Darkwing Duck reeled back from the punch. He glared at Megavolt. "That all you got?" The hero was clearly in a lot of pain, but he didn't show it. His eyes widened as electricity sparked between Megavolt's fingers. "Of course," Darkwing said dryly. He threw his fist at the rat, only for the latter to duck and electrocute Darkwing in the ribs. He yelped, falling to the hard ground.
Standing over him, Megavolt grinned. "Give up, Darkwing Dork!"
"Never!" Darkwing kicked the villain's feet out from under him. Rising from the floor, Darkwing whipped out his gas gun and took aim. "Suck gas evil doer!"
Dewey's stared at the television set with eyes as wide as his smile. This show was just about the greatest thing he had ever seen. Darkwing Duck was so noble and brave, and everything Dewey wanted to be.
He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich half way in his mouth, but he was distracted from the bite with the show. He had made the sandwich himself before coming to the garage to ask Launchpad to give him a ride to Waddle where Louie was. Dewey would've preferred a sandwich without crusts, but he didn't like to use knives. So he spread his peanut butter on his bread with a spoon and resided to just suck it up and eat the crusts.
When he had come down to the garage, Launchpad had an old television set playing some old cartoon. Launchpad was getting dressed for the day, so in the mean while, Dewey waited in front of the TV.
Finally take a bite, Dewey pulled himself from the screen. "Hey, Launchpad, what's this show called?"
Launchpad came from behind a curtain, patting down his shirt. He glanced at the TV and, seeing what it was, rolled his eyes. "Ugh. That is Darkwing Duck, the single worst show in all of existence." Dewey had almost forgotten that Launchpad didn't like him after being so stuck on the show.
Dewey frowned, but tried not to let Launchpad get his mood down. "How come I've never heard of it?"
"It only plays in St. Canard, but I get St. Canard TV, so..." The end credits song started playing, and Launchpad grumbled. He shut the TV off.
Dewey was about to complain when he thought over what Launchpad had said. "Wait, St. Canard? As in the most fortified city in the world? I thought no one was allowed in or out, and they're super secretive about everything. How do you get St. Canard cable?"
A smirk crossed Launchpad's face. "No one's allowed in or out without permission. I'm from St. Canard and I know people. Now come on, am I taking you somewhere or not? Quit wasting time talking about that caped loser." Launchpad frowned and started towards the limo.
Grabbing his sandwich, Dewey followed behind. "He's just a fictional character. And he's so heroic! Even when he gets knocked down, he gets back up. I mean, he's so brave to fight all those bad guys!" Dewey was giddy, practically skipping.
Getting the the drivers seat, Launchpad said, "Exactly. He's stupid. What kind of idiot keeps getting up, even when they're clearly defeated? I hate people who don't know when to quit."
Dewey was about to argue more, but a glare from Launchpad shut him up. He sighed and got in the limo.
...
Deep in an underwater lab, a certain scientist was getting ready to go grab lunch. He tidied up his desk, putting away miscellaneous tools (Did I borrow this screwdriver from someone? Eh, I don't remember, I'll just throw it in the drawer). He shuffled some loose papers, sticking them in a folder. One took one last check of his lab and shrugged. It was clean enough. Stepping towards the door, he flipped off the light switch.
Someone grabbed him from behind. He tried to let out a scream, but his attacker had their hand over his mouth. His body went stiff and he started hyperventilating.
"I'm going to let you go, and you're not gonna scream, call security or 911, any of that. Got it?" the figure whispered. The scientist nodded. "Good." The figure let him go, and the scientist let out a gasp. He spun around to face his attacker: A brown plumage duck in some sort of gear. "Now, You're Gyro Gearloose, correct?"
Gyro nodded, heart pounding.
"Good. Word has it you have something I want." The duck flipped the lights back on and walked towards the middle of the lab. He began digging through stuff, making a huge mess.
Gathering his courage, Gyro shook himself. "Wait, wait. Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Not even bothering to glance at him, the duck said, "Name's Fenton. You have an invention. I want it. So I'm taking it." Fenton stopped looking through things, deciding he was getting no where, and crossed his arms. "Where are you hiding it?"
