An Author's Note: Wow…got through two chapters without one of these…I'm getting better.
Anyway, a bit of warning, since all we get in the series of Quackerjack's past is that he was A) Bankrupt by Whiffle Boy and that he is B) Totally out of his gourd. That's a lot less character development then the other three get. Therefore, in making a back story for Nega-Quackerjack I had to do what everyone who has read my work either loves or dreads. I made stuff up. And yes, there are OCs. I do that a lot…but you probably noticed that.
Oh, and I don't own Darkwing duck or the Negaverse. Or the other Negaverse, for that matter.
Anyway, enjoy.
Quackerjack
Negaduck glared outside the window of the home he had bought, glaring down the street with an expression that promised doom for someone. He had bought the house for only one purpose, to hide the secret entrance to his new hideout, the tower. He had grown tired of living in the hideouts of his various gangs, and he now ran them from his new base hidden in the Audubon Bay Bridge. However, he also needed a place where no one, not even his gang members, could find him. He knew that loser Megavolt was after him, and if by chance Megavolt learned of the Audubon hideout then Negaduck would still have a place to hide and run to ground. No one would think to look for the evil crime lord Negaduck in this peaceful neighborhood.
Unfortunately he also had to deal with the inconveniences of said neighborhood. Oh, the Muddlefoots next door were okay. He had seen their little skeletons in the closet a long time ago, through various spying methods. They were the kind of neighbor that normal people would hate, with their secret love of destruction and terror. No, it was not the Muddlefoots that were the problem.
It was that damn clown.
It seemed that every damn kid on the block was having a birthday this month, and they always hired the Damn Clown; a clown that, in Negaduck's opinion, shouldn't exist, especially considering where he was from.
Negaduck's eyes drifted to an old newspaper. He had dug the thing out of storage, in order to remind himself. The headline was simple: Toy Tycoon Dies in Fatal Heart Attack. It made Negaduck feel a bit better, but only a bit. He didn't like loose ends, and that clown was a loose end.
He grinned when he remembered how he offed that "toy tycoon". William Quacker Sr had run the Quackerjack Toys Company for a long time, and while he was reportedly honest and hardworking, something that most businessmen were not famous for, he still had his enemies. One of those enemies, Negaduck didn't know or care which, had decided that Quacker was in the way. So Negaduck had been hired to kill him. Rather than the usual explosive methods that he preferred, Negaduck did the employer a favor and slipped a drug into Quacker's iced tea. He had suffered a fatal heart attack in his office. Negaduck had cashed in, and for a year had forgot about the killing, just another in a long line of murders.
Now, however, the clown was annoying him, and Negaduck decided to investigate, purely because watching that imbecile caper and entertain kids was pissing Negaduck off. He had seen the large, cartoonish logo of that dratted toy company plastered on the brightly colored (offensively colored) clown van that moron drove. Investigation had led Negaduck to discover that, after the father's death, Quacker's eldest son Robert had taken over the company, and had even signed a contract with Whiffle Boy Industries, who mad that dumb video game. While WBI made the games, Quackerjack Toys made the tie in stuffed animals, action figures, and playing card game. A year later Quackerjack toys was just as big as it had been in Negaduck's youth, and WBI was rising right beside it.
It made Negaduck furious. When he killed someone and tore their family apart they needed to stay torn! What was worse, he had found out the identity of that clown that plagued him. William Quacker Jr. the younger son.
Negaduck hated him with almost as much passion as he hated Megavolt. Not only did the moron presume to trot about Negaduck's street and spread annoying sparkly laughing happiness to people, but he did it for absolutely nothing! The knob was the last heir to a well known toy dynasty, and he chose to tramp around the streets entertaining snotty nosed brats, for nothing! Oh yes, Negaduck had investigated thoroughly, and found that it was very easy to hire this clown, and the price was ridiculously cheap. He had even been told that the clown didn't do it for profit, but for fun! Because, apparently, he really liked kids and liked to make them happy.
Negaduck would just have to fix that. He would have to fix it permanently. He grinned down at another paper, yesterdays to be exact: New Toy Museum to Open Saturday. The article had gone on to tell who, exactly, was opening that museum, a museum dedicated to showcasing the history of toys. There would be toys everywhere, from the oldest primitive cave duck straw dollies to the high tech modern robots. And, best of all, the museum had been built by the Quacker brothers. Negaduck could even confirm that the younger duck in the newspaper photo was his annoying clown. It was the buck teeth that gave it away. You never saw teeth that huge. He had to be some sort of idiot. Hell, he could blind people with those, if Negaduck was right.
Negaduck smiled. Tomorrow would be the day. Soon that clown would be no more. He might have been able to bounce back from personal tragedy, but there was no bouncing back from a bullet to the head.
William Quacker, known as Billy by everyone save his older brother, was currently standing on his head, juggled seven brightly colored orange balls with his feet and hands. His head hurt, but he didn't really care. He was too busy focusing on the happy cheers of his audience, who loved it. Five minutes ago these kids were whining about clown acts being dull, but Billy had, with a few tricks and a very winning personality had turned all that around. It was one of his greatest gifts, that and the ability to build just about anything from a few nuts and bolts, as long as that thing was a toy of some sort.
And by the way, Billy, you have only ten more minutes.
Oh shut up, Boss.
Do you really want to disappoint Bobby?
Look at em laugh!
I see, you have nine minutes.
Lemmie finish!
Hurry, Billy.
Yeah. Yeah.
