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Beginnings and Endings

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Beginnings and Endings Chapter 1, a darkwing duck fanfic

Author's Note: Hello! So, its been nearly four years since I've written anything in this fandom, so I'm pretty sure I'm a bit rusty. But, its like riding a bike, you never really forget.

This is actually a continuation of my DWD series. It follows about three years after the events in "Broken Ties". I won't say you HAVE to read the other fics in order to understand everything, but it's probably a bit better if you do? Certain things took place in "Broken Ties" and I tried to leave room for a bit of explanation in cases like that. So, its not mandatory... But you might be a little lost in places...

This will be an interesting spin on the characters, especially Darkwing and Launchpad. Heck, its a twist for all the characters, but mainly those two.

Also, at the start here is meant to be a little glimpse into future events, it then goes back to present time. But, don't worry, I make that clear in the text.

So, hope you all enjoy!



Launchpad McQuack knew he wasn't the brightest guy in the world, nor the strongest, but he liked to think he was the one of most loyal of people around. He liked to think that he always put his friends first before his own needs; especially when it came to Darkwing Duck. But it was at this point in his life that he was starting to have doubts about that. How could he have been so stupid and naive to leave his friend in such a dire time? He knew he shouldn't have left Darwking by himself; he just knew something was wrong.

He was starting to wish he had taken the Ratcatcher or maybe even a taxi, but he had been in such a rush to find Darkwing, he didn't even consider it at the time. Running all the way from Morgana's to Avian Way was no small feet. He ran as fast as he could down the suburban side walk, dread filling him whenever he passed the corner.

He paused in his running for a moment to see the bright hot flames of fire currently billowing out of 357 Avian Way. His heart felt like it had leapt into his throat, his thoughts immediately turning to the worst. Was DW inside!? Was he hurt? Was he-!?

Launchpad forced himself to stop asking inward questions and find out for himself. He ran closer to the house, the only light coming from the cloudy night was from the flames. He was surprised so few neighbors were making a fuss over the fire. Perhaps they hadn't noticed yet? It was close to 2am after all.

It was then he noticed a lone darkened figure standing in front of the house on the side walk. Squinting, Launchpad was just barely able to make out and notice that it was Darkwing, only he wasn't dressed as Darkwing, he was dressed as Drake Mallard.

"DW!" the pilot cried out. He sprinted the remaining distance between them, panting and using his knees as support as he tried to catch his breath. Once he did, he demanded, "W-what happened!? Is everything okay? How did the house catch on fire!?"

Drake didn't answer him; in fact, he hadn't even so much as acknowledged Launchpad's presence. It was as though he didn't hear or see him. Drake just continued to look at the elusive and elegant flames lick away at what was once his house. There was no expression on his face; no sadness, no anger, no guilt, no worry, no anxiety, nothing. His face was blank of emotion.

It was like he didn't even care that his house was currently on fire.

Launchpad tore his eyes away from Drake so that he could watch the house that was his home burn. So many memories: watching Pelican's Island on the couch with the Muddlefoots, all the family dinners with Drake and Gosalyn, all the times they walked over to the blue swivel chairs, all the times Gosalyn wrecked things with her hyper personality...everything. Gone in a burst of flames.

"DW- Look- I know a lot has happened and you've changed a lot the past few days-But-I mean, come on! You're house is currently on fire! You've got to at least have SOME reaction to that, right?" screeched Launchpad, unable to comprehend how his friend was reacting, or in this instance, his lack of reaction. It just didn't make any sense. With all that had happened, sure, it shouldn't be that surprising, but yet it was. This was too much.

Sighing, Launchpad decided to ask another question, knowing Drake wasn't about to answer those ones. "Do you know who did this, DW? Was it one of the Four? They've been stirring up trouble ever since they teamed back up. Or maybe Negaduck- Or some other nefarious villain!?"

Finally, Drake tore his eyes away from the flames. He glanced nonchalantly up at Launchpad, his arms still limp at his side. His gaze made Launchpad shiver; this was not Drake, was it? He looked like Drake, but then again, so did Negaduck without his mask. Was this actually Negaduck? He certainly was acting more like Negaduck than Drake would in this instance. Oh, the poor pilot was so confused in all this craziness.

