Prologue:

It was a lovely morning in St. Canard. Sun rays were lightly bathing the city in gold, and birds happily chirped out their songs in the trees. A purple alarm clock seated on the surface of a wooden bedside table rang out loudly, declaring that its owner should awake, but a feathered white hand simply slapped the alarm off. Snoring was heard from the bed beside the table as Drake Mallard enjoyed a perfectly wonderful dream.

"Yes, Morgana... Yes, yes, of course I'll marry you... ZZZZZ... What's that? Your father? Ohh... there's no trouble... Darkwing Duck... can't handle... ZZZ... Yep yep yep. ZZZZ..."

"INCOMING!"

Two bloodshot eyes flew open. "GOSALYN, NO-!"

An energetic young duckling cannonballed on top of the duck in bed. "Hiya, Dad! Wakey-wakey!"

The duck in bed, who happened to be none other than Dar- I mean, Drake Mallard, heh-heh, sighed wearily and stared in annoyance at the young female duck seated comfortably on his stomach. "Gosalyn, what have I told you about cannonballing your father when he's trying to dream about Morgana McCawber?"

"Yeah, well, Launchpad cooked breakfast, so I figgered you might wanna wake up." The duckling grinned sheepishly at her surrogate father.

Drake immediately sat up straight. Gosalyn tumbled off his stomach. "What? Launchpad cooked-"

BOOM!

"Yeah, that's what I was gonna tell ya." Gosalyn replied, stifling a snigger.

Drake narrowed his eyes and swung his legs over the bed. "Okay. Let's- get- dangerous." He marched down the stairs, Gosalyn trailing not far behind him.

In the kitchen, Drake stared in befuddlement at the tall duck standing before the stove. The duck was covered in black soot, was holding a bent spatula, and was sporting a nervous smile. Drake slapped his forehead and let his hand drag down his beak.

"Okay. What did you cook this time?" he asked, folding his arms and speaking between gritted teeth, trying not to get angry.

"Gee, I-I-I'm awful sorry, D.W.," Launchpad stammered, trying to grin. "But I couldn't figure out how to get the toast in there, so I, um... had to put it in the oven."

Drake bit his lip, holding back a frustrated scream, and observed the six blackened toast pieces askew on the kitchen floor. "Launchpad?"

"Yeah, D.W.?"

"There's a reason why they call THAT thing-" Drake pointed at the toaster sitting on the kitchen counter. "-A toaster."

Drake could hear Gosalyn biting back a laughter of hilarity behind him. Drake inhaled deeply and looked way up the ceiling. Launchpad looked up there as well, wondering what on earth Drake could possibly be looking at.

One, two, three... Drake counted until his temper cooled. When he was through, he exhaled and looked back at Launchpad. The tall duck was staring at Drake expectantly, worried of what Drake might say.

"All right. Good try, pal," Drake said, as calmly as possible, and went over to pat his tall sidekick's back. "But next time you wanna cook breakfast- DON'T."

"Okay, D.W.," responded Launchpad, smiling in embarrassment.

Drake shook his head and clambered exhaustedly into a seat at the table, at which Gosalyn was already seated. The young duck had been smart enough to get a bowl of cereal this morning. Launchpad meant well, but he was known for being incredibly dim-witted. Meaning half the time he had no clue of what was going on around him, much less being able to know how to cook properly. Drake shook his head again slightly, trying to rid himself of the annoying thoughts, and reached across the table to take a bagel from the bread bag. And just when I was having such a nice dream about me and Morgana.

"So, did ya sleep well, D.W.?" Launchpad seated himself at the table, unsure of what else to occupy himself with.

"Just fine, Launchpad," Drake answered, willing his temper to cool before it flamed up once more. He noticed Gosalyn slurping down the bowl of cereal quite rapidly. "Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed to his daughter. "What's your hurry? Do you want to choke on cereal?"

"Sorry, Dad, but I promised Honker I'd help him finish our science project this morning before we went to school," Gosalyn said, slamming the bowl down on the table, making Launchpad jump. "Sorry to eat and run, but... SEE YA!"

