"You Drive Me Crazy"
By Moonie and Snark
Disclaimer: The authors do NOT own Darkwing Duck or its characters. They also don't own Jello. Well, Snark currently owns lots of jiggly jello treats, but the disclaimer means to say they don't trademark it. The disclaimer is saddened by this. If you like, leave a comment. If you hate, leave a comment. If you've ever questioned your sexuality...leave me your number. RAWR!
And a big ol' "thank you" to our beta: Celey!
Chapter Two:
"Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy"
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"To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world."
~ Brandi Snyder
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Saint Canard: one of the finest cities around. It was known for its colorful lifestyle, its classy music, its-
"Meeeeegsy, I'm booooooored!"
And its crazy crime waves.
Quackerjack, the mad mallard of mischief and fun, had been standing around for awhile. At one point, while his rodent partner-in-crime was busy focused on trying to unlock the safe, Quacky had taken out a paddleball to amuse himself. But even that lost its charms after awhile.
Negaduck, the leader of the Fearsome Five, had sent out his underlings to cause some distractions while he had some bigger plan in store. The Lyceum nycanthropus and the sinuous sinister of a salesman had went off to one side of the town to terrorize a church. All the while, Megavolt and himself had decided to rob a place or two.
"Ya know, now, I'm starting to wish we had went to the church instead. It's not fair! Ol' Drippy and Melonhead must be having a million times more fun right now!"
Megavolt growled low in frustration and whipped around to face the jester, "Would you be QUIET? This takes total concentration and silence!"
Quackerjack crossed his arms, a pout forming on his beak. Megs knew the newly acquired silence wouldn't last for long, so he took advantage of it and went back to work trying to open the stubborn safe. He was using an old stethoscope to listen to the tumblers as he turned the dial this way and that. An old and poor method, but he wouldn't be forced to stoop to such lows if he still had his trusty tron-splitter. So far, he'd only managed to figure out two numbers.
The jester's foot patted the floor in impatience. He waited what seemed like forever, which in all actuality was only five minutes. Quackerjack suddenly tugged on his hat in frustration. The bells gave off an aggravated jingle.
"Ooooh, I can't stand it anymore! I'm gonna go mad, I tell ya, mad!"
He stopped for a moment and thought it over.
"Well...heh, at least crazier than I am now. Haha!"
There was a dull 'thud' as Megavolt took off the stethoscope and threw it down onto the wooden floor of the bank. He turned back to his partner in crime, ready to give him another berating, but the look of pure misery on the jester's mug made him stop and actually feel bad for the poor guy. The rodent took a deep breath and sighed, swallowing his frustration.
"Look, uh, Quacky. Why don't you, uh..." he scanned the dark room for something Quackerjack could possibly do. Seeing nothing of interest, he shrugged, "I dunno, talk about something NOT related to being bored."
Quackerjack's eyes widened on hearing this suggestion. It was... It was...
"Megsy, that's brilliant! DUH! Why didn't I think of that before?" He laughed at himself, before taking a moment to think of a topic. "Heh. So... Why does the mole on your butt look like Abe Linc-?"
"Anything BUT that!"
"Oh, fine. Party pooper. So, what the heck AM I supposed to talk about?"
Before the rodent could respond, the toymaker had pulled out his trusty friend, Mr. Bananabrain, from behind his back.
"How about the fact your birthday is on its way, May?"
Quackerjack's eyes widened yet again. A look of shock crossed his face. He slapped his forehead.
"Holy kidnapping children at the park, Mr. Bananabrain! Le gasp! How could I have forgot?"
Megavolt smiled as he heard another tumbler fall into place, putting him into a slightly better mood. Why, by this rate, he'd have this baby open by morning! His aching back suggested it'd better be sooner than THAT. Sitting up straighter on his knees, the rodent placed his hands on the small of his back and pressed until it cracked.
"Ahh. Much better," he sighed. He turned, facing Quackerjack and rearranged himself so he was sitting indian style. "Your birthday, huh? When's that?" he asked, looking between the jester and his doll, not sure who would answer. He never was sure.
It looked like the clown was going to answer, when Mr. Bananabrain cut him off.
"It's the seventh of June, Loon. Maybe this year, he'll finally grow up!"
"Heeeey. I'll have ya know that THIS duck is staying a tater-tot forever in Never Neverland! Heh."
Megs gave a single nod to the banana doll, "Thanks." He looked back at Quacky. "June seventh? Let's see, that's in... uh, what's today's date again?" he asked, taking off the listening device and fiddling with it.
"It's in three days, Megsinator." Quackerjack smirked suggestively, "Heh. Think you can pop out of a cake for me with a nice, pretty ribbon covering your package?"
A look of surprise came over Megs' face, and he tried to picture that, only to end up shaking his head. "Probably not. Not only are the chances of me surviving being baked into a cake incredibly low, but I'm pretty sure my popping out of something would be hindered if I were holding your birthday package at the same time," he explained. "But I'll see what I can do about the ribbon," he added quickly, as to not completely shatter his friend's hopes, "You're kinda weird, Quacky."
"Heh. Ya can't blame a guy for trying. Besides, buddy, I don't expect ya to remember my birthday anyway. I know how your memory is..."
Quackerjack was a little saddened by that thought before his mind went to much cheerful things.
