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Parents were supposed to be role models, exemplars of adulthood to mold the putty of a child's mind. To a son, the father figure was especially important, for he was the truest paradigm of what it was to be a man.
His parents were villains. Gun-wielding, underhanded, murdering crooks. Drake Mallard trembled hysterically as he watched his own father, his personal paragon of manhood, cowardly point a gun at an unarmed owl who had been referred to as "Hooter".
He had been lied to his entire life. Drake's young and fragile mind reeled. Maybe this was the one truth he could grasp. There was no such thing as "good". Maybe he should evolve into a bad guy too.
Darkwing Duck awoke suddenly and promptly rolled off Morgana's couch. He sat up and rubbed the head he had managed to bang against the floor, noticing how heavily he was breathing. Each gulp of air rattled against his ribs.
A strange scent entered his nostrils. What was it? Eh, whatever, probably another one of the manor's abnormalities.
His eyes and face itched from sleeping with his mask on, so he slid his fingers under the purple cloth to massage away the discomfort. The late morning sunlight poured in through Macabre Manor's cobwebbed windows. Darkwing ambled to the nearest one, scratching his back and yawning lethargically.
The mallard leaned on the windowsill and peered out into the streets. It looked to be a bright, beautiful day. The sun shone gloriously in the baby blue sky. With summer just around the corner, things appeared to be looking up. Did he have anything on tap today? Oh yeah, there was a killer computer cow on the rampage. He almost forgot.
Like the sound of a dozen elephants Gosalyn stampeded down the stairs tailed by Eek, Squeak, and Archie.
"Morning Dad," the duckling said breathlessly as she whisked past him.
"What's the hurry, the government found a small colony of life forms cultivating under your bed at home?" Darkwing questioned casually.
"Nope, not yet. Morgana made breakfast, duh. Can't you smell it?"
Gosalyn charged into the next room. Darkwing Duck cringed.
--
Darkwing sat rigidly, eyeing the gurgling mass of food on the plate before him. The food eyed him back.
Gosalyn was busy wolfing down her plate of breakfast without a care. Morgana made herself a plate and sat down with it across from Darkwing. She gave the mallard a venomous smile and began to eat.
Aviana trudged into the kitchen drearily, pushing her messy, barely-combed hair out of her face.
"Morning," she grumbled lowly.
"Well, aren't you quite the early bird," Darkwng jibed lightheartedly, "Late night? Hey, wait, where's that fractious fraternizer with foulness?"
"You mean Negaduck? Oh…I have no idea…nor do I want to have an idea," the duckette answered groggily, an edge creeping into her voice.
"Now that's exactly the attitude I want to hear!" Darkwing chirped with a glowing face.
Gosalyn's red head perked up and she questioned while chewing, "Wont sum brerkfirst?"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Darkwing scolded quietly.
"Um, no thanks, I think I'll just be going," Aviana answered, not sure if the Morgana's 'scrambled eggs' had just twitched or she simply needed more sleep, "wouldn't want to impose. Call me on this watch thing if you hear anything about the eye."
"Which reminds me, I called J. Gander Hooter earlier. After getting over his initial shock that the durable Darkwing Duck was alive and kicking, he informed me that it's imperative that we get hold of the Devil's Eye and return it to SHUSH without a scratch. Huh, as if there was any doubt of its safety with me on the case," Darkwing spouted.
"Yeah sure, return it to SHUSH," Aviana muttered, dismissing it quickly.
The duckette was heading out of the kitchen. Darkwing's eagle eyes spotted opportunity floating in the air, and he quickly seized it.
"Hey, Aviana, want something for the road?" he cried a little too eagerly, dashing over to her and shoving his full plate of food into her hands.
"Thanks…Darkwing…" the duckette mumbled, watching the writhing meal warily.
Morgana slammed down her fork, making her breakfast squeal in pain. She glared at the crime fighter with burning eyes.
