The plan had seemed simple enough. The Fearsome Five were to wear their trench coats, walk into the Saint Canard Museum, replace the Mystic Saxophone with some regular ol' hunk of junk Quackerjack had procured- a place none of them decided they wanted to know, seeing as it smelled vaguely of pickle juice- and then they would just leave. And if they ran into any trouble, then it was also free admission day- which always meant that the place would be swarming with young students, their chaperones and their teachers- so they could just take a hostage or two and use them to leave the museum… nobody would be able to touch the villains. The plan had been simple, it had been perfect!
Or, at least, it would have been if the Fearsome Five even made it through the front door. In all honesty, it had been the biggest failure any of them had known to date- which was saying something, because they previously thought it was hard to top the time Bushroot had jumped straight into the backseat of a police car when he was trying to hide from Darkwing Duck. But no, they had topped it… and then some.
No one seemed to notice the small group of visitors, their seemingly magical trench coats protecting them from the public eye. In all honesty, most just pretended not to see- while being careful to keep their children away from the weirdos marching toward the building, single file.
Only four of them had been sporting trench coats; Megavolt had to settle for his dark red bathrobe. No one seemed interested in disputing this decision.
The crowd of people parted as they advanced, the entrance was in sight, and then it happened. Perhaps unaccustomed to wearing clothes, and perhaps more than slightly nervous, Bushroot had stepped on the low dragging hem of his trench coat. He stumbled forward, into Liquidator, who in turn stumbled into Megavolt, he into Quackerjack, Quackerjack into Negaduck. All five of them collapsed into a clumsy heap on the pavement.
This, of course, drew quite a bit of attention to them, and the sneaking was over, but so what? They were fearsome, they were powerful, and what they wanted, they made theirs. The coats were discarded, and the crowd gasped. A few screamed, and a few let out a sigh of relief that Megavolt had been wearing clothes under that robe.
However, no mayhem was wrought, for as the group marched their way towards the door they were interrupted by a familiar and equally awful blue smoke. Bushroot had known their plan was a bust the moment Darkwing Duck showed up, and he was only proven right when a few tussles later they were all running away- back to safety and as failures.
Or maybe safety wasn't the right word, for once they made it back to their meetup point- an old abandoned warehouse that Negaduck had assigned as the day's hideout- the evil masked mallard threw his hat on the ground and started stomping on it violently. Yelling loud enough that the pigeons resting on top of the building woke with a start and launched themselves into the sky.
"I can't believe it- I had everything planned! It was all there, that sax was gonna be in my grasp!" Negaduck dug his heel into his hat, making it all the worse for wear. "And then Darkwing had to come and happen! He was probably already there, waiting for us!" He paused, growing more hunched with his anger before swirling back around to face his henchmen- eyes red from pure rage. "No! No it was YOU knobs that ruined it for me! Which one of you caused the dork pile to crash on me? Huh? WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT?!"
"Well it certainly wasn't me!" Quackerjack blurted at once, casting an accusatory glance at Megavolt, who had been the one to crash into him.
"What? Don't look at me! I'm innocent!" Megavolt spat.
The four criminals stood, fearful for their very lives, as Negaduck's fury-filled glare swept over them. What made it worse, was that he was silent as he eyed each of them, as if he could smell the culprit. Finally, when his glare fixated on Bushroot, the ex-botanist gulped audibly. This was it. This was how he was going to die.
"I think..." Negaduck began, and suddenly he was inches from Bushroot's face. "It was you! The clumsy caboose!"
The snick-snick sound of a rather large pair of hedge clippers that Negaduck pulled out of seemingly nowhere made Bushroot whimper and step backward out of reflex.
"The weakest link!" snick-snick. The clippers snapped at Bushroot's midsection, threateningly. Bushroot backed up, and Negaduck matched his every step. "And I think... it's about time I trim a few dead branches off the team!"
The hedge clippers plunged forward, and Bushroot screamed- even though they stopped short when the watery canine sloshed up to form in between the two.
"Hey, I have an idea!" The bubbly salesman announced, in a seemingly good cheer. "Why cut your team short, when you could just make them work overtime to pay off the debt, instead?"
Negaduck lowered his trimmers slightly, as his brow did the slightest of raises.
"And what is THAT supposed to mean, facet face?"
Liquidator smiled wider, seeing he got his boss' interest.
"None know WHY the might of the Fearsome Five were drawn towards the humble, but still heavily stocked, Saint Canard Museum- a simple stakeout should do just the trick in our favor. With the Fearsome FOUR doing all the dirty work, what do you have to lose?"
