I've written a lot about Don recently. It's strange because he isn't my favourite turtle. I've been neglecting him; I think I've subconsciously been trying to make up for it recently.

"I don't believe it."

Little Leonardo raised an eye ridge, the palms of his hands pressing into his sides. However, he was nowhere near as sceptical as his rather temperamental brother, Raphael, who was staring at Donatello with such a look of disbelief that one could only assume a ridiculous statement had come out of the genius brother's mouth. Raphael's own mouth was agape, though he closed it when he successfully guessed how silly he looked.

Donatello shook his head, a brilliant smile on his face. His face was flushed, like he had just run a marathon... minus the sweat and heavy panting. His head was tilted forward a bit and his triumphant gaze flickered between his two brothers. It was a struggle keeping in all of his excitement.

"It's true," Donatello said, his voice sweet enough to dissolve in water. "I really truly made Mikey stop talking. I told you my new inven-she-on was a great idea."

"Mikey can't stop talking!" burst out Raphael, throwing up his arms. There was a hint of hysteria in his tone, which caused Leonardo to take his doubtful gaze off Donatello and transfer it to him. "If he did then his head would pop off! That's what you said! All the voices in his head would build up and his brain would ov-ah-load and he'd die and there would be guts everywhere and Splinter would feed it to us if we were bad!"

Leonardo glared at Donatello.

The purple masked turtle jumped, grinning for all he was worth. A nervous laugh escaped his mouth. "I... I don't remember saying that. But it's true! Mikey's sitting in the kit-shen and he ain't making noise. If you need evid-ince, then look for yourself!"

Raphael was gone in the blink of an eye. He had taken the lead, zipping across the room before Leonardo had even started to process what his brother had just said. The blue and purple masked turtles exchanged smirks, following Raphael into the kitchen.

"NO!"

Leonardo and Donatello, who had been in front of the kitchen door (it had slammed shut after Raphael opened it with quite a bit of force), were torn between curiosity to see what was transpiring behind the door and the childish instinct to run for their lives so they could claim they had had no part in Raphael's distressed yell. However, Leonardo considered himself the biggest and oldest turtle whose duty it was to look after his siblings. Therefore, his hesitation was short-lived and he pushed the wooden door open.

Raphael was kneeling on the kitchen floor, a pink and green mess in his trembling arms. Tears stained his dark cheeks as he sobbed, clutching the thing to his chest. Leonardo and Donatello remained frozen.

"Oh, Mikey!" whined Raphael. "I didn't mean you to die. I know I say I want you to lots but it's only a joke. You liked jokes before your brain... es-ploded! I'm gonna kill Donnie for what he did to you, okay? Your death won't be for nothing."

"Raphie..." said Donatello, alarmed.

"I never said this but that time when you trained them fleas 'cause you wanted to start a circ-us and they escaped and Splinter had to have stinky stuff all over him... that was kinda funny. And there was that time when you replaced the mouthwash with sewer water and no one noticed for... what's the date?"

"The nineteenth of March," answered Leonardo.

"For two weeks!" finished Raphael, oblivious to the expressions of horror on his brothers' faces. "And I'll never get to tell you because you're just a... a..."

"Watermelon."

Raphael's head whipped around and he glowered at the supposed cheek of Leonardo. Donatello continued wiping his tongue with his hands, his eyes watering.

"Our brother..." started Raphael, his voice cracking.

"Is over there," finished Donatello thickly, allowing one hand to point at the area behind the kitchen table. The small form of Michelangelo was obscured behind it, his back towards them.

Raphael slowing lowered his eyes.

He was holding a mushy watermelon.

"Erk." Raphael winced, sticking his tongue out and letting go of the object abruptly. He pushed his hands across his now sticky plastron. Then he remembered to be angry. "Why didn't you tell me I was holding a what-ah-melon?"

"I dunno," replied Donatello. "It was kinda funny."

Raphael would have punched him in the face at any other time. Fortunately for the purple masked turtle, Raphael had lost interest in him and had scampered to the table, positioning himself face down on its top so he could peer down at his not dead not watermelon brother.

Michelangelo was holding a small orange rectangle in his hands. There were four blue wires attached to it: two were also connected to a battery and the other two, which were on the same side of the rectangle but opposite the former two wires, were connected to a grey box that had an analogue screen on it.

Michelangelo put his finger over a small circle on the dull side of the rectangle (the other being fairly shiny). The hand on the box's screen went to the right. Michelangelo removed his hand and the red line on the screen swung to the left. He narrowed his eyes and repeated the action once more, a lot slower this time. It only made the hand on the screen move less quickly than before.

Raphael raised his head and turned to Donatello, his mouth ajar and brow raised. He jerked his finger towards Michelangelo and said, "What's his problem?"

"I made a potential divider," announced Donatello, rather proud of himself. "It has an LDR on it and the voltage varies depending on the intensity of light on it. The resistance increases when there is less light on the LDR, which changes the voltage across the fixed resistor and that makes the reading change."