"Well Morg, how could I call myself a gentleman if I didn't offer her some victuals?" Darkwing said innocently, knowing that he would pay dearly for that later.
"Victuals," Gosalyn snorted, scooping seconds onto her plate.
The mallard and the sorceress began an intense staring match that the mallard lost miserably. Morgana smirked in satisfaction. Aviana and Gosalyn glanced awkwardly at each other and Aviana slid out of the kitchen.
--
Aviana entered what she hoped to be the foyer, but turned out to be none other than the library.
"Dammit," she cursed with annoyance, "I better not have to climb out the window again."
Like last night. Unable to find their way out of the fickle manor, she and Negaduck had to resort to a second story window. Aviana grimaced at the hole in her sweatshirt. Too bad the window tried to rip them to shreds on the way out. Then she grinned, recalling the sizable chunk taken out of Negaduck's cape and the look on his face when it happened. She scowled as further memories from the night before returned.
"Over-dressed weasel," the duckette spat to no one in particular.
Suddenly she heard a strange growling noise, akin to a mutated kitten.
"What the…"
Aviana lowered her head to see her scrambled egg rear and bare its fangs.
"Whoa shi – "
The food struck at her like a snake. Aviana yelped in shock and threw it out of her hands just as its tiny jaws snapped shut. The plate shattered on an aged, wooden table, and the belligerent omelette scurried out of sight.
Aviana stood still for a moment, wondering if her level on the food chain had just taken a dive. She shook her head and hastily began picking up the chunks of the broken plate. She was unsure about how fond Morgana was of her kitchenware, and that was all she needed – to be zapped into a zucchini or something worse.
The duckette hissed in pain as the sharp glass sliced into her finger. She immediately stuffed it into her mouth, sucking on the injury like a child. Red droplets of blood now adorned Morgana's table and various books and papers atop it.
She growled with frustration Hurriedly she attempted to wipe the papers clean, only to smear the red liquid.
"Ooookay, time for the 'run from your problems' tactic," Aviana muttered to herself, searching for a door, "What's this?"
Her eyes fell on the bloodstained parchment. It was yellowed with age, torn and crinkled at the edges. Written in an intricate scrawl was a mass of words in an ancient Transylvanian dialect. This rarely used language had been taught to the duckette – it was what every transcript pertaining to the Devil's Eye had ever been written in. Granted, learning the language had served her basically nothing until now.
Her eyes zipped back and forth as she desperately translated the words. Her heart raced. The missing part of the legend, years of fruitless searching, and it was all here on some random table. Or maybe not so random. The books and papers scattered on the table all seemed to be about the artifact. Morgana must have been doing some research.
Aviana had to question the sorceress, she had to get more information. A life of research had come down to this. Then again, perhaps coming to a witch who could mutate you in one blow with a broken plate and a bloodied ancient paper was not the smartest of ideas. Stuffing the paper into her cargo pocket, the duckette exited the library.
--
Darkwing's face looked as though a frustrated artist had chiseled it into stone.
"The evening news? Nothing. Newspaper? Nada. Police tipline? Zip. The hippies on the side of the street? Zilch. NO ONE knows anything on the whereabouts of Taurus Bulba! Honestly, how hard is it to find a massive robot bull with lasers?" the crime fighter fumed.
"Gee, dunno Dad," Gosalyn answered distantly.
The duckling's thoughts dwelled elsewhere. How was she going to convince her father to allow her to tag along? This had proved to be a tricky task in the past, let alone with Bulba. Maybe if she could get Morgana on her side…
"GOSALYN!"
"Wha-huh?" Gosalyn sputtered, snapping out of her plotting.
Darkwing raised an eyebrow and questioned sternly, "I was just asking you for the umpteenth time, how's your homework coming along little missy?"
"What homework?"
"What do you mean 'what homework?' The kind that the school assigned in order to expand your knowledge!"
"Oooooooh, yeah, that homework. Uh…"
Gosalyn glanced under the table where Archie sat amidst a slew of her homework papers.
