Swimming in money never got old. Louie loved the feeling of the cool metal again his feathers, to be surrounded by heaps of gold and treasure. To be obscenely rich and have money be a form of extravagance rather than a necessity was a dream that Louie would never allow to die: no one would ever be able to convince him that anything was better than sitting in the lap of luxury.
Louie dove into the money, resurfaced, and began to perform a few backstrokes. This was the most energetic he had felt since they returned to Duckburg: the poison had taken a large toll on him and all he could do was sleep and eat for several days. Scrooge had summoned a doctor, not caring about the bill for once, and the medical professional stated that Louie was fine, that his body was simply exhausted from the effects of the poison. As long as he got the proper nutrients, there was nothing to worry about – the antidote had done its job. The entire family took turns to wake him up and watch him eat, Della being the most vigilant of the bunch. Louie had been a little uncomfortable with how his mother practically hovered over him as he tried to eat the meal she brought, almost like a hawk circling its prey. He tried to lighten things up by asking how the family was doing and he noticed how Della would avoid mentioning Scrooge when she replied. If the green triplet attempted to ask about his great-uncle, his mother would abruptly change the subject. This gave Louie cause for concern: what if Della never moved past what happened at the temple? What kind of consequences would follow? Louie had a sneaking suspicion that the reason they were still in the mansion was because Della had no other home and Donald was once again fixing his houseboat since it got damaged for the millionth time during his trip around the world with Daisy, May, and June. Louie didn't know which had suffered the most damage at this point: his uncle or that boat. Both appeared to have been struck by the same streak of bad luck.
The green triplet let out a gentle sigh as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Neither Huey nor Dewey was with him today: his mother refused to let his brothers join him. The only reason he was here was because Scrooge had already promised to let him swim in the money bin and after everything Louie had gone through, Della didn't want to spoil any enjoyment her youngest son had been anticipating. She didn't want him to go alone so she asked Webby to follow him. Louie didn't mind the company, but his mother's behaviour was scaring him: this was not how things were supposed to go.
Speaking of Webby… Louie looked around and saw that she had gone. Wondering where she went, he swam to the ladder and made his way up. He stuck his head out of the vault and found Webby sitting on the edge of Scrooge's desk, looking forlorn. Louie approached her and hopped on the desk.
"Everything okay, Webby?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"No," Webby replied. "Our family is falling apart."
"What do you mean?"
"I got a text from Dewey. Your mom is looking for a new place to stay."
"WHAT?" Louie yelled. "Why wasn't I told about this sooner?"
"Your brothers tried to reach out to you but you weren't responding," Webby said.
"And why didn't you come and get me the second you found out what was happening?" Louie demanded angrily, whipping out his phone. There were urgent calls and text messages from Dewey and Huey, telling him what their mother was doing. The green triplet must have not heard his phone while he was swimming in the money.
"I didn't want to ruin your fun," Webby said. "Sorry…"
Louie put his head in his hands. This was exactly what he had feared.
"We can't let this happen," he said. "Mom is making a huge mistake."
"But what can we do? I don't think Granny will be able to lay on the guilt like she did the time you were about to move to Cape Suzette. Della won't be fooled by it," Webby said.
"No, she won't. The regular stuff isn't going to work on her," Louie said thoughtfully, the wheels in his mind turning. "We need something with more impact."
Webby gasped. "I know that look," she said excitedly. "You're trying to come up with a scheme!"
"Indeed I am, Webbigail. And we're going to need all hands on deck," Louie said. "Think we can get out of here without Uncle Scrooge knowing? We both know he won't let us exit the money bin without him."
"We need to leave right now if we're going to slip past him. He's in a meeting with his new board of directors but it's almost over – I'm guessing we've got about two minutes before he reaches his office."
"Then let's get out of here. I'll call Huey and Dewey on the way downstairs while you arrange for Launchpad to drive us to Funso's FunZone."
"What explanation do I give?" Webby asked.
"Just say that Uncle Scrooge gave us permission to go there. Launchpad won't question it," Louie replied.
