Holey Moley
By Sharan McQuack, Launchpad's wife.
With memories of the Marvel Family and "Superman vs. the Mole Men".
Where was I when the lights went out? Just before the great black-out of 1965, I was watching the old "Adventures of Superman". I was 5 years old. By the time I was six, I could recite Superman's origin story in by sleep.
Since the economy has stunk lately, Mr. McDuck has been receiving a lot more death threats lately. This has made his top stock investors nervous about him. Especially since Mr. McDuck was supposed to go to a testing of a new, revolutionary plane McDuck industries is trying to sell. They insisted he hire a bodyguard to take him there and back. Mr. McDuck didn't like the idea of being babied or of spending money on a bodyguard.
Mr. McDuck tried to convince them Duckworth could act as his bodyguard, but somehow they didn't believe THAT. So he asked Launchpad to drive him there and back.
"I'll get Duckworth and Mrs. Beakly to give the Mansion a good spring cleaning. They can get it done easier with me out for the day and the kids at school." Mr. McDuck said.
()()Cleaning out forty-something rooms? Easy? Only if YOU don't have to do it.()() Launchpad thought. But he said only: "On one condition: I get to test the plane. You already made it clear I'm to back off once you get there. Fine. I can't get much backer then if I'm testing the plane, can I?" Launchpad asked.
"Why should I let YOU test the plane?" Mr. McDuck asked.
"Who do you think DESIGNED the plane?" I asked.
"Sharan! Be polite to my boss!" Launchpad said.
"Launchpad, he's NOT going to force you to sit behide a desk and design planes all day if you admit YOU designed it! You're too good a pilot and it's WAY past time he admitted it. Sometimes I think you're a tad TOO good-natured." I said.
"LAUNCHPAD designed the plane. And he didn't tell me because he doesn't want to design planes?" Mr. McDuck asked.
"Not all day. I go nuts inside three days if I was stuck behide a desk all day." Launchpad replied.
I smiled, for I want Launchpad to stand up to Mr. McDuck more often. Launchpad is LOT politer and more patient than I am.
"Like you're sane NOW? OK, OK, you can test the plane. Even if that's just so I can explain you scramming the minute you get me there. Besides, if the plane can survive one of YOUR crashes, it can survive anything." Mr. McDuck sneered.
I somehow decided to let him live.
So, the next day, Launchpad packed the boxes with the disassembled plane in them into the back of the limo.
"This way, I'm also getting the plane there in a way others won't expect!" Mr. McDuck chuckled, pleased with his own cleverness.
So Launchpad drove Mr. McDuck toward the testing grounds. But as he drove thur the streets of Duckburg, a gigantic pothole opened up around the limo, surrounding it. The limo fell down the hole...and kept falling, down, down, down.
Launchpad grabbed some of the boxes, opening some and putting others aside.
"DO SOMETHING!" screamed Mr. McDuck.
"I am! Help me find the boxes marked "parachutes" so I can tie them to the limo's doors, open them up and save our lives!" Launchpad replied.
Mr. McDuck quickly looked thru the boxes, marked "doors", "wings", "seats", etc. till he found two marked "parachutes" and opened them. Launchpad, having no time to be polite, grabbed some chutes, and tied four chutes to each door.
"When I say "now", open the door on your side of the limo. "NOW!" Launchpad said.
Launchpad opened the doors on the driver's side of the limo, Mr. McDuck opened them on the passenger's side of the limo.
The chutes opened and Launchpad shut the doors and locked them. The chutes brought the limo down to a soft, safe landing on the bottom of the mother of all potholes.
"Mr. McDee? I don't think we're in Duckburg anymore." Launchpad said, pointing.
Mr. McDuck looked where Launchpad was pointing and saw: a city, a brand-new city. A still under construction city. Of moles. The moles, being nearsighted had not noticed the new arrivals as their arrival had been silent.
"Should I let them know where here?" Launchpad asked.
"Yes. They must of dug that giant pothole and I want to know why. I also want to make sure they don't dig anymore giant potholes." Mr. McDuck.
So Launchpad honked the limo's horn. Loudly and several times.
"Can't you ever be subtle?" Mr. McDuck demanded. (1)
"It got their attention, didn't it? Besides, who knows if they speak English or not." Launchpad replied.
A large important-looking mole came to them.
It spoke English, but not very well.
"Who you?" it asked.
"We people from surface. Fell down hole. Did you moles dig hole?" Mr. McDuck asked, pointing to the hole they had fallen down. Mr. McDuck had to point several times before the near-sighted mole saw what he meant.
"What "surface"? That hole lead to horrible empty place. No dirt. Too bright. We no like it, we run home. We were looking to expand our city. Make mistake, dig too far, dig in wrong direction." Chief Mole answered.
"That horrible empty bright place is "surface". Our home. We like it. We fell down that hole you left. Will you please fill it up after we leave? It's a nuisance to us." Mr. McDuck asked.
