The Mistress and the Madman Chapter 3, a darkwing duck fanfic

-Chapter Three-

Play time

The rain pounded down in thick sheets, streaming through every crack and impurity of the looming city. People below, be they night owls or just dishonest, rushed along under umbrellas and newspapers, or some just running in hopes of dodging the falling droplets. The Audubon Bay Bridge sparkled in the distance a few specks of headlights whizzed across it. He had perched on a partly sheltered ledge on a well-positioned office building. The rain had soaked him through his cape, jacket, turtleneck, and had made a soggy mess out of his steel-toed boots. His head was pounding, and he was convinced there wasn't enough aspirin in the world to dent this headache. Streams ran off his fedora and dripped onto his bill. It was another quite rainy night, which usually meant that the plots had taken a night off or had scurried indoors. He shifted and a puddle slid off his cape and off over the ledge. He sighed, earlier he had called in a personal vacation for this week to accommodate Gosalyn's house arrest, and the way he felt right now he was glad he did. He kept waiting for his skull to split straight down the middle, this pain it was beyond uncomfortable. This was ridiculous.

He drew a shiny black wide barreled gun and it quickly started dripping with rainwater. He loaded a grappling hook; he would call it quits early tonight… he was in no condition to do much of anything, apart from scowl, of course. He stood and water cascaded down his elegant ensemble to the distant street below. He aimed and pulled the trigger; the hook soared to the adjacent building and clattered onto a fire escape. With a graceful landing he began to descend to the alley where his favorite motorcycle dubbed the "Rat catcher" sat waiting for him. He mounted it, threw his hat into the sidecar and pulled out a helmet. He didn't want to cram his pounding head into it but it had a visor and that would stop the rain from pummeling his face. Gosalyn would get on his case if he didn't wear it as well, but he told himself she had nothing to do with it. He didn't believe it. He tried no to think about her out here. He tried to separate Darkwing from Drake completely, but lately it wasn't working. He couldn't let any information slip about Gosalyn or Launchpad out here, who knows what a vengeful thug, or S.H.U.S.H. agent would do with that knowledge. The headlights ignited and the engine roared as he sped out into the empty road. He knew the unrelenting pain of loneliness, he had been isolated for far too long, and now over these last few months he had found a happiness he had lost. When he was home he hadn't been left alone for longer than fifteen minutes, she was pulling Drake out of Darkwing and giving him a life that was his own. Not a justice seeking flapping terror, but a man who had to be kind and firm to someone who loved him for no real reason. It was something he had never imagined he'd be able to have. He was pulled out of his thoughts when his headlights fell upon a figure in the middle of the street ahead.

What the hell was it? He squinted through the streaking water on the visor and he saw what it was wearing. A jester hat? The figure spun in place, this jester had on a blindfold and was hopping around madly. Darkwing was quickly approaching the strange person, as he closed in he saw the bat. He slammed on the brakes, but it was too late, the jester had already swung at him. Darkwing caught the blow to the head and was knocked from his bike. He lay on his back in a puddle, staring dully at the spinning city around him through the cracked glass of his helmet. His neck shrieked in pain, the headgear had, luckily, taken the full force of the blow. A jingling sound grew near and the jester stood over him. Now fully visible Darkwing would take in the details of this madman. He was indeed wearing a black and red jester's hat with large bells attached to the dangling long ends, along with a straight jacket that he had gotten his arms free of, the long sewn shut sleeves dragged through the water collected on the street one still had a padlock clamped on the end, belts and fishnet stockings covered his calves while above that puffed out black pants completed the clown asylum look. He peeked out from under the blindfold.

"Oh I win!" He cackled gleefully and threw the bat.

The jester squatted next to Dark, his smiling face hanging over him. He had bucked teeth, the sort that lived in gag shops, used mainly by students to annoy their teachers. The most frightening thing about this creature was his eyes. Pigment less, solid white, and it looked as if his pupils had shattered leaving black shards hanging in odd places. Madness looked at him through those eyes and spoke his name.

"Darkwing Duck…" chuckled the jester, "…are you dead? Do you think we killed him Mr. Banana Brain?"

The jester held up a morbid looking stuffed toy with a mangled banana head and a face that eerily resembled its owner. He spoke again but this time in a high pitched voice and shoved the doll in Dark's face.

"No he's still alive. Though soon he'll wish he wasn't!" He sang, and then laughed. It was the kind of unbridled laughter that echoed off asylum walls and made you doubt your own sanity. A shudder built up inside him, but he would not let it escape. He couldn't show any weakness. He had to hang tight until he saw the opportunity to strike back.

" Yes, yes, Mr. Banana Brain too true." He wiped a tear from his ghastly eye, still chuckling to himself. "Darkwing I wanted to tell you to stay out of my way," he leaned over him, the bells jingling. "You see I have a play date with this city, and I will not tolerate you bullying me. Consider this fair warning, you stay out of my way and I won't get in yours. Though I already know you're too pushy to just let me have my fun." He pouted.

"Who the hell are you?" Dark growled up at him, this seemed to please the crazed clown beyond words.