Negaduck thought this over, rubbing his chin and mumbling to himself as groaning could be heard from the other side of the room- where Megavolt and Quackerjack had distanced themselves from the crazed clippers.
"Aww, more work," the toymaker whined, " but that's not faaair. Mr. Trips-a-lot was the one that messed up!"
The evil masked mallard growled, craning his neck to glare at the demented duo- this instantly quieting them.
"Shut up, ya costumed clods!" Nobody pointed out what Negaduck was wearing, as he went on. "We're GOING with Drippy's idea. Yeah, why should *I* be doing the work when I got you losers to be doing it FOR me!" Their boss turned back to the mutated members of the group, as he eyed the villain hiding behind his watery pal. "But if you mess up THIS time… I'll forgo the sheers completely and put you through the woodchipper- CAPISCE?!"
Overly eager nodding and hurried verbal agreement that bordered on groveling was their reply. Good. It made things so much easier when the lackies knew their place.
"Good. Now I've got plans elsewhere, but I'll be back." He was already headed toward the exit. "You morons have three days to get me that saxophone. If you fail?"
Negaduck chuckled in a way that sent unpleasant chills through the four villains.
"Well, I don't recommend it." The door slammed shut and they flinched. Megavolt and Quackerjack both glared at the other half of the team in contempt.
"Oh, great. Thanks ever so much." Quackerjack's tone dripped with sarcasm. He plopped into a nearby wooden chair with a huff.
"Yeah, that's exactly how I planned on spending my weekend!" Megavolt snapped. Both of them proceeded to chatter amongst themselves, Quackerjack muttering something about it being Tuesday.
Bushroot was trembling, and he couldn't stop. Between almost becoming compost, and being reminded of what a failure he always had been and would forever be, the plant-duck was swimming in emotional overload. His head felt far too light. If he stayed any longer, he was either going to burst into tears, or pass out, neither of which would help whatever reputation he had left. He quietly excused himself and stepped outside, the cool night air already a welcome contrast to the stuffy confines of the shack.
The coolness became a pleasant chill when a cold wet hand placed itself gently and comfortingly on his shoulder. Bushroot turned around to see the Liquidator, as the other villain used his neck to point to the side.
"You know, five out of five doctors agree that walks do wonders for your health. How would you like to accompany me- your favorite partner-in-crime- on a late night stroll around this quaint and slightly decrepitating facility? Hmm?"
Bushroot couldn't help but give a slight smile despite his troubled mood.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Sure, Buddy, lead the way."
Seeing that his invitation was welcomely received, Liquidator wrapped a watery appendage around the smaller scientist's waist- navigating his blossoming beau away from the hideout's entrance. Once well enough away, and sure that there were no tailgators, the salesman got straight to the point. No point in beating around the bush, after all. Especially when one's boyfriend could easily call said bush a cousin.
" Some day, huh? It wouldn't be the first time I've been unable to get a foot in the door on a deal, but I gotta say it's the first time I haven't even made it TO the door." He chuckled lightly just to show he meant his words in good will. His laughter was cut short by the way Bushroot wilted next to him. "Aw, now none of that, Reggie. So you had an off day- happens to the best of us!"
Liquidator's words, while obviously meant to comfort, only made Bushroot feel worse. Self-pity and despair stole away his ambition to walk, and he slumped to the ground against an old chain link fence, which was already overgrown with other worthless weeds, anyway.
"An off day? Ha! Try an off life! Aw, Negaduck was right; I really am pathetic. I don't belong on a team! Heck, I'm not even cut out to be the towel boy."
Liquidator frowned, and settled beside his wilting willow. He had always known that the guy had some serious self esteem issues, but perhaps they ran deeper than he had ever realized. Could Reggie not see what Buddy saw in him? That was a truly sad concept.
"Reggie, you know what I see when I look at you?"
"Compost?"
"Hardly! I see someone with unlimited potential."
Bushroot raised a brow at this, skeptical of what was said to him.
"Potential?"
"Indeed," Liquidator nodded, scootching a little closer and draping an arm over the plant-duck's shoulders. "You were a scientist working at a small time university, abused by the constant misconduct of your fellow workers. Once fired, you took it upon yourself to continue on with your experiments despite the risks, all because you were dedicated to your cause. Now look at you! You're one of Saint Canard's most feared criminals, with household recognition to boot!"
Bushroot's frown deepened at this.
"That's not really helping, Buddy. I'm not exactly proud of having people afraid of me."
