Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck. Surprised?
GOSALYN MALLARD RETURNS TO ZOMBIE ACRES (By Gosalyn Mallard)
CHAPTER ONE
PART 1
The Size of It
'It was a dark and stormy night. The fog was thick and made all the streetlamps look like puny fireflies.'
Gosalyn Mallard read the fruits of her labours as she stood in front of the TV. It was Saturday after dinner and she'd been slaving away all day on this assignment and she was ready for her dad's input.
'Darkwing Duck was chasing a hooligan who'd smashed a window, when a funny feeling came over him. The crime fighter stiffened, unable to move. Then ... everything went black.'
'That was not the way it happened!' Her contrary dad interrupted.
Gosalyn groaned, 'Come on, dad, it's just a story.'
'Using my case file!' Drake retorted from the living room sofa. 'A little accuracy can go a long way.'
'Gee, dad.' Gosalyn said cheekily, 'But what if the teacher thinks it's so accurate that my dad really is Darkwing Duck?'
He scoffed. 'That's no excuse for being careless. As for the whole "stormy night" thing you want to skip on the cliché's as much as possible.'
'It's not like I'm taking it to a publisher or anything and like you're one to talk.' Gosalyn rolled her eyes. 'Besides I was just setting the mood.'
'Anyway, isn't this story supposed to be about you, not me?'
Gosalyn paused and flicked through her notebook back to the English question. 'Write a story about your favourite subject. It could be your favourite toy or movie.' She looked up at him. 'So I've titled it "Gosalyn Mallard Returns to Zombie Acres" by Gosalyn Mallard.'
'Gosalyn Mallard.' Drake repeated her name. 'As I plainly recall "this" particular story all began late one school night in the video arcade.'
'It wasn't that late, dad, it was-.'
'It was after dark on a school night without Launchpad or me around to keep you safe.' His eyes gleamed at her.
Gosalyn sighed in defeat and sat down at the coffee table with a cushion under her. With her sharpened pencil in hand she opened her notebook to a fresh page.
'It all started when two boys ... I'd better change their names ... Freddie and Georgie ... challenged me and Honker to a showdown after dinnertime with all hands on deck. With a handful of aces and a pocketful of arcade pennies, I accepted the easy challenge and soon enough all four of us kids had snuck out after dinner and were there at the arcade. The lights were low and the game machines stood back to back and side by side as the lights blinked colourfully and the tunes sang cheerfully.'
"Come on, Honker, you can do it!" Gosalyn cheered him on as Honker came face to face with the evil Crow henchmen of Cetti Alpha Three. Gosalyn watched Honker blast the enemy space ships.
"Woo, you beat him, Honker, he's still on level 4!"
"Rats!" Georgie cursed as he crashed his last ship. The penny arcade game sang electronically.
Everyone was watching Honker now and a few minutes later his video screen flashed with 'Game Over!' The penny arcade game sang electronically and asked him for his name to add to the high score board.
"Oh, yeah! Honker Muddlefoot: champion of outer space!" Gosalyn turned to Freddie behind. "Ah, excuse me; I believe you owe me five bucks." The boy grunted and miserably parted with the dough. Gosalyn clapped her pal's back. "Come on Honker, time to celebrate!"
They pulled away from the semi-abandoned Arcadian.
"Gosalyn, we really need to go home. We shouldn't be out here at all, it's a school night." Honker pushed his glasses back up his nose. "In fact, I still can't believe you actually talked me into ..."
"Not now, Honker, we're going to celebrate." Gosalyn ignored his argument and waved the five dollar note in his face. "Super sized slushies." She turned and he followed on her heels.
Honker resigned himself to following her. "How'd you know I could beat him?"
"Honker, Honker, Honker!" Gosalyn tsked. "Why are you always so hard on yourself?" She patted him on the back and then ushered him into the Last Minute store next door to the arcade.
Mr. Terrance the store manager gazed down at them from behind the counter. He was a kid-friendly guy, tall with a mild look on his face like he'd stood behind that counter so many evenings that just maybe some of his brain had gone to slush like the ice in the whirligig drinks machine. Unfortunately for Gosalyn's mood, Mr Terrance was also a parent-friendly guy.
"Do your parents know where you are?" He asked Gosalyn and Honker who'd barely made it though the door yet.
"Come on, Mr. Terrance," Gosalyn argued, "I don't see a security guard on the door, and we're old enough to be out by ourselves."
It didn't seem like the adult believed her very much; standing there like he was, slowly thinking about what he should be doing right now. Rather than wait for him to figure it out, Gosalyn decided to take a more proactive approach.
"Paying customers," she sang, waving the five dollar bill at him.
"Now, I didn't think you'd come in here loitering, little girl, but ..."
"Two large rainbow slushies thanks." Gosalyn ordered.
Mr. Terrance turned away to the drinks machine. Gosalyn's sheer determination and will had triumphed once again.
"He's got a point, Gos." Honker started up again. "What if your dad finds us missing?"
"Dad works a graveyard shift. He's not likely to show." Gosalyn answered.
"Here you are, young Gosalyn. Now, can I get you a phone so you can call your parents to pick you up?"
"Er, actually that..." Honker began.
