Donald looked over the letter his sister Della had sent him all those years back.
"Dear Donald;" it read.
"I am sending your angel nephews Louie, Huey and Dewey to stay with you. I hope you enjoy them.
Your sister, Della!"
Donald kept the letter and walked downstairs into the living room where the boys were gathered with their suitcases.
"Now you be good for your Uncle Scrooge, boys." Donald said.
"But Uncle Donald-he's so cheap!" The boy in red said.
"And miserly!" The boy in blue added.
"And he agreed to take you in." Donald said.
"Why can't we go with you?" The boy in green asked.
"Because the Navy is no place for three eleven year old boys." Donald replied. He looked over at his boys and sighed.
It wasn't like Donald had even wanted to leave his boys. He had been called back into action by the Navy. Maybe since the boys were older, they'd be less likely to play a prank (especially that nasty firecracker one) on Uncle Scrooge. Given how old he was, it'd probably give him a heart attack and kill him.
There were plenty of other people Donald would rather have left his boys with than his Uncle Scrooge. If his girlfriend Daisy wasn't busy touring war zones as a reporter, then Donald would have preferred to leave his boys with her. At least Daisy had never mined gold in the Klondike. His dear friend George was now a single parent, having just lost his wife. Mickey was finding it hard enough to run his nightclub without having to be awake most of the day too. And Minnie just didn't have the resources to look after three growing boys.
So... here they were.
"I love you boys, you know that?"
"Yes, Uncle Donald." They chorused boredly.
A knock at the door and Donald went to answer it.
Standing in the door was an old man dressed in red. He had on a bored expression as he leaned up against his cane.
"Donald." He greeted.
"Uncle Scrooge." Donald greeted in return. "Take care of my boys."
"I will." Scrooge said coldly. "I can't believe you're rejoining the Navy. There's no profit in it."
"They asked me to go back, Uncle Scrooge." Donald said.
"What made you join the first time?"
"I wanted to see the world."
"So?" Scrooge rolled his eyes in indifference. "Buy a globe."
Donald grit his teeth. "You remember the boys' names, right Uncle Scrooge?"
"Herbert, Dew... Ford and... Leo?" Scrooge shrugged.
"Huey, Dewey and Louie." Donald said in irritation.
"I knew that." Scrooge said. "I was using their official names."
"Which are Hubert, Deuteronomy and Louis." Donald said.
"I knew that too." Scrooge said. "So where are the boys? And when do I get to see why Della didn't want them?"
It was true. Donald's twin sister Della had abandoned her triplet sons. Ever since their father had left their mother (scared off by that firecracker prank), Donald had been the father figure in Huey, Dewey and Louie's lives. Then, when their mother had left the boys with Donald for what was supposed to be a day, Donald stepped in and retired from the Navy to become their sole caretaker. He'd ended up officially adopting the triplets and though they had his last name, they still called him 'Uncle Donald'. But he made sure the triplets knew they were loved by someone.
"You don't." Donald snapped. "Huey, Dewey and Louie are good boys."
Scrooge scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that."
The triplets came to the door.
"What's going on, Uncle Donald?" The triplet in blue asked. He caught sight of his Uncle Scrooge and his heart sank. "Oh. Hello, Uncle Scrooge."
"Hello... Louie?" Scrooge asked.
"Dewey." He answered.
"I'm Louie." The one in green said.
"And I'm Huey." The one in red said.
"Right. Well..." Scrooge steadied himself on his cane. "Come along then."
"What?" The triplets chorused.
"You're staying with me. In my mansion."
"Really?" Louie asked hopefully.
"Aye. And it's only a brisk, three mile walk." Scrooge smiled.
"Three miles?!" Huey's shoulders dropped.
Donald simply rolled his eyes. Just like that old skinflint not to pay for a taxi.
As the boys got their suitcases, Donald took the time to address them one last time. "Remember, boys," Donald began, "no tricks or funny business. No pranks. And be good for your Uncle Scrooge." He hugged each of the boys in turn.
"We promise, Uncle Donald." The Boys said.
"I'll see you when I get shore leave." Donald said, waving the boys off.
At Uncle Scrooge's mansion, they were greeted by Scrooge's butler-a man who seemed extremely stuck up and displeased to see them. The triplets paid no attention to him.
