Hey! I'm back. Thank you to Steampunk Wilson, KaliAnn + Valonqarie for reviewing the last chapter.

Erm…a couple of notes about this chapter. One - It does feature Jose and Panchito in it. These are two characters that I have not actually written for before. So any tips for how I can improve them is welcome, because I enjoyed writing them and as Donald's friends they may well turn up in a later chapter.

Two – Obviously Panchito and Jose are from Mexico and Brazil respectfully. Because of this I have them speaking their native language a couple of times. And as I don't speak either Portuguese or Spanish, I have been using google translate to help me. I'm just hoping it's right. But because this is Della's diary and she [I'm assuming, if she's also been friends with Jose and Panchito and done a lot of travelling] can speak Spanish and Portuguese she wouldn't need to translate it. So it's untranslated, but feel free to use google translate if you want to know what there saying. I hope you should be able to pick it though from what the other characters say in response and the re-cap at the end.

Sorry for the long Authors Note, let's crack on. Hope you enjoy.

02/12/2019

Thank Selene I got up when I did today, because a minute later and I would have missed Donald. I woke up at what I thought was quite late in the morning [I think I'm still suffering from sleep-deprivation] and when I got downstairs it was to find Donald standing in the hallway trying, and failing, to get his wings into his jacket.

"Whaaakkkkk!" He was spluttering while spinning round in a circle.

"…Do you need any help?" I said, smiling sweetly from the bottom of the stairs.

He stopped spinning and glared at me. "What does it look like?" He said, grumpily.

I rolled my eyes and said, as I was helping him, "Honestly whatever would you do without me?" I said it as, you know, a light, jokey thing, but he instantly sort of froze and even I wanted to kick myself. So I did.

Donald – either not noticing me kicking myself, or more likely ignoring it – brushed my stupid statement off and said. "I am going to see Jose and Panchito. See you later-"

"Why are you going-?"

"Keep up, Dumb-ella! To give Panchito his money back."

"Well, wait a minute and I'll come with you. I didn't get chance to talk to them much the other night."

"You talked to them for fifteen minutes!"

I tsked. "That was only basics 'how are you's?'. And besides. Panchito did most of the talking."

"Panchito ALWAYS does most of the talking-"

"Oh, quit arguing! I'm coming with you and that's that! Besides. You can treat me to a Big Maccies."

So I left Donald squawking behind me and went to say goodbye to the boys. I went to the TV room, because I thought that's where they would be. Only Louie was there, remote in one hand, idly skipping through the channels.

I told him where we were going and he said 'Uh-huh.' And carried on skipping.

A bit annoyed by his attitude I put my hands on my hips and asked him where his brothers were. "Huey's upstairs doing homework and Dewey's doing something with Webby. Don't ask me what, I wasn't listening."

"…So, if Huey's doing homework, shouldn't you be as well?"

He rolled his eyes. He probably thought I couldn't see him considering he was facing away from me, but having been something of a stroppy teenager myself and watching Donald go through his 'emo' phrase, trust me I know a teenage eye-roll when I see one.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, young man!" I snapped, echoing my mother's words from goodness knows how long ago.

He told me he hadn't, I told him he had because I'd seen him do it, he said that was impossible seeing as he was facing away from me, I lost my temper, told him never to speak to me like that again and said if he hadn't done him homework by the time I got back he'd be grounded till the end of time. [Quoting directly from Scrooge there]

By the time I got in the car smoke was practically billowing from my ears.

"Don't talk to me." I said, before Donald could open his beak.

To be fair, he didn't. Just started the car up and off we went. Barely five minutes later I snapped.

"How the hell did you manage it!?"

Donald raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, which just pissed me off more.

"C'mon! You raised them for 10 years! Tell me how you did it!"

Donald shrugged as best as he could while driving. "There's no secret, really. Just lots and lots of patience. So, tell me, was it Louie?"

"How did you know!?"

"He does have that special way of winding people up." My brother admitted. "But he means well. What was the argument about anyway?"

So I filled him in and he nodded wisely. "Ah, I see. Yes, homework has been a source of…frustration over the years. Of course, it's slightly better now the boys have got their own system."

