[OOM: On the roof, in a tent that dreams of being a studio apartment...]

*Raph is attempting to feed himself. No it's not the act of eating that has him flummoxed, it's the part that comes before the eating that seems to continually get the better of him. Cooking is not Raph's friend. This is why there's a still slightly smoldering pot in the kitchen sink, and why he's grumbling as he eats his sandwich on the couch of the living room portion of his studio. Only slightly louder than his cantankerous mutterings is the sound of the Wizard Wireless off in the corner. Holyhead Harpies are playing Pride of Portree*