"Yes, Launchpad...It most certainly was a nefarious villain..." Drake finally replied almost like a robot. There was no emotion in his voice either. It was just cold smooth words. Promptly after answering, Drake turned on his heel and started walking down the sidewalk. Arms still at his side, his movements having little commitment, he walked away from a portion of his life that was going up in flames behind him.

It was only then that Launchpad noticed the can of gasoline and matches in Drake's hands.





Drake Mallard flinched and winced as he was in the midst of washing the dishes, his soapy hands letting the cup drop back in the water, his shoulders raising. Once the loud banging and crashing noises ended, he opened his eyes. "GOSALYN!" he shouted.

He wiped his hands off on a towel and immediately started heading for the stairs. "Gosalyn!" he shouted up the stairs. He could hear cluttering and thuds coming from his daughter's room. Pursing his lips, Drake walked up the stairs. "Gosalyn! Listen little missy! I demand to know what you're doing up here! It sounded like you broke something!" He paused before adding, "Again!"

Gosalyn's door suddenly flew open and she quickly shut it behind her, giving her father a sweet, clearly not innocent smile.

"Hiya, dad!" she greeted him.

Drake, now before her, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't sound like you doing homework, darling daughter of mine..."

"Oh, that? I've actually finished my homework and I've moved on to cleaning my room!" she replied quickly.

In the four years that have passed since Drake adopted her, Gosalyn hadn't changed all that much. She was about a foot taller, but still shorter than her father, which she hated to think about. She still wore her hair in pigtails, though they were slightly longer. Her purple jersey shirt was replaced with a slightly different one; still purple, just with a different logo on it.

And most especially, she was still his high spirited little girl, much to Drake's happiness and occasional chagrin.

Drake was one to talk though when it came to change. The mild-mannered Drake Mallard still wore pastels and sweater vests. Save for a few new stress lines around his eyes and forehead, very little had changed about him. Though Drake wasn't sure if that was from age or the daughter he was currently looking at.

"'Cleaning your room', huh?" he smirked. "That's really what you're going with?"

It was Gosalyn's turn to cross her arms and look condescending. "Are you saying I can't clean my room!? I'll have you know, I do more chores around here than you ever give me credit for!" Drake continued to listen to her rant, taking it upon himself to lean against the wall, crossing his left foot over his right. Gosalyn didn't seem to notice. "You know, I took out the trash this past week every day and did I hear a single word of 'thank you'!? NO! I tidied up the kitchen without breaking any plates while washing the dishes and I haven't clogged the vacuum cleaner in over a month, and the drain in the sink is no longer-What?"

Gosalyn noticed her dad's casual manner and blinked.

"Gos...You're ignoring my question. What was that noise?"

Gosalyn gave a huff before saying, "Fine! I was setting up a hockey ring in my room for Honker and I to use later and my stack of comic books fell over and knocked my lamp to the floor."

"Why were you building a hockey rink in your room? You know I hate it when you play those sort of games inside!"

Gosalyn looked at him as though he was asking why the sky was blue. "Because you won't let me play in the yard!"

"That's because the last time you played hockey out in the yard, you broke not, one, not two, not three, but FOUR of our neighbor's windows!" he reminded her.

Gosalyn glanced away in thought. "Oh yeah..." She considered it for a moment before shrugging it off. "Eh, bygones."

Drake nodded, pulling himself up to stand straight. "Right, well those 'bygones' cost me a lot of money, young lady!"

Gosalyn had the decency to look at least somewhat guilty at that, but that was quickly changed to annoyance."No kidding...That money just happens to be what should be my allowance!" she grumbled.

Drake raised a finger in the air. "Right! 'Should be'...which isn't far off from...'could be'! Gos, that could be your allowance if you would just stop giving me reasons not to give it to you!"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "Then where am I supposed to play hockey at, huh?"

Drake couldn't help but pause and smile. "You can play out in the yard again...Just...try not to break anymore windows...or...anything for that matter. Don't break anything!"

Gosalyn considered his words. "Deal!" They both reached their hands out and shook on it.

Drake cleared his throat. "Now, would you please go and do your homework?"

"I thought you wanted me to clean my room."