Inside, an over eager young man, no more than twenty-five, rushed over to Scrooge, tripping over himself to greet him, like a little dog greeting his owner at the end of a day.
"Mr McDee! Mr McDee! Are these your nephews?"
"Yes they are, Launchpad." Scrooge said.
It was then that the boys got a better look at the young man. He had a black eye and blotches of bruising on his face and arms. One of his hands was bandaged up and Huey wasn't sure, but he thought that the guy had a false leg, based on how he tripped over himself and clumsily waddled over.
"You're Junior Woodchucks!" Launchpad said excitedly, noticing the handbook in the side pocket of Huey's bag. "I'm a Junior Woodchuck troop leader-come join my troop!"
"We'll think about it." Dewey said.
"Boys, this is my pilot and... Chauffeur, Launchpad. Launchpad, these are my nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie." Scrooge said.
"Uncle Scrooge." Huey pulled on Scrooge's sleeve. "Does Launchpad have a..."
"A what, Dewey?" Scrooge asked impatiently.
"I'm Huey." Huey said indignantly.
"A what, Huey?" Scrooge hastily corrected himself. "A plane? Yes, only the idiot keeps crashing them! That's why the black eye and sprained wrist. Unless you're crazy, do not get into a plane with Launchpad McQuick."
Launchpad smiled. "Don't, Mr McDee, you're making me blush."
"Wait-did he say McQuick or McQuack?" Dewey asked. "Scottish accent, see-"
"Launchpad McQuick, at your service." Launchpad took a small bow.
"Is that really your name?" Louie asked. "Launchpad?"
Launchpad shrugged. "It's on my birth certificate."
"Launchpad, do you have a false leg?" Huey blurted out.
Scrooge's eyes widened as he did a double take towards his nephew. "Louie! You don't just-"
"Huey." He corrected aggressively.
"Still, you can't just ask people these things!" Scrooge said quickly, "And no, he doesn't. He's just always this clumsy."
"He's right there, little buddies." Launchpad said. "In fact, Mr McDee's always saying my brain is like a teflon pan-"
"Because nothing sticks." Scrooge finished. "Right. I'm off to my money bin. Stay out of trouble."
"We will, Uncle Scrooge." The triplets chorused.
"I was talking to him." Scrooge pointed his cane at Launchpad, who shrugged innocently.
"Duckworth!" Scrooge shouted.
The pompous butler appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Yes, sir."
"Keep an eye on the triplets." Scrooge said. "They're Donald's kids so they're bound to be trouble."
"Hey!" Louie snapped. "Uncle Donald is not a trouble maker!"
"Yeah! He was in the Army!" Huey said.
"And now he's in the Navy!" Dewey added indignantly.
Scrooge turned to leave. "Launchpad, get the car."
"Can't I stay with the kids?" Launchpad asked.
"You'll have plenty of time with them, Lad." Scrooge said. "They're staying with me indefinitely. Might as well change their last names from Dirk to McDuff."
"Which car, Mr McDee?" Launchpad asked, sounding slightly defeated.
"The least expensive one, since you're the one driving." Scrooge said.
"Yes, Mr McDee." Launchpad followed Scrooge out of the room.
Duckworth glared at the triplets and turned his nose in the opposite direction and walked that way. He made a quick hand movement to indicate the boys to follow him.
The three boys looked at each other and followed the snooty butler to another room where a woman was sitting with a young girl who seemed to be the same age as the boys.
"These are the nephews." Duckworth said and left the room without another word.
The woman stood up and instantly struck fear into the hearts of the triplets. Her stature was intimidating and her muscles bulging. She stood over the boys and put her hands to her hips.
"So which one of you is which?" She asked.
"Huey."
"Dewey."
"Louie."
The triplets pointed to themselves in turn.
"Who's the oldest?"
Huey and Dewey pointed at Louie who shrugged casually.
"And who's the youngest?"
Louie and Huey pointed to Dewey who waved.
"You're the middle child?" She pointed to Huey.
Huey nodded. "So we've been told all our lives."
"Right." The woman said. "I'm Mrs Beasley, Mr McDuff's housekeeper. While you are living here, you shall follow my rules." She said. "And there are a lot of them." She pointed over to a printed out list of rules hanging from the wall.