"OK. We no like surface. You LIVE there? You LIKE it?" chief Mole asked, clearly astonished.
"Yes. Tell me...you moles do a lot of digging...do you ever come across shiny stones? Hard, shiny stones?" Mr. McDuck asked, oh so casually.
"You mean diamonds, rubies, stuff like that? Sometimes. Such things rare, even down here. You dwarf? Dwarfs love those things." Chief Mole asked.
"I am NOT a dwarf!" Mr. McDuck thundered, being just a tad sensitive about his lack of height.(2)
"But if he had ears, I'd think he was a Ferengi!" Launchpad joked.
Unfortunately, nobody got the joke.
Meanwhile, back on the surface, Magica Despell was trying to take advantage of the fact Mr. McDuck was not home. She was trying to steal the Lucky Dime from the Money Bin. But between the toughness of the Bin and Gizmoduck, she got nowhere and soon flew off on her broomstick, empty handed.
As she she flew towards home, she saw confusion and delay up ahead. The policedogs of Duckburg had closed off the area surrounding the giant pothole. Yellow "do not cross" streamers and wooden barriers surrounded the hole, as did the cops, cop cars, the press- it was a circus.
Magica got curious and decided to see what was going on. She flew over the barriers and looked down. She saw the huge hole and knew that somebody or something had to have dug it.
()()If they can dig a hole like that, they can dig a hole anywhere. Like straight into the Money Bin, maybe?()() Magica thought.
She flew on her broomstick down the hole to find out who or what had dug that hole. She soon found herself flying over the city of Moles. Magica decided to make like Jardis in "The Silver Chair"(3)and use her magic to rule these people and make them her slaves.
()() I can use these moles to steal the Lucky Dime. I can use them to help me conquer the world.()() Magica thought, gleefully.
At first, she tried to hypnotise them, but it's hard to hypnotise somebody who can barely see their paw in front of their face. So she used pheromones against them, enspelling them. Since she is female, this only worked on the male moles. But the male moles were in charge, so by ruling the male moles, Magica ruled the moles.
The lady moles did not like this much. The male moles weren't paying attention to them anymore. They soon found out about the strange being who was controlling their males.
"She smells like the Overlanders who came here thru the hole. She must be one of them. Let us ask them for help, since they brought this problem to us." Cheiftess Mole said.
The Cheiftess Mole went to Mr. McDuck and Launchpad and told them about their problem.
"Why should we involve ourselves with something that does not concern us?" Mr. McDuck asked.
"She smell like an Overlander- like you. She must of come down the hole, we have never known of her before. She float thru air, like you did." Chieftess Mole said.
"What does she look like?" asked Launchpad, since a horrible suspicion was going thru his mind.
This question confused the Chieftess Mole. The moles relied on smell, not sight.
It was normally so dark down there, there was nothing to see. The hole made it light enough for Mr. McDuck and Launchpad, but not by much.
"Take us closer to her." Mr. McDuck said.
Once Mr. McDuck heard the mole say the newcomer was floating, he had the same suspicion Launchpad did.
They saw her before Chieftess Mole could smell her.
"Magica Despell! She is an old enemy of mine!" Mr. McDuck said.
"Mr. McDee, she must be controlling the moles so she can get at your Dime! If they can did ONE hole straight to Duckburg..." Launchpad began.
"They might be able to dig another into my Money Bin!" Mr. McDuck finished.
"Get rid of her for us. We will give you all the shiny stones we have. Half for each of you." Chieftess Mole asked.
"You mean I get to KEEP some of the Treasure I've bent over backwards to get for a change?" Launchpad asked, shocked.
This gave Mr. McDuck food for thought. He actually considered just how often Launchpad's bent over backwards to find a Treasure Launchpad hasn't gotten a plugged nickel of.
"Launchpad, you've been doing various flying jobs around Duckburg lately, since you have a wife and four kids..How would you like to test planes for me? Right in Duckburg, plenty of excitement and adventure." Mr. McDuck wheeled.
"In exchange, you get my share of the shiny stones? OK...but I get the job and get PAID for the job at the usually rate for test pilots. And can the insults, please." Launchpad replied.
"Deal." Mr. McDuck said, shaking Launchpad's hand on it.
"Now, how do we get rid of Magica?" Mr. McDuck mused.
"Magica controlling the moles thru smell. The moles depend on smell the way we depend on sight, right? What if we overpower the smell with a stronger one? A much stronger one?" Launchpad suggested.
And he went to the limo and started unloading boxes. Launchpad stopped when he got the a certain box.
"That's not one of the boxes containing the experimental plane." Mr. McDuck said.
"I know. I took this box with me because I was planning to pick up some extra money crop dusting in the Joyrider after testing the new plane. " Launchpad began.