Billy flicked a switch on each of the balls as they came down, and instantly they started to spew fire from several holes. The crowd of children ooed and aahed while the parents shifted about in a nervous manner. But it was alright. Billy had designed the balls, and he knew where to place his hands and feet so he wasn't hurt. Plus, he had thought to put on a pair of flame retardant gloves and shoes. As long as he didn't do this for long he was fine.
For five more minutes he juggled in various patterns, patterns that, had he not practiced, would have tied his arms and legs into knots. And wouldn't that be funny?
Hilarious. Now finish!
You're no fun, Headboss.
Deciding to comply with "Headboss" Billy tossed all his fireballs into the air. He leaped up to his feet and pulled out a water gun from…somewhere, and as the fireballs came down towards his head he nailed each on with water, putting them out.
Billy smiled at the cheers form the crowd, though the ones from the parents sounded more relived the children. Billy didn't mind. Adults really didn't understand him.
Looking past the fact that you are an adult.
You only have to grow old, not grow up.
Says the twenty two year old.
Please go away while I talk to the nice lady.
Oh fine.
"That was amazing! How do you do it?" The mother of the kid whose birthday this was, Billy had lost track of her name somewhere, approached him with a smile. Billy made sure to focus on her. He had learned that, for some reason, people liked you to look them in the eye. He had no idea why.
"Just a lot of practice." He looked down at the kids "None of you better try that! It takes a lot of training!"
"I want a ball like that!" The birthday boy pointed at one of Billy's inventions. His mother looked horrified.
"Ah. Um." Billy hesitated "I need this one, but I got something better that you can have, but only because it's your birthday!" Billy edged towards a bag near the fence and pulled out a clear ball, similar to the one he owned. He hit a switch and the ball began to flash in multicolors. When Billy placed it on the ground it bounced all of its own accord. Instantly the child's eyes lit up and he chased the ball, forgetting about its more dangerous cousins.
The mother smiled at Billy as the children ran after the ball "Are you sure he can have that?"
"Of course! It is his birthday, right?" Billy said. Although no doubt Bobby would say things to the board of directors about good pr and other stuff that Billy didn't understand, the real reason Billy did it was to see the kid happy. Billy loved his dangerous toys. He loved making things that fired missiles and guns and that lit on fire. It was like a nervous tic he couldn't control. But as much as he loved to invent weapons, for that was what many of his toys really were, he liked children more. And, despite what some would think, Billy knew the difference between a children's toy, and his deadly toys.
After receiving several grateful thanks from the mother, as well as a slice of the birthday cake as a going away gift, Billy took his clown equipment and loaded up his offensively bright colored van and started back to the office. He had to go to one of those dull meetings again. Bobby insisted.
And that meeting starts in ten minutes. You better hurry.
What are you, Headboss, my timekeeper?
Might as well be.
Why do I talk to you?
You're nuts, Billy.
No I'm not.
You're talking to a voice in your head.
No, I'm not.
And he wasn't. Not really. There was no "voice". Not really a "Headboss". It was just the way Billy's mind worked. It was just his thoughts that, for some reason, chose to manifest themselves in an internal dialogue.
First sign of madness is talking to yourself, Billy.
Yeah, but as long as I don't talk to you out loud I'm fine, and as long as you don't start telling me to do something really crazy. Like 'spill the blood of the innocent' or something like that.
You know no one else does this, Billy.
Oh shut up.
You didn't do this a year ago, before Father died.
"Would you shut up?" Billy screamed. It was a good thing he was in a car, or someone would have heard him.
See? What did I tell you…
Billy aggressively turned the radio on and listened to whatever music was on with the intensity of a drowning man paddling towards a life boat. He wasn't crazy. He wasn't.
Even if he was crazy, he wasn't dangerous. He was sure of it.
Robert Quacker tapped his foot gently as he gazed out his window, waiting to see that silly clown car his brother drove. If William had remembered to leave his birthday appointment on time then he should be here any minute. Robert sighed. His brother worried him a lot. He was, off. He had been off every since their father's death. Okay, so William had always been something of an eccentric. He was a toymaker, not just a designer. William's room had always been filled with little clockwork bears and stuffed dolls and little plastic racing cars. All of these were items he had built himself. William had built many original toys from scratch, and some of his designs, okay most of them, had been incorporated into the Quackerjack toy line.
Then their father had died. While Robert struggled to maintain the company, William had gone…off. He started that clown thing, a thing that at first Robert thought of as a silly hobby, but now was starting to concern him. His concern increased when he found out that William's designs had now started to include blades in the toy bears and acid shooting out of the toy car windows. It worried him a lot. William said it was to get the "shadow man." The man that, William claimed, had been lurking around when their father died. William refused to accept the fact that their father had died of a heart attack, instead blaming it on this unseen specter. Robert humored him, if only because he felt so bad about the entire deal. They were basically orphans now, and Robert had no idea how to help William. He considered therapy, but that would mean admitting that William had gone insane.
Robert wasn't ready to admit that. After all, his brother was harmless. He designed weapons, but he was aware that they were weapons. He didn't use them to hurt anyone.
The older brother might have resembled an older version of William, save for the buck teeth that Robert lacked, but the two of them were almost the exact opposite in demeanor. While William had a tendency to lean towards almost euphoric unexplained happiness that might be described as mania, and then suddenly swinging towards anger and downright childish behavior, Robert was completely the opposite. He was overall calm as a rule, and wasn't prone to silliness. He was determined to be the steady one in the family, since his brother didn't seem inclined to be serious for ten measly minutes. He knew that sometimes when he talked to William he came off as condescending and patronizing, but how in the world was a man supposed to respond when his sibling dressed like a jester, and did that all the time. There were times that Robert had to physically restrain William from wearing that bell hat outside in public.