The watery villain could see his paramour would be a harder sale than he originally thought. This, however, did not deter him as he used his free hand to raise a finger in excitement.
"Ah! But you should be! Intimidation is just as important as cooperation and niceties. While charm can get one far, sometimes you have to know when to put the pressure on those that have what you want. And Reggie, you now have the powers to do it. You have the ability to control resources that everyone in the town, nay, THE WORLD needs in order to survive! If you really put your mind to it you could have overrun the whole city with your vegetation compatriots ages ago!"
"But I don't really WANT to do all that. I'm a simple plant-duck with simple needs, remember?" While Bushroot protested, it was evident by the slight quirk of his bill and thoughtful expression that he was at least thinking about what the Liquidator was saying. And that was good enough for him.
"But you COULD! And that's an important distinction to make, even if you don't want to." Liquidator cupped the side of the plant-duck's face, Bushroot's eyes instantly locking with his own. The water dog went on. "You're greater than what you give yourself credit for, you know. And on top of that you have the potential to be even more than that. You'd do wonders, if only you'd let yourself."
Bushroot wasn't able to reply right away. He had never had anyone rooting for him, never had anyone tell him he had any worth- when it came to his life's ambitions, he had always been a team of one. Perhaps that was proof enough that what Buddy said was the truth. Dare he dream?
Eyes that were quite literally deep pools, were hard to read, and as Bushroot felt his own begin to well up with tears, he turned his head away to wipe at his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Buddy, I don't mean to be such a weeping willow. Do you really mean all that stuff you said?" An exotic looking plant sprouted from the ground then, and allowed Bushroot to blow his nose into its large leaves.
"Every word!" Liquidator announced in confidence, only slightly distracted by the newly defiled plant, which had already disappeared back into the ground.
Bushroot stood up then, still fighting the sniffles, but winning, in any case. Liquidator rose to meet him, pleased to see his pal was obviously feeling surprise came from his leafy partner wrapping his arms around him in a heartfelt hug.
"Thanks, Buddy. I really needed to hear that, I guess."
All smiles, the watery villain returned in kind, wrapping his arms around the other criminal's waste before leaning his forehead against Bushroot fondly.
"Always happy to spare a few words to those who want to listen- and even to some who don't!"
Before Bushroot could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of a cheerful and familiar voice calling for them.
"Buuuushbrain, Sir Piddle Puddle! Where aaaaare yoooou?" It didn't take long before Quackerjack- with a Megavolt tagging along not too far behind- to round the corner of the building and spot them. "THERE you two are!"
"For people that signed us up for triple shift," the electrical rodent grumbled, "you two ran off fast. Aren't we supposed to be getting to work, or what?" His fixed glare on the two mutants was diverted towards his demented pal when Quackerjack nudged him with his elbow. "What NOW?"
"Ooo la la, I think we just walked in on something." The toymaker giggled. "Didn't realize this was a PRIVATE party. SO, sorry!"
It took Megavolt a moment to make the connection, and when he did, his eyes grew wide.
"Whoa. Get a room!"
And then Quackerjack and Megavolt began snickering and giggling like children. The snickering soon turned to garbled screams when they were blasted with water, their close proximity to one another causing them both to be electrocuted instantly. They collapsed to the ground in a groaning, smoking heap.
"Caution; do not agitate your fellow team members!" Liquidator scolded. Bushroot managed not to laugh, but he failed to stop the amused smile.
"You know," The scientist started, not fully agreeing with what he was about to say, "you didn't HAVE to do that."
Liquidator gave a hearty laugh, leading his partner-in-crime back towards the entrance of the building- purposefully making a grand gesture of stepping over the fried villain pile.
"No, but one good laugh deserves another, don't you agree?"
Bushroot had to admit, it DID feel nice not to be the butt of a joke for a change. He had been terribly embarrassed to have been caught in such an intimate moment. Sure, a perfectly innocent intimate moment, but private nonetheless. And nobody likes to have others poke fun of their feelings. Speaking of feelings, Bushroot just couldn't get over the fact that Liquidator believed in him so much. HIM, a vegetative nobody who just lucked out in the powers department. It filled the plant-duck up with so much hope and pride. Liquidator hadn't steered him wrong before, and it would be nice to live up to those wonderful thoughts he had of him. That settled it, he HAD to do something. Make his boyfriend proud, make HIMSELF feel proud of his accomplishments for a change.
But… where would he even begin?
