Early the next morning, Dudley returned. Robyn took the letter off his leg, read it, and smiled.
"He's coming," she said.
"That's good," Mickey said. "I just hope he comes soon."
Almost immediately, there was a knock on the door.
"Boy, that was fast!" Mickey shouted.
"That should be Uncle now," Robyn said. "I'll be right back."
Mickey nodded, and continued to sponge Donald's forehead. Donald moaned, coughed, and began shivering.
"Easy, Donald," Mickey said. "Just take it easy. Help is on the way. I hope."
"Uncle, I'm so glad you came," he heard Robyn say, as she came down the hallway, and into the bedroom. "I really hope you can help Donald."
When they came in, Mickey turned around to greet Robyn's uncle, but stopped short when he saw him. Robyn's uncle was an old man with a long gray beard, and he wore a blue sorcerer's robe, and hat with stars and moons appliqued on it.
"Mickey, I'd like you to meet my uncle," Robyn said. "Yen Sid."
"Aahh!" Mickey screamed, and he dove under the bed, leaving Robyn looking confused. Yen Sid didn't even look phased by this.
"We've met," he said, as he walked over to Donald.
Mickey scrambled out from underneath the bed, and hid behind Robyn's leg.
"You've met?" Robyn asked.
"Yeah, we have," Mickey said. "Robyn, why didn't you tell me your uncle was a master sorcerer?!"
"You didn't ask. But how do you know Uncle Yen Sid, anyway?"
"I was his apprentice once. But . . . . but it didn't really work out so well. See, there was this well, and this broom, and your uncle's hat, and . . . . ."
"Mickey, I must ask you to be quiet for a moment," Yen Sid said.
"Oh," Mickey said. "Yeah, uhh, sorry, Master Yen Sid. Sir."
Mickey cleared his throat, and stood silently. Yen Sid put his hand on Donald's forehead for a moment, and then turned to his niece and Mickey.
"He's in very bad shape," Yen Sid said. "I'm afraid no doctor would be able to help him. No medicine will cure him from this."
"Does that mean there's nothing you can do?" Mickey asked.
"I didn't say that," Yen Sid said. "Donald has been enchanted. Thankfully, I will be able to lift this spell."
Yen Sid then put one hand on Donald's forehead once more, and the other on the duck's chest. Then, the sorcerer closed his eyes, and concentrated. A bright glow surrounded both Yen Sid and Donald. Mickey and Robyn shielded their eyes from it, while Pluto and Figaro ducked under the bed. Gradually, the light subsided. Once it was completely gone, Donald opened his eyes, yawned, and stretched.
"What a night," he said, sleepily.
"Donald?" Mickey asked. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," Donald said. "I think so. Just kinda hungry."
"You did it!" Mickey shouted. He jumped into Yen Sid's arms, happily. "Hooray! I don't know how I can thank you, Master Yen Sid!"
"You can start by getting off me," Yen Sid said.
"Oh!" Mickey shouted. He jumped down to the floor, and smiled sheepishly. "Heh, heh. Sorry."
"I'll go make some breakfast," Robyn said. "Then, Mickey, you can tell me how you and Uncle know each other."
"I'm afraid I can't stay," Yen Sid said. "The work of a sorcerer is never done."
"Well, thank you for your help, Uncle," Robyn said.
"Yeah," Mickey said. "You're the greatest!"
Yen Sid said nothing, waved his arms, and disappeared, into what seemed like thin air.
Elsewhere, Mortimer woke up, took out the emerald, and shook it a little.
"Hey, wake up!" he shouted. "I need to check in on Mickey!"
"I really wish you'd calm down," Chernoberus sighed, frustratedly. "What are you so worried about?"
"Mickey coming back, that's what! I gotta make sure he stays away! Now show me what's going on with that little pipsqueak, already!"
Chernoberus sighed, and projected what Mortimer wanted on the TV. He was beyond shocked to see Mickey and Donald sitting at a table, gorging on apple fritters.
"What the . . . ." he started. "How did . . . . what . . . . who . . . . arrrrggghhhh!"
Mortimer was so mad, he stood up, and kicked his television set right into the wall. Then he began stomping around the room, kicking things out of his way.
"That stupid mouse!" he shouted. "I oughta . . . . I'm gonna . . . . errrrggghhh!"
"Calm yourself, Mortimer," Chernoberus said. "This is only a minor set back."
"Are you nuts?!" Mortimer shouted. "That duck was supposed to be a dead duck by now! I've had it. I'm gonna take care of this myself!"
"I've told you time and time again, Mortimer . . . ."
"Aw, shut up, you giant hunk of green glass! I'm doing things my way now! After all, I'm the one with all the power!"
With that, Mortimer threw the emerald over his shoulder, balled some magic energy in his hands, and zapped himself. He began to "Hulk Out," and he started growing bigger and bigger, until he was the size of King Kong (going through the roof of his house as well). Once Mortimer had busted out of his house, he clapped his hands, and disappeared.
"Oh good sweet Clarence, I've created a monster!" Chernoberus shouted.
Meanwhile, Mickey was explaining to Robyn about how he knew Yen Sid, and why he stopped being the sorcerer's apprentice.
"So I took Master Yen Sid's hat," he said, "and used it to enchant the broom to carry the water in for me. Only, I didn't tell the broom when to stop. The broom wound up flooding the workshop, and I had to stop it somehow, so I took an axe, and chopped it up. Only the pieces of the broom became more brooms, and they kept bringing in more and more water. So then I tried to use Master Yen Sid's book, only . . . . heh . . . . I accidentally created a whirlpool. Thankfully, Master Yen Sid came back, and reversed the spell. And boy, did he ever give me a good whack with that broom for what I did!"