It was rather frustrating.
Robert smiled as he saw the clown car pull up to the drive. His brother was on time. Perhaps the worst was over, and William was starting to get serious. He hoped so. What kind of life was that of a clown? Robert just didn't understand his brother in this regard.
He frowned however, when William came in a few moments later, still dressed in that silly jester outfit. Dangly bell toped hat and all.
"William." Robert said gently. "What have you forgotten?"
"Huh? Oh!" William smiled, showing all of his teeth as usual. He sort of…skipped over to the side bathroom, that, after a few incidents, Robert had finally converted into a sort of changing room for when his brother forgot to take off his costume. This happened a lot, and it scared Robert to no end. He was almost convinced that, if his brother forgot to take off that costume for too long then it wouldn't be a costume anymore. William would really be a clown.
William emerged from the bathroom wearing a suit, something that Robert knew he hated. He knew that William only did it to make him happy.
"Bobby." William whined "Why do I even have to go to this meeting! I never really get to say anything, and its soooo boring!"
"William, this isn't just my company, it's yours as well. You need to be more involved in it."
"I am involved!"
"I mean involved in things other than just dressing up as a clown and entertaining children." Robert said through gritted teeth. "You need to be more responsible."
William moaned and pouted for a bit, as Robert knew he would. It was the same pattern every time they did this. A part of Robert knew that it would be easier to just stick his brother in the nearest mental facility and just dive off. He had enough money to pay whatever bills might be involved. It would make life so much easier for him. He wouldn't have to constantly worry about those weapons that William was building, and he wouldn't have to worry about his brother embarrassing him. Who knew what the press would think of those exploding jawbreakers? He wouldn't have to constantly wonder when William would finally crack once and for all. Still, Robert knew that he could not do that. William was his brother, and he couldn't betray him like that, even if it would be far more convenient.
"Now, I'll let you have that notebook of yours, but you have to promise me not to make paper airplanes or boats or octopi."
"It was an origami squid! It was cute!" William objected.
"No paper origami, William." Robert said with infinite patience. "Promise." Robert folded his arms and stared at his brother, who wouldn't, or couldn't, meet his eyes.
"Oh alright." William grumbled, rocking back and forth on his feet. He could never seem to sit still.
Robert nodded, satisfied that his brother would keep his word. Though William could be very erratic and strange, he usually kept his promises. Robert led his brother out of the office and started to head down the hall, hoping that there would be no incident this time. That old bat Weatherworth was supposedly not out of the hospital yet after that incident with the origami squid. Robert had very nearly strangled William after that little scene. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that William hadn't meant any real harm. He just got easily bored. That was why Robert was letting him have his idea notebook. Hopefully William would start to draw toy concepts instead of making strange tentacled beasts out of the stationary.
"Hey, I want to show you something later. At the cave." William bounced over beside his brother. Robert sighed.
"Let's get through this before you do anything else to bring this company down on our heads." Robert hissed. "And stop bouncing! Try to pretend you have a little bit of dignity!"
"Bobby, that's mean." The pathetic look his brother gave him softened Robert's expression, but didn't do much for his exasperation. Or the migraine he was getting. Or the tired feeling in his bones. He was just so sick of this. Sick of all this.
"Just please behave. For me." Robert asked.
"I already promised you." It was rare that William looked serious these days, but for a brief moment he did. Robert nodded and walked into the conference room, hoping that William didn't bounce. For once the younger Quacker brother didn't bounce, though Robert had a feeling that he would have if he could.
But there wasn't time to think about that. Facing the huge table of stern faced old men and women always made Robert feel like a large child dressing up in Daddy's close and putting on an act. He felt sick, physically sick, being in this room. It didn't help that he always had to wonder when William would do something.
Robert took his place at the head of the table, his brother sitting beside him. Robert took a deep breath and began to talk about the stock reports.
Seven minutes of stock reports later, and Billy was about to go stark raving nuts. Or at least more nuts then he usually was. Knowing that Bobby would be disappointed if he made a scene, Billy took out his notebook and started to doodle. Hopefully anyone who saw him would think he was taking notes or something, and if he stayed nice and quiet he would be able to get out of this and go do something productive. His fingers practically itched with the need to build things.
Drawing his ideas was, if not as good as actual building, at least something for his nervous fingers to do. He began to stretch the first thing that came to mind…a bear! Who didn't like cuddly teddy bears! His mind raced. What could make this one special? They already had bears and dolls that would talk when you either pulled a string or squeezed their tummies. How about something a little more…interactive. Children were harder to impress these days. What if there was a way to program a robot bear that could follow simple commands, even to the point of doing tasks?
Billy's pen scribbled furiously as he designed the thing he was thinking of building. The robotics would have to be very advanced, but Billy knew that it was possible. His most recent invention was proof of that. The bear would have to be made of something sturdy, so the interior stuff would be protected. It wouldn't be very cuddly though. But the novelty of a toy robot bear that could play with a child instead of just sitting there would make up for that.
Wait what if it had nine inch long claws and fangs! Make them nice and sharp, sharp enough to bite through other metal! If you strengthened the arms and legs then you would have a super strong robot teddy bear that could fight a shadow figure that made Daddies go poof!
"Moving on the opening tomorrow…"
Billy finally looked up from his bear and paid some attention. The museum! Now that was interesting! It had been Billy's idea, brought on by the deal that his brother had signed with that Whiffle Boy. Billy didn't like video games. They weren't wholesome, good toys. They'd rot your brain, but Bobby had insisted that, in order to save their company, they had to sign that deal. What really annoyed Billy was that his brother had been right. Billy hated it when that happened.
