Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the Ninja Turtles. It'd be nice though. (fantasizes) Anyways, it's been a while since I've written TMNT, so, um, go easy on me? ;o) And I fell asleep during the final hockey game of the Stanley Cup but I tried really hard to keep it right!

Firecracker

The thick, greasy smell of pepperoni pizza, tinted by traces of buttered popcorn and potato chips, hung over the lair, invading nostrils and clogging up pores. Incredibly, it overpowered the sewer stench; it was ensured to seep into the furniture and stay there for the next fifteen years. There were only guys living there though, and they could care less if their stuff smelt like a decaying snack bar. It was a sort of sweet aroma, really. And besides, what else could you eat instead junk food when you were watching the most anticipated hockey match of the year?

"Move over, Raph, you're squashing my leg," said Leonardo, bumping his shoulder insistently against Raphael's.

"Don't shove me, Leo," Raphael warned but he shifted anyways. He did not want to start a fight that would make him miss the game. He, Leonardo, Donatello, and Casey Jones were all jammed together on the couch, watching the final match of the Stanley Cup on the TV.

April was perched in the armchair, the fingers of one hand curled around a cup of warm green tea. She was taking deep breaths of the strong green tea aroma, trying to keep the grease odor at bay, but otherwise she was as caught up in the excitement of the game as the guys were. Maybe more since she was even wearing an Oilers jersey and had one of those huge, foam #1 hands.

Michelangelo was sprawled out on the floor right in front of the TV, garbed out in Hurricane red and white war paint and a homemade jersey. His paint-streaked head was craned backwards to stare up at the screen.

"Mikey, I really don't think you should sit…um….lay that close," Donnie said, taking his eyes off the game to give his younger brother a brief concerned look. "You might permanently damage your retinas or something."

"If retinas have anything to do with his brain, then we ain't gotta worry," said Raph as he snagged a handful of butter-smothered popcorn from the huge plastic bowl on the coffee table. "There's nothing left there to damage."

"Nothing's more than you've got, Raph," Mikey retorted, turning his head around to give Raphael a loud raspberry.

"Why you-" Raphael started, his hands clenching into fists.

"That didn't even make sense," said Donnie before biting into a grape-flavored Airhead. The purple ones always were his favorites. He tossed Raphael a quieting look. "So there's no need to get angry."

Raphael contented himself with a fierce glare and a growl, "I'll be angry when I wanna be angry."

"For turtles, you guys make a lot of noise," complained Casey, munching on a piece of pepperoni pizza.

"You can go home, y'know," Raphael told him, his eyes narrowing, "It's not like ya don't got a TV."

"Ya busted it with your shell last time ya came over, sewer breath," Casey muttered, shifting back farther into the couch cushions, his aggravation apparent on his face.

"That was you with the bowling ball!" snapped Raphael then he snickered through his popcorn. "What, your memory going with your age?"

Casey jumped up, nearly knocking the coffee table over. He flung his arm towards Raphael with his pointer finger shot out like an arrow. "I'll show you going! You're going down!"

"Oh, now that was clever," said Don. He had moved on to devouring some grape skittles. Purple made everything taste better, or at least it did for him. He was the only one besides Mikey who had liked that purple ketchup Heinz had put out about seven years ago.

"Go ahead, I'd like to see ya try. Makes me laugh," said Raphael, giving Casey a smug smirk. Infuriated, Casey made a strangled noise deep in his throat and his fingers curled up like claws.

"Casey, sit down," ordered Leo, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his chest. "Master Splinter will flip if he comes home from his meditation and the lair looks like a tableau of D-day."

"Sensei flipping instead of us, now there's something I'd like to see," exclaimed Mikey, grinning at the idea. His smile cracked some of the cheap red and white paint that covered half of his face.

"If you guys don't shut up right now-" April growled through her gritted teeth. A loud buzzer from the TV interrupted her; lights flashed and the people that were dressed in Oilers blue and orange cheered and danced in stands.

"SCORE!" cried Casey, pumping the air victoriously as his anger evaporated. He spontaneously high-fived Leonardo, a fellow Oilers fan, and yelled at the screen again before flopping back down on the couch, arms still raised in the air. "WoOOOOoo! Go Pisani!"

"That's how you work that ice, boys!" roared April, smashing her foam-encased hand against the armrest. She beamed with savage excitement. "Keep those skates racing, kill those 'Canes!"

Michelangelo pouted while Raphael, snarling unintelligibly at the TV, leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. Neither of them would ever admit the possible defeat of the Hurricanes until it actually happened; even then, they would probably deny it. Donatello, the neutral spectator, was still trying to figure the whole game out. He only watched it when everyone else did; he was more of a soccer guy.

"One goal don't mean nothin'," said Raph, "Those Oilers just ain't got it like the 'Canes do."