"How's it goin' Archie?" Gosalyn whispered.
The arachnid picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it with his eight legs, and chucked it at her in response.
Gosalyn's head reappeared from under the table to see her father leaning forward and drumming his fingers, fixing her with a harsh stare.
"My homework's cool, Dad. Just about done. I don't see what's so hard about the Pythagorean junk anyway."
"Right…" Darkwing drawled.
Morgana Macabre drifted into the room, Eek and Squeak flapping alongside her.
"Does anyone know what happened to little Cornelius? He seemed terribly upset," Morgana questioned worriedly.
Gosalyn avoided her gaze, but Darkwing replied, "Not only do I not know what happened to your pet squid Morg, but I haven't the slightest inclination as to where Taurus Bulba is! I think I'll just call up Aviana and make a few rounds on the Ratcatcher."
Darkwing noticed the peeved look on Morgana's face.
"Care to join us?" he inquired irritably.
"No, I don't believe I will," the sorceress cooed while examining her nails, "I need to discuss something with my father."
Darkwing's fists tightened.
"What could you possibly need to discuss with that zombie?" he snapped.
Morgana returned "the look" once more.
"What concern is it of yours what I discuss with my family?" she snapped back.
"None whatsoever," Darkwing said pointedly.
The mallard tossed on his gray fedora and straightened his cape. Gosalyn quickly jumped off her chair, knowing the small actions were his cues to leave. It was now or never.
"Hey Dad, wait up!"
"Yeah Gos?"
"I was just wondering if I could – "
Darkwing's face hardened.
"No," he said flatly.
Gosalyn's jaw dropped and she cried, "How do you even know what I was going to ask?!"
"Gosalyn Gosalyn Gosalyn, you're very predictable in this field, dear," Darkwing tutted, "I'm sorry but I can't have you tagging along with me tonight."
"How come?" Gosalyn demanded.
"Because, most responsible parents would not permit their children to tangle with a crazy, murderous bull who can turn people into zombies. It's just not practical. Being a responsible parent myself, I am no exception to that rule," Darkwing stated calmly.
"You probably think I can't handle Bulba after last night! C'mon Dad, look at our track record, he hasn't whomped us yet!" Gosalyn retorted.
Darkwing frowned and said, "And YOU staying HERE rules out the possibility of any whomping!"
Gosalyn turned to the sorceress with pleading eyes.
"Morgana, don't you think I should go along to help Dad?"
Morgana bit her lip, sighing, "I'm dreadfully sorry Gos, but I'm concerned about your safety as well. I think it's best if you stay here, out of danger."
"I don't care, I'd be a whole lot safer with Taurus Bulba out of the picture, so I wanna help stop 'im!" Gosalyn declared.
"Listen young lady, we've had this conversation before. I don't know what it's gonna take to get you to realize that Bulba means business. I won't have you risking your neck if I can help it. Now, I promise you that justice will be served tonight or my name isn't Darkwing Duck – "
"It isn't," Gosalyn pointed out lowly.
"That's not the point!" Darkwing continued, "Okay…I'm going out to scout for the mechanical miscreant, and yooouuu are going to stay kaput. Kapische?"
"Sure, I'll just sit here bored outta my skull while you go slay zombies," Gosalyn muttered, turning to march out of the kitchen.
"Good, I'm – hey…"
Darkwing felt a tug on his cape. He looked down curiously and gasped.
"Morgana! Your floor is trying to swallow my cape!"
"Oh dear not again."
Morgana floated over to him, and the two scuffled with the floor. Gosalyn stopped and twisted around. They were completely distracted. The duckling grinned.
Gosalyn began tiptoeing past her father and the sorceress. Eek gasped and threw himself in front of her, squeaking madly.
"Relax, I've got a plan," Gosalyn whispered as she ducked past the bat.
Squeak rushed forward and grabbed her by a pigtail.
"Ouch! What?!" Gosalyn growled.
