"Donnie? I think it's time." Michelangelo informed his brother with a discreet nod towards a decrepit microwave. Don's head perked up like a tom cat in a canary shop at Mike's revolutionary statement. He turned his gaze slowly towards the microwave, then to his older brother standing aloof. Leonardo, dragged out of the dojo for the first time--in seriously dudes!--weeks was apparently not enjoying fraternal junkyard bonding as much as his younger counterparts.
"I don't know if he's ready..." Don replied slowly, letting out a long breath and glancing star-wards. He would try anything to distract his brother from...recent events...but, this seemed like more of a last resort thing. "Besides, I don't know how into it Leo'd be."
"Donatello. Nobody is not into it." Mike deadpanned back.
"What are you two talking about?" Leo called suspiciously. A quick exchange of looks occurred, and Mike solemnly went to retrieve the microwave. Don received the worse-for-wear device and began a'Tinkering. Meanwhile, Mike disappeared into piles of junk and Leonardo became increasingly disturbed.
5 minutes later.
"Are you guys going to tell me why you're putting a 64 box of crayola crayons, a glass bottle of orange soda, a lava lamp, a rooster shaped lamp, a smaller microwave, scented lotion, and a...raccoon skin hat into that microwave?" Leonardo asked, typically.
Slinging an arm over his bro's shoulder, Mike led Leo to a safe distance and explained, "Science meets creativity. Think, Bill Nye meets a pair of eight year old rednecks fresh out of Ritalin."
Don hit the Start button and darted beyond the safety line just in time to see the first of the fireworks. "So...you guys do this often, huh?" Leo asked in awe as something orange and globular shot into the sky and caught on fire. Green fire. His brother nodded. "Who else knows about your...er, activity?"
"Just us three now," Don replied.
"...I want in."