" I've been that a lot lately with this: an old family recipe insecticide. It's all natural and it only kills bugs, and only bugs that eat crops and doesn't hurt anything else. "Launchpad continued.
"But we've never been able to sell the recipe since it has one big drawback. It STINKS. And I mean it smells AWFUL. Whenever somebody pays me to spray their crop, they go into town for the day so they don't have to smell the stuff." Launchpad explained.
"I'll unload and assemble the test plane and use this stuff to overpower the scent Magica is using to command the moles." Launchpad stated.
"In my new plane?" Mr. McDuck demanded.
"I'm going to have to put it together and fly it to get us out of here. How else are we going to get out of here?" Launchpad asked.
"True enough. Does that stuff really smell bad enough to overpower Magica's smell power?" Mr. McDuck asked.
"It REEKS." Launchpad said.
So they unpacked the boxes and Launchpad put them together. Mr. McDuck couldn't help with that part much, since what he knows about planes could be engraved on the head of a very small pin. (4)
"It does smell bad, doesn't it?" Mr. McDuck said, as he helped pour the stuff into the fuel tanks since the experimental plane wasn't rigged for crop dusting.
"You ain't smelt nothing yet. Wait till it comes out as a gas. P-U!" Launchpad replied.
"I'm coming along. If this doesn't work, we'll just fly back to the surface. Maybe we can trap Magica down here. she can rule the moles if she wants to. Maybe that will make her happy and she'll leave us alone!" Mr. McDuck said.
"She'll just command the moles to dig a tunnel right into your Bin, steal your Dime and use it- and her army of moles- to conquer and rule the world!" Launchpad responded.
"Then let's hope this crazy plan of yours works!" Mr. McDuck replied.
"You'll need this." said Launchpad, handing Mr. McDuck a gas mask and putting one on himself.
So they took off in the experimental plane and flew around the mole city. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, Mr. McDuck noticed a terrible odor that got worse and worse until he finally gave in and put the gas mask on. The moles noticed it too and they had no gas masks- and very good sense of smell.
The awful odor overwhelms Magica's pheromones and the moles stopped obeying her. Worse, they got mad, once they could think for themselves and realized this THING from the surface had been fooling and controlling them. They might of killed Magica with their bare claws if she didn't hop on her broom and fly back to the surface.
Launchpad landed the plane. The moles hailed them as heroes.
The Chief Mole came to them and said:
"The Mrs. here tells me she promised that we'ld give you all the shiny stones we have if you got rid of that nuisance for us. You got rid of her for us. A deal is a deal." Chief Mole said, cuddling Chieftess Mole a bit.
And the Moles led and Launchpad to the shiny stones. Mr. McDuck was rather disappointed when he saw that most of them were quartz or semi-precious gems. There were some diamonds, rubies,emeralds, etc. But most of those were of poor quality. Apparently, the near-sighted moles could not tell the difference.
Apparently, the dwarfs the Moles traded with weren't very picky.
"Did you know about this?" Mr. McDuck demanded of Launchpad.
"No, of course not! I mean...I know some shiny stones aren't worth anything. But mostly I know a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush! You were offering a job as a test pilot, at a test pilot's pay, which is a sure thing. The shiny stones were kinda iffy, especially since what am I going to DO with them, except sell them to you?" Launchpad answered.
Launchpad has a lot of common sense.
"Hmpfh. Well, I didn't make out too bad for a day's work. There are some quality diamonds, rubies and what not here. Some of the semi-precious stones are of gemstone quality. The rest I can sell as industrial stones- for diamond-edged cutting tools, watchworks movements, that sort of thing." Mr. McDuck said.
So Launchpad loaded the shiny stones (except for the quartz)on to the experimental plane and flew Mr. McDuck out the pothole to the the testing grounds. As soon as "the Overlanders' were gone, the Moles closed the pothole up. They had quite enough of Overlanders.
Launchpad landed the plane at the testing grounds, let Mr. McDuck off and then Launchpad put the plane thru it's paces perfectly. Soon, Launchpad was working as a test pilot for Mr. McDuck, at a test pilot's wages. A deal is a deal.
The End.
(1) No, he can't. That's one thing Launchpad and I have in common: we both possess the subtlety of a Sherman tank.
(2) Mr. McDee may wear glasses, but he is definitely NOT a dork. Not everybody who wears glasses is. Not everybody who doesn't, isn't.
(3) I love the "Chronicles of Narnia". Even if, as a Nice Jewish girl, I have to pretend like I don't notice the Christian implications of the books in order to enjoy some VERY good books. I notice, but I sort of look the other way and whistle. (Whose bright idea was it to throw that dork into "Prince Caspin'? I'm more like Lucy than Susan, so it was only mildly annoying, but he didn't belong there.)
(4) Just like what Launchpad knows about stocks and bonds could be engraved on the head of a very small pin.