Donald Duck X Panchito Pistoles X Jose Carioca : YOU ARE OUR SUNSHINE

CHAPTER 1

YOU ARE OUR SUNSHINE, A POLYAMORIST FANFICTION

written by sampea

(Please note that I may not update on this fanfiction, right away.)

CHAPTER 1: UNEXPECTED HAVEN

******

(PRESENT TIME)

How...How could she?

Donald sat near the window, one hand under his bill, his eyes exhausted and depressed. Traces of former tears were still visible, too. Sadness like no one could describe. Stupid, nosey Daisy...

*****
(PAST TIME)

It had all begun when Donald was home from work that day. He had been greeted by the sight of his furious wife , holding letters in one hand and the other in a fist, down on her hip.

''Care to tell me what this is, Donald Duck?'', she had almost spat with venom, her eyes sending daggers.

Donald, upon examining the names on this letter, had had a look of pure alarm on his face.

''W-W-W-Where did you find these?''

She had replied in a venomous voice: ''In your closet, somewhere in a box...So...Hiding something from me?''

She went on, opening a letter with a sly, evil smile, clearly enjoying his pain at her discovering something so secret. ''Jose Carioca, who would have guessed it? And Oh! I see a different name! Panchito!'' Daisy began to slow down her walk, until she came to a stop...Her voice was now low and positively sinister...

''Wait...there's more...You fucking made LOVE TO THEM!!!''

Trembling with terror, poor Donald stammered, raising his hands and shaking them in a defensive gesture.

''No-no, Daisy, please let me-''

''YOU CUNT!''

SLAP!!

A powerful thwack sent him tumbling down on their bed, a tomato-red, burning mark on his right cheek.

An insane, wounded smile plastered on her features, Daisy proceeded to slowly raise the letters to Donald's eyes and slowly, SLOWLY ripped them into shreds in front of him. She panted as she did so.

''You think this is funny? Huh? To dump your own wife for these silly faggots? They are of the fucking devil and SO ARE YOU.''

Donald gasped in horror as his only tokens of his lover's existence were destroyed to smithereens.

Daisy panted, again, seemingly pulling herself together...until she pounced on him and began showering him in punches to his face. The cocktail of the sickening sound of her fists's impact on Donald's skin mixed with his strangled wails of anguish echoed all through their bedroom.

***

After what seemed like an eternity, Daisy finally stopped her violence and just threw Donald out, spat on him and said:

''Get the fuck out, you fucking slut from Sodom. Go to hell. And if you ever open your bill about this to anyone, I'll make sure you spend all eternity in PRISON...''

Donald, still dripping with blood and covered in sore, scorching spots, mostly on his mug, only sniffled, struggling to keep a sob down and begin walking as thunder began to gently rumble...

*****

(PRESENT TIME)

Panchito and Jose were drinking mugs of coffee at their humble kitchen table. But hey, what more could you expect when you lived almost next to a bar held by mafia members? At least, they had their hidden, but colorful bar themselves that combined Jose's love of his home Brazil and Panchito's memories of his beloved Mexico. There was not one soul that they could not cheer up when said souls came to visit their project of a lifetime. That was...until Donald came along. He was certainly not a drag-queen nor a mafioso, nor a straight man getting in ''out of curiosity'' nor a cop. Who would have imagine what would follow, next?

***
(PAST TIME)

The anthropomorphic duck had passed quietly under the Brazilian parrot's beak and sat at the very bottom of the bar-cabaret and no amount of colorful music could lift the poor man's depleted expression off his soul. So much, that after many side-glances from the parrot and the rooster throughout that evening, Jose had finally prepared a Piña colada and had walked over to Donald's table.

***

''Hey...Can we offer you a drink?''

Donald rose his head up slowly, showing an exhausted look of surprise to the stranger in front of him.

''It's on the house.''

For what seemed like very long minutes, the duck looked at Jose's encouraging, but compassionate smile then at the drink, several times. Until he finally slowly pulled the drink towards him, his eyes fixed on the table.

''...Thanks...''

Jose smiled brighter, ''You'll see, there's nothing that can comfort better than a great Piña colada, with fresh coconut cream!''

Donald gave out a ''pfft'' as well as a half-smile, before returning to his gloomy expression instantly. The green parrot nodded in concern, surely this poor man must have gotten in a fight outside, judging by his black eye. He turned his head around and walked over to a small penguin waiter carrying two flavored iced teas. He whispers in his ear and pointed discretely towards the lonely guest and the penguin, after looking, nodded in understanding, before proceeding ahead.

Jose had guessed his next moves right, for after a while, Donald no longer tried to hold a record for longest staring at the table and actually paid attention to the performances on the stage further away from him, like that feminine trio that sang ''Blame it on The Samba''. By the end of the evening he even clapped with a smile.

Thus, had begun an unexpected little ritual for the anthropomorphic duck. Whenever there was a day where Daisy threw a tantrum of jealousy and he paid the price with his body, he would wait until she was sound asleep to tiptoe out of their house and risk his way into the dark of the night to Jose and Panchito's bar. And over the course of time, the duo began to bright up and greet him warmly every time he walked the door and came downstairs.

Panchito wondered where on Earth those weekly bruises came from, but every time he tried to ask the duck, his parrot partner always silenced him with a stern, knowing look. For all Jose knew, this duck named Donald could be one of them and be getting bullied daily by religious people or street gangs. God only knew what he could have been through, and it was certainly not their duty to remind their guest of the brutality every time he came...

So, instead, Jose would every now and then asked him simple questions like what he did, today, what did he think of Panchito's famous nachos and guacamole and what not. And Panchito, for now at least, grudgingly followed the parrot's lead.