Summary: Leo has to face one of his most fearsome challenges yet.

Author's Notes: One-shot written for the Untimate Fanfic challenge, with no seriousness whatsoever involved. To see all the other fics that I've posted, follow the link on my author's page to my LiveJournal. Enjoy!

Leonardo had fought off hordes of foot soldiers at a time, gone hand to hand with the Shredder, Hun, and Karai multiple times and survived against all odds. He was at the peak of his training, much more advanced than any of his brothers. He was an unstoppable machine. No one who dared to challenge him left the fight unscathed. No fight, no challenge, no contest was too much for him to accomplish.
Except, perhaps, for this one.
Mikey had requested a morning off of cooking duty, and no one else had wanted to take a turn… So Leonardo had volunteered.

"You sure you wanna do this, bro? You're looking a little green." Mikey had quipped at him before making a quick exit. Leo snorted. Michaelangelo was just being obnoxious. He could SO do this. He was good at everything else, so this should be a snap.

Yes. A snap.

He glared at a slightly dented frying pan stubbornly. This time, it'll be different. He told himself. Never again would he have to retreat in shame from the kitchen, chased out of the room by clouds of billowing smoke and horrific smells.

Never again.

With a determined face took a deep breath, reached forward to grab the handle of the pan, and got to work.

Ten minutes later, he sat in the infirmary nursing a pair of scalded hands. Beyond the doorway, he could hear the sounds of a minor battle taking place as Donatello and Mikey tried to contain the small explosion that had occurred when he attempted to cook eggs and potatoes at the same time- in the microwave.

He scowled at the memory. It had seemed like a good idea at the time… and he had been so sure that he had seen Michaelangelo do the exact same thing only a few days before.

He looked up as Mikey walked into the room. His eyes widened in surprise as the younger turtle stormed up to him brandishing what was left of a metal spoon.

"I used to call myself a reasonable turtle, dude, but enough is enough. This is what, the THIRD time you've trashed the microwave?"

"In my defense, the last time it was Raph's fault." Leo said sulkily.

Mike rolled his eyes and growled out, "Yeah, but you told him that aluminum foil was supposed to do that when it got nuked." He poked Leo in the plastron with the charred spoon, accentuating each word with a fervent stab. "You. Are. A. Menace!" The metal crumbled to ash with the last word, and Leo hastily moved his throbbing hands so they wouldn't be touched by any of the falling debris. Mike looked at the handle of the spoon that he still held in his hand, then shook his head.

"Okay, dude, I hate to say this, but you're fired. Just… don't do kitchen stuff anymore, okay?"

Leo snapped his head up. Failure! NEVER!


"Dude, have you seen the kitchen since you blew it up!" Leo hadn't, but it had been hard to see through the ominous clouds of sickly green and black smoke that had erupted from the microwave just after the door blew off. "You're cursed, bro. Just accept it and move on. It'll be better for all of us."

"Mikey! I could use some help in- AHH!" The loud metallic clang that followed Don's anguished yell caused Michaelangelo to run from the room without another word to his depressed brother.

Leo was left alone with this thoughts… and the frying pan, one of the few things salvaged from the battle-zone that was the kitchen.

He gave it the evil eye. Yes, he had failed. It was a stain on his honor that he just couldn't accept. But at the same time… he couldn't help but feel a little relieved.

Cooking was hard.