"I want you to do both, but its bad enough getting you to do ONE thing, let alone two" he said cheekily. "And your homework has a due date."

Gosalyn stuck her tongue out at him, which earned her an ever bigger smile from her father. Drake turned to head back down the stairs. ""

Drake paused in mid-step, turning his head to look over his shoulder. "Are you going on that date with Morgana tonight?"

Drake sighed and turned to face her. That was not a question he was expecting. Things had been...straining between Drake and Morgana. There wasn't any true proof, but Drake suspected it had to do with the burning of Morgana's home. Roughly three years ago, Negaduck had threatened everyone Darkwing Duck cared about in order to force him to reveal his true identity to all of St. Canard and surrender once and for all.

That of course meant Morgana was one of his victims. Lashing out, Negaduck had taken to burning down Morgana's house, therefore forcing everyone in her house to vacate and left without a home. Her father and Aunt Nasty and the rest of them had all moved away to live with family. Morgana had refused to leave St. Canard and insisted on finding a temporary place to live. She had found one in a decent sized apartment building. It was strange to see her living in such a simple place, but over the last few years, McCawber Mansion was slowly being rebuilt to its former glory. The aid of magic came in handy, surely, but not all the work could be done that way.

Morgana's family had never been a big fan of Darkwing to begin with and to say they didn't blame him for the fire would be a mistake. This led poor Morgana to be caught in the middle of it, not knowing who's side to be on.

For about a year and a half Morgana and Drake had gone on a break, of sorts, in their relationship. Afterwards they tried picking the peices back up in their relationship, but it was slow and rough.

Not to mention awkward at best. They both truly loved each other, but it was hard to see a future together when there was so much hostility. Not to mention, Drake wasn't entirely sure Morgana didn't blame Drake for the fire either.

Drake took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, we're still going on that date."

"You don't sound too enthused..." commented Gosalyn.

Drake shrugged his shoulders. "How am I supposed to sound?" He didn't give Gosalyn a chance to answer. "Gos, you know how things are between us now...Its been hard."

"Why, though?" questioned his daughter. "I mean, sure, her family is all up in a knot still about the house burning down, but so what? You've helped them re-build-" Drake made a face. "Well, okay, you WOULD have helped out a lot if they had let you come within two hundred feet of the house, but that's gotta count for something, right!?"

"Not to them it doesn't" said Drake dryly.

Gosalyn considered him for a moment before suggesting, "Why don't Launchpad and I come over with you."

Mockingly, Drake batted his eyes at her. "Oh, what a LOVELY thought, Gosalyn! It'll be absolutely perfect! What father wouldn't want his daughter and best friend there on a date with him!?"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "Not like THAAAAT!" Drake waited for her to elaborate. "I'm just saying, maybe Launchpad and me should head over too. Cause let's face it, you two won't be having any kind of real date, anyways."

"And just what makes you think that, missy!?"

"Eh, you forget I'm pretty close with Eek, Squeak, and Archie. They've been keeping me on a need to know basis." Drake frowned at this as Gosalyn pressed on. "And they've informed me that you're dates these days are more like awkward meetings. You hardly ever even eat dinner there anymore!"

Drake pouted, knowing he couldn't argue with that. The worst part was that most of what was going on with Morgana's life is helping her family settle into their new lives, not to mention her own new life in her new apartment. And that just reminded them of all their other problems.

"I suppose you two tagging along wouldn't be the end of the world..." Drake relented.

Silence filled the space between them and just as Drake was about to walk down the stairs, Gosalyn spoke, "You still love her, right dad?"

Drake started at this. "Yeah, Gos, of course I do...I don't think I could ever NOT love her..."

"Then it shouldn't be this hard to stand in the same room together..."

Drake sighed, knowing his 12 year old daughter was right about his dating life. It shouldn't be as hard as it has been. Perhaps they've been going about everything the wrong way?

Gosalyn saw that her father was deep in thought and decided now would be the best chance to sneak back into her room without him telling her to clean it or do her homework. Just as she thought she was scot-free he said, "Do your homework AND clean your room, little missy!"

"UGHHHH" groaned Gosalyn loudly before shutting her door.