Gyro tilted his head at the strange man. "Hiding what?" He took a deep breath. "I... um... would appreciate it if you didn't steal, sir."
"Oh, of course. I didn't know it would offend you. I guess I go home now and think about what I've done." Fenton shot him a dry look, his voice full of sarcasm. Fenton stepped towards Gyro and threw an arm over his shoulder. "Look, I need you're help, so I want to keep you alive. But if you're not going to cooperate, well, I can't make any promises." Gyro gulped and nervously nodded. "So, where are you keeping Project: Blatherskite?"
Gyro's eyes widened at the mention of the project. "Uh, well, that's not exactly public. And it's not done either."
"Well, then finish it. You're smart." Fenton jabbed him in the chest with his index finger before walking across the room. Gyro opened his mouth to speak, but Fenton interrupted. "Come on, we both know half the technology was stolen anyways, so don't get so defensive about it."
The chicken stopped. "H-how did you know that?"
Fenton waved the question off. "Eh, it doesn't matter."
"What exactly do you want with it anyways?" Gyro readjusted his glasses, frowning. Project: Blatherskite was potentially dangerous in dangerous hands, and Fenton's hands were most definitely dangerous hands.
"I want it because it's cool. It's looks pretty useful." Fenton smirked leaning against a desk. "Who knows when a couple of gizmos might come in handy for a bounty hunter like me."
...
Dewey and Launchpad entered Mark's lab to find him, Louie, and Owlson huddled around a train. Louie tugged on his brother's arm, dragging him over to the table. Dewey shot him a confused look. "Check this out," Louie whispered.
Leaning towards the track, Mark hummed at the train. It started moving at his voice at a steady pace. Dewey's eyes widened in surprise.
Mark put his hands on his hips and straightened proudly. "Sound powered train.
"Ha! It works!" Owlson yelled, a grin on her voice. The sudden loudness made the train race around the track. Dewey yelped as sparks flew. Glancing between the train and Dewey, Louie knocked his brother to the floor in defense. Shooting off the rail, the train flew through the air and lodged itself in the glacé of a nearby window.
Everyone was stiff for a moment. Owlson gave a nervous smile. That earned a glare from Mark. He sighed. "Well, it did work. Thanks Zan."
Gathering himself, Dewey pushed his brother off of him. "Thank you Louie, but I think I would've been find without getting the wind knocked out of me." Getting to his feet, Dewey dusted himself off.
Louie ruffled the middle triplet's hair a little too hard. "Just looking out for my little brother."
The three robots from the other day, Lil' Bulb, Jeremy, and Spot as Dewey learned their names were, ran over to the window. Stacking on top of each other, the got the train, but unfortunately the window was still cracked. They brought it over to their creator, who took it from them.
Mark looked over the damage. "Well, it'll take a while, but I think I can fix it." Spot climbed up to his shoulder while her brothers stood on the table.
"Ooh, can I help?" Owlson reached out for the invention, Mark pulled.
"Heh, no thanks. I can do it. You're not really a science person, so..." he took the train back to his desk, Owlson following behind. "I'm the most capable scientist in town, so if I wanted anyone to work on this thing, it's me."
Crossing her arms, she pouted. "Fine. I guess if you don't think I'm 'capable,'" she mumbled. She made air quotes with her hands.
"Can you build a really cool robot?" Dewey had almost forgotten Launchpad was there and assumed he had left. But instead, Launchpad was leaned up against the wall, scrolling on his phone when he had spoken.
Mark rolled his eyes. "Of course I can. I've got three right here!" He gestured at the bulbs, who each had a proud posture.
"No, but like, a really cool one." The bulb's turned red with anger. Launchpad held out his phone to the rest of the group. "Some guy named Gyro Gearloose made one. They're doing a demo this afternoon." The screen displayed a shiny, black robot looking thing, complete with a blue visor on the helmet and a big red G on the chest.
Looking it over, Dewey smiled at how amazing it was. Mark, on the other hand, did not feel the same.
"Gyro Gearloose! That hack! He thinks he can build a better robot, does he!" Mark went off on a frustrated tangent,throwing his hands in the air. He clenched his fists, let out a scream, and kicked at his desk.