"Got it," Webby said as she jumped off the desk and whipped her phone out. Louie slid to the floor and led the way to the elevator. He was about to press the down button when a sound caught his attention. Looking up, Louie saw that the numbers above the elevator doors were changing. Scrooge was on his way.
"Quick, the stairs!" Louie exclaimed, grabbing Webby's hand. They ran to the door on the far side of the room. Just as they burst through the exit, the elevator dinged. Louie swiftly closed the door and chanced a peek through the window: Scrooge emerged from the elevator, looking worn out. The magnate appeared to have aged considerably ever since they came back home – the stress of his family falling apart at the seams was getting to him. It saddened Louie to see his great-uncle in such a state.
Scrooge looked his way and Louie quickly ducked, praying that his great-uncle didn't see him. He didn't wait to find out: he ran down the stairs, Webby following closely behind.
"Hello, Launchpad?" Louie heard her say. "We need a ride…"
Louie waited with Webby by Funso's entrance, watching the new McDuck Wheel by Duckburg Pier. After the disaster that was the Flintferris Glomwheel, the city decided to go with a more reliable company to build the new Ferris wheel. Scrooge had jumped at the chance and within a year the new wheel was complete. It became an instant hit: thousands of people rode the attraction every day with no fear of it breaking apart like its predecessor. The city and McDuck Enterprises were pleased with the outcome.
The limo pulled up and Huey and Dewey stepped out of the vehicle. When Launchpad had dropped Louie and Webby off at the restaurant, the former had requested that the pilot fetched his brothers from the mansion under the guise that they wanted to spend some quality time as a family. Touched by the notion, Launchpad wholeheartedly complied with the request.
"Seriously, Louie?" Dewey said as he and Huey walked towards them. "We're in the middle of a family crisis and you want to hang out at Funso's? We almost didn't come but Launchpad pretty much begged us to."
"Keep your shirt on," Louie said impatiently. "Yes, we are going inside Funso's. But it's so we can have a quiet place to talk."
"Funso's is the last place I would call quiet," Huey remarked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, Hubert. Thinking inside the box, as per usual," Louie said casually. "Come with me."
The green triplet led his brothers and Webby inside the restaurant. They walked past the games and the tables and went straight to the pirate ship. Louie climbed onto the edge of the ball pit, motioned at the others to follow, and dove inside the colourful sea. He swam down until he found the exit at the bottom, where he fell into an underground chamber. Smarting slightly, Louie got on his feet, only to be crushed by Huey, Dewey, and Webby.
"F.O.W.L.'s old headquarters? What are we doing here?" Webby asked in astonishment.
"Get off me and I'll tell you," Louie replied in a strained voice.
His brothers and Webby stood up. Louie did the same, massaging his aching back.
"Thanks for that," he deadpanned. "Don't think Uncle Scrooge is going to like paying for a chiropractor."
"To repeat Webby's question, what are we doing here out of all places?" Huey said, looking around. "Can't believe it's still standing."
"Well, nobody knew about it except for us and F.O.W.L.," Dewey said reasonably. "But seriously, Louie, answer the question."
"We need somewhere quiet where we can talk. A place that no one will ever think to look for us," Louie said. "What could be better than here? No one would consider that we'd hide where F.O.W.L. used to be."
"He's got a point," Webby said. "So are we just going to talk right here or…?"
"Of course not. Follow me."
Louie brought them down the series of corridors. It took a moment to remember where it was located, but the green triplet found the boardroom that held all of F.O.W.L.'s meetings. They all took a seat at the table, Louie at the head.
"All right," he said in a business-like manner. "We've got a serious problem on our hands. It has come to my attention that Mom is planning on moving out of McDuck Manor; in fact, she's looking at house listings as we speak. We need to put a stop to it now."
"But how? You know how Mom is once she's made her mind up: you can't get her to change it. That level of stubbornness runs in the family," Huey said.
"I'm fully aware. There are ways to persuade even the most hard-headed of people that they're wrong," Louie said. "It just takes some ingenuity."
"And what do you propose we do, oh mighty one?" Dewey asked in a derisive tone, his chin in his hand.
