Author's note: I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed my story, and apologize for the LONG breaks between chapters (I'm such a procrastinator without a deadline)! But now this story is officially finished (and it only took a year)! So without further ado, I present the final chapter in the Stanley Cup saga…
It was an uneventful day at the pond, and the ducks were taking advantage of the rare opportunity to kick back and relax. In the rec room Wildwing sat reading a book, while his brother battled a horde of sludge monsters on his handheld video game. Mallory and Grin were engaged in a round of Puck chess, which usually took hours thanks to their evenly matched battle skills.
The doors whoosed open and Tanya stepped in. "Guys, have you seen Duke?" She asked.
"He left awhile ago. Didn't say where he was going," Nosedive replied.
"Yeah, and that bothers me," Mallory added. "He has the Stanley Cup with him."
Wildwing looked up from his book. "Mallory, I thought we were past this. Duke has proven his days as a thief are behind him."
"Hey, I trust Duke. I don't trust those lowlifes he hangs out with," Mallory replied.
"I'm sure everything will be fine," Tanya said. "Still, I wish he hadn't left already. The electronic chip in his eye patch is due for servicing."
**********
Duke Drove slowly down the deserted street, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. It was nearly pitch black except for the faint glow of the rusted and dented lampposts, which cast a sickly yellow light on the sea of crumbling buildings. He often came to this part of town when he needed information on a supervillian or Dragaunus. Though reformed, he knew that keeping one foot in the seedy side of life was useful. After all, it took a criminal to understand a criminal mind.
It also meant keeping a low profile, since not everyone in the neighborhood was happy having a Mighty Duck around. That was why he had "borrowed" Phil's car. In the back seat hidden under some blankets lay the Stanley Cup. Duke knew he would have to take extra precautions this time; normally he wouldn't think of bringing such a prize to this side of town, but he had no choice. He shut off the headlights and turned into a dark alley.
As he got out of the car his sharp ears detected footprints approaching from behind. He instinctively whirled around and grabbed his sword. Standing in front of him was a short rodent-faced human with greasy hair.
"Whoa, Patch, settle down!" The man threw up his hands. "It's just your old pal Ferret!"
"Ferret! What do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that?? Duke snapped, putting his sword back in its place.
"Me? I think you're a tad jumpy today. Better watch that, such tension causes high blood pressure."
"Your concern is touching," Duke replied, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm in a hurry so..."
"Hold up there, champ! I have some dirt that you will find most interesting."
"I'm not here to buy information today, I have a previous engagement." Duke replied.
"You can't afford not to buy!" Ferret cried, grabbing Duke's arm. "There's going to be a break-in at the 5th street bank tonight at midnight. Seems there's a valuable diamond being held in a safe-deposit box there!"
Duke shook Ferret off. "First of all, don't ever touch the threads! Secondly, I'm busy tonight! Go tell the cops!"
"The cops? There's no money in that!" Ferret replied, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Speaking of which, I believe you owe me payment for services rendered," the little man held out his hand.
"You're kidding," Duke replied, growing more annoyed by the second. "I told you I wasn't interested!"
"Hey, you listened to what I said," Ferret replied. "It's not like I can take it back from you. Now you best pay up or I shall be forced to call in a collection agent."
"Why you little…" Duke moved towards Ferret but was stopped in his tracks by a heavy hand clamping down on his shoulder. Duke looked over his shoulder and saw a hulking stone-faced man towering above him.
"Duke, meet Rocky, my collection agent," Ferret said. "Rocky, show Duke how we deal with deadbeats."
Suddenly Duke found himself flying through the air, landing squarely in a dumpster. Shakily he tried to get to his feet, but slipped on dumpster slime and fell backwards against the wall. At that moment he could hear a strange buzzing sound inside his head. Then to his horror his eye patch died.
Ferret's high-pitched voice echoed down the alley. "Maybe the duck's got something worth hocking in the car."
In a flash Duke was out of the dumpster, in a fighting stance with his sword ready. "Step away from the car!" He cried.
"Oooooh, we're quaking in our boots," Ferret laughed. "Get him, Rocky!"