So, a few weeks after the contract had been signed and Billy had finally come out of his room where he had retreated in an annoyed temper tantrum, he had a brilliant idea. He wanted to keep the old toys, or at least have someplace where the poor things wouldn't be forgotten. Somewhere where the old toys could be remembered and valued for what they were. Sure it was not as good as having them actually being played with by happy children, but it was at the very least a compromise. So, for the first time Billy had actually put forwards an idea for the company, and to his surprise everyone loved it. Even the Whiffle people loved it. What was even better was that Billy would get to go in his jester costume, representing Quackerjack Toys as their mascot; something that Billy knew his brother secretly hated, but couldn't really argue about. Okay, Whiffle Boy would be there as well, and Billy knew that he would have to play nice. But he could that. He knew how to place nice.
"There have been rumors." One of the older gentlemen near the head of the table said. Billy struggled to remember his name, but just couldn't. "I've heard that you've received threats from Negaduck himself. They say that he will attack tomorrow."
Billy watched his brother's spine stiffen like a board. He wondered if you put your ear next to his back when he did that, if you would hear one of those twanging noises. It was an interesting thought.
One of these days his back is going to snap right in half.
He's under a lot a pressure.
I know.
You don't help.
I know…
"I have received no such threats." Bobby said coldly "And even if I had, I'm not going to halt the grand opening of that museum, especially not for a petty crime lord with a bad taste in fashion." Not even Billy missed the eyes that slid his direction, as everyone thought of the old saying about the pot and kettle. Billy didn't let it bother him. What did they know?
"But I've heard that Negaduck is-"
"Negaduck." Robert hissed "Is a lunatic. A fool wearing a mask and cape, running around pretending he is some sort of supervillian from a comic book. He's not a threat, or even worth dwelling on. The only person worth less of our valuable time, gentleman, is that 'arch-enemy' of his. Megawatt or whatever he is called."
"Megavolt." Billy corrected.
For the first time, Bobby turned his gaze to his brother. "What?"
"The arch enemy. His name's Megavolt." Billy said.
Bobby inhaled. He had the same look that, years ago when they were small, had preceded either a fight or a pounding. Robert didn't usually hurt his brother, but there had been times when he was younger that Robert had been so frustrated by Billy that he had thrown a few punches. Billy ignored him. He usually did when his brother got that bloated puffer fish look on his bill.
"No consequence." Robert repeated "But, if it makes the rest of you feel better, I will request the city police to provide some extra security. I doubt that this 'Negaduck'" Robert rolled his eyes "Will have the courage to show himself. Now." Robert drew himself up with a firm look. "I think it's time to adjourn this meeting; unless someone wants to bring the activities of Bigwebfoot to our attention?"
The others chuckled and began to leave, a few of them pairing off to go do…whatever it was that businessmen do when they are not in boring meetings discussing things on little charts with the graphs and the pie things and the numbers. Billy had no idea what it was all for, though Bobby didn't seem to have any trouble with it at all.
You'd never survive without your brother, you know that right? You're only good for entertaining kids and making weapons. How perfectly pathetic.
Oh shut up.
You'd be out on the street, digging in garbage cans for food and sleeping in the park. You can't hold on to this company by yourself. You can barely make breakfast by yourself.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up." Billy muttered as he stared at the window across from him. It had a nice view of Audubon Bridge, as well as the bay. Billy barely noticed it.
"William? William!" A hand landed on Billy's shoulder, shocking him back to reality.
"Huh?" He looked up at Robert. "Oh, ummm. I was just thinking out loud. Sorry."
Robert was no longer wearing the puffer fish look. Now he was giving Billy a look that hurt much more than that. It was a look of worry and a bit of pity. Billy hated it. Every time Robert looked at him that way, as if there was something fundamentally wrong with Billy, it made Billy realize just how strange he was. How much he had changed. Robert had changed too, though it was more subtle. There was so much tension in his brother's body, and he was always tired when he came home. And now Billy noticed something else, the dark circles underneath his brother's eyes.
"Do you want to go home now, William?" Robert asked. He looked like he was going to drop on the ground right there.
Billy didn't usually stay at the office. He was most often found in his underground workshop or at home, playing with his toys. But now, seeing the drained look on Robert's face, he just couldn't do it. Not today.
"Is there anything I can do to help you, Bobby?" He said.
The shocked, pleased expression on his brother's face made Billy extremely happy. He didn't volunteer, but today he did, and he was not sorry it happened.
Something told him that tomorrow was going to be bad. Billy had a very bad feeling. He didn't say anything though. Bobby would never have listened to him anyway.
The rest of the day was spent filing, cataloging and running papers around for his brother. Billy hated it, but he did it. He had promised, and he would do it. It was a great relief, however, when quitting time came.
Billy followed his brother in his clown car, as he preferred to drive himself then let Bobby take him. Despite the fact that the brothers could have afforded drivers neither of them indulged in this. Billy because it didn't seem right to have someone else drive his beloved little clown car. Robert just thought it was silly to ask someone to do something that he could easily do himself. They didn't have any servants either, save for a cleaning lady that came every other day to dust the place and pick up Billy's toys. She was a big advocate of putting Billy in a mental hospital, but Robert still refused point blank.
Their home was big and old, a nice mansion on the outskirts of St. Canard. While it wasn't the McDuck mansion, it certainly was not a suburban home either.
"Come on! Let me show you what I made!" Billy said as he backflipped over to his brother, very excited. Robert shook his head, but then nodded.
"Fine fine. Let's go."