"Who the hell am I?" He grinned. "You mean to tell me that I took all the time to catch up on all you've been up to and you have no idea who I am?" The milky white eyes flashed. He grabbed Darkwing by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him off the wet cement, close to his face, the rotten breath swarming over him like locusts. He narrowed his horrific eyes and said in a new voice lower and serious as the grave. "I am Quackerjack, and soon everyone will know me. I'll be in every child's nightmares and on every news report. But I'll be sure to haunt you more than anyone else Darkwing." He let Dark go and he fell heavily back onto the wet road. He pulled the doll out again. "And of course you've all ready met Mr. Banana Brain…." He said in an airy civilized manner. A grim smile split his face and he burst into the evil laughter. "Saint Canard… IT'S PLAYTIME!"

This was it. Darkwing swung a steel-toed foot right into Quackerjack's chest sending him tumbling backwards. He flipped himself up and felt the pounding pain in his head. Quackerjack lay still on the pavement, Dark straightened up. Had he knocked him out with one hit? He felt the pride surge up inside him at the thought, but it was eradicated when he heard the distant sound of sirens approaching and Quackerjack started laughing.

"What's so funny Cabbage Patch?" He spat bitterly. Quackerjack shot up and venomously snarled back at him.

"It's Quackerjack! And I was wondering what St. Canard's finest would do if they found vigilante Darkwing Duck hanging from a lamp post by a jump rope." He giggled dementedly.

"Who'd put me there? You Paddycake?" Darkwing started reaching for his gun.

"Oh no, no, no. I'm afraid Mr. Banana Brain and I have a busy day ahead of us. We can't keep you company tonight." He shook the doll and two small capsules "plunked" into a puddle. Darkwing pulled out the gun.

"You're not going anywhere chuckles!" He fired at the smiling figure and blue smoke covered every inch of the road before him. He didn't hesitate, he ran full throttle into the haze, his keen blue eyes cut through the curling mist, he had trained his sight at length for this. The rain would cut his window in half so he had to get to there quick. His target stood in the same place before him; something slithered at the jester's feet. The rain had begun to triumph over the smoke and through the thinning fog he could see the creatures. Quackerjack stroked a strange looking animal, it was a solid green tiger, and a bright red octopus writhed about his feet.

"Aren't they fun? I customized them myself." A crazed smile stretched across Quackerjack's face and he crouched down between the giant living sponge capsule animals. "Go have fun kids. Why not start with him?" He was using the deep voice again, his eyes flashed and Mr. Banana Brain spoke up.

"Yeah kill Darkwing Duck. He's a piñata! Tear him apart! Break him into tiny pieces! WHACK WHACK! And spill the candy out all over the road!" Quackerjack laughed and the strange monsters started to approach Darkwing. The rain only fueled their size and he watched them swell bigger than him. A porous, dripping, tentacle flew at him. He tested a swing; it connected with a "squelch". Hand to hand would be no good against them. The tiger pounced at him and he leapt out of the way. Darkwing had to think quick and move quicker to dodge the paws and tentacles swarming him, these creatures looked laughable but he knew they could crush him or if they preferred, drown him. He needed a plan and fast.

"Bye Bye Darkwing! If you happen to out live my children say hi to the coppers for me!" Quackerjack cackled maniacally as he disappeared down a dark alley.

"Oh no you don't!" Dark attempted to follow but got nailed in the bill by a saturated tentacle, knocking him off course. He cursed under his breath as the dodged the other seven appendages trying to crash down upon him. The sirens were getting closer, and the sound kick started his brain. The grappling hook closed around them before he could think out his actions. With extraordinary force he pulled the writhing creatures together. It wouldn't hold them long. Pulling his cape up over his head to block out the rain, he pulled the lighter out from a pouch on his belt. It had been the property of a thug named Hammerhead Hannigan, it had saved him once and he had managed to hang onto it. He hoped it would help him out again. Quickly he flicked a flame into life and hastily secured it to a gas grenade canister. He slid the end of it into his gun, and aimed.

"Suck gas." He fired.

The rain was merciful and kept the flame lit. As he had hoped the canister exploded on impact with the sponge creatures. The concussion shattered the windows in the general area, and flung him violently like a rag doll through the air. When he regained himself he was tangled in a mound of clothes in a store that had over seen the conflict. He winced as he felt the shards of glass biting into his skin. The fire burned outside the broken window, and the sirens sang closer than ever. He was still in hot water; the police were very intolerant of vigilantes, this one in particular. He collected himself the best he could and through his vision blurred with agony, he noticed the blood that coated the clothes he had landed on. He staggered to his feet, reached around to his back, and yanked a large chunk of glass out. He would deal with rest of them later, he climbed through the shattered storefront window, still glad he hadn't taken off his helmet. The rain had already begun to extinguish the fire and his foes were nothing more than melted colorful spots on the pavement. He bolted to the rat catcher as the red and blue lights reflected off the wet road. He managed to get it right side up and with a bit of hydroplaning fled the scene. The police were left with nothing but the confusing aftermath.

His pain was threatening to black him out, but his rage was stronger. Quackerjack huh? If he was right it wasn't a very clever alias, he silently fumed. Everything swirled together in a whirlpool of anger and anguish; he had an idea of who might be behind this whole thing. And his wounds would have to wait as he went to go sort things out.

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Okay. So I am once again stranded with out a working computer (I'm neglecting my Computers Lecture to upload this…. I know I'm bad.) So I will try to upload whenever I can. Thanks to all who have reviewed so far, it really means a lot to me. So this may be the last one for a while so hoped you enjoyed it!