(no subject)

This has to be one of the easiest tasks he's ever been assigned, but that doesn't mean he's only going to go half way. Oh no siree. Mikey doesn't play that. He suits up. Knee and elbow pads, climbing claws, various and sundry weapons of all sorts. He hums the Mission Impossible theme as he ties his mask around forehead and slides it into position over his eyes.

"Let's do this thing"

He slings the backpack of strange root veggies he still can't name, over his shoulder and heads for the door of Rm 134.
After checking to make sure the sightlines are clear, he leaps to the ceiling of the hall. With both legs and one arm braced, he closes the door to the suite, and then proceeds to make his way down the stairwell to the main bar.

The festivites are in full swing. Good, the sound will help dampen any sort of blunder he might commit. Not that he's going to blunder, but it's good to have a safty net. He almost slithers from one shadow to the other, making his way across the crowded room towards the bar itself.

Dive. Tuck. Roll. He's behind the bar. No one is the wiser.
The kitchen, she is empty. Silently he pads his way to Balderick's work station. A quick recheck of sighlines. All clear.
He sets himself to work rigging the produce to explode.

If only Splinter could see him now. He'd be so proud!

(no subject)

[OOM Rm 134. Post this]

He's dreaming when the first frog hits him. Dreaming of what could only be his childhood. Musty, murky, and damp. His dreams take him back to the primordial mud. He dismisses the slight disturbance, and snuggles deeper into bed.

Then the second round hits. This time it's five, with onelanding directly on his forehead. Cold and clammy and wet. The dream starts to fade, or does it? The sounds and smells remain, even as he surfaces from...well from where ever he was before. No wait...scratch that, they're becoming more vivid as he awakens.

He opens his eyes to find a frog looking down on him from his own forehead. It croaks a good morning. Mike screams a reply. He whips the frog off his face and scrambles to the head of his bed, kicking the present as he does so. The box falls off the bed and into the water with a loud Splort.

His face a mask of abject horror as he takes in what was once his bedroom....and is now a rather stylishly decorated swamp. it must be a dream. It has to be a dream. The dozens of extra amphibians would agree that this most certainly is a dream.

Clutching a pillow to his chest, his eyes search the room, in an attempt to make sense of it all. That's when his eyes happen upon the card placed prominently on his bedside table.
He reaches out, snags it, and reads the message written within.

"Oh I'll get you my pretty. And your little dog too!"