Billy jumped and clapped his hands, much to Robert's annoyance. Billy ignored him. Instead, he jumped and bounded to an area almost out of the range of their property, somewhere near the edge of the tree line.
A long time ago, when Billy was ten and Robert was fourteen, Billy had stumbled on a cave in the woods outside their property. It was technically part of a national forest, and Billy had usually used the forest as a place to play with his toys. He had found the cave when his Superpig action figure had been thrown in a hole by Billy himself, who was trying to get it to fly. Billy had naturally followed it down, and found the cave. After climbing back up and finding Robert, the two of them had explored the place. The cave system was large and spacey, and it went on under the national forest for several miles. It was pretty deep as well, the lower levels were so dark that you couldn't see in front of your face, and a few chambers had nastily crawly things like bugs and maggots and nasty things.
The biggest chamber was almost in the middle of the woods, and it was here that Billy and Robert had constructed a workshop there. Billy had become entranced with the place, and decided to make it his own personal hideout, and a place where he could build toys in private. It had taken a while for Billy to build his little paradise, but in the end he had gotten what he wanted. The hideout was fully furnished and ran on a series of generators. It had electricity; running water siphoned from an underground river, and even had a few bedrooms in the adjoining chambers.
Billy had laced the tunnels of the cave system with track run bumper cars, so that any entrance he found he could just ride to wherever he needed to go. Billy led his brother to one of these, a tunnel that was hidden in a stump.
After a brief and steady trip down to Billy's hideout, the two brothers had arrived. Billy leaped out of the car with a joyful shout, and Robert followed at a sedate pace.
"Lookie lookie!" Billy cartwheeled over to a large monkey doll, complete with cymbals and a little fez. It was a huge doll, almost twice as tall as Robert.
"That is pretty huge." Robert said, impressed.
"Watch this, Bobby!" Billy jumped back towards his brother and brought out a whistle. He blew it, and the things surged to life. It rumbled forwards, clashing its cymbals and walking forwards. Robert whistled, impressed.
"No windup. No physical activation. All just from a voice. Very well done, William."
"That's not all it can do! Bobo! Smash!" Billy pointed at a large block. Most of his décor in the hideout was toy themed.
Obeying his master, the ape lumbered over to the block. With hardly any effort at all, Bobo picked the block up with his cymbals and crushed the block. Robert stared at it with wide, terrified eyes.
"See! We can take him to the opening! If Negaduck does attack, then Bobo will take care of him! Isn't that great!"
Robert looked at Billy, horrified "William, no! That thing's a weapon, not a toy!"
Billy stomped his foot "I know it's a weapon! It's supposed to be a weapon! That's what we will need for Negaduck!"
"William, you don't actually think that Negaduck will attack! It's insane!"
"You never listen to me!" Billy whined. "Dad was murdered and you jus-"
Robert grabbed Billy by the front of his shirt and lifted him up. "Father had a heart attack. You need to stop pretending that he didn't! You are scaring me, William. I worry about you a lot."
"Why don't you ever listen to me!" Billy shouted angrily at his brother.
"Because the things you say make no sense!" Robert said. "Our father wasn't murdered, who would want to murder him? He was a good man, and no threat to anyone! You have to stop this, William. It's not healthy. I know you're hurt. So am I! But you keep doing these things. These weapons, the shadow person, the clown thing! Don't you see how close you are to being institutionalized! If anything were to happen to me…"
Billy's eyes widened. "You-you wouldn't leave me! I don't make you that angry, do I?"
Robert sighed. "William, I worry about you a lot."
"Please don't leave me!" Billy begged. "Please, I know I'm not good! I know, I know. But if you leave. I don't want you to go!" Though the words were that of a desperate child, Billy's tone was becoming increasingly angry.
"William, calm down." Robert said. "Just, slow down. I didn't mean it like that. Please, relax." Robert kept his voice calm and steady, and Billy's panic filled rage faded. Billy finally settled down, and Robert put a hand on his shoulder "I'm not going to abandon you. I won't let anyone take you away from me. It'll be alright. I promise."
Billy stared into his brother's eyes. "I don't want you to go."
"It's okay, it's okay..."
While his brother tried to comfort him, a strange, banana doll stared at them with emotionless, stuffed eyes.
He won't be here for long, Billy. What a mad little clown you are…
"Quackerjack Toys and Whiffle Boy Industries are proud to present the greatest duo in entertainment history! Quackerjack the clown and Whiffle Boy! In the flesh."
Billy tried to ignore the guy in the Whiffle Boy costume as he leaped onto the stage in full clown mode. He had wondered about the idea of using their great-grandfather's old stage name, the name he used for his toy company when he had founded it, but he didn't question Robert's idea. Besides, he was too busy enjoying himself.
"Heey kids!" Billy danced a bit on the stage, a big grin on his beak. "Whose ready for Plaaaaaaaaaaaaytime!"
A chorus of cheers met him, though logically he knew that more than half of them were probably for the Whiffledoof, he wasn't going to let that stop him from…well being Quackerjack. He knew now why his great grandpaw loved this old act of his. It was fun.
"Hey Wiffley! Catch!" As soon as the Whiffledork walked up Billy lobbed a banana at him. He didn't know why he did that. It just seemed right at the time.
For a second the actor dropped his own act and batted the banana away. "Control yourself." He hissed at Billy, forgetting that he had a microphone on and that every kid and adult could hear him.
Billy, who had not forgotten, grinned and stood on one hand. He snagged a huge plastic model of a game control off a table advertizing the Whiffle Boy products. "Gee, I thought you were the one with the controller, pal." The 'pal' was not said with any affection at all.