Morgana heard the knocking and headed for the door, knowing already who was on the other side. Darkwing had phoned earlier to say that Gosalyn and Launchpad would be joining them for the evening. She couldn't help but be relieved. Everything was just so awkward between her and Darkwing; it was unsettling. She still loved her darling, mysterious Dark, but finding things to talk about besides everything currently going on in her life was hard.

Fixing her hair quickly and annoying a grumbling Archie from his spot in her hair, she told herself to calm down and relax. It was going to be more of a friends night than a date night.

She swung the door opened and smiled warmly at the sight of Darkwing, Gosalyn, and Launchpad.

"Greetings, you guys!" she said. "Come on in!"

Launchpad and Gosalyn walked through the door happily enough, both a lot more animated than Darkwing, who took a moment before stepping inside after them. He gave Morgana a wan smile before she closed the door behind him.

"Hello Dark, darling" she cooed. She then knelt down and kissed him on the cheek, which he quickly returned. Morgana straightened up and walked after Darkwing, addressing all three of them. "Make yourselves at home. I know its not quite what it used to be at McCawber Manor, but this place is just as nice."

"We've all been here before, Morgana" Gosalyn said pointedly. "Its been a while for Launchpad and me, sure, but the place wasn't bad then and it isn't bad now."

It was true, for the most part. For an ordinary, "normal" apartment, Morgana managed to use her magic and make it less normal looking. The walls had a dull faded gray paint on them, spider webs covered the walls and ceilings, the furniture was black with a Victorian vampire feel to it, and she had red carpets around the couches and chairs. She has several bookshelves that held all her magic books and potions. It was a quaint little place for a sorceress.

"No, I suppose you're right, Gosalyn" Morgana had to agree. She was actually satisfied with her choice of living space. And it certainly allowed her to be a bit more independent. It didn't mean she didn't miss being with her family, who had outright said they didn't want to live in St. Canard any time soon. "Go ahead and make yourselves at home" she added lamely.

Gosalyn gave her a bored expression. "Yes, you said that already." She promptly sat on the couch. The young red-head could only imagine how horrible Darwking and Morgana's dates were if they were anything like this.

"So, Morgana, the last time we were here you were all worried you'd lost a lot of your family's old artifacts in the move" prompted Launchpad.

Gosalyn perked up at this as Darkwing timidly sat on the couch beside her. He took off his hat and fiddled with it in this hands.

"Keen Gear! That's right! Did you ever manage to find any of that stuff!?" she cried out in excitement.

Morgana nodded, ignoring Darkwing's mild and shy disposition. "Yes, I did manage to find those things! My, that's been a while! Shows how long its been since you two have been over here. I actually haven't even talked to you about them much Dark."

Darkwing proved that he was still alive by raising his head and nodding and actually deciding to speak, "Yeah, I remember. You did mention the one time but then your father came home and-yeah...We dropped the subject after that."

Talk about ruining a conversation.

"Right, well, that wasn't your fault, Dark dearest, just remember that." She walked over to one of the bookshelves and bent down to where some drawers were on the lower half. She opened one up and started pulling out some potions. "These are some of the ones that were recovered from the fire. Thankfully a lot of our oldest and most valuable of potions were kept downstairs, which didn't get nearly as damaged..." She trailed off, knowing it was this very topic that made things so rocky between her and Darkwing.

"So, what do some of these potions do exactly?" asked Gosalyn as Morgana placed them out on one of the shelves to the book case. "And what makes them so special, huh?"

"Well, these potions are so special and often referred to as artifacts because they're one of a kind. Some of our ancestors managed to make some of the most dangerous and difficult of potions and bottle them up. To say we would love to figure out how to remake these potions would be an understatement. Some have tried, but we're so frightened of ruining the potions while trying to discern the ingredients in them, that we've just let them be." She picked up one of the bottles and admired it. "This one is an invisibility potion. Very rare. Some have managed to re-create it but this one is said to have the longest effects." She set the bottle down and started pointing out what each potion did while telling them what all they did.