Squeak motioned to Gosalyn with one wing and to the struggling Darkwing with the other.
"I know what he said, but trust me, this'll work," Gosalyn assured.
The duckling snuck out of the room unnoticed by the two adults. Eek and Squeak exchanged nervous looks.
--
Aviana stuffed her hands into her pocket. The wind had picked up, making it unusually cool for a pre-summer evening. She craned her neck to read the street signs of the post she was leaning against. Yup, Hookbill and Howl Drive, exactly where he was supposed to meet her.
The distant roar of a motorcycle got louder until Darkwing Duck pulled the Ratcatcher to the curb. The engine purred hungrily, as if anxious to begin the hunt.
"Hop in!" Darkwing called.
Aviana hoisted herself into the sidecar and they sped off into the busy streets of St. Canard.
"There should be a helmet down there somewhere," Darkwing informed her.
Aviana reached down under the dashboard of the sidecar and picked up a helmet off the floor. She attempted to cram it on her head, but to no avail.
"How many passengers do you get that have heads this small?" Aviana questioned with a quizzical expression.
"That one's probably Gosalyn's. Dunno why her helmet would be in here though…" Darkwing murmured thoughtfully.
Aviana tossed the small helmet to the floor and muttered, "Well, just do me a favor and try not to be too bullheaded when you're driving."
"Speaking of bullheaded, you haven't seen everyone's favorite cyborg, have you? I can't even find a drop of motor oil!" Darkwing griped.
"Nope, not a clue," the duckette answered.
"When we do find him, we just have to be sure to safely recover that Devil's Eye. J. Gander really seemed to stress that. We'll just hand it over to SHUSH and finish this fully flustering fiasco."
Aviana nodded quickly, feeling a small balloon of guilt swell in her stomach. In an effort to change the subject she questioned, "So uh, do you know anything about Morgana's family by any chance?"
Darkwing scowled behind the visor of his helmet.
"More than I want to," he hissed.
"I mean her extended family, like a family tree sort of thing," Aviana said, pulling out one of the two pieces of parchment she had retrieved from the manor earlier.
Darkwing snatched the parchment out of her hand, scanning it over. His brow furrowed.
"What's the deal, I can't read any of this!" he cried.
"Of course you can't, it's an old language that isn't used anymore. There's not even a specific name for it; the language is pretty much useless. Figures I would learn it. Anyway, it talks about the history of the Devil's Eye that I never knew about, so I think it's the missing part of the legend. But I need to know about Morgana's ancestors," Aviana stated.
"If Morgana's ancestors are anything like the ones I've met…well, perish the thought. Sadly, and I use that term lightly, I never really got around to asking her about the rest of her dear family. All I know is that they've lived in a dump of a castle in Transylvania practically forever – "
Realizing that this chat held the potential to transform into a prolonged speech, Aviana leaned back and stretched out her legs. As she extended, her foot came in contact with something soft.
"Ow! Watch it!" came a muffled whisper.
Aviana yelped in alarm and tucked her foot back, shouting, "I think there's someone down there!"
"What? In Transylvania?" Darkwing asked her with a perplexed look, "Of course there are. They're called Transylvanians. Anyway, if you ask me, Morgana's family got quite a – "
"No! Down here, in the sidecar!" Aviana growled.
"Who could be…" Darkwing began, but realization slapped him in the face.
The crime fighter brought the Ratcatcher to a sudden halt that made Aviana nearly fly out of her seat. He reached beneath the dashboard of the sidecar. To Aviana's surprise, he pulled out a sheepish Quiverwing Quack.
"Uh, hiya Dad," she said with a small, nervous wave.
"GOSALYN 'I REFUSE TO LISTEN TO MY FATHER' MALLARD!" Darkwing bellowed, "Have you lost your mind?! What part of 'you're not allowed to come along' don't you understand?!"
"No, I didn't, I uh, just fell into the Ratcatcher…by accident…" Quiverwing sputtered weakly.