"We've got to get Mom and Uncle Scrooge to talk things out. It's the only way they'll patch things up," Louie told him.
"There's just one problem with that: Mom doesn't want to talk to Uncle Scrooge. She doesn't even want to be in the same room as him."
"Which is why we're going to force them to be in the same room together and have a proper conversation. They won't have a choice."
"How are we going to do that?" Huey asked.
"First, we need to find a place where they won't be disturbed. Any suggestions?" Louie replied, folding his hands on the table.
"Somewhere in the mansion. The kitchen?" Webby said.
"Too public – your grandmother works in there," Louie reminded her.
"What about our room? We could lure them in there and find a way to block the door from the outside," Dewey said.
"Excellent, Dewford. That'll work just fine," Louie said, giving an approving nod.
"But how are we going to get them in there? What reason could we come up with that would require both of them to be in our room at the same time?" Huey pressed on.
"Tempest in a teapot?" Dewey suggested.
"I could call Lena and have her whip up some magical force in your room," Webby added.
"Or," Louie intervened, "since I've been recently poisoned, we could pretend that the antidote didn't totally cure me. You can tell them that you've found me passed out on the ground and they'll come running."
"Simple yet effective. I like it," Huey said.
"What about Uncle Donald?" Dewey asked.
"We need to keep him out of the loop. He'll just ruin everything with one of his trademark freak outs," Louie answered.
"Now that we've figured out what we're going to do, how are we going to divide the tasks?" Webby said.
"I've already got that worked out," Louie said. "I'll be on our bedroom floor pretending to be unconscious; Dewey will distract Uncle Donald, don't care how he does it; Webby will get Uncle Scrooge; and Huey will fetch Mom. Once they're in the room together, Huey and Webby will lock them in – just make sure that whatever you'll use to barricade the door will already be on hand. We don't want to risk one of them getting out too soon."
"What about you? Are you going to stay with them?' Dewey said. "And I can distract Uncle Donald by destroying whatever progress he's making on his houseboat."
"Yes, I am. Someone will need to referee this fight and I'm the one to do it. It's because of me they've fallen out – I should be the one who mediates the situation," Louie informed him. He gave Dewey an impressed look. "That's perfect."
"That poor boat has seen much better days," Webby said. "So is that it? That's our plan?"
"Yep. Now all we have to do is go home and put it into motion," Louie replied, satisfied.
There was a text alert. They all checked their phones – it came from Dewey's.
"Mom has noticed we're gone," he said, reading the message. He looked at Huey. "She's demanding to know if we're at the money bin."
"You didn't tell her that you left the mansion?" Webby asked, blinking.
"How could we? She won't let us out of her sight," Huey replied. "It's like she's turned into Uncle Donald."
Another text alert. This one came from Louie's phone.
"Uncle Scrooge has realised we're absent as well," he told Webby. "He's demanding that we return to the money bin."
"You didn't tell him that you left either?" Dewey said in amusement.
"We were forbidden to leave his office. Don't think he wants to give Mom further incentive to leave," Louie replied, sighing.
"We should probably go," Webby said. "We don't want him to be angrier than he already is."
"When shall we enact this plan? Later today?" Huey said.
"Tomorrow. We don't want them to think something's up," Louie said.
"Don't you think they'll already be suspicious, considering how we've all run off without a word?"
"Uncle Scrooge won't tell Mom that we disappeared. She'll wind up hurting him."
"Fair enough. All right, then: tomorrow, we strike."
"Excellent," Louie said in approval. "We should spend the rest of the day getting ready for tomorrow. Especially you, Huey, since your acting skills are terrible."
"So it's settled," Dewey said as Huey glared at Louie. "Let's get out of here before the adults start a search party."
They got up and left the boardroom. Louie felt confident in their plan: he was certain that all Della and Scrooge needed was a good conversation, to let their grievances out once and for all. The green triplet had to be sure, for he didn't have a backup plan if this one failed. If they didn't succeed, perhaps they could convince Della to move somewhere near the mansion – Louie's hopes weren't high, though.