Stake out patrol was delayed a few hours that night- Quackerjack insisted he couldn't go out in singed clothing, and Megavolt needed to go home and recharge. The delay didn't bother Bushroot one bit; it gave him some extra time to come up with some semblance of a game plan. Sure, he was still on Negaduck's time, technically, but he had his own life and plans to think about, too!
Besides, Negaduck wasn't there, anyway.
The four of them had decided to meet a few blocks away from the museum, then walk together the rest of the way. No point in being caught before the whole crew had even gotten there. The mutant half of the team had gotten there first, of course, the other two still preparing.
"How does someone go about improving themselves?" Bushroot muttered to himself, as he sat on the ground, watching the Liquidator approach a man across the street.
"Look at him, so bold, so confident, going right up to that guy, like it's so easy. I sure wish I was like..." Bushroot suddenly sat straight as the solution to his problems materialized in front of him. Of course! What better a way to improve yourself, than to act like someone who is better than you are?
Bushroot took out a small pad of paper and a pencil, and began scribbling on it.
"Be... ! It's perfect! I'll just watch Buddy tonight, write down a few notes- I'll just do what he does from now on!"
Watching his boyfriend a bit more, the plant-duck couldn't help but be impressed by how the Liquidator tapped the unsuspecting man on the shoulder, before stretching and dodging his gaze as the watery villain slipped a slippery hand into the man's pocket. With another flick of the wrist, and a quick swoosh into the street's drain system, the villain was missed completely as the victim turned back ahead and continued on his way- this time less merry and more cautious as he occasionally checked back over his shoulder.
Once the man was gone, Liquidator popped out a head from the sewers, all smiles before sliding the rest of himself back to the surface world. The villain began to chuckle as he made his way back to his partner, flipping through the wallet.
"He may have an unattractive family, but this Larry Shoebuckle is at least doing well in life, if his credit cards and money are any indicator. Good for him!" The Liquidator's smile slipped as he finally noticed Bushroot had been busy writing away in his notepad, seemingly not noticing a word he had said. The water salesman quirked a brow. "And just what ARE you up to, Reggie?"
"Huh?" Bushroot's wide blue eyes shot up, the look of a child who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar on his face. The pad of paper quickly disappeared behind his back.
"Oh! Um, nothing, it's nothing, just, thought I'd get caught up on my uh... grocery list! Yeah."
Liquidator didn't believe this for a second; Bushroot was a terrible liar. Lucky for Bushroot, however, his watery companion didn't get a chance to press any further, as familiar giggling could be heard down the street. The pad of paper now forgotten, Liquidator peeked around the side of the building to wave down the other half of the team.
Megavolt and Quackerjack joined them in the alleyway, still snickering about some inside joke, no doubt. Megavolt had a few more gadgets than usual clipped to his belt- no one asked him what they were, much to Megavolt's disappointment. Bushroot was just glad to see them in a better mood than they had been in earlier. After a short exchange of words, the foursome made their way to the museum.
The place was even creepier at night, but weren't most things? Quackerjack pulled out a map of the place, and began looking at it, while the other three crowded around to look over his shoulder.
"Where the heck did you even get that, Quacky?" Megavolt questioned, scratching his head.
"From city hall, of course!" The surprised looks from the others took the smile off his face as he could practically read their collective thoughts. "Hey, I can be professional when I want to be, ya know!"
"The little crayon drawings on the sides would indicate otherwise," the Liquidator pointed out, with an amused lilt.
Quakerjack puffed up his chest, bill high in the air as he huffed.
"THAT had nothing to do with professionalism and more to do with the fact I have a creative genius that can't be contained." His haughtiness deflated into a pout. "Now are you guys gonna listen or not? I was GOING to share that I found a way inside, but if you guys don't wanna hear then me and my blueprints can go elsewhere!"
Megavolt groaned.
"Alright alright, they're nice drawings. Just spit out the plan already!"
Pleased as punch, the toymaker dramatically pointed at the paper in his hands as he shared what he had discovered.
"Not that I'm one to go into boring old museums often, but it looks like there's a skylight just a few halls away from the Egyptian exhibit. All we gotta do is get to the roof, find it, and it'll practically be the front door. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy!"
Liquidator, who had been rubbing his chin thoughtfully while the mad mallard went over his findings, nodded encouragingly.
"Simple, but effective!"
"Yeah, way to go Quacky!" Megavolt praised his pal. Quackerjack bowed, his hat nearly hitting the rodent in the face in the process. "Hey, watch it!"
Megavolt was ignored.
"Thank you, thank you- I'll be here 'til Thursday!"
"Let's hope not!" Liquidator replied, already looking around for a way up to the roof.
