Spanning more than 90 years of art from across the globe, this collection of short stories celebrates the fictional character in all its horrors, from the oil monster of FernGully to the demon kings of Blue Exorcist's Gehenna. Beginning with the bla...
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Hearing someone clear their throat, you hesitantly turned your head to see a vexed Huey standing at the end of the sofa closest to the entrance. The neurotic duckling was tapping his foot on the floor impatiently and looking back and forth between Louie and you, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Upon noticing the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook clutched to his chest, you immediately understood the motive for his unhappiness.
A deep frown settled on Huey's face as he blinked and angled his head upwards slightly, glare halting on his youngest brother. "Why is the TV still on?"
Louie merely shrugged and removed a hand from his pocket to place an arm around your shoulder, gaze never leaving the television. "Mmm, 'cause I still got five minutes?"
The older triplet's eye twitched as he tilted his head and leaned forward, a strained smile beginning to stretch from ear to ear. You looked down at Louie's hand and grabbed a fistful of your shirt, feeling his grip tighten.
"Actually, your session ended five minutes ago. Five minutes and twenty-three and a half seconds ago to be exact."
The lackadaisical duckling abruptly tugged you closer to him and rested his head on yours, smiling smugly. "Huh, guess my watch is a little slow." It was a warning for Huey to get off his case, but the neurotic duckling was nothing if not persistent.
He raised his beloved guidebook to his mouth and sunk his teeth into its spine, pulling both sides of the book in opposite directions before lowering it and shouting, "You don't have a watch!"
His hands were trembling, and his gaze shifted to you, silently demanding that you take his side. Louie had long since made it a habit to dance around the truth and purposefully elicit this type of reaction from his eldest brother, but you knew better than to play favourites. The last time you attempted to manipulate your way to freedom Louie had sniffed out your scheme instantly and sparked a nasty confrontation.
Pursuing your new strategy of flying under the radar, you kept your mouth shut and returned your focus to the television. Huey, infuriated by your rejection, marched in front of the two of you and obstructed your view. "It's my turn now, Louie. You got the exact amount of time we agreed to, plus an extra five minutes and twenty-three and a half seconds."
Louie finally met his brother's gaze and simply offered a lazy smile. "Yeah, but," he countered, kicking his feet up and sinking further into the sofa, "I had to listen to Scrooge eat breakfast for most of it, so that earns me another half-hour at least."
Huey bit into his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook again, breathing quickening as his face began to turn a bright, cherry red. "That's not how math works," he screamed before raising a hand and pointing the tips of his fingers in the direction of the dining room, a hint of confusion entering his wrathful visage. "Also, that doesn't even make sense. Scrooge ate lunch, like, an hour ago."
