Disclaimer: I am not the owner of these characters, I'm just the poor, sad soul who writes about them.
Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review, you're awesome!
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Negaduck banged his head against the adjacent wall wearily. A glance at the clock proved that he and Nega-Gosalyn had entered the fourth tedious hour of Parcheesi. At this rate he could WALK to the Negaverse faster than it took to gain her trust. Negaduck held his face in his hands.
"Does this game ever end?"
"Why, yes it does – but that's why it's such a wonderful game! It allows you to spend quality time with the ones you love!" Nega-Gosalyn replied.
"Please, someone. Shoot me now," the villain whimpered under his breath.
"Your turn!"
"Huh?"
"It's your turn to role the dice Negaduck!" Nega-Gosalyn announced cheerily.
The dice more or less fell out of his hand and Negaduck halfheartedly nudged his piece forward.
"Congratulations!" Nega-Gosalyn cried, "You've won the game!"
Negaduck's eyes widened.
"I did? I did! Hallelujah! It's over!"
"I knew you'd be excited!" Nega-Gosalyn said. With that, she leapt forward and hugged him tightly.
Once the shock wore off, Negaduck repressed the urge to scream out his wrath and instead tried to pry her off inconspicuously before anyone could notice.
"And that's why St. Canard Tower should be filled with mushrooms," echoed Quackerjack's voice from across the hall.
Negaduck cringed. The Fearsome Four. They were here. They were coming this way. If they saw him like this…
"Off-off-off-off-off-off!" he hissed to Nega-Gosalyn urgently, and she had barely loosened her grip when the Fearsome Four burst in.
"But Quackerjack, wouldn't mushrooms attract ants – "
Megavolt halted mid-sentence. There was a long, silent pause as the four villains stared at their leader with the duckling, and vice versa.
"Negaduck, the ultimate in awkward surprises!" Liquidator announced.
"What's going on, John?" Mr. Banana Brain asked.
Negaduck scowled and snapped sarcastically, "I'm alphabetizing my spice rack. What do you care what's going on! Mind your own pathetic business! Get out! Out out OUT!"
The Fearsome Four quickly scurried out of the room. The black-masked mallard sighed and, to Nega-Gosalyn's astonishment, waved in a meaningless direction.
"What are you doing Negaduck?" she asked.
"Oh nothing, just waving goodbye to my dignity," he replied.
Darkwing Duck felt the wind gust by him like the forceful gasps of a drowning man. He tugged his cape around him, more for security than warmth.
Out of nowhere he realized he was atop the St. Canard Tower. The city surrounded him, blurred and obscure as it was.
A swell of panic rose in Darkwing. He looked around, only to see a figure – another duck by the looks of it – standing at the edge of the building, arms spread wide, knees bent.
"Don't jump!" the crime fighter screamed desperately, "Come back here, where it's safe!"
A shrill shriek yanked his attention from the jumper. Darkwing felt as though he had stepped back in time three years – Hoof, Mouth, and Hammerhead were sneering at him, Taurus Bulba stood next to the Waddlemeyer Ramrod and, worst of all, Gosalyn was suspended in the air by that butt-ugly bird.
Taurus nodded, and the condor released Gosalyn into a freefall.
Darkwing remembered what to do next.
"You butcher!" he yelled at Bulba, then jumped in for a webkick in the gut. The bull doubled over, giving Darkwing the chance to land a blow on his head. Heh heh, felt just as good now as it did three years ago.
The mallard whipped around. Gosalyn was falling, but not to worry…any second now Launchpad would appear with the Thunderquack…yup, any second now…
He didn't come. She kept falling, faster and faster…
"NO!"
Drake cried out in anguish, ringing his cape in his sweaty hands. Wait a minute, he wasn't ringing his cape, he was ringing his bedsheets…
He was in his room, in his bed, merely woken from a nightmare. Drake jumped when he heard a knock on the door.
"Come in."
Launchpad appeared with a cheery smile on his face.
"Better late than never," Drake snarled, still shaken by his dream.
