AUTHOR'S NOTE: So the Gizmosuit doesn't have a toilet in it, Frank? Well, that's a problem, as we'll no doubt see below.
Another caper finished for Duckburg's defender, the noble, the dashing, the courageous Gizmoduck. But today, something was different. He didn't wave at bystanders as he flew over the city center. He didn't do loop-de-loops over the First National Bank. And if someone on a nearby roof saw him fly directly overhead, they'd see their hero gritting his teeth under his reflective shades.
Gizmoduck had to pee...immediately.
Inside the massive suit of armor, hours of holding his pee were coming to a desperate head for one Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. He was flying toward the Money Bin as fast as his booster jets could carry him. His steel-covered arms were at his sides to aid in the aerodynamics necessary for flight, leaving him with only the use of his legs to aid in keeping the urge at bay. As his bladder throbbed once again, he pressed his thighs together as tightly as he could and moaned out loud. "Hurry, Gizmosuit…" he implored it out loud. "I won't last much longer!"
He sighed with relief seeing the Money Bin approaching fast in his vision. He quickly sent the open command to the secret tunnel leading to the underwater lab. The Gizmosuit activated autopilot, which would carry Fenton straight back to base automatically. He used this opportunity to grab himself, massaging himself between his legs. He felt as if he were seconds away from peeing himself. It was so close to the outside world, and his bladder screamed at him to flood he had kept in so diligently for so long.
"Just a little longer, Fenton. Almost there," he said as the tunnel zoomed past him, almost in an instant. Another door retracted, revealing the lab Fenton called his second home. The Gizmosuit dove up a few feet before lowering itself daintily to the metal floor and touching down without a single jolt. The suit's torso opened like a double door, and Fenton carefully jumped down, both hands still on his crotch.
He made a beeline for the restrooms, tensing his tired muscles for one last endurance test. As he shoved the men's door aside, he felt a sharp pain in his groin. It was coming. He slowed to a stop by the sinks and pulled on his crotch, squishing his legs against each other. Don'tleakdon'tleakdon'tleak, he willed in his mind.
The pain subsided. He had not leaked.
Regaining his senses, he located the nearest stall, which happened to house his former office and shoved his way in, not bothering to lock the door. He hovered over the bowl and his bladder gave out. The relief was immediate as he let it all out into the toilet. He moaned out his euphoria as the rock weighing down his pelvis was finally expelled from him.
He peed for what seemed like ages. When finished, he washed his hands, a happy duck once again. It was another close call this time, but one that had come too close for Fenton's liking. Something had to give, and he was sure his bladder would not anymore.
As he opened the door to exit, Gyro Gearloose was standing there, arms crossed. "Had a good flight home, did we, Cabrera?" His tone was dry.
Fenton raised up on his tiptoes to match Gyro's height. "Dr. Gearloose, I hate to be so assertive, but Gizmoduck will not be seen again until we install proper urinary facilities in the suit!"