"What?" Louie protested. "That's not fair!"
"Beasley!" The indignant voice of Scrooge McDuff screamed out.
"Everything's fair." Mrs Beasley stood up and walked out of the room. However, she came back and rested her hand on the door frame. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't touch anything." She ordered before leaving for real.
The girl crawled over from her spot in the corner of the room. She was wearing a pink dress and had a bow in her hair.
"Hi." She greeted. "So... You're Scrooge McDuff's nephews?"
"Grand nephews actually." Dewey corrected.
"Huey, Dewey and Louie McDuff, right?"
"Louie, Huey and Dewey Dirk." Louie said.
"Right." The girl nodded. "Right. Anyway, I'm Abigail Vanderbilt-no relation."
"To who?" Huey asked.
"I don't know." Abby shrugged. "Granny always tells me to say that. Oh, that was my Granny you guys just met."
"Where are your parents?" Dewey asked.
"Dead." Abby said casually. To the boys' shocked expressions, she replied; "I never knew them. Why are you guys here at McDuff Manor? I heard it's because your uncle's in the Navy."
"It is." Louie confirmed.
"Our dad left when we were little." Dewey said.
"And our mom left shortly after." Huey said.
"We don't know where she is. She could be in space for all we know." Louie said.
"Oh..." Abby hissed. "And I thought my backstory was sad. Launchpad's backstory is like... Opposite of yours. He left his family when he was like twelve or something."
"I know Uncle Scrooge said no, but does Launchpad have a false leg?" Huey asked.
Abby shook her head. "Nope. Can confirm Launchpad is-miraculously-a hundred percent in one piece. I've seen him with a bathing suit on. And before you ask, his name is definitely Launchpad. I researched him and his family."
"What?" The boys chorused.
"Yeah!" Abby nodded furiously. "Ever heard of... The Flying McQuicks?" She lowered her voice to a whisper.
The triplets shook their heads.
"All of them start to fly at a young age. And they all have flying themed first names. Anyway, Launchpad-who is a horrible pilot-no, that's not fair. He's a great pilot, only he's terrible at landing. Anyway, he crashed a plane and ran away from home and he met Scrooge when he was like fourteen. I've known him as long as I can remember and he must have broken every bone in his body at least once. And not once have I seen his parents."
"Sad for Launchpad." Huey said. "But are you sure he doesn't have a false leg?"
Louie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "For god's sake, Huey, let it go."
"Wouldn't it be cool if our Uncle Scrooge had a pilot with a peg leg?" Dewey asked.
"Probably would be cooler if he was a ship captain." Huey said. "But it would be cool."
Mrs Beasley walked back into the room. "What would be 'cool', Dewey?" She asked.
"Huey." He corrected, yet again.
"Yes."
"Nothing... Mrs Beasley." Huey answered. "Just, we're going now, so..." He tried to sidestep the burly housekeeper, but was stopped immediately.
"You're not going anywhere." Mrs Beasley dropped a plastic bag on the floor. "My services are needed by Mr McDuff. But he has given me this for the four of you."
"Me too?" Abby pointed to herself.
"Yes." Mrs Beasley answered.
Louie and Huey opened the bag.
"A colouring book." Louie frowned. "A box of four crayons?"
"Marbles?" Huey looked at the bag in slight disgust. "Who plays with marbles anymore? I thought they were as obsolete as the VCR."
Abby went to the bag. "A small book of... A dictionary?"
Dewey took the last things from the bag. "Scrabble. And a Bible. Why a Bible?"
"Do not question what Mr McDuff has given you." Mrs Beasley said. "Enjoy your gifts." She left again almost as quickly as she entered.
"They don't feel much like gifts to me." Abby threw the dictionary to one side. "Come on. I know somewhere we can go." She smiled mischievously.
Scrooge was in his study with Mrs Beasley and Duckworth. He was sitting at his desk examining a photo of him and his sister Hortense and her children, Donald and Della.
He looked at more photos that were framed in the study-he and Hortense adventuring together. Him on a jungle adventure with Donald and Della. Him and his sister and her children all adventuring together. One of Donald and Della adventuring without Scrooge-who at that point had been sitting out with a broken leg. Another of him and Della adventuring in South America after Donald had joined the Army. Another of him and Donald after Della had joined the Air Force-and another of the twins in their respective uniforms after Donald had left the Army and joined the Navy.