"Yeah, how awesome can you be with a lame name like 'The Edmonton Oilers'?" put in Mikey. He shook his head. "The cool points are totally stacked against them." He commando-crawled to the coffee table and started rummaging through the variety of snacks.

"If they're so lame then how come they beat the Hurricanes four to zero in game six?" asked Leonardo, his eyes half-lidded as he looked sideways at Raphael. "How embarrassing."

"Oh, burn!" cried April as she set her cup of tea down on the coffee table. It looked odd amongst the red and yellow plastics cups that the guys were using for their soft drinks. "Maybe Fernando Pisani will marry me," she mumbled to herself with a private grin. Hockey games always provoked her wild side. Casey overheard her. He sulked to himself by grabbing the almost empty two liter of Coke and emptying it into his gullet.

Raph's arm muscles twitched spasmodically and he forcefully had to keep his arm still. Oh, he just wanted to punch that little high-and-mighty look right off Leo's face. "What do you know about hockey, anyways, Leo? You're always in the dojo, practicing or doing whatever 'secret ninja junk'," he wiggled his fingers in the air mockingly, "You don't even watch the games."

"I know enough," Leo replied simply without even looking at Raphael which drove the red-wearing turtle nearly mad.

"If no one's noticed, the Hurricanes are still winning right now," Donnie put in quietly, nodding his head towards the TV. "Two to one." Sadly, he was ignored.

"What'd you do, blank out game two entirely?" Raphael snapped back at Leo. "Five to zero, Leo, five to ZIP! Forget about 'enough; you don't know nothin'."

"It looks like you're the one with selective memory, Raph. The Oilers won the last-"

"Hey, where're all the purple Pixie Stix?" interrupted Mikey. He was scattering everything on the table in his search for pixie stix. He looked up suspiciously at Raphael as he noticed an empty purple Pixie Stix wrapper that was sitting on the table in front of Raph. "Have you been eating all the Donnie-colored Pixie Stix?"

"Hell no, I hate Pixie Stix," Raphael said. He grabbed a bag of Barbeque Lay's Potato Chips and started shoveling those into his mouth as if to prove he did not eat Pixie Stix.

"Donnie-colored?" asked April with an amused look. Donatello sighed and rubbed at his temple with his hand.

"Yeah, Mikey's in this phase where he calls everything that's colored like our bandannas our names," Donatello explained. "For example, purple Pixie Stix like the ones Raph's been eating-"

"I don't eat Pixie Stix, Donnie."

"Would be called Donnie-colored Pixie Stix," Donatello continued, a small smirk hiding at the edge of his mouth. "Blue is Leo-colored and so on. It was really confusing when he first started doing it."

"It makes sense to me," Mikey said with a shrug of his shoulders. He was sucking on one of the caramel Cow Tails April had brought.

"Mikey, Spongebob Squareshirt makes sense to you," said Leonardo, shaking his head.

"Dude, Spongebob Squarepants is like the coolest guy I know," Mikey said in defense of one of his favorite cartoon shows. "Don't diss the Sponge." He scrambled to his feet as a commercial came on the TV. "I'm gonna go find some more Pixie Stix since Raph ate 'em all." Grinning, he raced away, leaving Raph's furious shout to follow him.

"I DON'T eat Pixie Stix!"

Donatello silently snickered as he reached for a handful of popcorn. Sometimes it was advantageous to be the quiet, intelligent, always innocent one.

April picked up her cup and swirled the tea around. The little bit that was left in it had gone cold while she had been celebrating the Oilers' goal. She pulled her foam #1 sign off her hand and sat it down in the chair after she stood up.

"I'm getting some more tea, does anybody want anything from the kitchen?" she asked politely. Four empty cups were immediately thrust at her. Sighing, she stacked the plastic cups onto each other and held them in one hand while she held her tea in the other.

"Do you some help, April?" Donnie asked as he watched her try to balance everything. Giving him an appreciative smile, she shook her head.

"No, I've got it," April told him and then started heading towards the kitchen. She turned her head to toss a wry look over her shoulder. "A 'thanks April, you're the best' would be nice."

"Thanks, April, you're the best," they all parroted without too much enthusiasm. Satisfied, the red head disappeared into the kitchen.

Everything was calm. No one was shouting, glaring, or trying to cut down the other person's team with some witty or less-than-witty remark. Then…

"Cam Ward can take Jussi Markkanen any day," Raphael said, crossing his arms over his plastron. Leonardo and Casey both frowned while Donatello just sat back, wishing he had sat anywhere else besides between those two and Raph. He felt like a living turtle wall that had accidentally been caught between constantly warring armies.

"Ward's a little league player compared to Markkanen," growled Casey.

