A/N: Okay it took me a while to think of something for this one. Whoops. Well I finally did think of something. (glares at bunny) You are not doing your job! (bunny twitches nose and looks adorable). Yeah, sure, act innocent. I know better.

Donatello was in his lab working on a way to block the Gay Reaper's fairy wand thingymabob when suddenly the tell tale dust began floating down around him. Sure enough his lab disappeared and was replaced with the infamous office and it's two trouble making tyrants.

Donnie gave a mental sigh. Why did all the evil ladies have to be so dang hot? It just wasn't fair.

Dr. Diddly-Doo smiled pleasantly at him and held out… something towards him. "Schnitzel?" She asked. The purple masked turtle instantly felt his stomach lurch at the sigh then start churning when the smell reached his nose. He gulped, "Ehh, no thanks."

"There," she said. "Now you see that's your problem Donatello. You're not willing to try new things."

"I know what's in those things." Said Donnie in disgust.

Dr. Diddly-Doo sniffed and put her purt little nose in the air. "There is such a thing as knowing too much. It's called Knowledilite Syndrome."

Don stared at her for a few seconds. "You made that word up."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." She gave a smug smile. "See you don't know everything."

"I know that's not a word."

"But do you know that for an absolute, undeniable fact?"

"I-" Donnie began a bit desperately but was cut off.

"Can you say with absolute certainty that 'knowledilite' is not in a dictionary?" She pressed. "Have you memorized every single word in every single dictionary?"

"I… well I…" Don tripped over his half formed sentences. "Is that a word?"

Dr. Diddly-Doo leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "What is a word? Sounds. Sounds that have a meaning, a meaning that someone gave them. New words are created, others are forgotten."

Donnie blinked at her. "Huh? Did you say you made that word up just now?"

"I did not!" Exclaimed the doctor, offended.

The Reaper gave a big smile. "I did. Well, actually I made it up last month when Albert Einstein had an appointment. He thought he knew everything."

Choosing to ignore the comment about Einstein, Donnie smirked and said, "So it's not a real word."

"Yes it is." Dr. Diddly-Doo insisted.

"He just admitted he made it up!" Exclaimed the turtle.

"But it has a meaning and that is what makes a word a word." The doctor said superiorly.

"A word he made up." Don ground out through his clenched teeth.

The doctor sniffed. "New words are made up all the time. A spelling, pronunciation, and meaning are all that is required to make a word."

"It's not in a dictionary!" Donnie cried in exasperation.

Dr. Diddly-Doo grabbed a Webster's Dictionary off the shelf behind her. Taking her pen she quickly wrote in 'knowledilite'. "There," She declared smugly. "Now it's in a dictionary."

"That doesn't count!" Screamed the turtle.

"What more do you want?" Diddly-Doo snapped. "It's in the dictionary. Apparently you also suffer from Technicalisticatitis."

"You made that one up too!"

By the end of the session the doctor had diagnosed Donatello with Knowledilite Syndrome, Technicalisticatitis, Finickism, Know-it-all-drom, and Speculatorybetterism. Donnie diagnosed himself with confusion and frustration with a high probability of primal rage followed by a killing spree.

Unfortunately, the Reaper transported him back to the lair mid-charge towards Dr. Diddly-Doo.

No worries. He missed hitting Raph by a whole two millimeters and only smashed Master Splinter's precious china.

No biggie.

Hehe… he was so dead.

Well that's that. I SO wanted to say that Donnie went Postal but I wasn't sure if that was an American thing or not so I left it out. Darn it. Yeah, so the next one will either be up in a few days or after Sunday. Depends on if I can write it before I head off to SONSHINE!! One of the world's (or at least America's) best music festivals. WHOOHOO!!!

Oh, and please review? (looks towards adorable black lab) For him?