"Yeah, let's grab the sax and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps!" Bushroot scurried after Liquidator.
"Does everything give you the creeps?"Megavolt whined, somehow both annoyed and amused. Bushroot shot him a look over his shoulder.
"Oh, stuff a bulb in it."
"Heeey!" Quackerjack elbowed Megavolt, playfully."Now there's an idea, ay, Megsy?"
Megavolt elbowed him back, his less playful and more painful. Quackerjack cackled, only to be shushed by Liquidator.
After quickly jotting down, 'take charge of the situation' into his notebook, Bushroot suddenly sprouted an idea on how to get up to the roof. He cleared his throat, and tapped Liquidator on the shoulder.
"If we need a lift..." there was a deep groaning sound, and a large, nearby tree bent and lowered a sizable limb, large enough for all four of them to fit. "Douglas might be able to lend a limb or two!"
Not waiting to hear any complaints, the tree snatched up the four of them and placed the group on the roof- gently patting their heads like a child playing with their dolls.
"Yeah yeah, you did good, Douglas," Bushroot said, shooing the tree away with leafy palm. "Thanks. I'll let you know if we need you again."
Watching the douglas fir give a quick salute before going back to its post, the plant-duck was startled by the cool arm thrown over his shoulder.
"I don't know about you, " the Liquidator chuckled, " but that was quite the uplifting experience!"
"Yeah, real spiritual." Megavolt grumbled his input, busy picking off the needles that the tree had left on him.
The toymaker of the group hadn't stuck around while the villains chewed the scenery, instead following his blueprints until finally spotting the skylight they were looking for. With a few good skips, his bells jingling along with him, Quackerjack danced in place as he called for his fellow cohorts.
"Psssst, hey! I fooound it!"
Bushroot couldn't help but think of Spike's enthusiasm, and he momentarily wondered if Quackerjack would ever dig up and ruin his flower bed too. He didn't get to muse about it for long, as he was brought back to the moment by Megavolt taking one of the tools off of his belt. Getting onto his knees, he began to cut a large hole into the glass. Oh, so THAT'S what he had brought with him. Bushroot was starting to feel very under prepared, especially when all he thought to bring with him was paper.
'Paper, that's practically carrying around the dead remains of a cousin,' the plant-duck thought with mild disgust.
A cracking sound disturbed the four as the glass Megavolt had been cutting crashed through and began to fall- the brain fried rodent having forgot to place suction cups on it. While the team gasped, it was Liquidator who acted fast. With a swoosh the villain grabbed the falling glass, raising it back before carefully placing it on the roof. Bushroot sighed while Quackerjack sneered.
"Way to go, Sparky, you almost blew the whole thing!"
"You know, I always forget the suction cups. Maybe THAT'S why I rarely use this darn thing." All thoughtfulness over his equipment vanished from the rodent's face as something dawned on him. "And don't call me Sparky! You KNOW I hate when you call me that!"
While the insane half of the team were bickering, Liquidator slipped through the hole, splattering into a puddle on the museum floor. As soon as he was certain the coast was clear, he reformed, and gestured for the other three to follow.
But there was a problem. Bushroot hadn't been the only one who had come unprepared; no one had thought to bring a rope.
"Well now what are we supposed to do?" Quackerjack whined.
"Some of us have bones, you know!" Megavolt hissed.
Bushroot knew a solution, but he didn't like it. Seeing as there was no other choice,he sighed. His root-like feet curled around the skylight's frame for support, and his body stretched up, and then down, through the hole. He managed to come within a foot on the floor before he reached his limit.
Megavolt and Quackerjack looked down through the skylight, at each other, and shrugged. That would work! Quackerjack bounced up and landed on Bushroot's back- eliciting an 'Oomph' from the makeshift silly slide- and then slid down, cackling the whole way. When he reached the bottom, he flew off the top of Bushroot's head, and had Liquidator not caught him, he would have made rubble out of a nearby display.
"My hero!" Quackerjack looked up at the watery canine, and fluttered his eyelashes. Liquidator dropped him.
"Welp, that's one," the water dog said just as confident as ever. Liquidator looked back towards his makeshift rope of a boyfriend to see Megavolt had much more cautiously slipped down his frame. He, however, still couldn't avoid the awkwardness of landing on Bushroots head, the impact causing them both to fall- the plant-duck's elongated body falling on top of them both in a coiled pile. Megavolt lifted the folds off of himself, peeking out.
"Okay, never going to do THAT again," the rodent complained.
