"Ow, ow, owwwww!" Dewey said.
"I told you not to walk through here without your boots on," Donald grumbled as he pulled briers from his nephew's foot.
"Right. Junior Woodchuck Rule Number 52 states-"
"Ow-I know what your stupid guidebook says. Could you just-ow-not right now?"
"Well, technically, it's our 'stupid guidebook,' since we're all Junior Woodchucks-"
"Shut. Up."
"This is all your fault, you know," Donald said to Scrooge.
"What? Me? I told the lad to put his boots on!" Scrooge protested.
"You should know by now that just telling Dewey to do something is almost never enough to make sure he does it!" Donald said.
Scrooge spluttered. "He's ten! I shouldn't have to nag him to make sure he does what he's told!"
Donald scoffed. "Then you don't know ten-year-olds."
"Of course I know ten-year-olds," Scrooge said, affronted. "It might be hard to believe, but I was one once, you know. And I knew well enough to do as I was told!"
"No, you weren't," Donald said. "You've said it yourself-you didn't have time to be a child."
"But-"
"And don't start saying that my boys are 'soft' for spending their childhood being kids instead of using it as a chance to get a head-start on making their fortunes."
"Hmpf," said Scrooge, crossing his arms and turning his back toward Donald.
"Almost done, Dewey. Just one more to go. It's stuck in pretty deep, though," Donald said.
Huey and Louie moved to their brother's sides, each taking hold of a hand.
"I'm ready, Uncle Donald," Dewey said.
"Ok. One, two, three."
Underneath the sound of Dewey's scream, his brothers could hear the sound of a flock of startled birds fly away.