"For once, and this sort of hurts to say it, but Casey's right," said Leo. The expression on his face was one of disbelief, as if he could not imagine he had just supported something that came from Casey Jones' mouth. "Ward's a rookie, Markkanen's been doing this for much longer." Leo was a strong believer in practice makes perfect.

"That don't mean that he ain't better," Raphael replied, raising his chin with arrogant team pride. "The Hurricanes'll win and it's gonna be because of Ward."

"April, Mikey, the game's back on!" Donatello shouted as the Stanley Cup theme music poured out of the speakers. Maybe the game would stop the brewing argument.

"Be right there!" April called. The noise of ice being tossed haphazardly into cups came from the kitchen.

With all the excitement of a five-year-old, Mikey ran back in and skidded to a stop right in front of the TV. A record-breaking grin was stamped onto his face. One hand was behind his shell (that was never a good thing with Mikey) and there were no Pixie Stix in sight.

"Mikey, we can't see the game," Leonardo said with annoyance, staring at his youngest brother. Michelangelo did not say anything but his grin took up another impossible inch of his face.

"You better move. Real quick," threatened Raphael, his fingers dancing close to his sai. Mikey did not move.

"Move, Mikey!" raged Casey. He grabbed the empty two liter bottle and chunked it at Michelangelo's head. Tapping into his instinctive ninja reflexes, the orange-wearing turtle deflected the bottle with his arm. It bounced off and hit the floor harmlessly.

With the hand that he had kept hidden, Mikey pulled something out from behind his shell. It was a thick, colorful cardboard tube with a long stick stuck in it. A lengthy piece of string was attached to the bottom of the tube. The end of the string was sparking with an active flame. Donatello grasped the edge of the couch, his jaw falling open.

"Oh, please tell me that's not what I'm hoping it isn't, is it?" he asked in a nervous rush. He had automatically recognized the tube as one of the mortar fireworks from the stash Raph and Mikey were saving up for the 4th of July.

"Mikey!" Leo and Raph yelled in perfect unison while Donnie was talking. Leo was already half-way off the couch, a shocked expression on his face. Raphael was frozen, just gawking at Michelangelo and his incredible lack of common sense.

"Huh?" Casey grunted. He didn't see the problem with a big fake birthday candle.

Mikey laughed. "Aw, chill out, guys, I've got it under control," he said and grabbed at the fuse. He yelped as he was burnt by the fire that was rapidly eating up the string.

"What, wait, one second," he said, his voice getting higher as he began to panic. Regardless of the flame, he wrapped his hand around the string and tried to pull it out. It was like it was cemented on. Mikey's eyes visibly enlarged.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed at the firework in his hands. He frantically waved the firework in the air above his head like a sparkler and spun around in a circle. He looked like a deranged Voodoo doctor trying to do an awkward rain dance. Leonardo was beside Michelangelo in a second, trying to get him to hand over the firework.

"Give it here! Give it to me, Mikey, right now! GIVE ME THAT THING!"

Unable to indulge in intelligent thought at the moment, Mikey bypassed Leonardo and grabbed the closest thing to him that might help. Still shrieking, Michelangelo flung the firework onto the ground and hurled Master Splinter's favorite throw blanket on top of it.

"Die, die, die, you demon firecracker!" Mikey shouted as he stomped on the blanket. He had seen people on TV put out fires that way before, minus the shouting part. By now, Donatello, Raphael, and Casey had vacated the couch and shot off in different directions to escape. Leonardo snagged Michelangelo's flailing arm and gave him a good, hard shove away from the blanket. Leo managed to dive behind Splinter's chair just as the fuse ran out of the live explosive.

BBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOOM!

The mortar shot into the air sideways with an ear-piercing squeal, taking the blanket with it. Mikey was not the only one who screamed this time as the firework hit the wall. It skipped up to the ceiling then exploded into green and gold cinders that lit up the lair. It was a split-second of beautiful, terrifying wonder before the smoke started to choke them all into coughing.

"What are you guys doing in here?" April demanded as she came rushing in from the kitchen. One minute she was fixing a new kettle of green tea and then KA-BOOM! She waved her hands in front of her as she hit the billowing cloud of smoke. "Is everyone alright?" she called out worriedly.

Someone grabbed April's arm as she picked her way farther into the room; she had to stifle a frightened squeak. "Casey?" she asked as he clung to her, glaring while he tried to stop coughing. He was covered in soot and his black hair had a wind-blown look. "You're looking hot," she said sarcastically.

"I'm gonna kill him," Raphael snarled as he stumbled out of the hallway that he had hidden in. "I'm really gonna kill him this time." He pointed a sai into the fog. "Do you hear me, Mikey? I will maimyou."

"Don't touch him, Raph," Leonardo called, emerging from behind Splinter's armchair. He could not see anything; he had never seen smoke so thick, not even when Donatello had burned an entire pot of spaghetti and the garlic bread that went with it. "Don't even lay a finger on him."