Never, in all their years adventuring together, did Scrooge imagine that Della would up and leave her children for their father, but it happened. He didn't want to admit it to Donald, but he knew where Della was.
He picked up another photo on his desk-him and Launchpad in Africa. He was teaching the young pilot the art of adventuring. Would that stop with his nephews here? As much as Scrooge didn't want to admit it, he had a soft spot for the pilot. The pilot he'd met ten years ago, when he was thirteen-just a scrawny runaway. Scrooge had pretty much adopted him there and then. He had no idea where the pilot's parents were or even who they were-whether they were still alive. He just saw someone who needed guidance. He offered Launchpad a home, an education and food and drink-only the cheapest of course. But the boy thrived. When the boy turned sixteen, Scrooge offered him a job.
Scrooge had stuck by Launchpad when things got tough. And the poor boy went through some hard times. And yet the young pilot had managed to walk away from most of his crashes without injury. Fortunately, Beasley and Duckworth were there to care for his surrogate son if he needed it-which he did, sometimes. Even Launchpad wasn't immune to injury.
"Mr McDuff."
The voice of Mrs Beasley snapped Scrooge from his thoughts.
"Yes, Mrs Beasley?"
"Your nephews." Mrs Beasley said simply. "What do you plan on doing about them?"
"Keep them out of trouble." Scrooge replied. "I'll have them join Launchpad's Junior Woodchuck troop-at least then they'll be too busy collecting merit badges to get into any trouble."
"But is Mr McQuick the best role model?" Duckworth asked.
"What do you mean, Duckworth?" Scrooge asked.
"I don't recall ever seeing any time he has not had any type of injury."
"So?" Scrooge shrugged. "I'm always off adventuring. Donald's in the Navy and Della..." He stopped himself before he could say anything else.
"What Duckworth means is would it be worth it for the boys to be in a scout troop where the leader has injuries?"
"Perfect for them to get their first aid merit badges!" Scrooge argued.
"What about that time Launchpad was trapped in the fuselage of his crashed plane and his spleen was pulverised?" Mrs Beasley asked.
"Or that time his leg was impaled by plane wreckage?" Duckworth added.
"Or when his rib cage was crushed by plane wreckage and he broke his ribs and one of them pierced his lung so he was coughing up blood?" Mrs Beasley said.
"Or that time a piece of plane impaled his stomach like a rotisserie chicken?"
"Or that time-"
"I get it!" Scrooge snapped. "My boy's accident prone!"
"And you continue to pay his medical bills." Duckworth said.
"But you go to the free clinic." Mrs Beasley pointed out.
"Launchpad's my employee. I have a duty to give him... Insurance." Scrooge shuddered at the word 'insurance'. "But he's part of my family. Just like Huey, Dewey, Louie and Donald."
"What about Della?" Duckworth asked.
"She gave up her right to be a McDuff the day she abandoned her children." Scrooge said coldly.
"And Gladstone?" Mrs Beasley asked.
"Bah!" Scrooge exclaimed. "That extraordinarily lucky piece of crap? I hate him. Donald does too. Useless twerp's never worked a day in his life. And I don't trust anyone who doesn't know the meaning of 'hard work'."
"Right." Mrs Beasley nodded.
"Yes, Mr McDuff, sir." Duckworth said.
"Treat the triplets like you would treat Launchpad. That means if any one of them hurts themselves, you are to wait on them hand and foot."
"Yes, Mr McDuff." Mrs Beasley said in a low growl.
"Good." Scrooge said. He stood up and grabbed his cane. "I'm going to my money bin to count today's profits. Look after the wee laddies."
"Check it out." Abby smiled and turned the light on. "Scrooge McDuff's treasures!"
"Whoa." The triplets looked around in awe.
"I had no idea Uncle Scrooge had treasures." Huey said.
"Yeah, I thought it was just gold and money." Louie said.
"Well, he keeps all the best treasure in his money bin." Abby said. "But there are some treasures he keeps here."
"Like what?" Dewey asked.
"This ship." Abby pointed to a model ship balanced delicately on a plinth. "That Mayan gold coin. This lemming skeleton."
"What's that?" Dewey pointed at something poking from behind a pedestal.