"You'll have to do better than that young lady, I wasn't born yesterday! Gosalyn, you are – "
"Darkwing, don't call me that when I'm Quiverwing – "
"Gosalyn, you are eleven years old – "
"Almost twelve – "
"And still, you insist on following a deranged murderer. That's not healthy! And on top of that, I told you one thing and you did the complete opposite. You disobeyed a parent! THAT WOULD BE IN DIRECT VIOLATION WITH THE TEN COMMANDMENTS!" Darkwing seethed.
"Yeah, but the cops always tell you to stop throwing crooks in jail and setting their parole without the police's consent, but you still seem to do it anyway!" Gosalyn countered.
"That's a new one," Aviana muttered.
Darkwing faltered guiltily for a moment before he regained his composure.
"Do as I say, not as I do!" he hissed, "Bulba's got the grudge with me, so I'll handle him – "
"How can you say that, did you forget about Grandpa?!" Quiverwing shrieked.
Darkwing's eyes narrowed and he continued, "I didn't forget about your grandfather Gos, I never will. It's just that you're too young! Now, for your complete disregard for my authority, you're grounded! Grounded times infinity! Grounded 'til cows fly – "
"DARKWING LOOK OUT!"
SLAM!
Darkwing felt as though a bulldozer had just smashed into the back of his head. Gosalyn dropped out of his hands and Darkwing rocketed forward out of his seat. He hit the sidewalk and rolled to a stop.
Darkwing laid on the concrete, his mind swimming. The shock gave way to fiery pain and he clutched his skull as if trying to hold it together. He could already feel a hefty lump swelling, a warm liquid oozing through his fingers. The mallard was barely aware of the frightened pedestrians stumbling over each other to escape. His eyesight was blurred and he strived to blink it away. Suddenly a large bull sporting robotic wings and a twisted smile hovered over him.
"Well, whaddaya know…a flying cow," Darkwing mused dreamily.
"Good evening, duck," came an accented reply.
Reality finally checked in to the hotel of Darkwing's mind. He had found Taurus Bulba – or rather, the other way around.
With a mechanized whir the cyborg replaced his glider wings for his arms and legs and dropped casually to the ground next to Darkwing. He leaned over the fallen crime fighter with a mad grin, holding his hands behind his back, making him look disturbingly formal.
"Well now, I am a bit surprised to see back in your regular form Darkwing. A pity, the undead style really suited you nicely," Taurus cooed.
"You should know by now Bulbsy," Darkwing jeered, valiantly pushing himself to his feet, "you can never keep Darkwing Duck down! Oof!"
Taurus Bulba lifted a heavy, metal foot and brought it down on Darkwing's chest, pinning him roughly to the cement.
"Oh yes, I believe I can keep you down," the bull chuckled.
Bulba leaned closer to Darkwing. His weight increased on the mallard's ribcage, pushing the air from Darkwing's lungs. He kicked and squirmed. Darkwing tried to push the weighty foot away, but it did not budge.
"Tell me Darkwing, now that I have your attention, how does it feel when the pressure is on?" Bulba asked in a voice coated with evil, driving harder on Darkwing's chest.
"GET OFFA HIM! NOW!"
Adrenaline pulsed through Quiverwing's body as she leapt on top of the bull. She clawed and kicked savagely at his face, trying to do as much damage as possible.
"Gos, get away from here!" Darkwing wheezed.
Bulba roared and glared harshly at the duckling, and his cyber optic eye narrowed on her dangerously. His stare drained the energy from Quiverwing. Her kicking and scratching slowly ended.
"Thought I'd just try and uh…that's a cool eye you've got there, heh heh…um…" Quiverwing trailed off feebly, finishing in a nervous gulp.
The bull peeled her off of his with his claw of a hand and held her at eyelevel. He reached into a hidden compartment in his armor and brandished the Devil's Eye. He held it high over Quiverwing, and the moon sparkled grimly n the black glass.