"That sounds like something Uncle would do," Robyn said. "He's a no-nonsense type of guy."
"Yeah, I found that after he hit me with the broom," Mickey said.
"I never knew you were such a trouble maker, Mickey," Donald said.
"Oh yeah," Mickey said with a laugh. "I was a mischievous little devil, all right. Not as bad as you, though."
"Now wait just a doggone minute!" Donald shouted.
"After all, I'm not the one who destroys everything in sight when he loses his temper."
Donald's face began to turn red, and he started squawking incoherently, hopping up and down on one leg, and one arm outstretched while the other was swinging back and forth. Mickey smiled, and gave his pal a big hug.
"Aw, gosh, it's good to have you back, Donald!" he shouted.
"Huh?" Donald asked, confused.
"I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and the only way I would know that is if you lost your temper."
"Oh brother."
Donald started mumbling under his breath, and sat back down. Robyn just laughed. It was about the only thing she could do. She stood up, and began clearing the dishes from the table when the ground suddenly started to shake, and a loud, booming noise was heard.
"What in the world . . . ." she started.
"What's going on?" Mickey asked.
Pluto began whimpering. Figaro let out a startled meow, and tried to hide behind Pluto's legs. The noise started growing louder, and the shaking became worse. Finally, the noise and the shaking stopped, but almost immediately afterward, the roof opened like a tin of sardines, and Mickey, Donald, and Robyn found themselves staring at the biggest rat they ever saw.
"What the heck?" Mickey asked.
"It's Ratzilla!" Donald shouted.
"Shoo!" Robyn shouted, whacking the rat in the snout with her broom. "Shoo! Get out of here! Shoo!"
The giant rat growled, and snarled. Then he reached into the house, took Robyn's broom, and snapped it like a twig. Then he grabbed Donald in his fist.
"Wak!" Donald shouted, then he began trying to pull himself loose. "Hey, what's the big idea?! Put me down, you big palooka! Wait'll I get my hands on you!"
Donald started squawking incoherently, and swinging his fists. He managed to make contact with the giant rat's nose. The rat snarled, and gave a fierce roar right in Donald's face, which nearly blew the duck's feathers clean off. Then he started to leave. Donald continued to squawk, and tried to pull himself out of the rat's grip. Before the giant rat left, however, he turned to Robyn and Mickey, and smirked at them.
"HAAAAA-CHAAAAA-CHAAAA!" he shouted, and then stomped off, laughing.
"What in heavens name was that?!" Robyn shouted.
"It kind of looked like Mortimer," Mickey said. "Only . . . . it couldn't have been . . . . ."
"Who's Mortimer?"
"Oh. Mortimer Mouse. He's what you'd call my rival. See, he's always trying to steal Minnie . . . . Minnie's my girl, you see, and he's done a lot of stuff to me before, just to try to get me away from Minnie. One time, he got me arrested for stealing a baseball, and another time, he twisted my words around in front of Minnie to make me sound like a chauvinist, and then there was the time . . . . . what am I talking about?! That thing just grabbed Donald! I've got to go after it!"
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Did you the size of that thing?! He could crush you like a bug!"
"I know, but I've got to do it. After all, Donald's my best friend!"
And with that, Mickey ran off, with Pluto and Figaro behind him. Thankfully, that giant rat was easy enough to follow. He had left giant foot prints in the ground.
The giant rat stopped at an old dilapidated castle. Once Donald saw it, he groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Oh brother, not another dungeon bit," he said. Just then, the giant rat dropped Donald to the floor.
CRASH!
"Ow!" Donald shouted. Then he got up, and began his famous tantrum bit. "What's the big idea, you big palooka?! Why I oughta . . . . ."
"Eeehhhh, quit your squawking!" the giant rat shouted, as he began to shrink down to size. "It's giving me a headache!"
"Huh?!" Donald shouted, incredulously. "Mortimer?!"
"You got it, Donny boy," Mortimer said.
"What are you doing here?! What's going on?!"
"Have a seat, and I'll tell ya, Donno."
Mortimer snapped his fingers, and a chair appeared from out of nowhere. It slid forward, and practically smacked into Donald, forcing him to sit in it.
"You remember that emerald your uncle brought back from his last trip?" Mortimer asked. "Well, the legend about it happens to be true. I was able to unleash it's powers, and I used them to make the world think Mickey killed you."
"Why didn't you just up and kill Mickey?"
"I would've, but Chernoberus advised me not to. I had to turn Minnie against him, or else I'd never be able to win her over."
"Why you doggone, dirty, little, I oughta . . . ."
Donald was about to get up and pummel Mortimer, but the tall mouse merely stood there, and snapped his fingers. A lasso appeared, twirled, and encircled Donald, dragged him back to the chair, and tied him up.
"Hey! You big palooka! What's the big idea?! Why I oughta!" Donald shouted, and then he began squawking again.
"Pipe down!" Mortimer shouted, as he tied a handkerchief around Donald's bill as tightly as he could.
"That's better," he said. Then he checked his watch. "Oops. Gotta run. I'm having a little ron-days vouse with Minnie. So you just, uh . . . . . sit tight. I'll be back to deal with you later."
And with that, Mortimer began cackling madly, waved his hand, and disappeared into thin air. Donald began writhing around, trying to get loose, but it wasn't going to do him any good. All he wound up doing was wearing himself out. The only thing he could do now was wait for Mickey.