"A picture of Launchpad." Abby said casually, taking the photo up from the floor. "Pretty sure Scrooge loves Launchpad only he won't admit it."
"What makes you think that?" Huey asked.
"Well, there was that one time where Launchpad crashed his plane at the Duckburg Air Show."
"Wait," Huey began, "I think I saw something like that in the newspaper."
"Yeah, it made the newspaper." Abby said. "Anyway, Launchpad literally walked away from that crash with just a broken wrist, but Mr McDuff actually paid for Launchpad's plane to be fixed."
"Wow. That's amazing. Not like the old skinflint at all." Huey said, startled that his preconceived notions of his Uncle Scrooge had been all wrong.
"Would he pay for any of our stuff to be fixed like that?" Dewey asked.
"Well, probably." Abby shrugged. "You're family."
The triplets branched out and went to look at separate things.
Huey found what looked to be an old superhero costume. "I didn't know Uncle Scrooge was a superhero." He said.
Louie was mesmerised by a bottle cap on a table. "That must be the Bottle Cap of Destiny!"
"Check this out!" Dewey shouted. "I-it's Mom!" He picked up a photo frame and waved it in the air excitedly. "It's Mom!"
"Mom?" Louie and Huey said at the same time. They both rushed to Dewey's side.
"It's Mom!" Huey said.
"And she's with Uncle Donald!" Louie said. "And... Uncle Scrooge?"
"Who's that?" Huey pressed a finger to a smug looking man in the corner of the frame.
"That..." Abby began, "That is-well it looks like, Gladstone Grander."
"Who's that?" The boys chorused.
"I don't know." Abby said. "I just know that Mr McDuff mentions him sometimes and that he's in a few photos. When Mr McDuff mentions Gladstone Grander, usually your uncle gets mentioned too."
"Nice things-"
Abby shook her head. "No." She said without skipping a beat. "Never."
"So Uncle Scrooge hates Uncle Donald?" Dewey asked.
Abby hummed. "I think it's Gladstone Grander that doesn't like your uncle."
"Funny." Louie said. "Uncle Donald's never mentioned any Gladstone Grander before."
"Maybe Uncle Donald hates him too." Huey suggested. "Hates him enough not to mention him."
"That certainly sounds like something Uncle Donald would do." Louie agreed.
"Bonjoor kids." A voice came from somewhere.
The kids jumped in shock and turned to the voice-Abby pointing her flashlight.
Their fear was not well placed, however, as it was only Launchpad.
"Launchpad!" Abby huffed. "Didn't I tell you not to come in here when I'm looking at Mr McDuff's treasures?!"
"Sorry, Abby, Mr McDee wanted the cheapest car and I forgot where I put it." Launchpad said innocently. "Turns out it's in this garage."
"Garage?" The boys looked around. The things they hadn't noticed before-such as the cars, the stacks of newspapers and the car air fresheners-were glaringly obvious now.
"Yeah guys. This is the garage." Abby chuckled nervously. "Sorry. But Mr McDuff keeps some cool things in here."
Launchpad squeezed past the kids, knocking over a can of orange paint in the process. He quickly put his hand to his throat. "Aw crap. Mr McDee's going to kill me for that."
Abby frowned and pointed at the pilot. "Dinnay goh wastin' mah moneh, Lawnchpad, yah ahdyat!"
"Wow, Abby, you sounded just like him." Launchpad glanced nervously back at the kids.
"Go, Launchpad!" Abby hissed. "I'll take the fall!"
Scrooge and Mrs Beasley were walking the halls of the mansion together on the way to the cheap car.
"The boys are nothing but trouble. I know they are." Scrooge said. "They're mischievous prank pullers, constantly getting into trouble for it. Donald dumped them in my lap, so now they're my responsibility. But they're such troublesome little brats. How did I let Donald talk me into taking care of those little beasts? Their own parents didn't even want them."
The kids shared a glance of surprise and hurt as Scrooge had said it outside the garage.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it, kids." Launchpad said, trying (and failing) to sound comforting. "He's just..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say. Instead, he sighed and got into the driver's seat of the car.
The kids began to crawl one by one back into the vents as Scrooge and Mrs Beasley walked into the garage.
"The worst thing about it is the little nose-punchers remind of myself at that age. Cunning, charming, resourceful-"
"Do you remember why you hired me, Mr McDuff?" Mrs Beasley asked.
