Donatello felt awkward as Irma felt around to determine his identity. He was all too happy to hand over her glasses so she could actually see her surroundings. Not that clear vision made a difference about whether or not she was a klutz.

She began to describe her symptoms, so he drew a small spiral notepad and pencil from his belt and started jotting it down. "Feeling hot... possibly feverish... It doesn't feel hot down here at the moment, Irma. If it feels hotter than outside to you, then the ray may have had more side effects than we thought."

He blinked, realizing he'd just said something that could possibly make her upset. And only a few hours ago, at her giant size, she had been crying to such an extent that her tears had rained on the pavement. "I mean ... there's no need to be alarmed just yet... I mean, it's probably perfectly normal that you're..."

His gaze kept getting drawn to her body, clad in an ill-fitting t-shirt soaked with her sweat. He could see the outline of her nipples through the shirt. "...hot and sweaty."