No Picnic

By Sharan McQuack, Launchpad's wife.

Story's too short. Please help.

Just read preview of Boom's Ducktales # 2. Thirty years later and you STILL won't sell Launchpad, huh? Get my rewriting pencil handy. I'll have fun rewriting it, so I buy the stinking thing.

It was a lovely Saturday in Duckburg Park. We were at the local baseball field. Launchpad was acting as coach of the Trins' Little League team. He was helping Dufus, who was at bat. I was helping Webby, who was in the batter's box. I was teaching her to bat lefty.

"I'm not a lefty." Webby objected.

"Neither am I. But I'm not athlete, either. And little league pitchers are clueless about how to pitch to lefties. I could sometimes get on base on balls, which is easier than trying to hit the stupid ball. Whatever works." I said. (1)

The boys weren't due to come up to bat for awhile, so they wandered off to play a little. And were promptly netting and nabbed by the Beagle Boys, who intended to hold them for ransom.

'HELP!" the boys yelled.

We all turned to see the Beagles trying to run off, slightly hampered by the squirming, screaming, trying to escape triplets.

Launchpad grabbed an obsolete pitching machine that Mr. McDuck gave to the team because Mr. McDee couldn't sell it. This way Mr. McDuck could deduct it from his taxes. Launchpad set the pitching machine to "plummet" and aimed it at the Beagles. The machine threw balls too fast and too hard. (which is why this model was obsolete. On that setting, "people" could get hurt.) The Beagles got hit again and again and again until they finally dropped the boys and ran.

We all ran up to the boys and untied them.

"You boys OK?" Launchpad asked.

"Others than the fact that WE got hit by the balls, too?" Huey asked.

"Other than they Beagles dropped us and it hurt?" Dewey asked.

"We're just peachy!" Louie said sarcastically.

"At least they didn't succeed in kidnapping you." I put in.
I no longer expected a "thank you, Launchpad", God forbid.

After the game, we were all hot. So we went for a dip in Duckburg Pond. We swam and splashed. The boys soon started racing each other across the pond. The Beagles snorkeled up from under and tried to grab them AGAIN.

"HELP! Beagles!" the Boys screamed.

"The fishing net! Help me throw the fishing net!" I yelled.

I needed help with the big, heavy, awkward fishing net that sat on the dock.

"Good idea!" Launchpad said.

And he helped me with the net and got the others to do likewise. And we netted the Beagles. We tried not to net the boys, but they got tangled in the net a little. Even Duckburg Pond has currents and wind. But the Beagles had knives with them (even while SWIMMING!)and cut their way free.

"I'll call the cops!" Webby said.

And she ran for her cell phone, in her little pink purse on her beach blanket.

Hearing this, the Beagles swam for it. Right towards the part of the lake clearly marked "No swimming". They figured we wouldn't follow them there. They were right about that. WE knew those signs were there because of snapping turtles that lived in that muddy yucky part of the pond.

The Beagles apparently didn't know that and they LIKE breaking the law. The possibility that the law might be there to protect them simply doesn't occur to them. The snapping turtles soon were biting the Beagles. And hanging onto the Beagles. Who screamed like babies and ran out of the water and ran away.

"By the time I got my phone out of my purse, the Beagles had ran for it. So I didn't call." Webby said.

Webby wanted to make sure that was the right thing to do.

"The Beagles will be back. You can call then." I said."You boys OK?"

The boys climbed onto the pier.

"We almost drowned!" Huey said.
"Even ducks can't swim when tangled in a net!"Dewey added. (2)
"And we're all muddy!" Louie said.

After a shower and a little first aid, we all headed for the ice cream truck. The other Jr. Woodchucks got there well ahead, they didn't need first aid. Need I tell you that the Beagles had swiped the ice cream truck so they could use it and the ice cream as bait to trap the boys? Or did you guess that somehow? Funny how that possibility didn't occur to US.

Until the Beagles grabbed the Triplets and sped off in the ice cream truck. Launchpad sped off- but did NOT follow them! The other Jr. Woodchucks grabbed their bikes and followed the ice cream truck. I followed Launchpad. Launchpad ran, cutting across a field until he got to a crossroad marker. Launchpad turned it around so the "arm" marked "Park Employees Only" was pointing in the WRONG direction.

Predictably, the Beagles saw the sign and went that way BECAUSE they weren't supposed to. More signs marked "No Entry" and "Keep Out" were ignored and driven past. Again, the Beagles figured we law-obeying "idiots" wouldn't follow them. True.

The Beagles drove into Duckburg Pond. The truck began to sink and the Beagles jumped out, and splashed into the mud. Mosquitos, angry at being disturbed, bit and bit and bit them. Then, the cops showed , word of a ice cream truck crashing into Duckburg Pond required investigating. The Beagles were surrounded and carted off to jail. We borrowed a rowboat and rescued the boys.

"You boys OK?" Webby asked.

"Ten jillion mosquito bites." Huey said.

"Half frozen from the ice cream truck." Dewey added.

"Nearly drowned again. Can we go home now?" Louie asked.

So we took them home. Shortly after we arrived at the Mansion, Mr. McDuck came up and innocently asked the boys: "Tomorrow is Sunday. How would you boys like to take you to the park?"

"Please NO! "the boys chorused.

The End.

(1) I do hope they have walks in the Little League. They didn't let girls play when I was young enough.

(2) OK, so I think the Ponce De Loon impersonator (did they mention his name?) from "Sweet Duck of Youth" FIRST tangled Launchpad in that net, THEN sunk Launchpad's swamp boat.