Well I'm back, as usual I don't own Darkwing Duck. I also don't own Monty Python.

Chapter Seven

He was losing what grip on reality he had, he was sure of it. The first day after that non-profitable fight with Darkwing he spent sleeping, the second day he used to dream up ways to painfully kill that costumed freak. On the third day the toothache that he had been taking pains to ignore was seriously starting to bother him so he was forced to take a trip to the dentist. Not that he was afraid or anything. No way was Negaduck, a duck that struck fear into the hearts of criminals as well as ordinary citizens, afraid of a little dental work. The last person that had suggested such a thing had last been seen in little bits each no bigger than ten cm³. The Fearsome Five had learnt to never mention the D word in front of him if they didn't want to spend the next ten minutes dodging gun fire as well as knives and other sharp objects.

One ex-dentist later he came back with a crown fixed onto one of his upper canines; his famous smile was now restored but he would have to go searching for another dentist, although taking the drill to his dentist's temple had been tremendously therapeutic and had saved him from having to pay for his treatment. The receptionist had been happy to let him out the door after seeing the corpse in the treatment room. Hmm, next time he would have to try the F.O.W.L affiliated one as they gave a twenty percent discount to anyone who could provide proof that they had put Darkwing Duck in hospital. This had led to everyone taking a keen interest in cinematography much to the disgust of Tuskernini.

He kept his computer on continuously; every ten minutes in his penthouse suite saw him searching for that little blue dot. He might not have been able to wander round town in comfort (and safety) but he could still track the little blighter and at least this way there wasn't any possibility of meeting her father again. That was a pleasure he was saving for when he was fully healed. And when that happened the pleasure would be all his.

By the time the fourth day came around he was ready to scream; there was only so much daytime TV a duck could take before reaching his limit and he had reached his. You only had to look at the television to see that the limit had been reached; the TV was no longer of this world, it was an ex-TV. His revolver had soon executed the lifespan of that particular piece of electronics; the downside was that he could no longer watch the six pm news. So it was with much reluctance that he was forced to ring Megavolt to procure himself a replacement. He glared at the telephone as though it was the phone's fault for forcing to ring any of the members of the Fearsome Five. He picked up the receiver and started dialling.

"Whoever you are, be quick, I'm in the middle of an experiment here."

"Would you care to repeat that Megavolt? Whilst you have all your limbs?"

"Yikes, Negaduck?"

"Extraordinary, you haven't managed to fry all your brain cells yet."

"Yes Boss," agreed Megavolt.

Negaduck groaned, if he hadn't needed him there was no way that he would have phoned the light bulb hugging freak.

"Listen up you knob, I need you to get me a television, and not one of your mutant talking machines either. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Gee Boss, what do you need a television for?"

It was a good thing that Megavolt had neglected to ask why Negaduck couldn't get his own TV. As it was Negaduck closed his eyes and tried counting to ten. He managed to get to two before he exploded.

"What do you THINK I need a television for you moronic simpleton?"

"I am not a simpleton; I have the psychologist reports to prove it."

"Great, fine, whatever, you're not a simpleton, instead you're missing a brain cell or ten. Now, what about my TV?"

"I'll bring it round tomorrow morning to your hideout. Say, where is your hideout?"

Negaduck laughed, "You actually think I'm going to tell you? After what you did to my old one? YOU KNOB, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" He couldn't believe that Megavolt had sunk to new depths of imbecility; it was a wonder that he was even able to control his own electric powers without getting blown up. "Just drop it off at the Warehouse at 32 Liverpool Road. Someone else will collect it. Bye Sparky." He slammed the receiver down cutting off Megavolt's protests of Negaduck's lack of trust and exclamations that his name wasn't Sparky, fuming. Because of his cracked ribs he couldn't even relieve his feelings by practising his knife throwing on his picture of Darkwing. Instead he settled for squeezing his stress ball into a collapsed heap of molecules. Only then had he calmed down enough to phone The Liquidator to arrange collection from the warehouse for his television.

By the end of the second week this scene had been played out at least five more times. Each time was preceded by a news report on Darkwing Duck. Apparently he had been searching all of St Canard's dives and abandoned fish warehouses with more vigour than usual. Apparently no one knew the reason for this apparent single-minded determination of Darkwing's. His actions even had the other criminals stumped. According to Liki no one had yet managed to completely agree on a single theory; Megavolt thought that Darkwing was chasing a fish eating maniac, Quackerjack suggested that the stress had finally got to him and so he had turned into a fish eating criminal. Bushroot, meanwhile, was staying quiet and keeping within his greenhouse; The Liquidator wasn't even sure if he had heard about Darkwing's behaviour. Liki's own theory was that Darkwing was probably trying to get his revenge on one of the villains judging by the lack of his usual narrative ramblings. Negaduck had stayed silent throughout this whilst keeping his face averted. Having cracked ribs was bad enough but no way was he going to let the rest of the gang know that it was Darkwing who had given him them. He'd never before tried to killed them, sure he'd stolen their powers and pointed his shotguns at them giving them a single second to get out of the way before he fired, but he had never actually seriously tried to kill them. He didn't intend to start now. Plus it'd take too much effort. He wasn't even sure if The Liquidator could be killed. Yes, way too much effort to find out.

It is a truth universally acknowledged by everyone who has ever cracked a rib that the pain is always worse in the third week. Negaduck was no exception. Every time he laughed, coughed, sneezed or twisted his body he was immediately incapacitated by a sharp intense pain. The Ibuprofen did little to help as well. Though, fortunately, by this time he had acquired a DVD player so at least he could watch his favourite movies such as 'Reservoir Ducks' and 'Lock, Stock and Two Steaming Barrels'. A film with a character named Hatchet Harry was alright in his book.

He didn't spend all of his time watching movies; he was paying particular attention to Gosalyn Mallard's movements, especially at night. Often he would see the blue dot move from the house to the tower at ten o'clock in the evening before it would head out into the city. He had also noticed and found it particularly interesting that never once did she venture towards the warehouse district. He had a sneaking suspicion that not all of her excursions were authorised. Perhaps it would all work out to his advantage after all.