Hey, welcome back kids! Told ya I had turtles on the mind. And not just yer average, teenage mutant ninja kind, no. I'm talkin' yer more sizeable heavyweight sumo kind! But why should I get to be solely responsible for yer fap-material when I can get you all to participate, too? So here's the deal: Y'see these four guys? Yer good buddy Brock's gonna work a little narrative magic on 'em, and see what it takes to make sumos outta ninjas. At the end, I'll give ya some choices, and everyone gets a vote on which choice I follow through on. But there ain't no reset button, and no whinin' either, so whatever choice you guys pick is the one yer stuck with. Don't worry, though, I'm sure this'll be a fun little ride however the voting goes. Heh! Anyway, on with the story...

- - - - -

It was just another evening in Manhattan, and underneath the city streets, it was just another evening for everyone's favorite mutant ninja team. In one corner of their sewer lair, the constant slap of Raphael's fists against his punching bag, punctuated by his grunts of effort (and sadistic pleasure), beat out a rhythm that was a nightly indulgence. It was no wonder that he was the strongest of the four, and he was proud of how his arms bulged with powerful ninja muscle. Physical training was the safest way for him to let off steam, so his brothers found it to be a comfort, too.

Donatello was hunched over his workbench, focusing on something completely different. While he was the leanest of the four turtles, his mind was as developed as Raph's muscles, and he applied it daily to his strange and eccentric inventions. He loved how technology worked, and was always thrilled when they encountered advanced alien civilizations, or time travelers from the future, because it meant new ideas for him to apply, and maybe even a bit of their tech to reverse engineer, too. Humming absently to himself (and making sure he didn't set his bandanna ablaze this time), he fired up his blowtorch and got to fine-tuning the last bits of his latest invention.

While his brothers liked to apply themselves physically and mentally in their spare time, Michelangelo was happy to just sit back with the last few slices of greasy pizza and kick the shell out of a few video games. This, along with keeping up on his favorite comic books, was also a nightly ritual of sorts, which explained why he was a bit thicker around the middle than the others. It was certainly nothing for anyone to be concerned about, since he still did just as well as everyone else during training, but Raph had been known to poke Mikey in the side when he was in one of his fouler moods and call him a porker or soft-shell. Michelangelo didn't mind the names much, though, as they were easily forgotten after another round or two of video games.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to his three brothers, Leonardo was not in his room meditating. Instead, the leader and most focused of the group had snuck out and up to the surface to follow a rumor he'd heard the other night about the Foot Clan operating in the city again. Despite their best efforts to use the darkness of the winding Manhattan alleyways as cover, he'd managed to trail them without being spotted, and had finally managed to close in on their base. He had no idea what they could be up to, or how dangerous the situation was, but when the Foot were involved, he knew there was going to be trouble. He'd have to do a little reconnaissance first, and see if there was still time to get his brothers to help out...

Who do we focus on?

1) Michelangelo

2) Raphael

3) Leonardo

4) Donatello

Remember, we're only goin' with one choice here, but that doesn't mean the other turtles won't get involved in some way, eventually. You got two days! You'll know who won when I cross-out the others!