Chapter 9

Sharp grinned at his reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled into the garage. As much as he preferred luxury accommodations and a chauffeur, pretending to be an average citizen had its advantages. For one thing, he didn't have to wait for Horatio to find the keys and dig out maps before driving. He could get behind the wheel himself.

Although it had been years since he'd driven anything besides a motor boat or a golf cart, the gracefully aging vulture had picked up the basics of driving solo fairly easily. And he did figure out how to turn off those blasted windshield wipers that started every time he turned on the ignition.

He smiled smugly. Everything was working out according to plan. He had Darkwing Duck on a short leash and he had the Canardium delivered. Soon, his "associate" would have a Canardium-powered generator to go along with the rest of the device Sharp, or rather Horatio, had picked up soon after Sharp arrived in St. Canard.
Once the generator was attached to the caging, Sharp would have the mayor of St. Canard, and the officials of every neighboring city, on their knees begging for mercy. Ha!

Pleased with himself and his good fortune, Sharp tossed the car keys in the air and caught them as he walked into the house. Sighing, he settled into an armchair in the den and propped his feet up on a glass coffee table. It was so good of Mrs. Beaker to leave the house furnished. A pity the old girl was in such a hurry to leave the area. He would have liked to question her some more about the neighbors. But at least her TV had been modern enough to hook up his DVR. And his maroon pillows added just the right touch of home. Although he had no intentions of staying any longer than he needed to...

The doorbell interrupted his reverie.
"Who could that be...?" he muttered as he glanced at the clock. He opened the door to an odd sight: a fat duck in a garish lime green T-shirt with fruit printed all over it. With him was a tall yellow avian of uncertain origin in a blue dress with an apron and a fat kid.

"Well howdy neighbor! Hoo hoo!" Herb laughed before the vulture could say anything. "Thought we'd drop by and introduce ourselves! I'm Herb Muddlefoot. This here is my lovely Binkie, and our oldest son Tank."

"Hi," the boy growled almost inaudibly. He had his arms crossed in front of him.

Binkie beamed at their new neighbor. "We brought you a housewarming gift! It's my mother's special recipe: chocolate chip and strawberry swirled spice cake." She pressed the still-warm pan into his hands.

"How nice..." Sharp commented. He doffed his top hat politely. "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. and Missus... Yeowch!" He yelped and started juggling the cake from hand to hand as he blew on his fingers. "Hot, hot, hot!"

"Oh dear, my apologies! I thought I handed you the potholder! My mistake..." Binkie smiled apologetically as she rescued the endangered gift.

"Here!" Herb said helpfully as he took the cake from Binkie and stepped around Sharp. "I'll take it in for ya, Spud. I'll just set this here baby in the kitchen. Wouldn't want something to happen to it."

"Oh Herb, dear!" Binkie called to her husband's back as she followed him inside. "Don't forget! We need to put the cake on a trivet to cool."

"Sure thing, Binkums! Um...where's the trivy-thingie?" he frowned as he looked around the kitchen counter space.

Sharp blinked at the couple. Did they really just invite themselves in?

"Outta my way, Baldy!" Tank shoved Sharp as he bulled his way in.

"What? How dare you...!" Sharp stammered. He stalked after the obnoxious child and found the rude redhead and Herb parked on his couch. Herb was holding Sharp's expensive multifunction DVR remote control in one hand and a paper towel with cake in the other. He was using one of the silk brocade pillows as a lap desk for the dessert. Sharp steamed.

"Oh, Mr. Shear?" Binkie called from the kitchen.

"What is it now?" he muttered as he went toward the voice.

"Oh... Never mind. I found it."

"Found what?" he asked as he reached the kitchen. Binkie was in the process of cutting a huge slice of cake and laying it on a paper towel.

"The trivet!" Binkie replied. "And the silverware. I did look for the plates, but they weren't in their usual spot so we improvised a bit. Oh, don't worry about the plates, Mr. Shear. We've managed." She handed him a huge slice. "Here you are! I do hope you like it."

Sharp accepted the cake with a reluctant half smile. Well, the housewife couldn't be all bad. The dessert smelled wonderful and the warmth felt good on his palm. He took a delicate nibble as Binkie related the recipe.
"I made it my own by adding a few special ingredients. It has just the right amount of chocolate and strawberry jam..."