Raphael sat up properly and landed next to Michelangelo, crouching as he did so. Michelangelo was gazing at the potential divider, his forehead crinkled. He hadn't noticed Raphael's arrival.

"Whoa..." said Michelangelo, watching the hand on the analogue screen twitch. "Back and forth... back and forth..."

"Hey, that's a pretty neat toy," commented Raphael. He glared at Donatello and added darkly, "I want one."

"It is NOT a toy," Donatello replied rather indignantly. "It's a potential divider."

Raphael stood up, his fists clenched. He hissed, "I don't care if it's a toy or a bodenteal divider. I want one."

Donatello knew better than to argue with Raphael when he was mad. It often resulted in a punch to the face. In any case, it wasn't like they took a particularly long time to make. He just had to get out his soldering iron, let it warm up, and solder all the necessary components onto the shiny copper side.

TMNTNMT

"There," said Donatello emotionlessly, holding out an identical version of the device Michelangelo had in his possession. "Here's your potential divider."

Raphael snatched it out of his hands and plonked himself back next to Michelangelo, who he had been watching ever since Donatello left the room. He put his hand in front of the light dependent resistor, watching the red line on the screen jerk sideways. He removed his green hand. It moved back to its original position.

Michelangelo's hand inched towards the sensor.

"What the shell you doing?" asked Raphael. Michelangelo twitched, pulling a face.

"Geez, thanks a lot!" he said, irritated. "I nearly had it."

"Had what?"

"I'm trying to put my hand on it without it knowing," Michelangelo explained, his hand creeping towards the sensor. He sighed, watching the red hand shift horizontally. "Only it keeps moving no matter how slow I go."

"That's because it changes due to the intensity of light on the LDR, not due to movement," piped up Donatello. He was ignored.

"You have to do it fast," Raphael told Michelangelo. "So fast that it don't know what happened."

"The reaction time of the voltmeter is very fast," Donatello remarked thoughtfully. "You'd have to be very swift in order to put your finger over it before the reading changes."

"See, you have to be swift!" Raphael jeered. "I said that."

Michelangelo took no heed of his brother's tone and began swinging his arm very quickly back and forth, Raphael doing the same.

Leonardo appeared behind Raphael and said, "You're too slow."

"Shut up."

"I could do it faster."

"Shut up."

Leonardo frowned. "Master Splinter says we aren't to say shut up. You just don't want me to show you up."

"Get your own."

Leonardo turned to Donatello.

Donatello sighed and went into his lab.

TMNTNMT

"I think," said Raphael after a while, "we should have a contest."

Leonardo and Michelangelo stopped, attention grabbed. Contest. They liked the sound of a contest. A lot.

"We should see who is the fastest arm moverer," Raphael carried on, sweeping his hand across the LDR.

"Yes," agreed Leonardo, putting a hand under his chin in what he thought was a sophisticated and grown up manner. "I compleckly agree. But how are we going to see who is the fastest?"

"We could count," suggested Michelangelo. "Like we could see how many sessions the hand is not in that spot no more for."

"I'll go first," announced Leonardo. "I am the oldest."

Raphael and Michelangelo rolled their eyes.

As Leonardo's hand twitched over the LDR, he said, "One. Okay, Raphie, you go next."

Raphael did so. "I took zero seconds. Beat that."

Leonardo narrowed his eyes. "That was way more than one second. You didn't count."

"I did! I just never reached one."

"Cheater!"

"Loser!"

"My sons."

Master Splinter walked into the room slowly, his tail gently swaying with each step. The four turtles gulped. They must have woken up Master Splinter during his nap. Well, it was actually meditation but they thought it looked like he was sleeping sitting up so it was basically the same thing to them. Sleeping or meditating, they knew they were supposed to be quiet and to not disturb him. It was the rules.

"What are you arguing about?" their master asked, focusing on each turtle in turn. He finally settled on Leonardo when they all showed a reluctance to reply. The other three brothers mimicked the rat, watching the blue masked turtle.

"We're seeing who has the fastest moving arm," explained Leonardo, holding up his potential divider. Master Splinter regarded it warily. "Donnie made us a toy that makes this ticker move when you put your hand nearer the circle thing. We're trying to see who's the fastest by seeing how long it isn't in its orickial poziton when we put our hand over it then move it back."

He gave his potential divider to Master Splinter. The elderly rat brushed his hand over the LDR, gaze remaining on the voltmeter. He did it again. "How interesting..."

TMNTNMT

"No, Sensei, it has to be fastly. Donnie said."

"I see... We must catch it off guard. We must not allow it any time to react to our movement."

"When I did it, it only moved a weeny bit."

"So what? I did it so fast it only moved for a billionth of a second."

"Nuh uh."

"Yuh uh."

"This will be a valuable tool for your training, my sons. Donatello, how many of these is it possible for you to make?"

"I want one for everyday of the year!"

Donatello placed his hands onto his cheeks and asked, "What have I done?"