Merry Christmas Everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! Special thanks to HamatoKameko for her invaluable feedback and fantastic suggestion—guess which one!

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom. I hate what they did to Spike.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas…

Splinter opened the fridge door and was momentarily stunned to see a tray of chicken legs, each wearing a tiny, tiny drum.

Quietly he closed the door, and walked away.

Leo, in the tunnels, was looking at the water pipes above his head, each with a Calabash attached to it, and wondering where the heck Mike got so many in the first place.

Raph and Leo, in the dojo, were startled when a bunch of action figures suddenly bungee-jumped from the darkness above, cheerfully bouncing up and down to some unseen tune on their elastic cords.

"Aren't there eleven Doctors?" Raph asked.

"They didn't make a figure of Paul McGann," Leo replied.

Donatello was reaching his breaking point. His evil brother *HAD* to have had help in hacking his laptop and uploading this perpetual loop of a film of can-can dancers cheerfully kicking up their legs and tossing their skirts over their heads over and over and over and over and….

Splinter, looking for a snack to nibble on during his stories, found the box of Honey Maid Graham Crackers©™ on the table, empty of its contents. Next to the box was a tall glass of milk and several of the tasty crackers surrounding the cool, refreshing drink.

Without a word, he gathered them all up and retired to the sofa.

"MIKEY!" Leo bellowed, as he fished origami birds out of the toilet.

"Whose 'Mother Goose' books are these all over the couch?" asked Splinter?

"Seriously?" replied Raph.

In the center of the dojo was a large Sonic the Hedgehog©™ plushie.

"You have… four unheard messages… first message: "Hello, Ah say, HELLO, this is Foghorn Leghorn"… end of message. Next message: "I tawt I taw a puddy tat!"… End of message. Next message: "MHEEP-MHEEP!" End of message. Next message:…"

Donatello finally turned off the phone.

Raph was dreaming he was on Casey's family's farm, listening to a whole lot of clucking. It was so loud, stupid birds were making such a racket, why couldn't they let a turtle get some sleep...

Waking from the strange dream he opened his eyes, and was met with the blurry sight of chickens wearing French berets. In his bedroom.

He turned over, covered his head with his pillow, and went back to sleep.

As Leo and Don released the doves back into the park, Don gave a shake of his head.

"I don't know what disturbs me more: the fact that he was ABLE to catch them, or the fact that he was able to get them to wear papier-mâché shells…"

Splinter, Don, Leo, and Raph stared and stared at the Christmas tree. They understood the meaning of the pears that had replaced the ornaments they'd all hung earlier in the week, but for the life of them they could not understand why there was a huge picture of David Cassidy adorning the top of the tree.

Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night!