Sharp coughed suddenly. What was that searing sensation? Gracious! He'd had milder chili peppers than this!

"And cinnamon candy mixed with just a tad of ground Trinidad Scorpion pepper! It adds just enough kick, don't you think?" Binkie smiled expectantly.

"You could say that again..." Sharp wheezed, chucking the remainder of his morsel in the trash.

"I also took the liberty to mix up some ice cold lemonade using the lemon juice in the fridge. It should be ready in a minute." Binkie added cheerfully.

"Mm-mm-mm! Nobody can whip up a spice cake like you, Honeybunch!" Herb commented. "Hey, Percy! How do you change the channel?" he held up the remote. "I found the power button and volume and all that good stuff, but the dad-burned thing isn't labeled or nothing."

"'Percy'?" Sharp muttered questioningly. "Where did they come up with...?" Tank interrupted him.

"I'll take care of it, Pop!" Tank said as he seized the remote from Herb. His mouth was full of cake.

Sharp grimaced as the kid spat crumbs all over the place from talking with his mouth full. No wonder the house was practically a steal! Mrs. Beaker had been desperate to get rid of!
"Give me patience..." he breathed softly as he massaged his temples.
He pried his eyes away from the few things he had actually gone to the trouble to bring to this dump and returned his attention to Binkie. She was talking about bringing over some flowers from her garden and asking if he preferred daisies or roses.

"Oh, roses, certainly," he smiled, straightening his deep red shirt proudly. He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "As long as they aren't from the islands of the Salad Sea. I'm very allergic to a particular type of tree sap. Any amount of it will make me break out in hives..."

"Well, I don't think any of my flowers are exotic. Unless you count color. My delphiniums were a particularly exotic shade of blue this year. Ooh, don't you just love flowers? They're so sunny and cheerful!"

"I can see why..." he thought, noting that Mrs. Muddlefoot was much the same as her plants: loud, insufferably cheerful, persistent, and dumb.

"Hey, Binkie, look what we found on TV!" Herb exclaimed, chuckling. "It's your favorite show! 'Cooking with Raquelle Manta!' Let's see what goodies she's going to fix for us today!"

"Wonderful! I hope it's the one on that lovely tuna salad she whipped up last month!" Binkie clutched her hands as she joined her family at the couch.

Sharp gaped. They were watching TV on his DVR. They were (ugh) touching his imported silk pillows; the only touch of home he had brought along besides clothes and technical gear. And his mouth was still burning from that awful dessert! Well, they were just about to wear out their welcome.

"Just out of curiosity, Mrs. Muddlefoot. Where did you hear my name?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," Binkie chuckled as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Your name is on the lease papers. Herb and I saw them on the counter while we were looking for the utensils."

As Sharp opened his mouth to object, Binkie continued speaking.
"'Perseus' is such a nice and...well, unusual name. What does it mean?"

Sharp tugged his lapels and slipped into an easy half truth. "I believe I was named for the constellation, but it could have been the Greek son of..."

Binkie seized the word "constellation" and started talking over him. "Well isn't that nice! Our Honker just loves astronomy. He..." As she nattered off about this Honker fellow, Sharp lost what shred of patience he had left.

"For Pete's sake!" he hissed as he stepped in front of the TV.

"Hey! We were watching that..." Herb pouted.

"Well, do us both a favor and watch it in your own house! I have other things to attend to." Sharp growled.

"Like what?" Tank challenged.

Sharp glared at him. "None of your business." To the others, he said. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must insist! But, to make it all up to you, you can take the rest of the cake home with you." He zipped into the kitchen and returned with it, pressing it into Binkie's arms.

"But you've hardly eaten any of it!" Binkie protested.

"I've had enough, thank you. I'm on a, uh, special diet. Doesn't leave much room for sweets."

"Well in that case...!" Herb eagerly took the cake pan from Binkie and headed toward the door. "We'll let you get back to business. Nice meeting ya, Neighbor!"

"Yes, yes, charmed I'm sure. Goodbye!" Sharp ushered all three out.

Tank turned around to protest and got his beak slammed in the door. He ran home yelling while clutching his sore bill.

Sharp grinned wickedly and chuckled from behind the closed door. "Gotcha!"