"No kidding," came the muffled and strained agreement of Bushroot. Thankfully for them both, with the help of the other half of the Fearsome Four, they were freed quickly enough and the plant-duck was able to right himself enough to literally pull himself together. While Bushroot enjoyed being as tall as he wanted- something his short and stubby past regular duck self couldn't do- he had to admit the situation had been a stretch.
Now that they were inside the museum, step two could be put into effect. Megavolt didn't need the water salesman turned group leader to give him the next instructions as he could easily sense the cameras watching them and surrounding the area. Looking more like a cowboy from a western, the rodent made a pistol out of his right hand before firing off bolts of lightning. Pew pew, two in the front, and giving a quick twist he fired off one last bolt over his shoulder at the remaining camera. Once finished he blew off his slightly steaming fingers with a satisfied smirk.
Quackerjack was impressed.
"Niiiice shooting, Tex."
Megavolt was beaming with pride, Quackerjack's compliment only fuelling his ego. He didn't get to bask in his victory for long, however, before Liquidator took each of them by a shoulder, and spun them around.
"All signs point towards that-a-way to our final destination."
And it was true, there were multiple signs on the walls with arrows leading its visitors to its many different wings and attractions.
"Hey, don't shove, we're going, we're going!" Quackerjack huffed when Liquidator began pushing them down the hall.
"Studies in past experiences show that you two have a little trouble when it comes to focus, focus, focus!"
Megavolt scoffed, and satisfied that they were indeed at least going the right way, Liquidator stepped away, he and Bushroot trailing slightly behind.
"I can focus!" The electric rodent insisted angrily. " I didn't become a super villain just yesterday, you know. Whoa! Is that a new display in the Edison wing?"
Liquidator face-palmed as Megavolt stopped completely to see if he could decipher just what new item had been added from there, his hand cupping over his goggles as he squinted. The watery salesman was JUST about to say something when he was interrupted by Bushroot lightly tapping him on the shoulder. Looking down at the plant-duck quizzically, Bushroot pointed a finger down the hall.
"Uh, looks like we lost Quackerjack."
"What?!"
The watery villain looked frantically around to see if he could spot the missing criminal- at this rate they were going to get caught! Liquidator raised an ear in alarm as he heard mad giggling down one of the wings. Peeking around the corner, Quackerjack could be seen riding on top of a t-rex display in the dinosaur exhibit.
"It's like raising a toddler all over again!" The villain lamented in despair. Though, he momentarily mused, at least his own son had been adorable while terrorizing the pre-mutated villain. The toymaker, on the other hand, was just plain old trying his patience. And it was with a growl that Liquidator wound up his pitching arm before, with a throw, stretching his arm out and grabbing the distracted villain.
"Hey, what gives!" Quackerjack cried, as he was yanked from his prehistoric pony. Any further complaints from the demented duck were silenced by the intense glower on the usually friendly face of his watery teammate.
"Planning on keeping up crazed and childish antics," the Liquidator began softly but threateningly. "Then I'll have to give you a double dose of Liquidator brand parenting."
Before Quackerjack could question what THAT had meant, he yelped in surprise as the villain drew the duck into his body. Quackerjack was stuck! Unable to move! And a glance down at his torso he was able to see why, and Liquidator had used his powers to make a makeshift baby carrier and was keeping the toymaker hostage.
"THERE, " Liquidator said with a satisfied smirk. "Now a 100% guarantee that you won't be running off again."
Quackerjack crossed his arms and he sunk deeper into his carrier- glaring off into the distance.
"Party pooper."
"Stay... focused." Bushroot muttered as he scribbled the note into his pad. That seemed like an obvious one, but it couldn't hurt to jot it down, anyway.
"Where's Megavolt?" Bushroot looked up when he heard just how exasperated the Liquidator's tone had been. The ex-salesman's seemingly bottomless well of patience was quickly drying up. Bushroot glanced around, and sure enough, they were one team member short again. A flash of yellow caught their attention across the hall in the Edison exhibit, and both Liquidator and Bushroot sighed.
"I'll go get 'im." Bushroot volunteered, and trudged off to fetch the errant spark plug.
By the time they had reached the Egyptian exhibit, no one was having a good time. Megavolt and Quackerjack were angry for not getting to explore and take home a few toys, and Bushroot and Liquidator were tired of hearing them whine about it.
"Good, we're here, now would you let me go already!" Megavolt snapped, tugging on the harness and leash that was actually Bushroot's arm.
