Disclaimer: I don't own the ninja turtles in any way or form. I'm just playing with them a little bit.
A/N: After catching an old 'Darkwing Duck' episode, this little piece of comedy came to mind. I probably shouldn't start anything new when I've got so much fan fiction lying around that I ought to be working on, but - weak as I am - I simply couldn't resist. This is just the prologue. I hope you like. Please review and tell me what you thought?
CO-AUTHORED
by
Mickis
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Fiction Rated: T
Summary: Mikey finds a self-based novel on Don's computer and decides to complete it himself. Unfortunately, so does everyone else in the household when they get their busy hands on the unsupervised Word document.
Prologue
With a plate of drowning cocoa puffs in his right hand, Michelangelo left the kitchen sub car and happily strolled across the main platform that was their living room.
He had a date, one he had a very good feeling about. Because, in all honesty, how could he and tonight's 'Family Guy' marathon not hit it off? It was practically written in the stars!
Setting down the overfilled plate on the messy coffee table, he walked up to the television set and pushed in the on button. Quite miraculously, the old piece of junk flickered to life, although the image appeared a few extra seconds behind the sound. Grabbing the remote control off the coffee table, Mike contentedly fell back onto the couch, melting perfectly into the Michelangelo-shaped hole in the worn cushions. But when raising the remote to switch on the right channel, nothing happened. Frowning in annoyance, Mike pushed the same button a second time.
No luck.
His third attempt carried a lot more force behind the action, until he finally settled for repeatedly banging the time-forgotten device against the coffee table.
"Work, Frankie. Work!"
Yes, he'd actually named the remote Frank. He figured that since they spent so much time together, they might as well be on a first name basis. Unfortunately, Frankie's loyal years of friendship and service seemed to have ran out, and Mike violently tore off the little plastic cover on the back of his friend. Gently caressing the two batteries with his fingers, he reattached the tiny hatch and gave it another try.
"Nooooo!"
Tossing the remote aside, he threw his head back and yelled at the top his nearly hyperventilating lungs, "DONNIE!"
Taking a brief moment of silence to be able to hear his brother's would-be reply, Mike then called out a second time, "DON?"
Nothing.
Knowing the situation required a little more than a simple shouting across the lair, Mikey brought out the heavy artillery and skillfully took a long, deep breath to be able to execute his emergency plan to perfection.
"DONNIEDONNIEDONINEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDONNIEDON--"
"What!" Donatello finally replied when pulling open his sub car doors enough to stick his irritated head out of his room.
"Frankie's on the fritz," Mike casually informed him. "I thought you said you'd fixed him?"
"I haven't had the time," Don explained, fully opening his doors to be able to exit his room.
"What?" Mikey shrieked in unfeigned panic. "You promised you'd fix him today!"
Wincing at his little brother's high-pitched voice, Donatello answered, "I said I'd take a look at him-- it, when I had the time." He silently scolded himself for referring to the remote as a person. Sure, it might have been Mike's best friend, pathetically enough, though it certainly didn't have a name and/or gender.
"Well, it seems the time is now, my dear Mr. Fix It," Mike said, reaching for the remote he'd angrily thrown into the armrest just a moment ago. "'Family Guy' is coming on any minute."
"So do what they did back in the old days, " Donnie shrugged, only to be met by a complete intelligent-free look from his brother, as if the concept was alien to him. "Just click on the TV set," he tiredly explained.
"What? No!" Mike outburst. "What if I wanna watch something else in the commercials?"
"Then you'll just have to get off your lazy butt and flick the switch on the TV," Don finished.
"No way!" Mike's features twisted at the thought. "You said you'd fix Frankie, now you fix him!" he ordered, holding out the busted remote control for his brother to take.
Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Donatello sighed deeply and tiredly walked up to take "Frankie" from his brother. "Fine," he said, turning on his heel to go back inside his room for the tools he would need.
Happy his braniac brother had finally succumbed to his job as the resident technology slave, Mike jumped off the couch and followed him into the always-restricted disaster area that was his brother's room. Luckily, it seemed Don was too tired to argue today, for Mike could casually enter the room without any form of restrictions being delivered by his purple-masked sibling.
"Cool!" was Mike's first reaction when spotting a put apart computer monitor standing in the corner of the room. "So that's what those things look like without their make-up on!" he joked, rushing up the violated piece of computer equipment to have a closer and, quite possibly, electrical shocking look at the device.
Donatello half-heartedly rummaged around in his toolbox for the particular screwdriver he needed in order for good old Frank to open up to him properly. Although it seemed he must've left it somewhere in the kitchen when he'd been working on the toaster earlier this week, because he certainly couldn't find it in the toolbox.
"I'll go and check the kitchen for the screwdriver," he said, turning around to find Mike's arm practically buried in the computer monitor's electrically charged innards. "Don't touch that!"
Michelangelo flinched in fright and turned to meet his brother's gaze. "Why not?" he childishly wondered.
"You might get a shock," Don explained the obvious.
"But..." Mike said, glancing at the monitor next to him, "it's not even plugged in."
"Better to be safe than sorry," Donnie simply said before leaving. Sure, Mikey did have a point about the device not being plugged in, but if it was one thing he'd come to learn when growing up with Michelangelo, it was that the youngest turtle could hurt himself on anything – in any way.
With the pesky guard of the room out of the way, Mikey instantly got up from the floor to have a seat at the computer. He was rarely allowed access to it, and never when Don was still logged on to his own profile. Carelessly clicking down whatever boring window his brother had up, Mike's eyes hungrily traveled across all the names and folders that were lying around on the desktop.
Most of them were too boring to even click on, he could easily tell by their a little too math-looking names, but there was one folder that did catch his attention.
Top Secret.
Who would name a folder on their desktop 'Top Secret'? It just screamed 'click on me!' After a moment of brief thinking, Mike came down to two conclusions. Either A: Donnie'd foreseen this moment when he would finally get access to his profile and had therefore named the folder 'Top Secret', just so he would click on it. Which meant it probably contained a bunch of boring computer-geeky stuff he'd quickly get tired of and would eventually just leave the computer.
Or B: Even in his wildest fears, Don had never ever even considered the risk of Mike being able to take advantage of a rare opportunity like this one, which meant that the stuff he'd decided to store in this folder really were top secret.
Though, Mike's deeply suppressed shoulder angel unexpectedly whispered into his right ear, if that truly is the case, you should probably settle for being the bigger man here and simply respect your brother's wishes to leave his stuff alone.
Probably, Michelangelo thought to himself in agreement and clicked open the folder.