"This ought to take the spirit out of you!" Taurus yelled.
Aviana gasped as she saw the orb silhouetted against the milky-white moon. She lunged forward, latching on to the bull's outstretched arm. Bulba staggered off balance. His foot left Darkwing's chest, and the mallard swallowed a much-needed gulp of air.
"Give me that!" the duckette grunted, making a desperate reach for the Eye.
Bulba looked from Gosalyn to Aviana, dumbfounded at being assaulted twice in less than a minute. He raged, "What is this? I have had enough of this foolery! EGGMEN!"
Within seconds, no less than a hundred soulless eggmen had arrived at the scene. They poured from alleyways and buildings, leapt off of rooftops, crawled out of sewers. The cracking of their joints and the low grunts that escaped from their twisted beaks echoed in what seemed a hellish chorus.
Taurus beckoned to a group of especially burly eggmen. The drones lumbered forward, eager for his orders.
"Take these two nuisances to headquarters," the bull commanded, tossing Quiverwing and Aviana into their ghoulish arms, "Get them ready for the little surprise I have in store."
The eggmen silently assented and carried their two struggling captives down the street, moving at an alarming clip.
Bulba grinned and continued, "And I will deal with my dear friend Darkwing…what? Where did he go?!"
"Over here, beef breath!"
The cyborg whipped around, only to see Darkwing lob a capsule directly into his face. It exploded in a cloud of purple smoke. The next thing the bull knew his eyes were drooping…he was so tired…a quick nap would be nice…
Taurus Bulba's legs gave out beneath him, sound asleep and snoring before he hit the ground.
"Ah yes, big game sleeping gas, never leave home without it," Darkwing quipped.
He darted past the snoozing bull and hopped onto the Ratcatcher.
"Pleasant dreams!" Darkwing called to Bulba, and then sped off in the eggmen's direction.
He could see the gang of eggmen at the end of the street. Darkwing gunned the acceleration. He was gaining on them…
"C'mon Darkwing!" he heard Quiverwing call.
An eggman acknowledged her cry and turned around.
"Oops," Quiverwing said.
The eggman motioned to the others. They veered to the left and into a narrow alley. Darkwing knew where the alley led, he knew where he could cut them off.
Without sparing a glance at the traffic light Darkwing made a sharp turn to the left –
"YAAHHH!"
– Where an oncoming motorcycle awaited. Darkwing swerved to his right, as did the other motorcyclist. They clipped each other, and with the crime fighter's unnecessary speed it sent the Ratcatcher out of control and right into a public mailbox.
Smoke billowed from the purple bike's engine, the entire front of the vehicle crumpled. Darkwing gazed the mailbox he had managed to uproot.
"Darn postal service," he muttered.
For a split second he wondered about the other driver before he heard a familiar, disgruntled voice.
"MY WHEELS! All right, whoever did this, I'm gonna take your license and drive it right up your – YOU!" Negaduck cried.
"YOU!" Darkwing cried back.
"Look what you did Dumbwing!" Negaduck screeched, pointing back to where his motorcycle was bent around a lamppost.
Darkwing shook his head and shouted, "What are you doing here?!"
"Joyriding, right up until now! What are you doing here?!" came Negaduck's heated reply.
"I'm saving the lives of innocent citizens, and they're about to get away!"
"Who is?!"
"We are!" shouted a third voice
Darkwing and Negaduck followed the sound of the voice to the rooftops. There stood Taurus Bulba, fully awake and flanked by his eggmen, along with Quiverwing and Aviana, still wrestling with their captors.
"Way to go Fuzzy, he was just about to save us!" Aviana snapped down to Negaduck sourly.
"My deepest regrets, dear," Bulba announced, "but Darkwing Duck will not be saving anyone this night."
"By the time you find me Darkwing, it will already be too late," he said with a gesture towards Quiverwing, "I have underestimated you before but now you have miscalculated me. You will finally understand the agony you have bestowed upon me…and St. Canard will wallow in the failure of its, ahem, 'truest hero' and its 'public enemy number one'!"
