An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
"Leo, puh-lease, you can't balance that for more than a minute."
"Ha! Bet."
Casey looked up from his computer only to immediately regret doing so. He blinked uncomprehendingly. What the—?
"Leo, you and I both know you can't balance like that for shit," Mikey said from his spot on the couch, lying upside down as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. He was by far the least weird part of this situation.
"Tell that to my pizza box stack record. Not even Raph could break that." Leon was walking across the backs of several chairs lined up, his katana, for some reason, balanced on his head, the pummel of the hilt on his head as the blade wobbled precariously in the air.
"Isn't that a safety hazard…?" Casey trailed off. He watched as Leon took another wobbly step and sighed. He wouldn't be able to stop this, would he?
"Only if I let it be," Leon grinned as he took another step, ignoring Mikey's call of "That doesn't even make sense," as he continued, arms held aloft for balance as he tilted to the right before centring himself again. "And Mikey, where's your optimism? You were full of it when I did the pizza box challenge!"
Mikey shrugged the best he could while upside down. "Well, that was when you were trying to beat Don's record." He tossed another piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Now you're just being a dumbass."
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