Rocky pulled a piece of pipe from his coat and lunged at Duke. Duke blocked the swing with his sword and stepped to the right to avoid the full force of the blow. Rocky swung again and again, each blow harder than the last. Duke blocked with the skill of a master swordsman, but having only one eye made it more difficult. Then he caught a glimpse of something that could stop Rocky. Duke allowed the thug to push him back, further into the alley.
Suddenly Rocky's swing grazed Duke's shoulder with enough force to make him lose balance. Before Duke could regain his balance Rocky dealt another blow that knocked him off his feet. Duke's sword retracted. Rocky towered above him, with Ferret standing nearby grinning wickedly.
"End of the line, Duck," Ferret said. "You should have just paid me."
"And you should find smarter friends," Duke snapped. He hurled his sword into the air, straight at the fire escape above Rocky's head. The hilt hit the release, sending the ladder shooting down and right onto Rocky's head. Rocky fell to the ground, out cold. Wordlessly Duke got up, grabbed his sword and walked back towards Ferret.
"Hey, pal, I was just kidding. You can take a joke, right?" Ferret asked nervously. "Consider this a freebie, 'cause we're such good friends. Right? Good! See ya, good buddy!" Ferret raced down the street as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Duke walked to the car and got the Stanley Cup.
**********
The Stanley Cup seemed much heavier when Duke had to carry it up five flights of stairs. He walked down a dingy hallway until he arrived at apartment 5D. He put the Stanley Cup down and knocked. Behind the door were sounds of shuffling. For nearly five minutes Duke waited patiently. There was the sound of several deadbolts being unlocked, and then the door slowly swung open.
A withered old man with a kindly face stood in front of Duke. His eyes lit up. "Duke! You made it!"
"Hey, I wouldn't miss one of our visits for the world," Duke replied.
The man stepped aside. "Don't just stand there, come in!"
Duke stepped into the cramped apartment. Objects obtained over the old man's lifetime were crammed into every available inch of space; dusty books, record albums, old lamps and cracked collector's plates were piled everywhere. A threadbare chair and footrest occupied the remaining space. The walls were cluttered as well; snapshots of men in hockey uniforms stared out at Duke, as well as several framed medals. A fat grey cat trotted out from the kitchen area and went straight to Duke, meowing loudly.
"Hey, Chester, how's my big guy?" Duke asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a catnip mouse. He tossed it to the cat, who immediately began to bat it around. Duke set the Cup down next to the chair and after helping the old man into the chair, sat down on the footrest.
"Hockey's highest honor," the man sighed, "you must be so proud."
"It was a group effort," Duke said. "I'm proud of my entire team."
"I haven't been in the same room with the Stanley Cup in 30 years," the man continued. "When it was my turn, my buddies and I took the Cup barhopping in L.A. and woke up in Tijuana without the Cup. We eventually found it at an elderly couple's souvenir stand. Apparently we had swapped it for two dozen key chains." The old man chuckled at the memory, and then grew somber. "The problem with being on top is that there's nowhere to go but down. Moments like these are fleeting, Duke, savor every moment."
"I always do," Duke replied. "But I don't play hockey for fame or glory, and I get the feeling you didn't either."
"No," the old man replied. "But the fame and glory are nice perks."
The two laughed. Conversation turned to other things. Nothing worth mentioning here, but it meant a lot to them. Finally, as the watch hands approached midnight, Duke stood to leave.
"Well, it's been fun as always, pal, but I have to get going," Duke said. "There are some gentlemen I have to meet. They plan on taking something from the 5th Street Bank that doesn't belong to them."
"Same time next week?" The old man asked hopefully.
"You know it."
Duke took the Cup and headed back to the car. Soon he would thwart a crime and be back at The Pond in time for a midnight snack. He took a moment to reflect on the irony, as he had many times before; a former thief stopping thieves. They came to earth to capture an alien overlord, but most of the time they were stopping crimes committed by earthlings with brains the size of peanuts. And for what? Why risk their necks on a daily basis for a planet that wasn't even their home?
Duke started the engine and backed out of the alley. He cast one final glance up at the old man's window. It was all the answer he needed. He took off, ready to once again make Earth a little safer for all who lived there.
THE END
