"Uh, Mikey, I think I've deciphered your problem." Donatello ducked out of Michelangelo's room after his quest to return a borrowed CD and peered down to the family room, where his brothers were piled on the couch watching a B horror flick on television.

"I don't think Mikey's got just one problem," Leonardo said automatically. "Hasn't that guy already died?" he asked, pointing to a creature on the television set.

"That's the thing that ate Chuck," Raphael told him without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Which one's Chuck?"

"The one that got eaten."

"You mean Chris?"

"Whatever."

"Raph, like fifty people have been eaten in this movie. How do you know that was the one that got Chris?"

"It's played by the same guy."

"Remember," Michelangelo popped in, "the creatures take on the crude form of whatever they eat."

"Which makes me wonder," Raph interjected, "what'll happen if one of 'em eats a dog turd or somethin'."

Leo rolled his eyes toward Raph. "Why would they do that?"

"You're askin' that about this movie, Leo? I think we're already past the suspension a' disbelief issue."

"Mikey," Donnie said loudly.

Mikey glanced up at his prodigious brother, a huge grin splayed across his face. "Yeah?"

"Remember how you were wondering why Klunk's been so lethargic?"

"Yeah?" Mikey's attention was suddenly attracted by a shriek emitted from the television. "Whoa, no way! Not Frankie!"

"Mikey, she was single an' hot," Raph pointed out. "Single, hot chicks always die!"

Mikey muttered something under his breath.

"Klunk! Lethargic!" yelled Donnie, beginning to lose his patience.

"Is he okay?" Mikey called without looking away from the television.

"He's pregnant."

One desperate scramble for the remote later, the television was muted. "Say WHAT?"

"Klunk. Is. Pregnant."

There was a pause.

"He's WHAT?"

"PREG-NANT."

Mikey stared at his brother, mouth opening and closing in a wonderful impersonation of a large tropical fish. Leo glanced up at Don. "Klunk's a BOY, Donnie."

"Evidently not."

An ungracious snort emerged from Raphael's nostrils. A smile toyed with Leo's mouth. "He's not?"

"Klunk is most definitely not a boy," Donnie said with an amused grin. "In fact, I'd go so far as to say Klunk is female."

"FEMALE?" Mikey all but shrieked.

"How'd you miss that, Mikey?" Leo wondered aloud.

Raph gave Mikey a hearty thwack upside the head. "Didn't ya look, or what?"

"Hey!" Mikey said loudly. "Some things are private and should be kept private! Even with cats!"

"Mikey, Klunk washes that private area in public," Donnie pointed out. "Did you ever notice that three little things were...not there?"

Mikey shook his head in disbelief. "This is crazy. Klunk can't get pregnant. I mean, even if he is a girl, and I'm not saying I think he is," he added loudly in case the aforementioned feline could hear and be offended, "there aren't any other cats around. I mean, how many cats are in the sewers?"

"It only takes one more," Donnie said in a sing-song manner, clearly enjoying his brother's misery.

Leo was laughing quietly. Raph smacked Mikey on the back. "I think congratulations are in order, Dad," he said with a grin that positively dripped poison.

Mikey made a small sound of indignation. "I'm not Dad!"

"It's your cat," Donnie reminded him.

"Klunk can't get pregnant!"

Raph gave a sharp laugh. "Then you'd better tell him to cut back on the lasagna, 'cause Garfield's fat."

"He can't get pregnant 'cause he's not female!"

"Face it, Mikey—your freakin' cat got knocked up."

At Raph's words, Leo completely lost it, doubling over and shaking with peals of helpless laughter.

Mikey frowned. "He did not. You guys are just playing some sick joke, and it's not funny. I mean...I..." He flailed for words. "What makes you think he's pregnant, anyway?"

Donnie rubbed the back of his neck. "I was just thinking that because his water just broke all over your bed..."

Mikey bolted from the couch and scrambled for the stairs.

"...But since he's obviously a non-pregnant male, I don't think you have anything to worry about," Donnie finished as Mikey zipped past him and into the bedroom.

Klunk had three kittens on Michelangelo's bed. April said it was a compliment—cats usually give birth in secluded places. Mikey would have preferred, however, for Klunk's affection to be shown in a way that did not force him to sleep on the couch while his sheets were washed and his mattress replaced. Dead rats no longer seemed like such bad anytime gifts.

After the kittens were weaned, April took two home—a calico for herself and a black-and-white male for Casey's mother. The third, a pure black female with brilliant green eyes, adopted Raphael, much to his dismay, although Leonardo was witness to late-night chin-scratchings that indicated that his brother's feelings were in conflict with his public opinion. Raphael gruffly assured them that this was only a temporary alliance until another parent could be found and that he didn't even like cats. No one believed him.

Michelangelo, in spite of his earlier denial and protestations, was quite proud of the kittens, making friends with all of them and parting with them reluctantly. He was satisfied, nonetheless, with an even closer relationship with Klunk, regardless of his—that is, her—sex.

Nevertheless, she was spayed as immediately as possible.

Author's Notes: This is the closest thing to mpreg that I will ever write. Remember to review. I love constructive criticism. Flames will meet the power of my asbestos suit.