"We're fine, thank you." Gosalyn cut Honker off and handed Mr. Terrance the five dollar note and grabbed her drink.
She turned away, fuming. "What is this, a conspiracy? If I was a bit taller, I wouldn't have this problem." Gosalyn stormed over to the only little cafe booth in the store that just so happened to be under the shopfront window.
"Your dad says you're short because you eat so much junk food."
"No way; what does he know? Plus I'm the same size as you."
"I don't eat much." Honker reminded her, "Tank hogs all the second helpings."
"Anyway, dad ate junk food too when he was a kid, you can bet that, Honker. It's just he doesn't like admitting when he's wrong."
Honker went very solemn. "He sure doesn't eat a lot of junk food now." He mentioned.
His words reminded Gosalyn of the fact that just a few months ago her dad had turned into a vampire and now he couldn't drink soda-pop anymore. The 'vampire thing' came up in weird places; like in the supermarket when he left Gosalyn's side when their trolley reached the meat section. It was the smell of quietly rotting flesh that really drove him nuts. Logically, rationally, philosophically and even existentially the idea of meat didn't bother him. So from a sensitive stomach of before to a sensitive stomach now, not a lot had really changed and he was still a good guy.
Gosalyn answered quietly. "He's alright."
They slurped their drinks for a few moments in silence, playing with the larger ice crystals with their straws amidst the bread and shampoo specials and looking out on the street.
From out of the distance there was the roaring sound of a motorcycle engine coming closer.
"Get down!" Gosalyn grabbed Honker and they hid beneath the table as the sound roared by the window. They waited, listening in heart pounding anticipation as the motorcycle noise grew distant again.
Honker blew his nose suddenly and Gosalyn squawked in fright.
"Honker!" She complained. "Did you have to do that right then?"
"Is it time to go home now?" Honker asked coolly, putting his handkerchief back in his pocket.
"Alright, so that was a close one, I've got to admit." Gosalyn backed down from her previous bravado a little. "I suppose it's time to go home, anyway." She looked up at the clock on the wall behind the Slushy machine. It said nine o'clock. She looked below the clock to see Mr. Terrance at the counter. He had an amused expression on his face as he blinked back at her.
With a grunt Gosalyn grabbed her slushy and checked Honker was behind her before she went out the door and they started off home.
"Wise guy." Gosalyn snorted quietly to herself as they trekked back home.
"Who? The boys at the arcade?" Honker asked.
"No, the milk bar guy. I bet he was a vampire."
"Will you p-please stop talking about vampires?"
"But it's true." Gosalyn dumped her backpack on the sidewalk underneath a streetlamp. "Why'd you think I lug this bag around everywhere lately?"
"Uh, because you've suddenly taken an interest in homework?" That was Honker trying to be funny.
Gosalyn straightened, "I don't believe we've met." She held out her hand. "I'm Gosalyn Mallard and you are?"
Honker didn't answer; he just looked carefully at her backpack. "I have no idea why you've started carrying your backpack everywhere." He said seriously.
"Because ..." She opened up her metal pencil case and showed him her set of sharp pencils amidst the gleaming metal of the tin before snapping it shut and shrugging her back pack on again. "I don't want to be caught unprepared."
"You wouldn't be caught at all if you got home before dark." Honker reminded her.
"Now there's a zero fun way of living." Gosalyn said.
"You live longer."
"I'm not sure if you can apply mathematics to this situation, Honker." Gosalyn advised.
"Well, not unless it's algebra."
Honker raced to keep up with her as they approached their houses. "So what's it like having a vampire for a dad?"
Gosalyn shrugged, "Not much different. Being undead doesn't change someone. With dad, the reality is that now he's a vampire, he just goes out there and finds vampire sized problems and takes them on instead." She sighed. "I even bought one of your dad's Quackerware containers and a mini-brush; just to be sure I could rescue him if the worst happened."
"I thought that was just your hair brush." That was Honker being funny again.
Gosalyn snorted. "Goodnight, champ. Killer moves tonight."
"Thanks, Gosalyn."
Gosalyn turned down the driveway and snuck back inside just as though she'd never left.
Gosalyn put her pencil down on the fold of her notebook and looked expectantly at her dad, 'so how was that for setting the scene?'
'It's tons more accurate now.' Her father approved. 'Also, establishing vampires in the first scene lends credibility to the rest of the story.'
Gosalyn shrugged, 'Yeah, but it's gone a bit camp though.'
'Gosalyn, your story is about zombies. Do you really want to scare your teacher into early retirement?'
Gosalyn sniggered, 'That'd be way cool.'
Drake rolled his eyes, 'Go on, Gosalyn, as I recall we are now up to the not-stormy night part.'
'Right,' Gosalyn looked down at her notes again. 'Um, let's see.' She tapped her pencil on her beak, 'how does "meanwhile" sound? Meanwhile, dad?'
'How do you normally tell a story, Gos? It's not much different on paper.'
Gosalyn struggled with the connective. 'I give up.'
'Meanwhile, little did Gosalyn Mallard know, little did the young Gosalyn Mallard know, but right at this time Darkwing Duck was getting into troubles of his own. Not your ordinary street hooligan sized troubles, but ... vampire sized troubles.'