The pilot frowned in confusion.
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger DW, Herb just wanted to know if you could help them carry some boxes and furniture. Binkie's making Salmon a la King for dinner, and we can have some if we help out!"
"Tell them I died. Or got the bubonic plague. Or was eaten by gophers. Anything LP, just tell them NO."
"But we don't have gophers around here – "
"Fine, fine! I'll just go! Jeez Louise…"
Launchpad scratched his head as Drake pushed past him, muttering to himself. Clearly his friend had forgotten one very important detail.
"Hold your horses there pal – don't you know what day it is?" he called after Drake.
"One I'll probably loathe in years to come!" came the heated reply.
Drake and Launchpad marched out the front door, the former scowling, the latter smiling.
"Gee Drake, maybe you shouldn't stay up past your bedtime," the pilot joked slyly.
He received a glare as a reply as they rounded the fence.
"Lighten up DW, Herb needs Drake's help just as much as St. Canard needs Darkwing's," Launchpad whispered.
"I won't lighten up, I'll darken down thank you very much! St. Canard isn't a nasty nuisance of a neighbor. Why me, why!" Drake moaned.
"Don't you think you're being just a bit, ya know, dramatic?"
"Dramatic? Ha! Try downtrodden!"
They zigzagged their way past the boxes and into Herb's yard.
"Mallard and McQuack, reporting for duty!" Launchpad announced with a mock salute to Herb Muddlefoot.
"HEY neighbors! Glad yer awake there Drakester!" Herb's voice boomed.
The mallard cringed.
"Hi Herb."
"We was just loadin' the moving van!"
"Moving van?" Drake repeated, "But Herb, isn't your new house only two yards away?"
The large duck nodded.
"Quite a hike ain't it? Okay then – me, Tank'n Launchpad'll get the heavy furniture, you can just help Honker with the little boxes, okay Drakerooni?"
Drake opened his beak to object but Herb clapped him on the back forcefully.
"GREAT! Remember, lift with your knees! C'mon Launchpad, we'll start with the hot tub!"
Launchpad looked back at Drake and shrugged as Herb led him away. Drake stalked toward the pile of boxes.
"I don't believe this – me, Darkwing Duck, thwarter of villainy, bringer of justice, the world's best crime fighter through and through – and I'm stuck moving junk from one yard to the next. And how on earth do you 'lift with your knees' anyway!"
Drake stopped when he heard several nasal grunts. To his surprise, he saw a large box with two little arms wrapped around it and two little webbed feet sticking out the bottom, teetering towards him. Drake rushed forward and snatched up the box before it toppled over.
"Thanks Mr. Mallard," Honker Muddlefoot breathed, glad to be rid of the box.
"No problem Honkman," Drake replied, "I see you got stuck with box duty too?"
Honker nodded and picked up a smaller box. He and Drake began making their way to the moving van.
"So, is Gosalyn feeling any better?" Honker asked.
Drake's brow knitted.
"Feeling any better? Since when was she sick!"
Honker returned a similar look.
"Well, when she got off the bus she said she wasn't feeling well and then she went home. It was a little out of the ordinary, even for Gosalyn."
"Hold the phone – you mean to tell me that Gos didn't go to school today?"
"Um, well, n-no – "
"WHAT!" Drake screeched, dropping his box with a loud crash.
Honker tugged on the edges of his shirt nervously and sputtered, "I – I – I didn't mean to get her in t-trouble, she j-just told me she was going home!"
Drake began tapping his foot irritably.
"Something fishy is going on here, and I don't mean your mom's Salmon a la King," he hissed, then turned on his heel and marched back to his house.
Potato chips sprayed everywhere as Gosalyn Mallard tried to stuff another handful in her mouth whilst jumping on her bed.
"You're sure you don't mind me eating in my room and jumping on my bed?" the hyper duckling asked.
"Of course not," Mr. Waddlemeyer replied, "any real father would appreciate his daughter's idea of fun."