"Hahahaha, how else do you expect a clown to act, Whiffle Boy?" Robert came up and appeared to hug his brother with one arm. What he really was doing was giving Billy's arm a sharp squeeze, as if trying to get him to stay focused "It's all in good fun, right." Robert's eyes slid over to Billy, who felt the sudden urge to kill Whiffle Boy. He fought it down.
"Right, we're all friends here, right?" Billy said, and extended a hand to shake Whiffle Boy's. The moron took it, not even noticing the hidden zapper in Billy's hand until it shocked him. Billy fell down laughing as Whiffledip screeched a bit in pain.
You would expect the audience of Whiffle Boy loving kids to hate this, but perhaps there was something in Billy's acting that endeared him to them. They laughed, as they would have laughed at one of those Saturday morning cartoons with the anvils and the shotgun blasts that just made the toons black and smoky and the gravity defying feats.
Whiffle Boy reached for a toy version of his mallet from the game, and attempted to whack Billy with it. Billy bounced away, cackling like a madman. Though the kids liked it the adults were getting nervous. Something inside them thought that this clown was acting a bit too goofy. There was something off about him, and they didn't like it.
Seeing that the adults were getting edgy, Robert walked over to the podium set up in front of the entrance to the Toy Museum. Beside him were two banners, one for Whiffle Boy Industries and one for Quackerjack Toys. The entrance to the new museum was impressive. Marble statues of classic toys led up to a pair of colorfully colored doors. The entire museum was also marble, but the marble was also colored brightly and the place shone. It had an air of both museum sophistication and happy toyishness. It was beautiful. It was wonderful.
"Today we celebrate one of the oldest and most important professions in the world, and the most overlooked. Though science and technology are crucial for the advancement of everyone on Earth, and though art and music are essential for the betterment of the spirit, the art of making toys is also important. For what better purpose can one have then to bring joy into the hearts of our young…"
While Robert gave his speech, a speech that Billy personally loved, Billy was busy running around playing with Whiffle Boy. His counterpart was not so happy or pleased with Billy's antics.
"I loathe you with great intensity." The actor mouthed at him.
"The feeling is mutual." Billy was smiling. It was not a nice smile.
All of a sudden, without warning, a pair of small missiles hid the podium that they all were standing on. Robert, as if warned by some latent instinct, just managed to jump out of the way, and even though it had been years since their father had made them to that vaudeville act thing, Robert was still extremely acrobatic. He landed on one knee, a few feet away from the now ruined podium. Billy totally forgot about Whiffle boy and rushed to his brother's side.
"Hahahahahaha! Little more lively then you dipshit father, eh knob?" A figure on the roof of the one the buildings laughed. The figure leaped off the roof, using the Whiffle Boy banner to swing to the ground. "I'm going to have to fix that."
As soon as Negaduck showed his face, the crowd scattered, parents scooping up children and running to the safety of anywhere but here. Whiffle Boy fled, never looking back.
Robert got to his feet, his eyes alight with anger "So, you are Negaduck. Should I bring out the rest of the clowns to this circus? Maybe a few elephants and camels? A Tilt-a-Whirl?"
Negaduck laughed "Nice. Do you talk to your hired nutjob that way as well?" Negaduck pointed his missile launcher at Billy. "Oh, I forgot. You didn't hire him. You just let your little brother play dress up. What's the matter? Can't keep him in his cage?"
"Keep away from him." Robert snarled and jumped in front of his brother and charged. Negaduck, who had not expected a CEO to indulge in fisticuffs, dropped the missile launcher. He couldn't use it in close quarters. He was reaching for a gun strapped to his belt when Robert threw a punch at him. To Negaduck's surprise the man was actually holding his hands in front of his face, palms facing him, as if he actually knew what he was doing. Robert jabbed at Negaduck's face, forcing him to back up. Robert kept swinging, this time using a haymaker, which landed on Negaduck's beak. Blood flew into the air. Negaduck reeled back as the punch hit him, and then gasped as Robert hit him three more times.
Where the hell did this knob learn to fight? Negaduck thought as he rolled away. Apparently Robert did know what he was doing. That was annoying.
"Yes yes yes! Get em Bobby! It's plaaaaaaaaaaytime, Negaduck!" Billy rushed over, tossing several marbles at Negaduck, who at first laughed at the idiocy of this, until the marbles exploded, spreading smoke all around.
Negaduck used this to his advantage. He ran out the other end of the smoke. Circling around the wreckage of the podium he leaped and ended up on top of it, flanking the two brothers.
"Word to the wise, knobs. I hate clowns!" Negaduck finally got his pistol out. He aimed and fired two rounds straight at Billy's head.
Billy had just enough time to whirl around and stare down the barrel of the gun. He wondered briefly how much this was going to hurt, when he felt someone push him to the side. The first bullet whizzed between their heads, but the second…
Billy fell to the ground. He could see everything. The bullet seemed to slow as stuck his brother in the head and went straight through. Robert fell right beside Billy, and Billy could see the inside of his brother's brain.
Robert turned his head to Billy and whispered "Billy…Sorry."
"Robert…" Billy whispered, his voice couldn't seem to find itself.
He's gone.
No.
Yes.
NO.
Kill him.
Who?
Negaduck, kill him. He killed Bobby. Make him pay. Spill his blood. Negaduck is no innocent.
"Yes…boss."
"Ahahaha! Two down, one to go! How does it feel, clown? Happy that I killed your daddy and you big brother?"
"Ah…ahaha." Billy got up.
