The building was large.

IT was over twenty stories high, and with another extra floor or two containing a cafe, a pub, a disco and luxury gardens on either sides of the rooftop for those who would pay wealth to obtain them for themselves. The last two floors were the most expensive ones in the entire building, only one person on the face of this planet could manage to make themselves settled there for the past few years without worry or disturbance.

In this world some rules did not apply, since it wasn't Earth. Many creatures from all around the galaxy came and went through this building. It was the largest and most expensive hotel this part of the galaxy could offer.

And their luck was true to form, because they just had to go in there, somehow...

The receptionist was typically a giant Triceraton, casually working on the guest book to sort out the free rooms from the packed ones, and that's when a noise right to his left came. He blinked. There was nothing there when he looked. With a frown, he shrugged it off and returned his attention to the giant list of names in front of him. He had just received a call to book a room to a guest who claimed great importance, and had to sift through the list to see if any were available. The client was still on the phone, on hold. The service had to be perfect, therefore he had to shuffle quickly to see if any rooms were available.

Room number 236 occupied. 237 occupied. 238 occupied... room --Thunk!

He jumped at the noise, frowned again and glanced to the far side of the lobby where a suitcase lay on its side. A skinny, and probably clumsy looking fellow muttered under his breath, rubbed his backside where he seemed to have fallen, got up and then tried to haul the heavy case up again. The receptionist eyed him warily, then went back to his book.

If there was anything fishy, the security would catch it. The cameras were all over the place. He could spot four right on the opposite wall past the lobby, watching his counter directly and constantly. His position was close to the main doors and held great information for anyone who might try to hijack the place. His emergency weapons may not be enough to stop any danger if it were to happen.

Another thud, the skinny man cursed, pushed up and irately kicked the suitcase...

-- and his shoe flew right across the room to hit the receptionist on the snout!

The Triceraton, jumped, the sting of the leather object stung his nostril and made his eyes all teary, he couldn't see anything for a few seconds. Once his vision cleared, he rubbed the small hurting spot, and then turned a glare to the clumsy green-skinned man with a warning bark and order to watch where he's aiming.

The skinny man jumped-- He was dressed awkwardly alien, like a earth-human-tourist type with what was called a Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat, but nothing out of the usual considering his overall appearance, as well as the reputation of this building; it tended to attracted all sorts of weird creatures from the far corners of the world-- still, the tourist fellow was a bit suspicious. The skinny man mumbled an apology, and then apprehensively approached to retrieve his shoe.

The receptionist threw it back, not wanting this guy too close to his counter. Once the person took his item, put it back on and then returned to his giant suitcase, he began hauling it out the door.

The receptionist watched him leave, snorted then returned to his book.

Room 238 was... free? Odd, he could have sworn it was occupied earlier, or was he looking at room 237? He shook his head, and restarted from 230 in alignment with the computer data to make sure the room was indeed correct. Once sure, he picked up the phone to inform the client that a room was available, and requested their information in order to register the room for them.

Just as soon as he had finished the registry and was ending the call, someone arrived at the counter, he gestured for him to wait a moment till he was done with the phone call... damn, he really needed someone to split the job with, this was taking forever...

"Yes, may I be of service?" he finally said to the- couple?

He blinked. The one before him was a humanoid-turtle of sorts in a classic-human style suit, decked in black and white and a large cheerful smile. (Was that a smear of lipstick on his neck?) Besides him was... a bride? Her dress was a beautiful arrangement of silk and satin and adorned with multiple patterns and decorations, clearly Triceraton tailoring, it added to the beauty of her dress.

He could barely tell how she looked like from all the pieces of fabric covering her. Oddly she still had her veil on her face, probably shy. Still, she was about a head taller than her groom, he found that amusing. Probably an Earthling custom or something...

"Yeah, we registered a room, is it available?" the green skinned fellow grinned. "Under 'Michelangelo Splintersan',"

"Just a moment please," the receptionist said, typed on the computer and though it took the machine a bit longer than usual to find the name, it appeared-- as room 238? He frowned a bit, but didn't think much about it. "Ah, yes, I just received your call moment ago, let me contact someone to show you to your room."

"Thanks dude, my darling and I are pretty tired, we could use the cuddle time," he sent a large grin at his wife...