"Tubular! Darkwing would totally go nuclear on me if he caught me doing this!"
"Huh, some father."
"It's one of his stupid 'rules.' He's got a ton of 'em – eat your vegetables, brush your teeth, be polite, do you chores, don't talk to strangers, no digging up the yard for dead bodies!"
"That's awful!"
Gosalyn nodded forcefully.
"You're telling me! And I always know when I'm in trouble when he yells – "
"GOSALYN MALLARD!"
The redhead was so startled she fell off her bed in mid-bounce.
"What!" she snapped crossly.
"What do you mean 'what'?" came Drake's muffled voice from behind the door.
She heard him jiggling the doorknob.
"Gosalyn! Open this door immediately!"
Grumbling, Gosalyn pushed herself to her feet and unlocked the door. Suddenly her eyes widened as Drake proceeded to storm in.
"Wait don't pull it open too fast or you'll set off the – " she began wildly.
The instant Drake flung the door an arrow shot forth and suction-cupped itself to his forehead.
" – intruder trap," Gosalyn finished.
Drake growled and tried to yank the arrow off his head. He grunted and pulled with both hands but the arrow stayed put. Muttering under his breath he continued, "As I was going to say…I see that at twelve years of age, you deem yourself eligible to forego you education, is that right?"
Gosalyn gulped. He found out.
"I uh, felt…sick…" she tried pathetically.
Her father glared at her while still tugging at the arrow.
"You expect me to believe that? C'mon Gos, what on earth were you thinking? Skipping school – you're turning into a regular hood!"
"I'm not a hood!" Gosalyn retorted angrily, "Jeez, so I missed one day, what's the big deal? It's not like I woulda learned anything…"
"What's the big deal? You broke the law! It's truancy!" Drake yelled.
"Truancy? What the heck is that?"
"Maybe you would know if you went to school."
"I'm a kid! Kids are supposed ta' have fun, not sit all day in stuffy, ugly classrooms that smell like old cheese – "
"Look Gos, I don't wanna hear it," Drake cut in, "and in case you haven't guessed: you're grounded. Now go to your room!"
"Fair enough," Gosalyn replied sweetly, shutting her bedroom door.
Turning and clapping his hands triumphantly, Drake was just about to go downstairs before he remembered the key fact that Gosalyn was already in her room and glad of it. He whipped around and hurled the door open – only to have another arrow plaster itself to his forehead.
Gosalyn suppressed a snicker and cooed, "Yeeesss?"
Drake scowled beneath his crown of arrows.
"I revoke my last punishment. You're not grounded – I'm just doubling your chores for a week."
"What?"
"With no allowance," he added.
"WHAT!"
Gosalyn's jaw dropped. He had to be kidding!
"You make the bed you lie in Gos," Drake testified calmly.
"What are you talking about? I didn't make my stupid bed!"
Drake shook his head and muttered, "No no no, it's an expression – but that'll be one of your chores by the way."
"Thanks for the heads up Darkwing," Gosalyn replied sarcastically.
Clearing his throat, Drake said with great clarity, "Gosalyn. Repeat after me. Secret. Identity."
The duckling rolled her eyes.
"Chill out, it's not like anyone's here."
The mallard blinked. Why wouldn't she just call him 'Dad' like she always did? Maybe it was just a phase?
"Er, okay Gosalyn, well, no more skipping school or you'll end up like that hobo by Hamburger Hippo," Drake finished weakly, "so uh, remember: one week. Double chores. No allowance."
With that, Drake made his way downstairs to figure out a way to dislodge the arrows.
"One week. Double chores. No allowance," Gosalyn mocked before slamming her door shut.
She marched to her bed and sat down huffily.
"This is so totally not fair! I missed one day and the 'warden' over here acts like I dropped out of school!"
"This is a travesty! I, your true father, would have never castigated you in such a manner," Mr. Waddlemeyer asserted.
Gosalyn, in youthful anger, grumbled, "I know, I real Dad wouldn't."
Drake Mallard stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room, pushing past his sidekick as he did so.
