"So, you find the problem with that clutch?" Donatello asks as he enters the barn.
Casey lays on a dolly underneath his car. He huffs, the faint ringing of metal being struck as the dolly wobbles on its wheels. "I found part of the problem," he answers.
He rolls out from underneath the car, holding a squirming, white-feathered chicken. She clucks and struggles against the boy's grip, flapping her wings and beating against Casey's face, forcing him to release her. The chicken hops onto his knee, perches for a moment, then scrambles away.
"Hey, Mikey! Keep your chickens outta the barn, man!" Casey calls, shaking his fist at the retreating bird.
Donatello settles down at his lab table, his eyes downcast as he works on little, meaningless projects. Casey stands up and wanders up to the intelligent terrapin. His eyes soften with guilt and he rubs the back of his neck.
"Listen, Donnie. I'm sorry I went after Speed Demon without you," he apologizes.
"It's fine," Donatello brushes him off. "Me and the guys have been making our own plan to bring that freak down." He adjusts a few bottles on the table, including a small jar of mutagenic gasoline that he had collected after their latest encounter with Speed Demon.
"Donnie, you and I know the hot rod is the best chance we got," Casey insists, getting closer to his frenemy. Donatello swivels in his chair and rests his elbow against the chair back. "We need to team up on this."
The turtle sighs and looks away as he taps his fingers against the wooden tabletop. "I don't know."
"I need your sweet scientific genius, Don," Casey says. He clasps his hands together and flashes a puppy-eyed grin. "Please?"
The purple-masked turtle looks to the teen, pursing his lips. Casey tries to make his eyes even more dewy. The turtle exhales heavily, defeated. "Alright, I have an idea," he says, standing up. "A crazy, awesome idea!" They both look at the car, then at each other. Donatello grins wickedly. "Casey, we're taking a trip down to the basement."
----------
It takes hours and lots of hard work. Casey and Donatello bring in everything they can from the abandoned Kraang scout ship to the barn. They draw up plans. They guzzle energy drinks. They use hammers and blowtorches and every other tool that they possibly can as they work, hardly stopping for breaks.
Eventually, it's completed. Casey and Donatello look at their newly reconstructed hot rod, fit with all kinds of Kraang tech and power ups. What used to be a rusted, red pickup truck is now a black pickup truck with missiles and Kraang-tech tinkered on it.
"This. Is. Amazing!" Casey exclaims, pumping his fists as a childlike glee saturates his gaze.
"Yeah, I know," Donatello says with a nonchalant shrug, "and it's almost ready. I just have to figure out the problem with the artificial intelligence for the onboard computer system."
He sits down in the driver's seat, placing his computer on his lap as he starts tapping out complex codes, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
Unbeknownst to the two boys, a white chicken waddles into the barn, clucking softly. She struts across the floor, hopping onto Donatello's swivel-chair before flapping her tiny wings and reaching the tabletop. She wanders around the new space, knocking over the salvaged bottle of mutagen gasoline. It falls onto its side with a soft ringing noise and the gasoline spills onto the countertop. Enraptured by the glowing substance, the chicken pecks at it, taking some into her beak little by little.
YOU ARE READING
Forest Mutation (Book Two)
Fanfiction"In Saskatchewan, when I couldn't fall asleep, I'd watch the moon and think about how across the country and over the border, you were probably out on a rooftop beneath the same moon. You were the first person I enjoyed the moon with. Every other ti...