Both Darkwing and Negaduck clenched their fists and leaned forward aggressively.
"Is that a challenge?" Negaduck hissed with a deep sense of resentment.
The bull sneered at him and shouted, "You had better believe it!"
With his words still echoing in the air, Taurus sprouted his glider wings and disappeared in the jungle of city buildings. The eggmen followed, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with unnatural speed and agility.
"No!" Darkwing shouted defiantly, streaking after them down the street.
Unfortunately, he was no match for the zombies on foot. The crime fighter snarled resiliently, "That belligerent bull may think he's won, but he's as wrong as a dropout on the SAT's! No one tops the supreme tracking abilities of Darkwing Duck!"
Darkwing whipped out his overlarge magnifying glass and bent close to the ground, muttering to himself. Negaduck rolled his eyes.
--
"Only the most nominal clue is all I need, the smallest drop of oil, the most miniscule shred of metal…"
Darkwing trotted in a winding path down the street, examining each and every crevice in the pavement.
Finally he straightened up and cried indignantly, "But it would help if he would LEAVE the most nominal clue! This is hopeless!'
Suddenly Negaduck bustled past him, confident of his destination.
"Where do you think you're going?!" Darkwing called, trying not to make his desperation too obvious.
Negaduck pointed wordlessly to the side. Darkwing followed his gesture to the window of a Radio Quack store, where a dozen TV's were displaying the St. Canard Late Edition News.
"This is Tom Lockjaw with tonight's breaking news. Taurus Bulba strikes again, this time atop the Gooseman Brothers Executive Building. Citizens watch in horror as…"
"I knew that," Darkwing grumbled to himself.
He jogged to catch up with his double. Negaduck seemed to ignore him. Not even a wisecrack escaped his beak. Darkwing's brow furrowed.
"Gee Negs, you seem unusually subdued. No petty insult? Not even a pathetic ridicule, perhaps?"
"Shut up Darkwing Dump."
"Oh c'mon, you can't expect me to believe that you're helping me out of the goodness of your heart."
Negaduck wheeled to face him, his beak barely inches from his opposite's face.
"I'm not helping you, I'm reestablishing my position, idiot! The guys back at the pub think I'm going soft…they think I'm helping you and Av – her. I've got my own agenda, so beat it!" Negaduck seethed.
"I can't beat it Negamuck, I'm going the same way!" Darkwing returned.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence. The night only seemed to drop in temperature; anyone who did not know better would mistake the late spring night for a brisk fall one.
Finally the Goosemen Brothers building came into sight. The hint of shadows moving on the rooftop made Darkwing's stomach churn. The two identical mallards ducked behind a parked car.
"Look at all of the eggmen guarding the entrance!" Darkwing whispered furiously.
"I'm not blind," Negaduck hissed.
Darkwing scowled.
"I know you're not! I'm just expressing my alarm!"
He wasn't lying. The building was teeming with grunting zombies.
"How am I supposed to save them now? There's no way we could infiltrate that place, even if we cooperated! No Morgana, no Launchpad, no SHUSH, no Justice Ducks…just you! Someone up there does NOT like me! Okay, I've got about five minutes to concoct a miraculous plan, so be quiet!" Darkwing cried hopelessly, thudding his head against the doorframe.
Negaduck drummed his fingers thoughtfully. He wanted to get up there nearly if not as bad as Darkwing did. What to do?
The thought hit him like a bolt of lightning. No, he couldn't, he wouldn't…but…
Negaduck's pride was berating him harshly, but he did his best to ignore it.
"Cool your jets Dorkwing," Negaduck began, fighting to get to words out, "I… man, I'm gonna hate myself for this…I already hate myself for this, but…I think I know who could help us."
NOTE: Two more chapters to go. So help me, I will get this mother done before the end of June.