I gave him a side wards look. "What system?"

He gave me his own side wards look and asked. "You mean, you haven't cottoned on yet?"

"Cottoned on to what?"

My annoying twin gave a loud laugh and I resisted the urge to punch him in the arm. "Tell me." I snapped.

"The way it works is: Huey does his homework first – so he doesn't get distracted by Dewey and Louie arguing and asking him questions. Then he helps Dewey who is normally fine, but needs a little help sitting still and actually, you know, DOING the work. Then he helps Louie. Though to be fair Louie is pretty good, especially with Maths. He just needs it double-checking and helping on more difficult questions."

So that was me told then. I seethed in the passenger seat the entire way to the hotel, angry at myself, angry at Donald, even angry at the boys although I tried to shake that feeling because I KNEW they didn't deserve it.

I'm not sure if I'd had ever broken out of it had Donald not touched my shoulder lightly and said. "Della, we're here."

I shrugged him off and stormed out the car and up the path.

Donald called after me but I ignored him. He caught up inside the hotel's lobby and, looking at me with thinly-veiled annoyance, hissed. "Look, Della, I get it must be annoying, trying to figure out the boys, but there's no need to take it out on me, ya clod!"

I glared daggers at him and, folding my arms pouted. He just didn't get it. No one 'gets' it. They all think they do, but they don't. And it stinks.

By this point we had attracted the attention of the manager who came hurrying over to us with a 'Can I help you?'

Now. Normally I would take over at this point because Donald, well. Can't talk properly. But – and I'm not proud of this – I was still seething, so I clamped my beak shut and glared at the wall, leaving poor Donny to try and explain what it was we wanted.

He started of simple enough. "I want to see Jose and Panchito." He said, slowly.

The manager looked confused [which is not a surprise] and politely asked my brother to repeat himself.

"I want. To see. Joe-se. Ca -Ri – O – Ca. And. Pan-Chi-To. Pis-toles." Don said, and to be fair he was really making an effort.

The manager took a breath and repeated. "You want to see…" Good so far. "No-Say and…I didn't get the other bit…"

As steam started practically coming out of Donald's ears and his face turned a familiar shade of beetroot the manager gabbled. "Or maybe you could write it down? One moment I can fetch you a pen and paper -Louise!" He called to the women on the desk. "Louise! Bring a pen and some paper-"

By now even I knew things were going a bit to far and cut in with: "Excuse me, we're looking for our friends Jose Carioca and Panchito Pistoles."

Cue the manager looking at me like: 'Why didn't you say something before!?' Which to be fair, I totally get and I feel like an walloper, but never mind. The past is the past. Anyway, so he took us out to the shooting range. We should have guessed. Panchito and guns go together like, well, ducks and water.

As we approached, we heard two gunshots which for some reason made me jump, despite the fact it was, you know, a shooting range! Then we heard a familiar loud laugh and the buzz of voices.

"Panchito." Myself and Donald said at the same time.

"Allow me." The manager said, opening the door for us. "Mr Pistoles? Mr and Miss's Duck for you."

I wish he hadn't said that. He made us sound like a couple which is beyond disgusting.

"Don-nald!"

We turned to see Jose coming towards us, arms open like he hadn't just seen us two days ago. "And Della! How lovely to see you both, but what are you doing here? We only saw you a couple of days ago!"

"I've got some mon-" Donald began, only to be interrupted by a big rooster yelling.

"EVERYBODY QUIET! We need to concentrate!"

"Si senor, gracias!" We turned to see Panchito in the middle of the room, with about three of four other guys, holding a pistol [which was probably hired] in his hands. His eyes lit up when he saw us and he waved enthusiastically. "Donald! Della! Hola!"

"Who are they?" One of the three other guys demanded, eyes narrowing suspiciously. I began wondering what Panchito had gotten himself into now and judging by Donald's eyes narrowing he was thinking the same.

"Listen here, bub-" He began, only to be cut off by a:

"Donald! Della!" Jose waved at us from a nearby table. "Come, sit."

"Jose, what's going on with-" Donald jerked his head towards Panchito and his new 'friends'

"They are having a shooting competition." Jose said, as we sat down. "It is just getting to the last one."