"What are laughing at?" Negaduck was enraged. People weren't supposed to laugh when he killed their brother right in front of their eyes!
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm gonna bury a hatchet in your head! Ahahahahahahaha!" Billy turned and lunged for Negaduck, who now was slightly freaked out.
"And they say I'm insane…" Negaduck grinned wickedly as the clown charged. He leaned down and picked up an iron bar and swung it. Billy, blinded by rage and the voice in his head, ran right into it. He fell again, and Negaduck swung again, breaking Billy's arm. As the crazed duck fell, Negaduck continued the assault, smashing his ribs, his shoulder, his leg. All the while Billy laughed, not able to help himself.
"STOP LAUGHING!"
Negaduck didn't understand. Billy wished he could stop. He couldn't. He just. He just. He couldn't.
Is this what the deep end feels like, Billy?
The bar finally stopped. Billy watched, detached and unemotional, as Negaduck leaned forwards and whispered in his ear.
"I don't think I care if you die now. Even if you live, you have no one. Your home is burning right now, by the way. So are your offices, and your factories. Your company is dead. I killed it, and there is nothing you can do. Who's going to take in a mad clown? Enjoy the streets, knob."
Negaduck reached into his suit and pulled out a remote with a large red button. He pressed it, and Billy heard an explosion. A random lucid thought told him it was the museum exploding.
The last thing he heard before falling unconscious was the sound of a dream falling to the ground in pieces.
You can't be Billy anymore.
I'm William.
No, he's dead. Just like Bobby. They both went poof. They're with Daddy.
Yes…Yes. With Daddy.
What's your name?
I'm Nobody.
Everyone has to be somebody.
Then I'm a clown.
You have a name?
I'm Quackerjack. Who are you?
I'm who you need me to be.
…you're Mr. Banana Brain.
As you wish, Quackerjack.
"How long has he been like this?"
"Ever since the attack. He won't let us take away the hat, or the puppet." The doctor sighed. "He's had a psychotic break. He thinks that banana puppet is real. He talks to it all the time. He also won't respond to his real name. You have to call him Quackerjack or you won't get anywhere with him."
"Any living relatives?"
"Not anymore. I can't keep him in the hospital. He's psychically fine, but we can't let him out in public. He could hurt someone."
"It's alright. I knew his father. We can take care of him…"
Deep inside Quackerjack knew the nice people at the St. Canard Asylum were trying to help him. He realized that. That didn't change the fact that they were wrong. Negaduck was out there, hurting people like he hurt Bobby and Daddy. That had to stop. Quackerjack wanted to stop him. He would, but the doctors wouldn't let him out. Apparently they thought he was a danger to himself, and a danger to others. That wasn't true; Quackerjack wasn't a danger to anyone, unless that someone was Negaduck.
He couldn't tell long he had been here. He had to admit that had been his own fault. He probably shouldn't have punched that one orderly, but he had tried to take Quackerjack's hat away. Ever since they let him keep the hat, but they had also used something odd in a syringe on him. It made him feel sleepy. He didn't like it.
He did know that the room he was currently locked in was intolerable. Oh yes it was nice enough. Very clean and bright, with a nice widow that let in a lot of sunlight. The problem was the bars. Quackerjack hated the bars and the fact that the door was big heavy and always locked. He hated the fact that he couldn't get out. He couldn't make any toys here. They wouldn't let him have anything more complicated than a spoon. Yes they had put him in a nice cage, but it was a cage nonetheless.
The mental institution was not really bad, save for the boredom it induced. There were no lobotomies or electroshock or primitive experiments. It was all very nice and controlled and aimed to help crazy people get past their crazy tendencies. Now, the facility itself was not the problem. The problem was that Negaduck was out there, and Quackerjack was stuck in here. He wouldn't have minded staying if Negaduck wasn't loose out there.
"Hey, you got a visitor." The orderly, not the one that Quackerjack had socked, thank goodness, poked his head in the little barred window on Quackerjack's cell door. Quackerjack just stared at him. What?
"I didn't invite anyone, did you Mr. Banana Brain?" Quackerjack asked the doll.
"No, I didn't."
"It's someone from the government." The orderly said. He had gotten used to Quackerjack talking to Mr. Banana Brain. After a while it stopped being scary and started to be a little endearing.
"Ohhh, government!" Quackerjack laughed as the man walked in. Quackerjack eyed the man up and down. He was a large rooster, wearing a white suit. Instead of a normal beak he had one made out of steel. It was odd, but very intimidating looking at the same time.
Quackerjack laughed again. "I thought you guys were supposed to be men in black?"
The agent smiled "I prefer white. The name's Agent Steelbeak. You're Quackerjack, right?"
Quackerjack stopped laughed for a bit, though he did keep grinning. "You're the first person to use my name."
Steelbeak smiled "Ah. Let's just say I like self made men."
Quackerjack smiled "Okay. What do you want?"
"Let's just say my agency has been watching you. You're a real madman, babe, but you might still be useful to us."
"Useful." Quackerjack's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, don't be that way." Steelbeak said as he watched Quackerjack's expression turn hostile. "You want to get rid of Negaduck. We want to get rid of Negaduck. We got the same goals. I can get you out of here, but you got to work for us."
"…You want my toys, don't you?"
Steelbeak's smile widened "They do have nice military applications." Steelbeak reached into his white coat and pulled out Quackerjack's old notebook and tossed it lightly to him. "I especially like the teddy bear."
Quackerjack took his notebook. He stared down at it, then back to Steelbeak. "What do you want from me?"
"I want the same thing you want. I want Negaduck off the streets."