"Of course I... Don't." Scrooge answered.
"You hired me as your housekeeper once you adopted Launchpad." Mrs Beasley replied. "I was homeless and my offer was you let me live at the mansion and I worked for free."
"And a bang up job you're doing too, Mrs Beasley."
"You were there for me when my daughter died. You let me take my baby granddaughter in. You let her live here."
"Why wouldn't I? I already had a clumsy teenager living here." Scrooge said. "Who's now a clumsy adult."
Mrs Beasley opened the car door. "Don't give up on your nephews quite yet, Mr McDuff. They might end up... Surprising you."
On the way to the money bin, Launchpad was singing along to the radio-so far Hakuna Matata from The Lion King ('Hey, Mr McDee, wouldn't it be awesome to be a lion? I suppose I'd be a bird like Zazu-that way no more crash landings!') and Wheatus' Teenage Dirtbag. That one was particularly irritating as Scrooge was trying to read the newspaper and Launchpad's singing was flatter than... Launchpad's singing.
He was currently singing along to Bill Withers' Lean On Me as they were stuck in traffic.
Scrooge slammed his newspaper down. "Launchpad, do you think you could shut that racket up?" He snapped.
"Oh, sorry, Mr McDee." Launchpad said. "Should I change the channel?" His non-bandaged hand hovered over the tuning knob.
"No!" Scrooge blurted out. "No. Just... turn it off, Lad."
"Whatever you say, Mr McDee." Launchpad shrugged and put the radio off. "So... your nephews."
"Aye. What about them?" Scrooge asked.
"Do you know what they like?" Launchpad asked. "I mean, I want to get them something, since, you know, you mentioned that their parents left them and their uncle's in the Navy and all-"
"You pity them, yes." Scrooge said boredly.
"Yeah, kind of." Launchpad admitted. "I was thinking of getting them the new Whiffle Boy game, but then I realised do they even like Whiffle Boy? What do they like? I just met the kids. I know Abby like the back of my hand, but-"
"EYES ON THE ROAD, McQUICK!" Scrooge shouted.
Launchpad grimaced and hastily drove away from the oncoming traffic, back into the lane he was supposed to be in. "Good thing we're both wearing seat belts, eh, Mr McDee?" He chuckled awkwardly and nervously.
"I'm not looking after you if you become a vegetable, Launchpad and I don't have any desire to become one myself-think of the money it would cost me. Keep your eyes on the road." Scrooge said sternly. He picked up his newspaper once again.
"Aye, aye, Mr McDee." Launchpad said. "Though I can't see what would be so bad about being a vegetable. Isn't it supposed to be helping the animals or something?"
"What?" Scrooge asked, still scanning the pages of his newspaper.
"Yeah, by not eating them in burgers and stuff and eating salads instead-"
"That's vegetarian, you dolt." Scrooge snapped.
"Oh." Launchpad nodded. "Then what-"
"Brain damaged." Scrooge said. "Though it would seem you're already there."
"Rule twenty-four-"
Dewey put his hand up. "Is this going to take much longer, Mrs Beasley?"
"Rule twenty-five; pay attention to the rules... Dewey." Mrs Beasley said coldly.
"Yeah, paying attention and all, but-"
"Rule twenty-six; keep your mouths shut when adults are talking."
Huey put his hand up. "Does that include-"
"That includes Launchpad." Mrs Beasley confirmed. "As being twenty-four makes him an adult. Albeit an air-headed adult."
"Air headed." Louie sniggered. "I see what you did there."
"I wasn't joking." Mrs Beasley.
"Right..." Dewey nodded slowly. "But uh, can we go?"
"No." Mrs Beasley answered. "There are much more rules to get through. Rule twenty-seven-"
"Well, here we are, Mr McDee, the money bin." Launchpad opened the driver door and stepped out, stumbling as he rushed to open the passenger door."
"Thank you, Launchpad." Scrooge said, dropping a cent into Launchpad's hand.
Launchpad examined it in his fingers. "Thanks, Mr McDee."
"I'm surprised you didn't crash this time, Lad." Scrooge admitted.
"Yeah, me too." Launchpad shrugged. "Oh well. Enjoy counting your money, Mr McDee."
