Mr. Monk, Mr. McDuck, and Magica Despell
Somewhere, in a aircraft flown by Launchpad
Monk was shaking, again firmly squashed between Sharona and Disher, who virtually had to drag him onto the plane. Again. At least it wasn't a biplane, but a much larger, much more comfortable air force surplus combination cargo plane and helicopter.
Scrooge McDuck was seated beside Launchpad. From specific shuffling noises in a crate behind him, Monk was 90 percent sure Huey, Dewey, and Louie were stowed away on flight. He was also 60 percent sure someone had stowed away in back.
But he wasn't leaving his comfortable seat for the duration of Launchpad's flight. For good reason. He had a parachute in hand, and, of course, was afraid he'd have to use it.
"There it is," scoffed Mr. McDuck, staring at the mountain shaped liked Magica Despell.
"I'll take her down, Mr. McD," Launchpad said.
At that moment, a flume of smoke escaped from the top of the crater, and obscured their view.
"I can't see," Launchpad said. "We're gonna crash."
Disher groaned. Sharona rolled her eyes. Monk turned white. And certain rustling noises were heard from the crate.
"What else is new?" sighed Mr. McDuck. "Boys, come out here."
"Uh, we're sorry Uncle Scrooge," offered Louie, as they climbed out.
"Never mind," fumed Mr. McDuck.
He strapped them into a seat.
"We're going down," said Launchpad.
"Again, what else is new?" asked Mr. McDuck, to noone in particular.
The plane plummeted, but at the last moment made a jarring, but relatively easy landing on the floor of Magica's crater.
"Where is she?" asked Disher, who, aside from Monk, and Mr. McDuck ("Me precious money!") was the first outside the plane.
"Help, Adrian!" exclaimed a very familiar (to Monk) voice.
It belonged to a woman, tied up against the wall in manacles.
"Adrian!" cried Trudy. "Darling! She's hid me here for years. You remember the story I've been working on - she wanted to know all about the world's billionaires. Who was the richest, who was the one she needed their first dime, quarter, or dollar from. Then she wanted me so she could find all everything I knew about you. So she could know enough to outsmart Mr. McDuck at last. She faked everything."
It looked like Trudy. It sounded like Trudy. Monk realized it even smelled like Trudy, the same Black Magic perfume.
"You can't be? Trudy?" he said.
Sharona and Disher stared at the woman whose portrait they knew so well.
"No she ain't," said a familiar voice.
"MA BEAGLE?" said McDuck.
"Hitched a ride with the pilot, out back. Not even Monk knew about me. It's her. I recognize that perfume anywhere."
"And she's playing a dirty trick on Mr. Monk," said Huey. "Too dirty."
The nephews bombarded Trudy with dirt, despite Monk's last moment attempt to stop them.
In a puff of smoke Trudy revealed herself to be Magica Despell.
"Good job boys," said Mr. McDuck. "You old witch, this is a new low, even for you."
Monk collapsed into Sharona's arms.
"Tell me about it, Scroogie darling," laughed Magica. "But you've arrived just in time, in a moment I will be making your dime into part of my amulet. Ever told your brats they shouldn't be hitting ladies."
"Some lady," scoffed Launchpad. "But she's right, every hero knows that. It even sais so right in the Junior Woodchuck guidebook."
"It said nothing about ladies hitting ladies," said Sharona, furious at Magica's trick.
"It's unladylike," objected Dewey.
"Tough," said Sharona.
With Ma Beagle close behind, she advanced on Magica Despell.
"I'm warning you . . . ." started Magica, making for her wand.
Sharona tripped her, Ma Beagle broke her wand, a revived Monk pushed her into the cauldron (without getting dirty), and Disher handcuffed her.
"Your under arrest," he announced.
Scrooge McDuck walked up, and grabbed his dime from a locket around her neck. He kissed it several times.
"Me precious dime," he said.
"You think you can get me," scowled Magica. "I'll be back for dime another time."
She turned herself into a vulture and flew away.
"She must be around her somewhere," Monk said feebly. "It's just an illusion."
"The perfume was just an illusion too?" asked Sharona.
"Jeepers," said Huey. "Was your wife a witch, Mr. Monk?"
"No," said Monk, quite firmly.
"No, it's a very popular brand," Mr. McDuck explained. "My French subsidiary has been making it ever since The Nutty Professor came out."
With that, he began swimming through his cash.
"All there?" asked Louie.
"All here," said McDuck. "Every blessed penny."
"Not for long, Scrooge," said Bank Job.
Ma Beagle had freed her boys from jail, and they were now advancing on their former allies. Guns drawn.
"Adrian!" yelled Sharona.
"No problemo," Launchpad said. "Mr. M told me she was stowed away in back when he got out of the plane. The police are coming now."
The roar of helicopters was heard in the air, and before five minutes had passed the Beagles were back in custody and Ma Beagle had escaped to parts unknown, certain to bake her peculiar desserts for her delinquent brood.
"The famous Beagle Boys," wryly commented none other than Captain Stottlemeyer, who had been contacted by the Duckburg police to accompany them on the unusual arrest (by reason of his contacts with Disher and Monk). "Not a homicide, but this has gotta be something for my records."
"Shut up, copper," muttered Big Time.
"Mr. McDuck," put in Sharona, while the beagles were being handcuffed.
"Yes, lassie?"
"The three and a half million is payable immediately, sir."
"Brigadoon!"