... who only tightened herself, shoulders squared, and growled a bit in reply, making her husband chuckle... perhaps a bit too-happily.

Oh, she was clearly a feisty one; kinky…

Clearing his throat, the receptionist handed them the card-keys to their room. Soon another alien creature arrived to lead them to the correct floor. Watching them go, he could have sworn the woman- limped? Well, there was clearly something odd in the way she walked... probably them crazy human shoes that could stab someone's eyes out, who knew...

Just then, there was a rustle behind him, he flinched and turned around.

But there was nothing there...

With a frown, he glanced back to the computer screen and was just about to get back to work when something smacked his head from behind. With a yelp, he snarled and spun around again-- only to slip and slid, hitting the floor face first as he stepped on something.

With an angry sneer he pushed off the floor, looked at his feet and found... a soap bar? The hell? He rubbed his head, kicked it under a chair and muttered a string of curses to himself. It was probably one of those bratty spoiled rich kids at their irritating pranks again. Oh! If he could figure out who they were, he was sure to tan their tails so hard they'd glow bright enough to blind out the sun!

Looking back at the keyboard, he could have sworn it was tilted, and the screen flickered for a second... he shook his head, maybe he was seeing things and it moved when he tripped just earlier. Adjusting the keyboard, he went back to work as if nothing had happened.

-- Elsewhere --

The green skinned turtle quietly entered the room with his wife in tow. Once the door was locked and their guide was away, the husband was firmly pinned to the wall by a pair of hefty, muscular and roughly bandaged arms. The veins bulged from the amount of blood rushing through them.

"Mike! Give me One Good Reason why I shouldn't Bite Your Head Off!" the 'wife' snarled, arms tight around the neck, golden eyes shone from under the tugged-off veil.

"Raphie! Don't be mad, it ruins your complexion!" Mike squeaked helplessly.

Raphael only squeezed tighter, making Mike croak, gasping for breath.

"Raph, let him go," came a tired command from the distant window, "we're in here now, this mission is just going to get harder without you trying to kill him." the leader said as he took off the silly straw hat and Hawaiian shirt, then casually dropped the over-sized shoes to the side near the shoe rack; they were a pain to try and walk in.

Donatello slipped with ease behind him from the window, and then scanned the area before he locked it. Curious, he glanced down and blinked. That was quite the climb they just achieved.

With a thump, the 'husband' was dropped to the floor by the growling wife, coughing out hoarsely and gasping for sweet soothing air. "So much for the perfect honeymoon, love!" he thirstily wheezed, "You hug like a grizzly bear!" he weakly smiled.

"Oh I'll give you a death hug alright!" Raphael growled, tossed away the veil and popped his knuckles, then leaped at the smaller turtle.

Mike squeaked and dodged, letting the larger turtle chase him for a few feet, before his 'wife' tripped over the hem of the dress during the chase, and end up hitting the bed face first.

Once on his feet, Mike grinned wide, yanked the Bo staff from Donatello's grasp, and ignoring the turtle's complaint, smacked the larger turtle's perked backside.

Raphael jumped with a yelp, then froze as his face turned from green to red, then to purple.

"Did you know it's a Triceraton custom to spank your wife rosy on your first night?" Mike leered, wiggling a brow. "They say it adds to the experience."

Leo palmed his face and groaned in disdain, as Raphael's bellow of rage almost shook the whole building like an earthquake, before he rampage-stomped after a manically laughing Michelangelo with a flustered face and the glint of murder in his eyes.

"If this doesn't blow our cover, I don't know what will..." Donatello sighed and rubbed his face. "And I went through so much trouble to get into that computer…" he rolled his eyes.

"Mike was the only with an un-bandaged face who could pass as a groom, and you and I couldn't fit in that large dress; it was the only one we could afford... I was hoping Raph would be a bit more understanding..." the leader shook his head.

"Raph! Don't rip the thing! Traximus had it rented!" Don cried in warning as the hothead flipped a table with everything on it.

Leo walked over to the window and pulled the drapes, just so the constant movements won't attract attention from the opposite building. "This is going to be a long rescue mission..." he muttered.

All the neighboring rooms could hear was laughter, thumping footsteps, things breaking, roaring and shouts begging for mercy...

One of them was already filing a complaint...


A/N: .... just trying my hand at parody / humor / somewhat-crack idea... -shifty eyes-