"Wait up DW, I – what's with the arrows?"
"Two words: intruder trap."
"Oh. Anyway, I have something for you!"
"If it's Binkie's Salmon a la King I DO NOT want it!" Drake snapped.
Launchpad shook his head and returned, "No, I think you'll like this a lot better…"
"Not now LP," Drake barked with determination, "this is turning out to be a particularly horrendous day, and I need to find something to get these stupid arrows off…I'm pretty sure I left the Jaws of Life in the tower…"
"But it'll only take a minute," Launchpad pleaded.
Drake plopped into his blue chair.
"No way compadre! I also need to make peace with myself – by fighting! Crime, that is. A good night on the prowl will do wonders for the ol' blood pressure. Besides, I have no time for trivial treasures when there's troublemakers to trounce! You can have the night off pal, I'll take this one!"
Launchpad watched as his friend disappeared with a punch and a spin. Why was he the one getting the night off?
Nega-Gosalyn took one last reassuring look at the only calendar she could find – Bushroot's fertilizer planner. Yep, today was the day.
The duckling pressed her ear to the door. Low grumbling sprinkled with swear words undoubtedly meant that Negaduck was in the room. She knocked on the door daintily.
Negaduck's muffled voice roared, "Bushroot I don't CARE if my dogs ate one of your ugly plants again – "
"It's me, Gosalyn."
"Oh. Uh, come in kiddo!"
Nega-Gosalyn entered slowly, a wide grin on her face.
"What?" Negaduck asked suspiciously.
"It's your birthday."
Negaduck froze.
"Is not – I don't have a birthday," he blurted.
Nega-Gosalyn handed him Bushroot's planner and retorted, "Do too, and today's the day. Happy Birthday Negaduck!"
The villain held the planner close to his face. So it was true. It really was his birthday. He had completely forgotten. In fact, he had completely forgotten for ten years.
"After you disappeared from the Negaverse I found your old NRA application and it had your birthday on it, so now that I know when it is, we can celebrate it every year!" Nega-Gosalyn exclaimed.
Negaduck rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the date. He never could understand why people would celebrate getting another year older because of an event they couldn't even remember. Sentimental sap. Today was no different from yesterday for all he cared. Years were insignificant now – Negaduck felt as though from the day he had first fastened on his black mask up until this very moment had been solidified into one, long year.
"Look, I'm not a real birthday kinda duck," he began.
Nega-Gosalyn gave an imaginary sigh.
"Oh well, I guess I'll have to find someone else to give this present to then…"
The masked mallard asked in spite of himself, "Present?"
That was the pitfall of years of no birthdays – years of no presents.
With a satisfied smile Nega-Gosalyn revealed a round object wrapped in pink tissue paper and bound with an even pinker ribbon. Negaduck raised an eyebrow but accepted the gift nonetheless. His hand sagged for a moment; it was heavier than it looked. The object was no larger than a softball and he could sense the cool smoothness of glass beneath the paper.
Negaduck managed to contain a small spark of childish excitement as he unwrapped his first birthday present in years. The top half of the pink paper drifted silently to the floor as his eyes widened.
It was a brilliantly white orb. Sparkling mists swirled within like writhing wraiths, giving it the impression that it was never still. It was so white and pure it was as though he held a star in his hand.
Negaduck removed the last scrap of paper from the orb – and the instant his fingertips made contact with its stony exterior a deluge of images flooded his mind…flying down the streets aboard his motorcycle on a crisp, spring night, not a care in the world…
The mallard inhaled sharply. Nega-Gosalyn mistook his silence for anger and babbled, "I didn't know if you'd like it, I know you like expensive things and it looked like it was kinda valuable like a big jewel or something – "
"No no, cool it, it's okay…" Negaduck murmured.
He was lost in thought. The orb, the rush of memories; everything was so bizarrely familiar. Then it hit him – the Devil's Eye. It was exactly like the Devil's Eye, save for it was white instead of black, and those memories were happy ones, not hellish ones.