As Scrooge walked inside, Launchpad got into the driver's seat and reversed, crashing into Scrooge's expensive car in the driveway.
Hearing the crunch of metal, Scrooge turned around quickly to see what had happened. His jaw dropped when he saw the back of the car Launchpad had been driving sandwiched with his expensive limo.
"Oh, there it is!" Launchpad said happily. "Bye, Mr McDee!" He waved out the window with his bandaged hand. The car jerked and stalled as Launchpad drove forward, but once he had pulled away from the limo wreckage, drove away perfectly.
Scrooge's secretary walked to the door to see what had happened. Seeing Launchpad drive away with half a car shocked her.
"Are you okay, Mr McDuff?" She asked.
"Physically, yes. I'm fine." Scrooge said.
"Can I do anything for you?" She asked.
"Please call the cheapest mechanic in Duckberg, Mrs Talkfaster." Scrooge was oddly calm.
The secretary, Mrs Talkfaster, simply nodded and disappeared back into the money bin.
Scrooge stood at the side of the road, staring at his crushed limo until his eye began to twitch with anger.
"LAUNCHPAD McQUICK!" He screamed out furiously.
A/N: A Human Ducktales fic with a mix of all three Duck universes-New!Ducktales, Original!Ducktales and Uncle Scrooge/Donald Duck comics. I'm trying to keep their human names as close to their Duck names as possible.
Based on an (my favourite) exchange in Treasure of the Golden Suns; "Donald, you can't be serious about this crazy idea-there's no profit in it!"
"But I've already enlisted, Uncle Scrooge. I want to see the world!"
"So? I'll buy you a globe."
Scrooge and kid!Launchpad. Okay. In the original!Ducktales, Scrooge did meet Launchpad after he ran away from home as a child because he thought his parents were ashamed of him. Ripcord and Birdie (Launchpad's parents names. Yes! Really!) tried to stop him, but he left anyway. He met Scrooge and became his pilot shortly after-and Scrooge took him on an adventure through the centre of the earth. Launchpad had to have either been a preteen or in his early teens as he was short, scrawny and his voice hadn't yet broken, which would place him probably in his early twenties at the start of original!Ducktales, given that he and his teenage sister Loopy (Yes! Really!) know each other.
It's highly unlikely that Scrooge would really break child labour laws, no matter how cheap he was. From Ducktales to the comics, Scrooge has a set of ethics and morals that he earns his money honestly-breaking child labour laws is not earning money honestly. And in the comics, he has sacrificed his goals in the name of honesty. For Scrooge, the end doesn't always justify the means.
It's probable that Launchpad got his proper pilot's license under Scrooge's employment. Unless he never did. But he's far too competent a pilot to not have a license, Flying McQuacks or not. As Scrooge was the only adult in his life for a while, it's possible that Scrooge took him under his wing (no pun intended) and looked after him (as cheaply as possible, minus some more money) until he came of age.
Also, Scrooge cares a lot about Launchpad in the Original!Ducktales; he was devastated and even crying when he thought Launchpad had died (this happened more than once), he calls Launchpad 'Lad', a pet name usually reserved for Huey, Dewey and Louie (and to an extent, Donald), refers to him on several occasions as his 'friend' and he keeps hiring Launchpad, even after all them crashes. It's not always because he'll work for free. He cares.
In the Original!Ducktales, Mrs Beakley was indeed living with her granddaughter Webby and said she would work for free if Scrooge could take her and Webby into his mansion. Scrooge agreed. It's never said what happened to Webby's parents and Mrs Beakley's daughter (Webby's last name is Vanderquack, so it's likely Beakley's daughter), so I said they died. I also said it was because of Launchpad that Scrooge hired Mrs Beakley, whereas in the original!Ducktales, he hired her because of the triplets. I was going by new!Ducktales where Beakley had been there for longer.
Also, as they're now human, Launchpad gets injured a lot, though still has an uncanny ability to survive plane wrecks. His own, of course.
If you were wondering what they looked like, Scrooge is wearing from the comics and new!Ducktales, as are the triplets and Mrs Beakley. Webby and Launchpad are dressed in the original!Ducktales and Donald's wearing his comic clothes. Mrs Beakley is black and Webby is mixed race.
See if you can catch all the Easter eggs and references!