A Donny oriented Epic. I've noticed that in Don's stories he just ends up in love with one of his brothers or else killing himself, so I thought I'd let him be funny and cool. I'm going to try it in 3rd person this time. Beware.
Chapter 1 – Swamp Man Hits It Big
Donatello stared at the computer screen with the expression of a boxer who's been punched so many times in the face that they think they're happy. He looked at the little dots and lines that represented money and quickly calculated. $30,000. He'd just made $30,000 in the stock market. And the money was all his. He wouldn't share. Who cared if Mikey needed extensive dental work due to all the marshmallows he ate raw. He could live with the toothache. If he got an abscess and died; it was his problem.
Okay, so maybe lifesaving dental work was on the list. He experienced a split second of panic as he tried to figure out how he would drill into his brother's jaw. He'd always done all the family's medical work, at least since he was capable, and now dental work was on the horizon. So much could go wrong.
What the hell. He could buy a dentist and pay him to live in the lab, he thought.
Donny heard Leo's katanas rattling past behind his back and he assumed that Leo was attached to them and headed in the same direction.
"What's up?" Donny asked, prepared not to care.
"April just called. There's some trouble out by her place. Some ninjas of unknown origin. I'm going to check it out. I'll call if there's a problem."
"Whatever. Bye." Sounded like Leo's idea of a good Saturday night, Don laughed to himself. Then he realized that his idea of a good Saturday night was to sit in the lab pulling the wings off of flies.
Raph and Mikey. Where were they? He looked back at his stock quotes and suddenly didn't care. How would he explain this to Splinter? And Leo? He shuddered at the idea. He didn't think he could tell them that he had hacked his way into the NASDAC and illegally fixed his quotes. It was true, but he couldn't tell anyone. How would he be able to explain the extra income?
Raph always had mysterious income and nobody ever questioned him. But everybody was afraid of Raph. Nobody was afraid of him. Maybe he could tell Raph and then he could pretend to have won it in a horse race.
His attention was diverted from the computer screen to the nearby television screen. At first all he could see were the empty beer cans balanced in a tower on top and scowled. Then he realized that the image on the screen was eerily familiar. It was amateur footage, most likely shot on a camera phone, of a muddy footprint.
The news anchor said, "This mysterious footprint has been found in the mud near the intersection of Bradley and Shaw. It is said to belong to the creature dubbed the Swamp Man, rumored to live in the sewers of New York City. The footprint apparently has two toes and may have been made by a creature that stands approximately five feet tall and walks bipedally, according to a local anthropologist. The NYPD has dubbed the Swamp Man footprint a hoax and has taken a cast of the footprint for the investigation."
Donatello fell off his chair and onto the ground. Quickly leaping to his feet, he pulled out his cell phone. His first reaction was, "Call Leo. Ask for instructions." But then he caught himself. Why call Leo? Why did he need further instructions? He was smart enough to figure this out on his own. And anyway, wasn't Leo busy fighting the average Saturday night mysterious ninjas bent on vengeance against the Hamato clan?
He stared at the television screen again, but it was now showing a television ad for an adult diaper. What should he do? The police had the footprint. It was considered evidence. Chain of evidence. Evidence locker. Go to the police station and break into the evidence locker. He took a glance back at his stock quotes before leaving the lair. $30,000. Hopefully, he could have the cast of the footprint and be back by the time Leo was done. Wouldn't it shock them to see him sitting in his lab with a nice plaster of Paris cast of one of their feet to mount on the wall and $30,000 to buy a state of the art telescope and new refrigerator?
Wait a minute. What precinct? Bradley and Shaw. 75th precinct. That was quite a hike. How did they end up with footprints all the way up there? Why would any of his brothers be there anyway? That wasn't important. How to break in?
Nothing came to him. He would figure that out when he got there. At least do some recon and figure out the security levels. He packed a small backpack and shoved wire cutters and his general break-in kit into the bag.
He took a glance back at his ever rising stock quotes and his two-toed footsteps had a slight bounce to their gate that the Swamp Man footprints lacked.