"Where did you get this?" Negaduck asked quietly.
Nega-Gosalyn fidgeted but replied resolutely, "Morgana was doing another one of her raids – back in the Negaverse, I mean – but the Friendly Four stopped her, and she left this behind and I've had it ever since."
Negaduck nodded, the glow of the sphere reflecting in his eyes. If the Devil's Eye fiasco had taught him anything, it was not to let this thing go unnoticed.
"I'm sorry if you don't like it, I'll get rid of it," Nega-Gosalyn gushed apologetically.
"No, I like it. Good find, kid," Negaduck said, the first truth he had spoken to her since her arrival.
Nega-Gosalyn smiled happily up at him.
Darkwing Duck was just realizing how difficult pulling on a turtleneck was when you had two arrows stuck to your forehead when Morgana suddenly appeared in the tower.
"Ah ha, there you are Dark, I was looking all over for – Dark?"
"Hull un wun seckon!" he shouted through his shirt.
Morgana raised an eyebrow as Darkwing finally managed to pop his head out.
"Arrows?" she asked curiously.
"Intruder trap."
"Ah."
"And I can't…get…these blasted things…OFF!" the crime fighter yelled while tugging on them.
"Here, let me do it, that's simple…" Morgana replied.
Darkwing blinked as the arrows vanished in a puff of green smoke and transformed into two, rigid snakes. The reptiles became limp and fell at his feet.
"Yipes!" the mallard yelped, "Morgana, why'd you turn them into snakes!"
"Relax, they're not that poisonous," Morgana muttered, scooping them up and letting the snakes slither away down the steel cables of the bridge.
Darkwing straightened his jacket and fastened his cape. To his horror, a long rip festooned the purple cloth. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh.
"Oh, the somber sorrow of the sufferer who sings a sad song! Woe is me!"
Morgana rolled her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"This is only the worst day in the history of duck-kind, that's 'what's wrong!' I still haven't found Negaduck, and today I had to get up early to help Herb move his entire stinkin' house, only to find out that Gosalyn skipped school, and then I'm nearly shot to death by arrows! Why me!" he wailed.
"Oh Darkwing, don't be such a drama queen!" Morgana snapped, "How early did you get up?"
"Um, four o'clock in the afternoon-ish…"
"How much of Herb's stuff did you actually move?"
"Er, well, one box – but it was a heavy one!"
"Did Gosalyn learn her lesson?"
"I guess so…"
"Are you lying dead on the floor due to a fatal arrow injury?"
"Uh…not really, no."
"There, see? It's never as bad as you blow it out of proportion to be. And I bet you don't even remember what day it is," Morgana said soothingly.
The mallard dashed over to his file cabinet and shuffled through the mass of papers, causing several to drift to the floor in his frenzy.
"Everyone keeps asking me that! It's not tax day is it? Where's my calendar…"
Darkwing felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned around and the sorceress placed a small vial wrapped with a black bow in his hands.
"What's this for?" he asked quizzically.
"Why Darkwing Duck," Morgana laughed with false disapproval, "don't you know? It's your birthday."
"It is?"
"Yes, it is. Right after Gosalyn's – would have helped if you had remembered hers to begin with, but still, happy birthday Dark."
Darkwing grinned. Ha, it was his birthday. And to think he never believed it when people told him he was absent minded.
"Thanks Morg," the crime fighter said with a sheepish grin, then glanced at the light blue fluid in the vial, "What is this stuff anyway?"
"Liquid Levitation. One squirt and you'll be lighter than air. In other words, you can fly," Morgana replied cheerily.
Darkwing's eyes lit up.
"No kidding – this juice makes me fly! Ha, gravity, I scoff at thee!"
He leapt onto the tower windowsill and exclaimed excitedly, "All right St. Canard, wait'll you see a duck that can actually fly!"
"No Dark!"
Morgana grabbed his cape and yanked him back in.
