Disclaimer: Don't own it.

For Acting Foolish

"Again," Splinter ordered as his sons finished their assigned exercise. "And this time, be sure to fully extend your arms as you finish the movement."

The ninja master twitched his whiskers as he watched his pupils perform the movements as they obviously strained from exhaustion. He nodded solemnly as they completed it once more. Not perfect, but close enough for today.

"Very well, my sons. We will continue this later on. You are dismissed until evening practice," Splinter calmly stated, watching his sons with amusement as they collapsed onto the floor.

Perhaps he had worked them too hard this morning? Nah. They're young — they'll get over it.

As tired as they had been, the teenagers still managed to push themselves up off the floor and scatter across the lair to fulfill whatever activities they had in mind. Splinter headed to his room to retrieve his mug that he had left in there from the previous evening. He had forgotten to return it to the kitchen to wash out. Upon entering the kitchen to secure some breakfast and brew a fresh cup of tea, his only company was his purple clad son.

Donatello moved silently about the kitchen, pouring himself another cup of coffee. Despite the one he had before their early practice, he needed an extra caffeine boost to help him stay focused. Noticing his master's presence, he gave him a smile and quick nod in greeting.

Splinter wordlessly returned the greeting with a soft nod of his own and also moved quietly around the kitchen. He fetched the kettle and filled it with water, placing it upon the stove. Once he had the burner going, he settled himself in a chair at the table to wait for the water to boil. The aging rat glanced at his son as he, too, sat at the table, gently sipping at his coffee with the newspaper in hand.

Donatello had a thoughtful look on his face, as he was following the presidential primaries. The tech turtle just couldn't figure out why the country based its party selections on these primary elections. Surely money used for such flamboyant campaigning could be put to better use elsewhere?

As Donnie skimmed another article, he briefly saw his master smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. Intrigued, he lowered the paper and returned the smile. "Anything I can get for you, Master Splinter?"

Shaking his head, Splinter replied, "No, but thank you, my son. I was merely enjoying the quiet and the company."

His expression changing, Don tilted his head, folding the paper and putting it down on the table. "Enjoying the quiet? Isn't it normally quiet enough for you in your room when you meditate and such?"

"You would think so, my son," Splinter chuckled. "But you and your brothers…how can I put this? You four do not always practice the way of silence and invisibility."

"Come again, sensei?" Donnie asked, slightly confused.

"You four are teenagers. Most of the time, things can get quite loud around the lair — especially when you all argue over control of the remote."

Lightly blushing, Donatello rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess we do get out of hand sometimes. But you can hear us from your room?"

Nodding, Splinter said, "Very much so. Why just yesterday, I do believe Raphael called Michelangelo a 'nosy, annoying bonehead,' to which he responded to calling Raphael a 'bumbling, sloth-like booger.'"

Donatello's eyes widened and placed a hand to his forehead. "Yeah, that was a bad scuffle. Didn't end well."

"How's that, my son?"

"We were all fighting for so long, an entire half-hour had passed by. We all missed whatever it was we wanted to watch."

"I see."

Taking another sip of his coffee, another thoughtful expression crossed Don's face. "Why didn't you tell me you could hear us from your room, sensei? I can soundproof it for you, if you like."

"That would be most kind, Donatello. However, I do not wish to be a bother."

The kettle began to whistle, alerting them to its boiling status. Splinter began preparing his cup of tea.

"You're not a bother, sensei," Donnie affectionately scolded his father.

As he stirred his tea, Splinter nodded his head. "Thank you, my son. And thank you again for the offer, but I believe I must refuse. There may be an instance where I need to hear what's going on, if there should be danger in our home."

Nodding in understanding, Don raised his paper once more to read. Splinter re-seated himself, and they sat in a comfortable silence...

Until angry voices erupted across the lair.

"You've been watchin' cartoons since practice ended, Mikey! I wanna watch TV, too, ya know!" Raph yelled.

"Dude, I've only been watching for like twenty minutes! This show isn't even over! You can watch later. Go brood or something!" Mike answered, pulling on the remote as Raphael tried to tug it away.