"Give me one good reason, Leo."

"Because I want the honor of killing him."

"That's not very brotherly of you guys," Michelangelo half-joked, a trembling note in his voice.

"Great mistake, Mikey!" yelled Raphael, heading towards where he had last seen his little brother, "Real wonderful. Remind me to write that on your grave, 'It was a mistake.'"

"Where are you?" Leonardo asked in an emotionless tone.

"Nowhere," Mikey's disembodied voice replied. He was afraid of his brothers' combined wrath. Having Raphael furious at you was one thing but having an angry Leo on your hands…now that was something scary. Revenge was a dark specialty of his.

Leonardo walked directly towards Michelangelo's voice. He found the orange-wearing turtle huddled down in-between the couch and the coffee table.

"Hey, Mikey," he said gently, squatting down beside him. Mikey looked up, round eyes standing out against his grimy black face. His war paint had been sticky, turning him into a reptilian soot-magnet.

"Hey, Leo," he said with a tentative smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm…okay?"

"Good," Leo said. He grabbed the knot of his brother's bandanna and yanked him to his feet. The calm composure that he had been keeping up broke as he caught sight of the remains of Sensei's blanket and the tube of the firework. The blanket had melted over the tube and the whole thing was still smoldering.

"This is the biggest mess you've ever made!" Leonardo began, flinging his arms around as if to express his rage through body motion. "Look at the lair! Are you insane? Wait, don't even answer that, I know the answer! This is crazy, Mikey, what were you thinking, wait, oh yeah, you didn't think, silly me. You could've killed us! Master Splinter is going to…" he paused for a second, sick at the thought of their Sensei finding out about this, "You know, I don't even want to think about what Master Splinter is going to do. I'll tell you what you're going to do, though, you're going to clean the whole lair with your toothbrush-"

"Guys," April broke in, "Where's Donatello?"

Leonardo paused in his rant and looked around. Raphael was standing nearby, breathing hard as he waited for Leo to finish so he could pound Mikey. April and Casey were near the kitchen and he was yelling at Mikey…so where was Donnie?

"I gooooooott IIIITTT!" Donatello came bounding into the main area of the lair, holding the fire extinguisher from his lab in the engaged position. "Watch out!"

The white foam sprayed out of the black nozzle and covered everything with a fire-proof layer of goo. Leonardo threw his arms in front of his face as Donny aimed the nozzle his way. Mikey grabbed the popcorn bowl. Popcorn flew everywhere, but he managed to get it in front of his face like a shield before the foam hit. Unfortunately, Raphael had started to say 'stop' and he got a mouthful of the vile, probably potentially poisonous stuff. He immediately spat it out.

"Donnie! Donnie, stop!" April shrieked as she and Casey retreated into the kitchen where it was safe. Donatello did not hear her because he was too busy yelling and shooting with the fire extinguisher. It was suddenly ripped from his hands. Confused, he turned and found a white-faced Raphael next to him, holding the pilfered fire extinguisher.

"Oh, sorry, Raph, I guess I got you, too," Donnie said, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. Using his pumping adrenaline, Raphael ripped off the top part of the firing mechanism. He tossed the now harmless fire extinguisher back at his purple-wearing brother.

"Guess so," he said, giving Donnie a hard look before heading back over to Leo and Mikey. Donnie put the useless fire extinguisher down on the ground and carefully followed him.

"Mikey, stupid question, I know, but do you want to explain why you just set a mortar off in our house?" Leonardo asked, rubbing one hand down his face, smudging his own soot. Mikey shrugged and stopped blowing on his quickly blistering hands.

"You're not going to like it…"

"Try us," April said testily as she and Casey joined them. She had one hand on her hip and her foot was tapping a tattoo against the floor.

"Well," he started slowly, "you know on Looney Tunes when they light a stick of dynamite and they can pull out the fuse right before it blows up?" They all just stared at him with incredulous faces so he continued. "Yeah, so I was trying to do that, but I was going to use a firecracker so I wouldn't blow the lair up…"

"That plan worked perfectly!" exclaimed Raphael, throwing his hands into the air. "You wait, Mikey, you're gonna regret this. So much."

Leonardo sighed. "And why did you do it during the hockey game?" That was one of the more annoying parts of this ill-fated prank.

Mikey grinned and rocked back on his heels, obviously pleased with himself now that he was explaining his brilliant plan.

"It was more effective that way," he said, eliciting groans from the rest of them, "Dude, you were all so involved in the game that you never even saw it coming!"

"Neither did you, actually," said Donnie, wearing the beginnings of a smirk. Mikey made a long-suffering face and bowed his head. He knew that he was not going to hear the end of this for a long time.

"It was supposed to be a firecracker!"