Some swears, mostly sfw. Deleted scene from my unpublished chapter of Pussycat, coming soon. Chapter 1 of Pussycat is posted on the main page. Thanks for reading!

K is for King of New York

...

"Hang on, Mikey."

On the rooftop of CIARON Pharmaceuticals, Donatello threw down a duffle. The police siren wailed closer, and closer. New York's finest was right below him. Donatello re-answered the phone, and said, "I scored big time, tonight."

Michelangelo, no doubt thrown off by the sirens, hesitantly asked, "Uhh, are you sure?"

Not giving one-cup about the cops, Don snorted. "They're not after me." He peered over shell, below, to spy a SMART car narrowly avoiding a stray cat on the sidewalk. He broadcasted. "Intoxicated!"

"Hey, Donnie?"

Brakes squealed before a crunching metal sound. Donnie cringed, and said, "Yeah. What's up?" He shook his head at the asshole stumbling onto the street.

"April called me."

"Okaaaay?" Oh, shit he knows.

Mikey took a deep breath and said, "She didn't sound, very stable? And, uhh, she asked me over."

"What?" Don stood bō-staff straight. He hadn't missed any calls from her. "Where are you, now?"

Mikey answered, "Outside her apartment. Where are you?"

A capillary burst.

"Ow! What the..." Donnie rubbed his eye and turned towards the Hudson, with Lady Liberty's backside blocking his view of The City, he shouted, neck corded and strained. "I'm in Hoboken!" A few pigeons took flight.

"Whoa! Donnie, language!"

"Shut up, Michelangelo. So. So, wh-what are you doing?" He sounded like an idiot.

"What the heck, you think, bro? She's sick, or something. Don't you want me to che-" Mikey had trouble breathing. "Oh, dude." His brother's sinister, growling chortle, triggered Donatello.

"What happened?" Donnie scrambled for his duffle. Holy shit! A stream of pill bottles, trial medication, rattled out. "God, damnit!"

"It's April."

He left his score from CIARON alone on the rooftop. The gravel kicked up behind Donnie's heels, and his brother continued. "She's...she's standing in front of her window with her tits pressed up against the glass. She can't see me." That was Donatello's fantasy!

RunRunRUN!

"I-I thought we had decided April was like a, like a, sister to us!" Technically, Master Splinter had decided. "And, you're freakin' sixteen! Y'aaarghhh!" He tripped, and tasted the gritty, diamond-edged blacktop.

"Donnie? Holy sh- are you okay?"

Don snatched the hazy, glowing rectangle, yelling. "Fuck!" He felt around for his glasses, and finally, his three fingers clamped around the frames.

Michelangelo's teeny, tiny voice sounded out the phone. "What happened, brah?"

"Mikey, abort!" He smooshed the spectacles and phone back on his face. "What's she doing, now?"

Michelangelo swallowed, not yelling. "Oh, my, god, she's touching herself. Jesus, dude." The tension gurgled in his voice. "She is really goin' to town."

Donatello squared his jaw, and made things clear for his baby brother, saying, "I'm gonna go to fucking town." He squinted at Lady Liberty's backside, again. "That ass is mine."