[This. This is how he's going to die, doing sit-ups because these two recommended them. He is one hundred percent sure of this. He scrubs a hand down his face, taking a moment to accept his inevitable demise, before glancing between the two turtles. What's with the sudden interest in his computer? He can't really tell if that's Donnie being Donnie.]
Fine. When this kills me I'm going to blame you two.
no subject
Fine. When this kills me I'm going to blame you two.