This takes place right after "The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!" You have been warned.

It felt odd to wake up in a swishing boathouse. The room so dark, so hard, and so small. It had been at least a few months since he was last in this all too familiar environment.

Huey forced his eyes open, rubbing the layers of crust that grew in his eyes all throughout the night. His eyelids felt heavy, his whole body felt heavy. And yet he wasn't hungry. After all that had happened yesterday, he wasn't hungry. He was quite parched, though. This throat also felt sore. Probably from all the yelling.

Huey slid off the bed and looked behind him. They were all in Uncle Donald's room. His uncle having one side of the bed and his brothers squeezing themselves onto the other side. Huey remembered having to take the edge of the bed while the other two fought for the rest of it. Taking a look at it now both appeared to be sharing the same space. Dewey was on the bottom while Louie was sprawled along the top of his older brother.

He couldn't help but grin a little. Sure, he didn't feel the happiness welling up in his chest, but he could feel his muscles pulling up his lips at the sight of his two brothers. He loved family so much. Maybe even a little too much.

Huey shuffled out of the bedroom, the soft rocking of the boat calming him. As he walked through the tight hallway and into the small kitchen. Nostalgia was clinging in the air. He could feel it all around him, but he couldn't breathe it in.

After arguing for the entire night, he felt empty. They all did. It called for a good night's rest, but Huey stayed up almost all night. It wasn't until the digital clock read "4:00" in it's bold, blocky red lights that Huey fell asleep.

The time on the microwave read "6:11". Only two hours of sleep. He could manage, he told himself. Huey kicked the kitchen step stool over to him and used it to reach a coffee mug in one of the cabinets. His fingers were rung loosely around the handle of the mug as he stepped off the step stool, not even bothering to close the cabinet.

He dragged himself to the coffee pot, not noticing that it was empty, let alone plugged in. His eyelids became heavy and his mind began to float away all of a sudden.

SMASH!

Huey gasped, a shot of adrenaline shooting through his body. For a moment he felt awake. A loud clatter filled the kitchen as the empty coffee pot escaped from his other hand and hit the hardwood floor as well.

He stood there, trying to process what happened. The adrenaline immediately died down, the tiredness kicking in once again.

"Is everything alright?" Huey looked up to see who was talking.

It took a few seconds for Huey to register who it was. "Oh! Hey, Uncle Donald." He yawned right afterward.

Donald ran over to see what had happened in the kitchen. "Is everything alright?" he repeated.

"Yea," Huey said, bending over to pick up the unscathed coffee pot. Donald bent over and began picking up the pieces from the broken coffee mug. "Sorry about breaking your mug."

The two of them came back up. Donald looked over at Huey and grinned. "It's okay," he said, his voice warm.

Huey placed the coffee pot back, walking out of the kitchen. "I'll grab the broom," he said.

As he walked out, two more ducks entered into the kitchen.

"What was that noise?" Dewey asked, his voice almost gone.

"And why am I awake? I thought I was gonna sleep in!" Louie said, his voice also hoarse but not as gone as Dewey's.

Huey came back in with broom and dustpan in hand and give it over to Donald.

"Thanks, Huey," he said.

Huey yawned in response before shuffling over to the small, circular dining table.

Donald began sweeping up the smaller bits of the coffee mug. "Good morning, boys." He was too tired to sound cheery.

"Mornin' Uncle Donald," Louie rasped out. "What's for breakfast?"

Donald picked up the dustpan. "I dunno yet. Do you and your brothers wanna search for some cereal or something?" he asked.

Dewey yawned. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

The two turned to Huey, who was fast asleep at the table. Louie turned around and walked over to the fridge. A mix of terrible stenches wafted to the young duck's nose as he opened the fridge.

"When was the last time we ate anything out of here?" he asked, waving his hand. He slammed the fridge door closed and opened the freezer.

Everything was frozen over or expired, that included the ice cream to Louie's disappointment. The food that wasn't expired was sure to have freezer burn. The only thing that wouldn't taste like the freezer and that wasn't expired was a half-empty bag of chicken nuggets.

"How about chicken nuggets for breakfast?" Louie offered.

Donald tied up the garbage bag. "Is that the only thing we have?" he asked, walking out of the boathouse.

Dewey inspected the cabinets and cupboards. All the cereal was expired, the pancake mix was nothing but an empty box, and the cans of spagettios were at least a year past expiration.

"Looks like the chicken nuggets are the only thing we have," Dewey said as Donald walked back in.

"Alright then," Donald said. Louie tossed him the bag.

Huey woke up again, looking around. "Huh?" he said, his voice raspy and groggy.

Dewey turned to look at his older brother. "We're having chicken nuggets for breakfast," he said.

Huey groaned. "You know I hate chicken nuggets!"

Louie walked over to him. "It's either chicken nuggets or moldy cereal!"

Huey sighed, not wanting to strain his voice any further by arguing. "Fine," he said.

He had to admit, things almost felt normal. Him and his brothers back on the houseboat with Uncle Donald making whatever they had for whatever meal it was. The soft rocking of the boat in the sea water was noticed by no one.

The only thing that was missing was the smell of fresh, black coffee.