Late night in the lair. The rest of the turtles are asleep or otherwise occupied. The smell of pizza still lingers in the kitchen.

Mikey was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, half-munching leftover pizza, when he heard it:

Scritch-scratch-squeak.

He sat up instantly, ears perked. “…What the shell was that?”

Another tiny sound — a rustle on the counter.

He leapt up like a spring, landing silently, heart racing with excitement. “Ohhhhhh! We got a visitor!!”

From the shadows, a small figure tumbled down—tail flicking, ears flattening, and clutching a pizza box like a treasure chest.

Mikey froze for a split second, then grinned wide. “DUDE. She’s tiny! And she’s got a tail! And she stole pizza!”