"Now, wait just a minute, young lady-" Drake tried to call, but Gosalyn had already opened the door. His eyes widened when he saw there were already four guests waiting at the door when Gosalyn opened it. And wasn't just the fact that the guests were there- it was WHO the guests WERE. Shivers started running down his spine.

"Oh, hi, Honker," Gosalyn replied cheerfully. The young chicken at the door tried to respond to her greeting, but a huge, overweight duck zoomed past him.

"Hiya, Drake-a-roonie!"

Drake cringed. "Oh, no. Herb Muddlefoot," he muttered to himself.

"Sorry to barge in like this," Herb Muddlefoot declared in his horrible slang accent, "but our tayh-vayh broke, an' Pelligan's Island is just 'bout to come on. I hope ya don't mind if I borra your tayh-vayh!"

"Actually, Herb, I do mind-" Drake began, but the plump duck had already made himself at home on Drake's couch before the television set.

"Thank ya, Drake-a-roonie! You're a real trooper," replied Herb. He snatched the TV remote off the table beside the couch and flipped the channel to a rerun of Pelligan's Island.

"Oh, dearie me," said an elderly female voice, and a thin chicken in a blue dress and white apron walked in the house, followed by a shorter, fatter chicken in a red sweater. "I do hope we're not bothering you, Drake."

Drake gritted his teeth. "Oh, no. Not at all, Mrs. Muddlefoot," he lied. "I was ONLY trying to enjoy a simple breakfast in PEACE."

"Hey, Honker, what's the deal with your 'rents crashing at our place?" Gosalyn whispered to Honker. Honker, speechless, as always, shrugged and looked just as confused as she was.

"Is that all you're having for breakfast?" Tank, the young fat chicken in the red sweater, demanded, pointing to the half-eaten bagel Drake held in his hand.

"And just WHAT is wrong with my bagel?" Drake replied, offended.

Tank rolled his eyes. "Don't you have something healthy like Koo-Koo-Kola or potato chips?"

Drake raised an eyebrow at Tank's less-than-descriptive word "healthy". He gave Binki Muddlefoot a questioning gaze.

"Oh, I meant to tell you, Drake," Binki said, looking a little guilty. "We were hoping you had something to eat. We haven't had breakfast all morning."

"M-Maybe it was, um-um-um, because s-somebody raided the fridge," Honker tried to point out nervously.

Tank threw his younger brother a murderous glare and pounded one of his fists into his other palm. "Ya got somethin' to say about it, small fry?" he snarled.

"Um, uh, well I, uh..." Honker cringed under Tank's looming shadow. "N-N-No."

"That's what I thought," Tank sneered.

"Hey, lay off, you overweight turkey," Gosalyn growled defensively.

"Oh no, it's a little girl! The little girl's threatening me." Tank pretended to cower in fear, but a mocking gleam shone in his eyes. "Are you gonna send your army of dollies after me?"

"Why, you little-!" Gosalyn rolled up her sleves and started to approach Tank menacingly. Drake jumped forward and held his daughter back. "Lemme at him, lemme at him!-"

"Now, that's quite enough!" Drake bellowed. He had had quite enough. "All right, everybody! That is ENOUGH. Herb!" He stomped into the den. "Herb Muddlefoot, get up off that couch right now! Right this instant!"

Herb looked frightened. "B-But, Drake-a-roonie-"

"For the last time- DON'T CALL ME DRAKE-A-ROONIE!" hissed Drake.

"Now, now, Drake," Launchpad said, stepping in the room with an authoratative tone in his voice. "Let's all stay calm-"

"YOU STAY CALM!" growled Drake. "How would you feel if you lived next door to a bunch of maniacs who don't know the meaning of personal space?"

Launchpad gave Drake a confused look. Gosalyn looked worried, for once, and tried to step in between the three older ducks. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, the television screen flashed. Everyone turned to hear a familiar, sneering voice from onscreen.

"Hello, people of St. Canard!" A mouse with long buckteeth and squinty eyes hidden behind goggles grinned at the audience watching from behind the screen. The weird fellow was wearing a yellow spandex suit, a plug on the top of his head, and an outlet on his chest. "This is your favorite villain, Megavolt, coming to you live from Megavolt Studios!"

Another duck from onscreen with a huge zany grin and a protruding beak jumped in the way, shoving Megavolt aside. "This message is meant especially for Darkwing Duck from the ultimate toymaker, Quackerjack!"

