Hi. Just a bit of something I've been trying to write for ages. I dedicate this story to DeeMG in particular, and to my other peeps in general.

TMNT are the property of Viacom and Nickelodeon, and they'd BETTER not let M. Night Shyamalan anywhere NEAR the new TMNT movie OR ELSE!

Escape Plan

The looks on their faces were like well-written novels.

Splinter, usually master of his visual emotions, seemed overwhelmed with surprise- tinged with just a hint of disbelief, mixed with fatherly pride and parental justification in the deep belief that his son really had been paying attention all those years.

Raph, skepticism long ago pushed to the side by disbelief, then grudging admiration, struggled vainly to keep his face noncommittal, but even Mike could see that his brother was impressed.

Leonardo and Donatello, however...

Splinter, finally sparing his other sons a look, was momentarily at a loss as to which of the remaining two were more shocked.

Leonardo's face was a study of impotent desperation. His mind raced over and over the presentation his youngest brother had just spent the last fifteen minutes outlining to them, desperately searching for any flaw, any tiny mistake- any trace of "Mikey"- and no matter how much he studied and restudied the charts, the maps, the diagrams that Mike had presented via white board, hand-drawn poster boards, and PowerPoint™, he could not find one thing to criticize.

Donatello sat in complete rejection of the entire notion that his brother- that anyone- could have devised such a complete and utterly flawless plan- unless he himself had done so. This was not possible. Not possible.

"Not possible," he said aloud, his voice sounding harsh in its disbelief.

"It is possible," Leo said, eyes still straining to find fault and failing. "It's... Mike, HOW did you come up with such a foolproof escape plan?"

"Emphasis on the 'fool'," both Raph and Don muttered in unison, then, startled, they glanced guiltily at each other

"Why are you guys so surprised?" Mike countered. "Think just because I'm 'Mikey' I can't plan?"

"No, not at all," Leo managed to say, though his tone of voice belied his words. "But all of this... what about the water exit?"

"Covered, remember?" Mike hit a button on his keyboard, and the PowerPoint™ page he needed sprang back onto the screen. "The emergency supplies and extra weapons are stored in watertight packaging and stored in this side channel. They can be easily snagged on the way out, or recovered at a later date. No way they will find them!"

"What if..." Don began, but Mike seemed to anticipate any and all "What if" questions. Reverting to his white board, he once again pointed out five different sections in the sewers where a lone Turtle could find weapons, food, and first-aid supplies, all carefully concealed from the errant city worker, sewer rat, or anyone else for that matter.

Once again he pulled up on his PowerPoint™, page seventy-three, and highlighted the seven reunion sites, along with the various suggestions for communicating with each other, assuming that shell-cells or other electronics were out of commission.

And all the time, he kept assuring and reassuring them that "they" could never find any of this; that "they" weren't capable of reaching this location or that hiding place; that "they" could be easily beaten with patience and determination.

"My son," Splinter finally said. "I am extremely pleased with your plans."

Mike beamed like only Mike could. Then he produced five booklets, which turned out to be the entire presentation complete with color illustrations, bound together neatly and each with an imaginatively decorated cover. "Michelangelo's Escape Plan" seemed rather a modest title considering the turtle in question (Splinter wasn't the only one to think this), but other than the strange enemies he had chosen to decorate the front with, it was a thing of beauty to the proud Sensei.

"Mike, why do you have zombies all over the cover?" Raph asked. "Why not the Foot?"

Mike's face went from glowing pride to slight disbelief at his brother.

"Because the Foot have nothing to do with this," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Haven't you been listening?"

Silent confusion reigned for all of ten seconds; then...

"This is about ZOMBIES?"

Splinter, startled by the outburst of Donatello, turned a questioning look upon his youngest.

"Zombies, Mike? ZOMBIES?" Donatello was in full voice. He was off his chair, nearly beak to beak with Mike. "You spent how many weeks gathering food and weapons and planning all of this? For ZOMBIES?"

"Well, YEAH! Who did you think I was talking about?" Mike snapped back. "I've only been talking about them for the last fifteen minutes!"

"Mike, you never once mentioned the word 'zombies'," Leo sternly replied. "You pulled us all together with the announcement that you had come up with the ultimate escape plan! We thought you meant from the Foot!"

"Why would you think this is about the Foot?" Mike countered.

"Uh, because they have already destroyed one of our homes, perhaps?" Raph countered, gesturing with the handout Mike had given him. "You remember Karai, right? The current leader? Homicidal nutcase trying to avenge her slug-ugly 'daddy'?"

"This is about that damn Zombie marathon you tried to get me to watch with you last month, isn't it?" Don continued, beginning to back his brother into a corner, finger poking Mike's plastron for emphasis. "I told you to not watch that thing. I warned you about how it was a bad idea. I reminded you- REPEATEDLY- about how you get after watching those stupid films!"

"HEY! 'Dawn of the Dead' is NOT a stupid film!" Mike shouted back. "That movie was chosen the number one Best Zombie film on several top ten lists! And 'Zombieland' is a modern classic!"

Splinter, without a word, left the room to go meditate (first stopping by the kitchen to retrieve the sake from the top shelf).

Raph, with a "what a doofus", tossed the booklet of plans carelessly on the couch and headed out to meet up with Casey, muttering about if he had to hang with a bonehead, it should be a bonehead he wasn't related to.

Don, streaming a long-worded and intricate opinion of his brother's plans in general and the loss of his own precious time in particular, vanished into his lab, slamming the door for emphasis.

"Leo," Mike said, looking confused. "It's a good plan! YOU said so!"

Leo sighed inwardly.

"Yes, it's a good plan. But consider this, Mike- there are no zombies."

Leo was privately pleased that he'd pulled that sentence off without any trace of anger or condemnation or condescension whatsoever.

"Have you ever seen a zombie?"

Good lord... Mikey logic was starting to kick in. Leo felt the threat, and looked for a way to escape.

"You know, if you ask the average New Yorker 'are there any ninja in the city?', they'd say 'No!'," Mike continued. "And if you asked them 'have you ever seen a ninja?', they'd say 'no', and yet they DO exist, so saying zombies don't exist just because you've never seen one is like saying that air doesn't exist because you can't see it or that-"

Mike was now speaking to an empty room. Somewhere in his long defense, Leonardo had demonstrated "ninja vanish" with the usual skill and finesse that he possessed.

Mike turned back to his presentation. They'd apologize eventually. Once the zombie apocalypse hit, they'd all be apologizing- if they were still alive, that is, and not being served up on some zombie dinner table.

Meanwhile, he had work to do. As excellent as the plan was, it needed fine-tuning. Someone had once said "If you ask ten of your friends if they have a zombie escape plan, at least one will say 'yes'".

It was up to Hamato Michelangelo to be that "one".