahhhhhh!" Mikey's limbs flailed uselessly as Raph grabbed him and started swinging him through the air like a baseball bat. The red-masked hothead paid absolutely no attention to Mikey's struggles.

Don finally sat up, spitting the last of the cat hair out of his mouth. He made a disgusted face, wiping at his tongue with what he hoped was a relatively clean hand. "Ppth…ppth…Eeeewww…I really need to tell Mikey to give Klunk a bath!"

"Tell Raph to let go of my head!" Mikey exclaimed with a girlish squeal.

"Why should I?" Raph growled down at him, having way too much fun to stop.

Leonardo appeared at the top of the stairs, studying the chaotic scene for a moment before leaping down to join the others. "What on earth is going on down here?"

Mikey froze like a deer caught in the headlights. "Oh, shell…"

Don waved meekly, flipping quickly to his feet. "Ummm…hi, Leo."

The eldest turtle's eyes widened when he noticed Raph cleaning the floor with Mikey's head. Mikey had resumed his girly screams. "Raphael! Let go of him right now!" He hurried over to separate them, tugging them apart. He then stared with uncharacteristic disgust as Don's shoulder. "Don…what the shell is on your shoulder?"

Mikey piped up nervously, raising one hand. "An alien life form?"

Donatello gestured with one hand towards Mikey, scowling darkly. "All right, I've had enough of this. Sorry Raph, but I'm stealing a page from your book. Come'ere!"

"No! Help me, Leo!" Mikey screamed, right before Don tackled him. They wrestled wildly across the floor, crashing into various items that happened to be in the way. Master Splinter's favorite rocking chair fell over with a tremendous crash that didn't sound at all well.

Raph calmly looked over at Leo. "What the shell was all that about?"

Leo's brow furrowed worriedly as he watched the unorganized mêlée playing out across the lair. "I don't know. And I don't know if I want to get involved," he said quietly.

Mikey rolled past, arms and legs a blur of motion as he struggled for his very life. "Help!"

Raph winced theatrically, looking away as a bookcase toppled over and Master Splinter's favorite Days of Our Lives character guide slammed into the floor with a sickening thud. "Yeah, Donnie looks mad."

Mikey rolled past again, head coming up for a brief gasp of air. "Help!"

Leo stared wordlessly for a minute. "…But if we don't get those two to quiet down, Master Splinter's not going to be impressed."

"He already won't be impressed when he sees the destruction of all his stuff," Raph pointed out.

Mikey rolled past once more, eyes beholding a look of pure and utter terror. "Help!"

Raph smirked. "I'll grab Don."

Mikey rolled around the couch, nearly making his escape before Don pounced angrily on him again. "Help!"

Raphael jogged casually over, then stood above the two of them. "Yo, egghead. Back off, will ya? You're going to wake the dead at this rate."

Mikey rolled past Raph this time, loosing all hope at ever coming out of this horrible cycle of beating. "Help!"

Raph bent at the waist, disconnecting the struggling ninjas. Don flailed, trying to free himself from his brother's iron grip. "Put me down, Raphael!" With these words, both toppled over and crushed the helpless and innocent Michelangelo beneath them.

Mikey squealed loudly, sure that he would soon see the bright light at the end of the tunnel. "Help!"

"Stop kicking me, brainiac!" Raph shouted with outrage.

Donnie struggled wildly. "Then let me go!"

All that could be seen of Mikey now was one arm and a pair of kicking legs. "Help! Help!"

Leo trotted over, then easily plucked Mikey from the jumbled mêlée. He carried him over to the couch, then planted him sturdily beside it. "Okay, Mikey. Calm down. You're safe. Take it easy."

Mikey was breathing heavily, his eyes frighteningly wide. "Maybe! Onlyifhedoesn'tkillme!" he cried hopelessly.

Leo smiled kindly. "Don is too preoccupied wrestling with Raph right now to do you any harm." He glanced back towards the fight, then turned back to Mikey. "Now, what on earth was this all about?"

"Um…I forgot." He frowned, snapping his fingers together as a brilliant light bulb struck him. "Oh, yeah. Don found out that I was growing a cheese nation in the couch."

Leo stared at him blankly, blinking once. "Somehow, I don't think I even want to know. Just clean it up before Sensei finds out, all right?"

Mikey's bottom lip trembled. "But the nation has already put in its roots. Besides, pizza might grow!" He grinned excitedly at the thought.

Leo stared at him again, not quite sure what to think of the statement. "I have to go stop Raph from smearing Don across the floor. Enjoy your movie, Mikey." He rushed over to try his best to pull the two turtles apart.

Mikey sunk down onto the couch, grateful that his life was safe for the moment. He was careful not to crush the colony of growing pizza, staring down at it thoughtfully. "And all this because of a pile of cheese in the couch," he muttered, grinning.

Please review, everyone! I'd love to know what you think! :D