"So, Oliver," Darkwing said as they flew over St. Canard. "Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?"
"Well, I'm the third generation of my family to fight criminals for a living," said Oliver.
"Interesting," Darkwing says.
"I arrived in Forest City and set up shop there three years ago," the swan continues. "I haven't had much success in catching bad guys there, though."
"I can understand," said Darkwing. "Though I usually don't like to admit it, things were pretty tough for me when I first started out."
"Oh?" said Oliver.
"Yes," Darkwing said. "Everyone thought I was a joke at first, but I went out and showed them that Darkwing Duck is for real."
"I know," said Oliver. "It seems you get mentioned in the papers every day."
"Glad to know that word of my heroic deeds has reached even to lowly Forest City," Darkwing said.
"So, Olly," says Darkwing. "What brought you to our fine country?"
"I wanted to go somewhere where my services would be appreciated," Oliver responded.
"And they weren't being appreciated in England?" asks Darkwing.
"Not in the slightest," the swan says. "It seems the police just couldn't handle the competition."
"Well, that's just stupid," Darkwing remarked. "Anybody who wants to help should be welcome."
"Right you are," Oliver said.
Just then, the Thunderquack touches down. They had arrived at the museum once more. Oliver and Darkwing then step out of the plane. Launchpad, however, remains in the craft.
"And here she is," Oliver says, pointing to his car, and old white sedan with slight rusting and dents in several spots.
"This is it?" asks a surprised Darkwing. "I was expecting something a bit fancier."
"I like to keep things low key," Oliver said. "The Swanmobile doesn't look like much, but she gets me where I need to go."
"The Swanmobile?" Darkwing says with a laugh. "That's the lamest thing I've ever heard!"
"At least it's not purple," Oliver remarks.
"And what's wrong with purple?" asked Darkwing.
"Never mind," said the swan. "Let's get going." He then started for the driver's side of the car when Darkwing stopped him.
"I'm driving," the duck demanded.
"OK," Oliver says handing Darkwing the keys. "Just take it easy."
"Don't worry, I will," Darkwing replied.
"So long, DW," Launchpad said. "These last 13 years have been pretty darn fun."
"I'll miss ya, pal," Darkwing said to his longtime friend and assistant.
"I'll miss you, too," Launchpad said, his eyes slightly welling up with tears. "Good-bye." He then closes up the plane and takes off.
Darkwing waves good-bye to his friend and stands watching the Thunderquack leave. He then starts sobbing. "I'm really gonna miss that guy..." He stares up at the sky.
"Then why did you let him go?" Oliver asks.
"He has things he wants to accomplish, and he just can't do them around here," Darkwing said, wiping tears from his eyes.
"But you two seem so close..." Oliver says.
"Yes," Darkwing says. "We've been through so much together."
"I'm sure you'll see him again soon," said Oliver. "I think we'd best get going."
"Yeah," Darkwing says. He then gets into the car. Oliver climbs in as well. Darkwing starts up the engine and they race off into the night, which was rapidly turning into morning. Oliver watched out the window as the city of St. Canard zipped by. The imposing urban skyline would soon give way to forest and then to a suburban residential neighborhood.
They soon pulled into the driveway of a rather ordinary-looking house. Darkwing got out and Oliver followed. Darkwing then returned the swan's keys to him. "This car of yours looks like crap, but she drives like a real winner."
"I told you," said Oliver.
"Let's get inside," Darkwing said. He then unlocks the front door and heads inside with Oliver following behind.
"I've got one more secret for you before we turn in," Darkwing says.
"What now?" grumbles Oliver.
"Darkwing then removes his hat and then his mask, revealing his full face to his new sidekick.
"You're ugly? That's your big secret?" the swan wondered.
"Meet Drake Mallard," said Darkwing. "Now, Oliver, I'm warning you. You had better be darned careful to only refer to me by my real name when I'm out of disguise."
"Don't worry about it, sir," Oliver said. "I'm extremely careful about such matters."
"That's good, because our neighbors are awfully nosy, and my enemies are lurking everywhere," Drake said, unbuttoning his purple coat.
"The guest room's just down the hall, the first room on the left," Drake then said, pointing down a darkened hallway toward the rear of his house. "If you need anything, let me know. Good night, Olly."
"Good night, my friend," said Oliver. "I shall see you tomorrow."
Drake Mallard then heads off to his room and Oliver heads to the guest bedroom.
Oliver found his way to the room and stepped in, flipping the light switch on his way in. The room was neat and clean. It contained a neatly made, decent-sized bed, a night stand and a chair. Oliver unzipped his leather jacket and set it down on the chair. He removed the rest of his clothing, set them aside and crawled into bed. He would fall asleep soon after that.
Drake Mallard let out a yawn and a sigh as he entered his familiar bedroom. "What a day," he thought as he slipped off his Darkwing costume, neatly folded it, put it away and then got into bed. The nocturnal hero then drifted off into a deep sleep as the sun just started to rise.