It's rather retro in the turtle's book, but he kind of digs the vibe. "Colored LED lighting would really make this place pop," he says, probably envisioning upgrades as he strolls along. "Just run it through the open paneling, along the pipes- I'm thinking heliotrope!"

Donatello pops his head into the cockpit with a gasp, eyes practically sparkling as he takes in all the controls, or maybe it's just the lighting. He is quick to plop himself into the pilot's chair, hands raised high with all six of his digits wiggling in preparation like a maestro readying himself to direct an orchestra.

There's practically an audible record screech as he freezes abruptly, midway of grasping the flight yoke.

"-Sorry, what now?"