Louie raised an eyebrow at the scene. "What's up with him?"
"Eh, it's a whole thing," Owlson said, rolling her eyes.
Mark crossed his arms and huffed. "Gyro Gearloose is the single worst person I've met, and that's saying something when you work with Owlson."
"Hey!"
"We used to be friends, but then he went and stabbed me in the back and stole half my notes and research. Don't let that pushover facade fool you, he's a no good trickster! He used to copy my homework when we were both interning for Dr. Waddlemeyer several years ago." He took a deep breath to calm himself. After a moment he continued. "But it's fine I guess. That was forever ago." He was talking more to himself than anyone else. He marched towards the door. "Come on, let's go see this 'great amazing robot.'" Dewey didn't think Mark sounded like he was over it.
...
Inside the Gizmo suit, Fenton was hot an sweaty. He took off the helmet and gasped for breath. "Hey, doc, next time you should give this thing more ventilation." Running a hand through his hair, he gave Gyro a look.
Gyro nodded. "Noted. Um, are you sure a public demonstration is the best idea? Like I said, it's still in the testing stage and-"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can just fix it with time. I know what I'm doing." Slipped the helmet back on, Fenton rolled his eyes. The sound of a crowd on the other side of the curtain caught his ear. They had set up for the demo in the park at the theater stage. "Well, you better get out their Gearloose." Gyro glanced from Fenton to the curtain, probably questioning to resist his captor. But he thought better of his and stepped outside. Fenton smirked. Good.
From his side of the curtain, he could hear Gyro making a small speech. Sounds of camera clicks were followed by the the hushed silence of the crowd. "And so, as a great addition to our amazing city, I introduce to you..." There was his cue. He rolled out from behind the curtain dressed in the gizmo suit.
The crowd cheered, except for a parrot in the front row who Fenton recognized as Mark Beaks. Others were with him too, a few kids and that girl Fenton hadn't bothered to remember her name after she kept trying to act like there was a thing between them. Cameras were recording the demo for the news and such.
Gyro glanced down at his notecards. "The B.U.L.L.Y. System! It stands for Biological Upstanding Legitimate Lieutenant Yoke." You are horrible at naming things, Fenton thought. "A suit with all the gizmo's anyone could possibly need. With this thing around, Gearloose Tech might just put the police force out of business, heh." Gyro laughed at his own joke, but stopped when no one else laughed. Clearing his throat, he moved on. "If my assistant here could demonstrate something for us?"
Fenton pressed a few buttons, and pie shot from the chest piece. He sighed. Literally anything else would've been cooler.
"Of course, there are still a few bugs, but as practice, B.U.L.L.Y. will patrol the city, watching for danger for now."
"Like a real life super hero!" the duckling in blue with Beaks said, smiling.
Gyro nodded. "Yes, I suppose, and-"
"Boo! Very negative feelings indeed!" Beaks shouted. He climbed up on stage, the owl following him. Fenton hoped he wouldn't recognize him with the helmet and suit on. "Who's to say that this thing won't backfire and blow up or something? And can you really pack that many things in one suit?" Beaks crossed his arms. "Something's bound to go wrong, Gyro." He said the inventor's name in a snarky tone.
"I don't agree, but I'm moral support!" the owl said, copying his body language.
Gyro looked surprised a moment. "Mark, you're embarrassing yourself. Just get off the stage."
"Oh yeah? Well, I bet I could make something a thousand times cooler than your Bully. And also that's a terrible name."
"Yeah, I know," Gyro said, sagging.
Beaks puffed up arrogantly. "Just you wait and I'll-" He was interrupted by his phone ringing. He stopped, pulling it out of his back pocket and reading the caller ID. He seemed indecisive on whether or not to answer it. Finally, he said, "Hang on, I have to take this." He climbed off the stage as he answered it. "Hey mom. Yes, I know I'm on TV..."
The owl glanced between her coworker and Fenton. "Uh, I'm gonna go too. Also, boo the B.U.L.L.Y. system!" She stuck out her tongue immaturely, turned, and followed Beaks.
Fenton smirked. Well, annoying both CEOs of Waddle wasn't his initial plan, but it was a nice bonus.