"Sounds fun." Quackerjack laughed.
Quackerjack didn't know that it would be so easy to just walk out of an insane asylum. But, when you were working with the government, he guessed anything was easy. He just walked out, lead by Steelbeak and a few of his odd armored agents. They were called Eggmen, or something like that. Quackerjack thought they looked extremely funny.
However, by the time they reached the parking lot, Quackerjack was having second thoughts about this. There just something eerie about the Eggmen, and something really off about this Steelbeak. He smiled too much, and not for the right reasons. And here Quackerjack was, out in the open. No more orderlies with needles or concerned looking doctors.
Why would he want to go with these guys anyway? This wasn't right. It felt wrong. And Quackerjack was starting to listen to his feelings more and more.
"You know what, I changed my mind. Gotta go, bye." Quackerjack suddenly turned, shook Steelbeacks hand and bolted for the tree line. He expected to be followed, but when he turned to look back Steelbeak was just standing there, grinning at him.
Quackerjack laughed at him and dove for the trees. He didn't look back again.
"Are we really letting him go?" One of the Eggmen turned to Steelbeak, who kept a smile on his face.
"Yeah. He may not be officially working for us, but he'll still be doing our job. Why do you think I let Megavolt run around loose like that?" Steelbeak turned to his limo with a grin. "After all, it doesn't pay to all your Eggmen in on basket." Steelbeak laughed as he got in his limo. He'd have to watch Quackerjack from now on, but that was alright. He was good at watching.
The jewelry store was dark and abandoned, just what you would expect at midnight. Two figures slunk towards the big window display from across the street. One of them had a brick in his hand.
"Okay, we got five minutes, tops. Maybe less if that electric rat is around. Just grab and go."
The other robber nodded "Yeah, go!"
The brick flew through the window, and the two crooks leaped in and started to scoop up necklaces and rings and bracelets.
"Okay, let's run."
"Just a few more…"
"Ahahahahaha." Someone, not either of the robbers, laughed.
"Ummm, who was that?" The brick thrower asked.
"Robbing people? That's not playing nice." The voice said.
"Is it Megavolt?" One of the robbers asked in a frightened tone. He was scared of the rat, mostly because of the fact that the heard that Megavolt really did have powers. That was pretty scary.
"Hahahahaha, ah, no!"
The man that bounced into their view from where he had been hiding made the robbers laugh in derision. It was just a clown! Not an electrified superhero, but a clown! This was going to be easy.
"Hey boys, It's plaaaaaytime!" Quackerjack said with a goofy smile. He pulled out four clacking teeth and lobbed them at the criminals. The teeth snapped at the crooks, nipping at their arms and legs. One of them landed on the brick thrower's snout and clamped firmly on his nose. The crook howled and jumped around, trying to bat the teeth of his nose.
The other crook snarled and pulled out a baseball bat. He charged, swinging at Quackerjack. The jester back flipped out of the way and pulled out a hula hoop. He tossed it over the crook's head. The hoop swing the crook around at ludicrous speeds for a about five seconds. It was enough to make the crook fall to the ground, dizzy.
"Oh, and I thought I'd get more of a fight out of this." Quackerjack grinned at the two of them.
"What…what the hell?"
Quackerjack turned and grinned. "Ah! Megavolt." He leaped over to the rat, who drew his electricity gun. Megavolt had no idea who this strange duck was, but he wasn't going to take chances.
"Who do you work for, clown? Negaduck?" Megavolt never knew who worked for Negaduck and who didn't these days. He was getting a little on the paranoid side.
"What! I hate Negaduck! He doesn't play fair, does he Mr. Banana Brian?" Quackerjack pulled out the toy banana. Megavolt and the crooks stared at Quackerjack with similar terrified expressions. This was getting a bit strange.
"Ummm, okay." Megavolt backed away. He didn't think he wanted anything more to do with this crazed duck. He was convinced that this clown had nothing to do with Negaduck. Negaduck wasn't this off the wall.
"Hey, wait, you're in my occupation!" Quackerjack jumped back over to the retreating rat. Megavolt backed away even faster.
"What are you talking about, you loon?" Megavolt said as he edged towards the nearest telephone pole.
"You put away crooks, I put away crooks. Come on, we can have fun together!"
Megavolt finally realized what Quackerjack was talking about "Umm, thanks by no thanks. I work alone."
"Aww, come on, Mr. Banana Brain likes you!"
"Umm, yeah. Sorry, but…I like my space, you know?" Megavolt placed a hand on the telephone pole.
"Ahahahahaa, you mean like outer space?"
"Ummm, no. Space without you in it." Megavolt said. Especially not with you in it. He thought. He quickly scaled the telephone pole and skated away, never looking back.
Quackerjack stared as Megavolt fled. He shrugged. The sound of sirens filled the air as the police finally started to show up.
"Ah well, looks like playtime's over." Quackerjack shrugged and pulled out a pogo stick. He happily bounced away, leaving behind two very traumatized criminals in his wake.
A few blocks away a limo was parked. Steelbeak grinned at the screen in front of him. "Shame the two of them aren't working for us. Oh well. It's still nice seeing people cleaning up the streets."
"Agent Steelbeak. We need to you to help us investigate something."
"Ah." Steelbeak punched a button on the bottom of his monitor screen "What's up?"
"It's at the St. Canard University. Something about a mutant. A plant duck. Some sort of rampage."
"Ah, no rest for the weary. Alright." Steelbeak said as he snapped off the monitor. He nodded at his driver, who pulled out of the parking lot they were hovering in and started towards the university, where even now a terrified lab experiment was fleeing for his planty life.