"Yeah, and let me down!" Quackerjack whined, bouncing up and down in his makeshift papoose made of water, which wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling for the Liquidator. Just because the water salesman didn't have a digestive system didn't mean he didn't feel nauseous from being shaken up. Giving the tantrum having villain the boot, Liquidator flushed him from his system- making the jester a sopping wet puddle on the museum floor. With the literal and figurative load off of him, Liquidator sighed as Bushroot looked sympathetically at him.
'Poor Buddy,' the plant-duck couldn't help but think with a hint of guilt. 'He wouldn't be putting up with any of this if we just got the darn thing earlier. Negaduck would never put up with any of this.'
Introspection would have to be put on hold, however, as a loud gasp caused the four villains to spin around. There standing at the entrance of the wing was a burly looking guard. He was shaking in his uniform even as he pointed his flashlight at the villainous cohorts.
"The Fearsome Five!" The guard did a quick count. "Er, four, even. What… What are YOU doing here?!"
Megavolt blinked.
"Stealing?" He paused as he threw a look towards his partner-in-crime. "We ARE stealing, right? I swear I lost track of the plot a long time ago."
"Beats me, I'm just here as the comedic relief." Quackerjack answered with a shrug.
Meanwhile the night watchman was fumbling with his radio with the intent on calling on backup. That was not good. Backup meant getting the attention of the police, or worse- Darkwing Duck. On top of the frustrations of going through this scheme, as well as not taking a chance on Negaduck breaking his promise of a tossed salad, Liquidator would not allow them all to be carted off to prison. Not here, not now.
"Long night on the job?" Liquidator began, marching menacingly towards the guard. "Things just not going your way? Then you're not the only one, bub!"
The villain leapt and dived towards the security guard, encasing him entirely in his body. The man kicked and screamed, trying to swim his way out of the liquid prison. Liquidator bubbled rapidly, his heat rising and the guard inside him panicking more. It didn't take long before he passed out from fear and lack of oxygen, and Liquidator quickly expelled him from inside his body. He wanted the man knocked out, not DEAD, after all.
"In-timi-dation... oh, this is good stuff!"
Megavolt elbowed Quackerjack, and nodded toward Bushroot, who was busy writing in a notepad.
"Hey, Quacky... what's Bushbrain up to? Writing fanfiction?"
Quackerjack tiptoed over to look over Bushroot's shoulder, and then reached a hand over and snatched it from his grasp. "Let's see now..."
"Hey! Give that back, it's mine!" Bushroot lunged for the pad, and Quackerjack easily sidestepped him, giggling and hopping backwards.
"Hey Megs, catch!" He tossed the notepad, and it arched over Bushroot's head, where Megavolt caught it. Bushroot tried swiping it again, and Megavolt turned his back just in time.
"Huh? 'Be confident'? 'Take charge'? What kind of notes are these?"
He flinched when the pad was snatched from him by a glaring Liquidator. Buddy's glower quickly turned genuinely apologetic when he saw what he had done to the now waterlogged and illegible notepad. He held it out to Bushroot, anyway, who tried his best not to show how disappointed he was.
"Uh... sorry about that, Reggie..."
"Oh, it's alright... I think I remember most of it, anyway."
That didn't stop Liquidator from feeling bad about it, though. It did, however, make him decide to redirect his feelings into anger as he glared metaphorical daggers at the demented duo. Megavolt and Quackerjack laughed nervously.
"SO, Megsy," Quackerjack said, spinning his pal around and directing him towards the glass display where the Mystic Saxophone was waiting for them. " Shouldn't you be using your toys to snip-snip and get us that sax?"
"Right," the rodent replied, nodding his head as he began to fumble with the tools on his belt. "I'm just going to, ya know, go do that now. Aheh heh."
"Ah, happy to hear that! Cooperation does wonders!" The water villain's voice may have SOUNDED friendlier, but his posture certainly was not. Liquidator decided it didn't hurt to keep up the intimidation act if it kept them on task- but couldn't help but throw a wink towards the plant-duck next to him while the others weren't looking.
Bushroot smiled back at him, still not yet free of the butterflies in his tummy every time the guy looked at him. His disappointment over the notepad was gone. It was just nice to have someone stick up for him for once.
The last time Megavolt had seen a saxophone in person, was back in his High School days- he had forgotten just how big they were. The case it resided in was locked, of course, but that didn't matter much when you had a glass cutter. He made a mental note to swipe the slumbering display lights, as well.