"What's he gotta do?" I asked, leaning forward.

Jose turned and pointed. "You see that big tree over there?" We followed his point to the edge of the shooting range where there was something that I couldn't quite work out in the distance.

"What is it?" Me and Donald said together, before glaring at each other.

Jose let out a loud laugh that got the attention of at least twelve people before explaining that the thing in the distance was a shooting target and that Panchito had to hit it in order to win a bet he had set up.

"He's never going to be able to do it." I said, without thinking.

Donald kicked me but thankfully Jose just laughed. "I would not be so sure of that, perder Della. He has hit 12 already. This is either going to be lucky or unlucky 13."

I would have asked more questions but at that point one of the three guys yelled at us all to shut up, so we did.

Panchito stepped up to the edge, he raised his pistol, did a little tail-shake for no reason that I could think off, raised the gun and:

BANG!

Despite the fact I WAS expecting it I still jumped, nearly knocking a glass of water of the table and into Donald's lap in the process.

Thankfully Donald's yells, Jose's laughter and my apologies were drowned out [no pun intended] by Panchito's loud holler of victory as he jumped around, triumphantly.

"Congratulations, Panchito, my friend." Jose said to Panchito while handing Donald a silk hankie. "That was indeed Maravilhoso."

"It was, wasn't it?" Panchito agreed, helping himself to some water. "And look at this money." He added, flicking through it. "It will be a big help to my familia."

Donald cleared his throat. "Talking of which, 'Chito, ¿Puedo prestarte un momento?"

Panchito looked somewhat surprised, but agreed and they moved off, leaving me with Jose.

I looked at him, a little unsure of what to say seeing as I haven't spoken to him for about 11 years. Thankfully I didn't have to worry because Jose is never lost for words.

"So…Donald is in fine spirits as always, isn't he?"

I laughed and was about to reply when we heard a:

"No, no! A thousand times, no!"

"But Panchito-!"

We turned to see Panchito flouncing [there's no other way to describe it] towards us and, with a dramatic flair, he slammed his fist on the table and declared. "¡No, Donald, me niego a tomar tu dinero!"

"What money?" Jose asked, interest clearly piqued.

"The boys told me they took the last of Panchito's money the other night." Donald said, through gritted teeth. "I'm simply returning it to him-"

"¡Y me niego a aceptarlo!"

¿¡Por qué no!? Donald asked, throwing his arms out, nearly catching Jose round the head.

"Porque no te necesito compadecer-!"

"I'm not trying to pity you!" Donald snapped, face nearly turning beetroot. "I am trying to do the right thing!"

"Bueno, en ese caso cómprame un trago!"

"…A drink?" Donald echoed, face regaining it's normal couler.

"I shall have one to if you do not mind, Donald." Jose said, lighting a cigar.

"And me." I added.

Donald stood there sputtering for a few seconds before snapping at Jose. "I thought you had given up!?"

Jose blew a puff of smoke before saying, lazily. "It is a hard battle."

So basically, to cut a long story short, we all ended up with a drink and Panchito refused completely to take Donald's money, happy to accept the two drinks as payment. We spent a good couple of hours there and it was really nice to catch up with them again. Eventually we had to leave though.

"We shall have to do this again sometime, my friends." Jose said, getting up and twirling his cane.

"Indeed we shall." Panchito agreed. "Hey, maybe we can visit the Statue of Liberation again, no?"

I raised my eyebrow. "Panchito, you do realise what a 'lifetime ban' means, don't you?"

He nodded. "Si, Jose and I, we are banned for the rest of our living lives."

"Yes…so you're not going to be able to go back again, are you?"

"We'll find a way, won't we Jose? Donald?"

"Sim." Jose said, at the exact same time my twin said.

"You have got to be joking!"

"We could sneak in." Jose said. "I could russ-sell up some disguises…"

"No!" Donald howled.

Panchito waved a hand. "We'll discuss it when we come back next year."

So we said our goodbye's and got in the car.

"Damn Panchito!" Donald hissed as soon as we got in the car. "Why does he have to be so goddamn PROUD?"

"You wouldn't have him any other way." I said, starting the engine.

"No…I suppose I wouldn't…"