A green mutant creature jumped in front of Quackerjack. He had unusual, fluffy, magenta petal-like hair and roots for hands and feet- half-plant, half-duck. "We're warning you, Darkwing Duck," he growled. "If you don't come and meet us in the final showdown, you'll face the wrath of Dr. Reginald Bushroot!"

"Tired of dealing with an annoying duck's meddlings?" A dog-shaped creature whose body seemed to be comprised entirely of water got in the way of Bushroot. He was scowling... as good as water creatures can scowl, I suppose. "Then come on down to the St. Canard television station, where you'll meet the Fearsome Five in a showdown. Or you get your money and your death wish back!"

"And I'll send my toys after you!" Quackerjack added. He grinned oddly. "IT'S PLAYTIME!"

"All right, all right. That's enough, you dolts," said a low, gruff voice. This time a dark duck wearing a black mask and a yellow and red outfit pushed his way onscreen. He gave the audience a bloodthirsty stare. "You've got exactly ten minutes to get your tail over here, Darkwing. Or we'll blow your precious St. Canard to kingdom come!"

The camera turned, revealing Bushroot, Quackerjack, and Megavolt standing with their hands on a lever connected to an explosive device. They wore evil grins, as if preparing to push the lever down and explode the place at a moment's notice. The camera then turned back to the duck in yellow and red. He laughed wickedly.

"Negaduck, you fiend," Drake muttered, his fists clenching.

"I suggest you hurry up, Darkwing," sneered Negaduck. "Chaos can't wait forever!" He let out another evil cackle, and the television went blank.

"Aw, darn," sniffed Herb, his lower lip quivering. "The tayh-vayh broke. Welp, guess I'll hafta call the electrician..." He got up off the couch and began to waddle his way over to the telephone.

Drake, however, was more concerned about the threatening message his heroic alter ego had received. For this was his city- his wonderful St. Canard- at stake! "Negaduck doesn't take threats lightly," Drake remarked to himself. "He said he'd blow St. Canard to pieces if I didn't get over to St. Canard TV Studios! Hmm. There's only one duck who can crack this case." He stood up straight and tall and belted out the words proudly. "This looks like a job for... DARKWING DU-"

He broke off when he noticed the Muddlefoots staring at him wonderingly. He blushed and chuckled nervously.

"Erm, I mean, we should leave this to Darkwing Duck. He'll know what to do," he stammered swiftly. When the Muddlefoots finally looked away, Drake pulled Gosalyn, Honker, and Launchpad closer. "Listen," he whispered to them. "I have a plan. We're going to go over there and get the drop on the Fearsome Five!"

"But you're don't even know what they're up to, D.W.," Launchpad protested. "They might have some nasty trick up their sleeve!" For once, he was making sense.

But Drake wasn't interested. He waved a hand dismissingly. "Nonsense, Launchpad. There's no trouble Darkwing Duck can't handle. I'll improvise!"

"Oh. You mean like the last time you improvised, when that Christmas tree knocked you unconscious and your tongue got stuck to a fire hydrant?" Gosalyn grumbled, crossing her arms.

"It wasn't my fault the stupid thing was covered in ice!" Drake responded angrily. He winced. "Look. Either you're with me or you're not. Any way you go about it, I'm going to the TV station and getting those crooks if it's the last thing I do!" He looked at them seriously. "So? I can count on you right?"

Launchpad and Gosalyn exchanged glances, then smiled at Drake.

"Aw, of course, we're with ya, D.W.," Launchpad said, grinning.

"Oh, that's great," Drake said, hugging them both around the neck. "Now, TO THE THUNDERQUACK!"

The three heroes raced off to another adventure. Herb noticed them hurrying out the door and called to them as they left.

"Hey, what's your rush, buddy-boys?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, dear, I hope there isn't any trouble," Binki added worriedly.

"We'd better foller 'em and find out, eh, honeybunch?" Herb agreed. "C'mon, sons. Pelligan's Island can wait."

Tank and Honker exchanged stunned glances. "That's a first," muttered Honker.

"Yeah, no kidding," Tank said. With reluctant sighs, he and his brother followed after the others out the door.