After examining the case for a few seconds, and the size of the instrument, he decided that one whole side would have to go. As he went to work on that, the other three kept watch for more guards. A boring job, indeed, Quackerjack lamented to himself, crossing his arms and leaning up against the door frame. Suddenly, as if his complaints had been heard and recognized, the boredom was broken with the sound of shattering glass.
Liquidator, Bushroot, and Quackerjack spun around to gape incredulously at Megavolt and the display case, one whole side of it now lay in pieces on the floor.
"I always forget the suction cups in these stupid things." Megavolt shrugged. He was then shoved out of the way by Quackerjack- who eagerly bounced past the broken glass. Bending over slightly to get a better view of the saxophone, the villain whistled.
"Talk about dingy! The sax I found at the dump is in better shape than THIS old hunk of junk. Shame, really, I think we might be downgrading."
"No kidding, " Megavolt muttered in agreement, "But Negaduck wants it and that's all I need to know. So just hurry up a replace the darn thing so I can go home, Quacky." A pause. "Oh, and don't forget about the sensors. They're very sensitive to weight change, so you'll have to switch them out fast."
The toymaker waved his pal off playfully.
"Not a problem at all! They don't call me 'Quick- fingers McGee' for nothing!"
As if to prove his point Quackerjack wiggled his digits in anticipation before pulling out the elastic of his pants. Stretching a hand down inside his poofy trousers- his tongue sticking out in concentration- he fumbled around. Quackerjack gave a small 'aha!' as he found what he was looking for- pulling out a saxophone of his very own.
Bushroot, genuinely alarmed, leaned towards the Liquidator as he whispered.
"Oh, for cabbage's sake, where in the world was he HIDING that thing?"
"Beats me, " the water dog replied, " but survey says when it comes to insane toymakers, some questions are better left unanswered."
Bushroot decided he agreed, and wondered what was taking them so long. Megavolt also wondered what was taking so long. He glared over Quackerjack's shoulder- the nutty toymaker seemed to just be staring at the stupid thing.
"What are you doing? Grab it and let's get out of here!" Megavolt snapped. Quackerjack shushed him sharply, never taking his gaze off of the valuable instrument.
"Shh! I'm concentrating. Things like this take time, and precision, and-"
"Quackerjack we don't have all night!"
He knew Megavolt was right, as that really translated to 'hurry up before Darkwing Duck shows up and crashes the party'. He huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Oh, fine." Quackerjack quickly, and effortlessly, switched the instruments, hefting the valuable one against one shoulder, his free hand on his hip. "You really know how to suck the fun out of everything, you know that?"
"Yeah yeah, whatever," the rodent pulled his pal by the arms, dragging him towards the exit. "You can call me a 'party trooper', or a 'duddy luddy', or WHATEVER you like later!"
The four of them had made it out the exhibit and down the hall back to the hole they had started from. Bushroot sighed as he realized that, yet again, he would have to become a climbing-vine for the others to walk all over. The plant-duck would ponder the symbolism of it later, as he grew towards the exit.
Bushroot called down towards his pals.
"Okay, I think I'm good, guys!"
"I call dibs to ride Melonhead first!" Quackerjack cried, laughing as he ran towards the beanstalk. "Last one to the top has to marry a golden goose!"
"That would be one way to make a profit!" Liquidator said with a chuckle as he splashed his way past the ducks and was the first outside- not needing to climb his partner-in-crime. "Though, the Liquidator brand of victory also satisfies!"
The toymaker, who was halfway to the top, gasped in offense.
"Hey, no fair, you cheated!"
"You may call it cheating." Liquidator peaked down through the skylight at him, smiling. "I call it exploiting a natural advantage." A wink, and he disappeared again. Quackerjack pouted, and scurried up the rest of the way, followed by Megavolt.
While Quackerjack was making fun of Bushroot for his arranged marriage with a golden goose, and the fearsome foursome were being lifted down from the roof by Douglas, our heroic caped crusader was arriving too little too late.
"I am the terror, that flaps in the- oh you've gotta be kidding me."
Darkwing stood in an abandoned Egyptian exhibit, broken glass on the floor and an old, rusted saxophone in the case. He walked around the display, scratching his chin, careful not to step on any of the glass.
"Huh... I guess they decided not to steal anything after all. Not that I blame them; this thing's a piece of junk. Oh well! I guess I'll just-"
His communicator squawked to life then, as Morgana McCawber- the reason he had been late arriving to begin with- began berating him, calling him a few not-very-nice names. He fumbled with the device before switching it off.
"Heh heh... as I was saying, I guess I'll just have to comb the entire museum to see what was stolen!"
The rest of their date would have to be put off until later. Too bad.