"Oooooo, but the cake will be delicious! I'm gonna go down to that fancy shmancy bakery on Maine Street, and steal me one of their princess cakes. It's the kind where the poofy part of the dress is the cake, and a doll is sticking out of it and is the rest of the lady. Heh. It's gonna be nice and purple. Oh! And it's angel food cake. Heh. I LOVE that stuff. It's so nice and squishy and soft as a sponge!"
Megavolt sat there, listening intently to his friend's delighted chatter. He was about to stick up for his memory, but then, he realized he had forgotten why exactly they were there to begin with... He had a stethoscope. Had they been playing doctor? He decided against bringing up his memory. What DID catch Megavolt's attention was the cake Quacky had described. A purple princess cake that tasted like sponges? Well, that sounded... He watched Quacky's actions as he continued to chatter on and on about his plans in three days. The rodent had never noticed how... flamboyant the jester was before. Megavolt's mouth decided to ask the question before his brain had a chance to say no.
"Quacky, are you g-" he caught himself in time and loudly cleared his throat to cut off his own words. That was NOT okay to ask. What business was it of his? Why should he care? It did not concern him in any way. But the jester was still looking at him, his brow raised, waiting for him to finish.
"... Gee, you getting tired of this place, too? I kind of forgot why we're here. Can we go home yet?"
Megavolt's question caused Quackerjack to stop his happy talk of birthday plans. He began to glare. Not because of his friend. Oh no, he was just aggravated that they STILL weren't done yet. All this work over some money? Sheesh! They should be out playing and having a merry time, not waiting around doing nothing. Feeling fed up, the mad mallard pushed the rodent out of the way and pulled out a large mallet. With a sadistic smile, he began beating the safe with all his might.
"One, two, one, two! Huff... Through and through!"
Every time the heavy mallet came down upon the safe, Megavolt flinched. He inwardly scolded himself for it, but he couldn't help it. There was no way the crazy clown was going to get into the safe THAT way, but one of the few things the brain-fried genius DID remember is that there was no use in trying to convince Quackerjack of much of anything when he was set on a task. So, Megavolt sat and watched, bored, and waited for the duck to get tired and give up. Suddenly, there was loud CLANG as the door to the badly beaten safe fell off its hinges and onto the floor. Megavolt bolted upright in shock, and Quackerjack clasped his hands together in a rather effeminate congratulatory victory gesture. He bounced up and down a few times. Megavolt stared in awe and disbelief. It suddenly occurred to him how strong the mallard must be to do something like that. Geez! It was a good thing Quacky was on HIS side. Even WITH his electrifying powers, he had a feeling if he got on the clown's bad side, he could easily hold him down and... hurt... him. The rodent buried his face in his hands and whimpered as he realized it wasn't being hurt he was thinking of. Oh, the things sleep deprivation could do to an already frazzled mind! He was glad it was finally time to grab the cash and go home.
"And THAT'S how ya open up a safe! Hahaha!" The devious toymaker giggled, "Heh, actually...that was fun after all! We shoulda done that to begin with!"
He looked over at his pal and smiled. The duck put all the loot into a bag. Throwing the mallet to the side, Quackerjack skipped over to the rodent and locked arms with him.
"Ready to escort the lovely lady outta here, gentle sir? Heh."
Megavolt grinned, "Nice going, Quacky! You really did a number on that safe... wait, lady?" He looked around in panic, wondering if they had a visitor. Then, he realized Quackerjack was talking about himself and wondered again about his friend's sexual orientation. Shrugging it off as a joker joking, Megs pointed to the door of the bank with his free arm and said, "This way lies home, m'lady! Onward! Aheh!" And out the door the two villains strode, both glad to be out of there and heading home.
Quackerjack was humming a joyful, if not slightly random and off-key, tune as they made their way down the street. It was merely background noise to Megavolt, who was deep in thought.
'June seventh... Don't forget, Megavolt! June seventh. I need to come up with a present fast...'
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END OF CHAPTER TWO
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AN:
Moonie: Gee, those two sure are oblivious to each other's and their own feelings for each other! I can't imagine anyone being like that in REAL life.
Snark: Why do I get the feeling this is basically the fanfic version of what happened to us?
Moonie: ... I don't remember any gay pillow fights. Or smashing things with mallets, either.
Snark: How many times must I tell you? It was a MANLY pillow fight! Now STFU, and go in the kitchen and make me a sammich...Love yoooooou. 3
Moonie: Oookie dokie. But if you send me to the kitchen, I'm bringing back soup.
Snark: Er...how about we go back to the gay? The gay is safe, and doesn't taste awful. Damn evil soup!
Moonie: LOL. Okay. Does gay taste like skittles? Gasp! Skittles soup! ..Do we have to do a disclaimer for Skittles now?
Snark: Naaaaah. We'll let the legal team handle it. besides, that'll be our second Skittles reference. except "vomit" sounds tastier than "Soup"
Moonie: Looks about the same, though. Are author's notes supposed to be about the story? Oops. My bad.
Snark: Oh...right, that's what we were doing. let's speed this up so we can get to the lesbian joke. "Blah blah blah. gay. perverted. yet more lack of DW. gay gay. Darth Vader is my b*tch...and gaaaaay"
Moonie: Did we cover everything then?
Snark: I think we covered up TOO much! It's hard to see your nipples from here!
Moonie: ..That's not what I meant, Snarkieboo. Oh well, let's get this uncovered then!
SnarK: Hehe. oooooh yeeeah. for now, that's all folks!