Iva Crackshell had instantly known something was amiss the moment she heard the door slam. It wasn't the first time her son had done it, in fact, Fenton had a longstanding history of making a ruckus at every turn. Yet, call it a mother's intuition or just an encyclopedic knowledge of tropes from all her years of watching television… But Iva knew something was wrong.

"Fenton, is that you?" There was no response, so she continued. "You know I don't like it when you go slamming doors- makes it hard to hear anything!" Still the older woman was greeted by silence and that seemed to just make the feeling grow all the worse. Pushing the mute button on her remote, and focusing on hearing through the darkness of the trailer, Mrs. Crackshell got up from the couch as she trudged her way to the entrance of her small home.

And there, sitting on the floor with his back against the door, was her son. Iva crossed her arms against her chest and she raised a brow at the bags seemingly forgotten by his sides.

"Fenton, what are you doing home? Weren't you goin' on earlier about some date?" At least she thought she remembered something about that. For all she knew she was mixing reality with a plot to one of her soap operas. She went on, walking the remaining way before picking up one of the plastic bags. Oh, food. Good. It looked like she was going to have herself a snack.

Before she could open up the black box, Mrs. Crackshell's plans were immediately put on pause as her son threw himself at her feet.

"Oh M'ma! I've done it, I've really done it this time! I'm a monster, a cad!"

Great, Fenton was crying now. It was going to be one of those nights, she guessed. Sighing with exhaustion, the woman glared down at her son.

"Alright, what did you do THIS time?"

The pitiful expression on the middle aged duck's face grew in intensity as he hid his face from shame.

"EVERYTHING, M'ma! I thought- and then they- OH, I'M JUST THE WORSE!"

"Yeah, okay, but what did you DO?" Iva was growing tired of this. There was only so much of his dramatics she could take. Her eyes opened wide in alarm as the next thing she knew, her son was grabbing her by the collar of her robe and shouting in her face.

" I kissed him! I KISSED SCROOGE MCDUCK!"

Woah, now talk about a plot twist.

"Say that again?" Iva put her finger in her ear as she attempted to clean it. "I think I heard ya wrong, Fenton."

"Don't make me say it again, I JUST CAN'T!"

So she had heard him right, after all. This caused her to gawk all the more.

"Now why in the world would ya go and do a thing like that?"

"Because I thought we were having a moment!"

Fenton buried his face into the crevice of his mother's neck as he began bawling again. His chest heaved violently as he shuddered, his arms wrapped tightly around the woman as he squeezed the very life out of her.

Mrs. Crackshell was lost for words as she attempted to sooth her son.

"Fenton…" She patted his back awkwardly. "C'mon now, this is getting ridiculous." Still she went ignored, and the accountant just hugged her even tighter. Iva gasped for breath as her soothing hand turned to a fist as she frantically began pounding on his back. "Fenton, let go! I CAN'T BREATHE!"

This was enough to cause the middle aged mallard to jump back, nearly stumbling in alarm as he looked all the more pained at what he had done.

"SEE! I can't even get a hug without taking advantage of people! M'ma, what's wrong with me?!"

"You like to choke people, that's a start." Mrs. Crackshell sighed, grabbing her son by the arm as she led him towards the kitchen table. "Come on, sit down. I got a feeling this is gonna take a while."

While Fenton made a thud as he plopped into the wooden chair, his mother went to the drying rack and took out a fork. Taking a seat, she smiled as she opened one of the boxes her son brought home. Say, cake! And chocolate, too. Taking a bite, she chewed as she waited for Fenton to tell her what was going on.

The accountant slouched in his chair as his bill planted itself against the table. He let out a pathetic whimper.

"I really blew it this time. I knew Mister McDuck was against the idea of dating me. He told me so, himself! But did I listen? Noooo! Instead I thought I could change his mind!"

Iva rolled her eyes. It wasn't the first time Fenton took on unrealistic pursuits. She still couldn't believe the multi-billionaire had hired hired him in the first place. She took another bite as the other duck carried on.

"But he… he really looked like he was enjoying himself, ya know? Sure, maybe not at first. But, oh M'ma, it had been so romantic! Alone at the park, just the two of us. Moon a-glow as Scroogey was telling me about his adventures- it felt so RIGHT!"

"I still don't see why ya had the bright idea to kiss 'im. Or asked him out. Weren't you just crying about Gandra breaking your heart, or something? When did you become a geezer chaser?"

Fenton glared.

"Don'tcha pay attention to ANYTHING I do? I've been trying t'woo Scrooge all week!"

Mrs. Crackshell merely shrugged.

"My shows were on. Besides, I don't see what the big deal is. So McDuck doesn't like men, big whoop. If that's what you're into now, just go find yourself another grandpa."

"I don't care about that!" He paused. "W-well, okay, sure I care about that. But that's not what I'm talkin' about! I HURT him, M'ma! I VIOLATED HIS TRUST! He was right to say I was selfish- because it's true! I only thought about how I was feeling!"

Fenton buried himself deeper into his hands as his face was now completely hidden. His voice grew quieter as he sniffed.

"He was just saying so many nice things about me that I got lost in his words. He made me feel like I had VALUE. Not even Gandra ever said I was worth having around…" Red and puffy from his crying, Fenton looked up and and searched his mother's eyes desperately. "It's okay if he doesn't love me back. I knew that was a long shot. But I… The thought of him DESPISING me hurts even worse! What am I gonna do, M'ma?"

Suddenly chocolate cake didn't seem as appetizing as it did just a moment before, especially with her Fenton going back to unintelligible blubbering. Swallowing what was in her mouth, Iva took a deep breath as she tried to figure out what to say.

"You… You really DO like him, don't you?" She didn't need him to answer, she could see it clearly just by looking at him. Getting up from the table, Mrs. Crackshell placed a hand on her son's shoulder before giving it a squeeze.

"Look, crying ain't gonna solve anything. McDuck has been mad at you before, he always gets over it. You're too valuable to him, remember? Let him sleep it off, then go beg him not to can ya in the morning. It's gonna be fine."

No matter how hard Fenton tried he couldn't make himself believe her.