"Liquid Levitation is very rare. There are only two doses in that vial, and the effects are only temporary. I thought it might help you if you're ever in a sticky situation," she informed quickly.
"Ah, got it. Heh heh, I am so going to use this on Negaduck, I can't wait to see his face when he thinks I'm cornered, but he'll be sorely mistaken…"
As Darkwing Duck babbled about a victory over Negaduck that had yet to occur, Morgana felt the slight flutter of paper beneath her. She stooped to pick up one of the many scraps Darkwing had scattered all over his hideout. The sorceress was just about to leave it on his desk when the print caught her eye…it was written in Transylvanian…
"Dark darling, where did you get this paper?" she asked calmly.
Darking glanced at the paper and muttered, "What? Oh, that. I got it last spring during that whole Bulba escapade, it had something to do with that Devil's Eye curse or whatnot, you can have it if you want it…as I was saying, I'll be flying over Negadope's head, but I'll have water balloons you see, and I'll stick 'em in my gasgun and shoot at him from above…"
Morgana folded up the paper and stuck it in her hair for safe keeping, listening to Darkwing's fictitious triumph over his rival.
The pink and orange hues gave way to an ominous mix of blue and purple before becoming a black, starless midnight. The windows of St. Canard glowed with yellow light, illuminating the countless buildings. Save for one. Only the innermost rooms of the Fearsome Five's hideout were lit as to avoid detection. They glowed the multi-colored motley of Christmas lights. Those were the only bulbs fit to work because they had slaved less than normal lights, according to Megavolt.
Thunk!
A butcher knife landed heavily on the worn dartboard. With Nega-Gosalyn asleep, Negaduck found it time to unleash any concealed rage he still possessed.
Naturally, the Fearsome Four kept a safe distance from their boss and lounged in the so-called Rec Room. Bushroot worked on a crossword puzzle, Megavolt busied himself with stripping wires, while Liquidator and Quackerjack competed over an episode of "The Price is Right."
"Megavolt, what's a six-letter word for 'walk' that starts with 'w'?" Bushroot drawled.
"Amble?" the rat tried.
"Six letters. Starts with 'w'."
While Megavolt continued to ponder, Quackerjack's and Liquidator's competition grew more heated.
"She was closer with the Meyer brand pork rinds, Barker even said so!" Quackerjack yelled.
Liquidator glared at him and objected, "An old Barker makes for a crazy Barker! He's wrong, it's the D. Castellaneta brand!"
"Meyer!"
"Castellaneta!"
"SHUT UP!" echoed Negaduck's voice from the other room.
"Sorry boss!"
Grumbling expletives under his breath, Negaduck made his way down the hall. Those idiots, what a bunch of brainless, numskulled, imbecilic sons of –
The villain came to a halt in front of Nega-Gosalyn's door. He could scarcely hear her muffled voice…whimpering, almost sobbing…
Eh, she must be having a nightmare. Big whoop. Negaduck was just about to leave before a thought struck him. As much as it pained him to do so, being there for her after a nightmare would earn him some major miles on the road to the Negaverse.
Repeating for the umpteenth time that this was for his hometown, Negaduck slipped inside. A dusty string of flickering red Christmas lights made the small room look as though it were on fire. To Negaduck's surprise, Nega-Gosalyn was standing upright on her pull-out bed, completely motionless. Her head was bent low, and each breath she took rattled in her chest.
"Man, must've been one helluva nightmare," Negaduck muttered.
He sauntered to the edge of the bed.
"Okay kid, it's late and I'm tired, so don't worry. It was just a bad dream, yadda yadda yadda – "
"Bad dream?" Nega-Gosalyn growled quietly, "You do not know the half of it."
Negaduck rolled his eyes.
"Cute. Now go back to sleep."
He turned to leave, but a low, menacing voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Where are you going, Darkwing Duplicate?"
The masked mallard whipped around, the feathers on the back of his neck rising. Nega-Gosalyn was staring at him now. Eerie red waves of light cast ghastly shadows over her cloudy, unfocused eyes.