Sitting in the armchair with a book, Leonardo rolled his eyes and stood to pull his little brothers apart. "Raph, let him finish watching this show, and then you can watch."

"No way, Leo! You can't give him remote privileges just like that! I was here first," Michelangelo said with a pout.

"Psh, Leo, he always has the remote! Can't a turtle watch somethin' else besides cartoons around here?" Raphael seethed.

The bickering continued as Donatello and Master Splinter looked on with distaste.

"So much for a quiet morning," muttered Don, readjusting the newspaper in his grasp.

Sighing heavily as he stared into his cup, Splinter murmured his agreement. "This is why I spend a great deal of time in my room. While I can still hear your arguments, at least it is muffled."

Donatello snorted in amusement at his master's comment. "Makes sense. That's why I'm in my lab a lot. It's far away enough from everyone else I don't have to hear every word shouted."

Carefully placing down his mug, Splinter tapped his claws on the table for a moment, finding himself deep in thought. Looking up at his son, he stood, grabbing his walking stick. "Donatello, are you busy at the moment?"

Puzzled, Donnie said, "No, not really, sensei."

"Good. Follow me back to the dojo, please. It's time I taught you something." And with that, Splinter exited the kitchen.

Now extremely curious, Donatello stood from his chair and dutifully followed his master.

Once in the dojo, Don kneeled before his master and waited for him to speak.

Splinter paced back and forth. "What I am about to teach you, my son, is an ancient craft that needs to be carefully executed. There is a precise moment and time to use this move. Done ineffectively, it will not deter your opponent."

"What move is that, Master Splinter?"

Raising his walking stick, Splinter performed the move quickly and gracefully. Astounded, Donatello's eyes widened. "Are you sure I'm ready for this, Master Splinter?"

"Of course, my son. Otherwise, I would not be showing it to you. Now then, stand and let's try it. Ready your bo staff."

Splinter's careful, detailed instruction continued for close to an hour with his purple clad son. He adjusted Donatello's force applied to the strike, and he also corrected the placement of his son's grip. Eventually, he deemed his son ready at the end of the session.

"You have done well, my son. It is now time to put this difficult move into practice. We will execute it together. Understood?"

"Yes, sensei," Donatello said with confidence and a smirk, bowing to his master.

They re-entered the lair, where the television argument had escalated to rough-housing in front of the couches. In vain, Leonardo attempted to pry Raphael away from Michelangelo. His efforts resulted in absolutely no success.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Stop it, Raph!" Mikey pleaded, squirming to get away.

Cackling evilly, his red clad brother continued his noogie assault on his irritating little brother. "Never! Not until you give me the remote!"

The aforementioned remote was gripped tightly to Michelangelo's chest in a desperate act to keep it from Raphael, even though Raph had managed to get one hand on it. They continued to tug it back and forth.

Groaning, Leo yelled, "Cut it out! You guys are being stupid. Again!"

Leonardo saw Master Splinter and Donatello approaching and backed away from the entangled pair. "Master Splinter, I can't get them to stop."

Raising a paw, Splinter said, "Do not worry, my son. Your brother and I will take care of this…situation."

Raising an eye ridge in question, Leo stepped further away, observing the scene. Splinter raised his walking staff calmly, as did Don with his bo staff.

And they struck!

"OW!"

"OW!"

The two cries erupted from Raphael and Michelangelo, and they immediately rubbed their throbbing heads, releasing the remote.

Raph winced and looked at his father and brother, utterly confused. "What the shell was that for?"

"Dude…that hurt!" Mikey proclaimed sitting on the floor.

"It was for acting foolish." Smiling, Splinter picked up the discarded remote and turned to his other son. "And that, Donatello, is how you subdue your brothers with a simple, well-placed strike to the head in moments of misbehavior."

Mikey and Raph's mouths dropped open in surprise; Leo doubled over with laughter. Splinter sat on the couch and flicked on a soap to watch. Donatello smiled widely and bowed to his master.

"Thanks for teaching it to me, sensei. I'll be sure to put it to good use in the future."

A/N: Hahahahahahahaha. I had fun with that one. I just thought it would be funny if Splinter taught Donnie the proper way to hit his brothers on the head like he does. Teehee.