"This other Goosalyn is quite different," Nega-Gosalyn said in the strange tone, "different memories, different nightmares…but oh, how nicely she will fit into my plans."
Negaduck gulped. This was the same thing that had happened to Bushroot; same unmistakable voice, same incomprehensible visage – but why Nega-Gosalyn?
The duckling took a disjointed step towards him and snarled, "And you! I feel that I hate you nearly as much as your annoying double! Now, I will ask you for the last time, where are the pieces!"
"And I'll tell you for the last time, I have no flipping idea what you're talking about!" Negaduck retorted, feeling silly for yelling at something he wasn't sure existed.
"LIES!" the voice in Nega-Gosalyn roared.
The red lights flickered faster as her face split into a frighteningly evil grin. With the tiny bulbs imitating the light of flame over her face, her wreath of fiery red hair and fiendish smile made the once sweet little girl resemble a veritable demon.
"Nothing will stand in my way, not even your pitiable deceits!" she bellowed.
"Holy – !" was all Negaduck could get out before the duckling lunged at him with a beastlike growl. He quickly ducked and Nega-Gosalyn grasped nothing but air. Scrambling on all fours, Negaduck made a wild effort for the door. Nega-Gosalyn leapt with unusual intensity between him and his only escape and slammed the door shut.
"Nowhere to run Darkwing's double," she hissed sadistically.
Negaduck felt his temper rising in spite of his shock.
"Look whoever you are, I'm giving you about five seconds before I – ACK!"
Nega-Gosalyn latched her unnervingly cold hands around his neck. He tried to push her off, but she squirmed out of his grasp.
While Negaduck tried to get over the fact that he was being choked by Nega-Gosalyn of all people, he felt one of her hands shuffling beneath his cape. The next thing the mallard knew, his possessed protégé had the cold steel of his own gun pressed against his forehead.
"Okay, I meant it when I said that I never wanted to be killed by something pink," Negaduck sputtered.
"Ah, I see the power has shifted," Nega-Gosalyn cooed, "now the little girl frightens the big bad villain, heh heh heh. Now, about those pieces of the Devil's Eye…"
Negaduck swallowed. His right hand remained tense, ready to swat away the gun before she, or it, could blow his brains out. But that gun was damn close, it didn't allow a lot of reaction time. He could hear the Fearsome Four shouting something in the other room, completely oblivious to the psychotic little girl and her stunned guardian – but then he heard a much more frightening sound, the click of the safety –
"GOSALYN!" Negaduck screamed in a last ditch effort, the word feeling almost foreign.
"WADDLE!" shouted Megavolt triumphantly from across the hall.
"MEYER!" Quackerjack yelled not an instant later.
After the bizarre sequence of those three words, Nega-Gosalyn blinked and her eyes returned to their normal brilliant clarity.
"What happened…" she murmured in her own voice, until she noticed what was in her hand. With a strangled shriek she flung the weapon to the floor as if it had burned her. She let go of Negaduck and staggered backwards, visibly shaking. This was terrible, she had been holding a gun – and pointing at him!
Negaduck stared blankly ahead in thought. That Devil's Eye thing had been a done deal, hadn't it? What was all this talk about it now – and why did that talk have to come from Nega-Gosalyn's mouth in a voice that she didn't own? And the nightmares, the hound, the two-headed bird – it was if his life was one big, nasty episode of "The Twilight Zone."
Meanwhile, Bushroot scribbled the word 'waddle' into the blanks of the crossword puzzle.
"Behold, Megavolt, master of crossword clues!" the rat proclaimed.
Quackerjack and Liquidator watched "The Price is Right" contestant pick up her prize.
"Told you it was the Meyer brand," Quackerjack said, sticking out his tongue.
NOTE: Sorry for the wait, but you know the spiel – I was busy, blah blah blah. But nevertheless, stay tuned, some interesting things are on the rise… :leans back in computer chair, laughing maniacally: …and to those of you who are confused: yes, it's true, I WILL actually explain what's going on. Eventually.