Darkwing watched intently. This was the first time Morgana had spoken so much in this presence in ages. It felt so wonderful for her to be more like herself and he didn't realize until now how much he missed how things used to be. He made sure to hang on to her every word, just because she missed her so much. "This one is said to help bring someone back from the dead...Though I don't believe in it. That's more something for a spell or curse and even those aren't trustworthy. This one is said to take away a person's emotions. Evidently, when drunk, it makes someone incapable of any kind of feeling...Can't imagine why anyone would ever want to drink there is the one here on the left... This potion is said to help control a person's dreams...Its a bit like the sleeping dust I used from Nodoff...Then these ones are more like poisons..." Morgana finished her rant with a shrug. "They're mainly so special because they're just so old and rare. Nothing more to it than that, really. My family was just happy to have something like these left."

Darkwing winced and looked away. "I'm uh...Glad you managed to find them, Morgana..." he said lamely.

Morgana smiled weakly, happy that Darkwing was clearly trying to make the best of the evening.

Launchpad cocked his head to one side, "So, now that you have them, what are you going to do with them?"

Morgana shrugged, clasping her hands in front of her. "Oh, I'll probably just set them up on display in here somewhere."

Darkwing pulled at his collar and decided to change the subject, "So, Morgana, sweetie, I mentioned the last time we spoke about the St. Canard Benefit being held at City Hall? Its coming up next weekend. Are you still interested in coming with me as my date? The city council has...finally...acknowledged my presence and all my good deeds over the years..." He paused and said on a quieter note, "Though why NOW they've decided to is beyond me...seeing as how these days I'm mainly working free-lance on the Search and Rescue online blogs or at my part time office job..."

Everyone made a face at the mention of Darkwing's part time job. Since the crime rate had been so low the last few years, Darkwing needed to do something with his free time, not to mention an income; so he had snagged a job at the local Transportation Department of St. Canard. He came in a few times a week and helped sort through files. Not exactly the greatest or rewarding job in the world, but it was something.

Morgana nodded. "Of course, Dark darling. I haven't changed my mind. I think it would be nice."

There was a lull in the conversation as Morgana had run out of things to say about the potions. But Gosalyn, being Gosalyn, wasn't about to let things go down without a fight. "So! Since we weren't on the subject and you lot aren't about to talk about anything, how about we talk about the crime in St. Canard!?" Everyone just gave her a perplexed look and said nothing. "Great! So, things have been pretty quiet lately...Morgana, have you been hearing anything on your end about...say...the Fearsome Four...Negaduck...F.O.W.L...?"

Morgana thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No...Like you said, Gos, things have been pretty quiet the last few years, save the occasional crime spree by one of the villains."

Darkwing crossed his arms with a huff, showing the most amount of enthusiasm he has all evening, "You're telling me! How am I supposed to be a mysterious caped vigilante defender of this city if there's no one to apprehend!?"

"Personally I think its been quite the relief! It's to the point where I'm used to not getting interrupted during Pelican Island all day, back-to-back specials or being able to head down to Hamburger Hippo without getting run over by a toy duck or shot at with F.O.W.L.'s newest weapon" chirped Launchpad with a relaxed smile. He sat down on the arm rest of the couch on the other side of Darkwing, who looked up at him fondly.

"LP, I really do wish you would someday stop watching that show. Exactly how many times have you seen all the episodes?"

Launchpad shrugged with a laugh. "I couldn't tell ya, DW, I've lost count a long time ago!"

Darkwing face-palmed; he should have expected that answer.

Morgana ran a hand through her hair, "You know, I have been hearing from Eek and Squeak that Quackerjack's old toy factory hideout has had a lot more comings and goings lately. I sometimes send them out on patrol...It helps them stretch their wings."

Darkwing rubbed under this beak, "Hmm, I'm going to have to watch that closely. Let me guess, they've seen Megavolt hanging around there too?" Morgana nodded. "It seems the past few years have just been a down period for the criminals of St. Canard. I suspect they're in the midst of working on their latest hair-brained schemes...But I'll be right there to stop them if they such much as TRY! Because I am the masked crusader-"

"Yeah, yeah, caped crusader...Darkwing Duck. We KNOW" grumbled Gosalyn with a smile. She leaned over to look at her father more squarely from where she was seated beside him. "I guess I shouldn't be complaining...The low crime rate has allowed you to help me train in crime fighting with you."

Darkwing smiled widely at that. "Yessir, it has! You're getting to be quite the hero these days, Gos!"

Gosalyn nodded, trying not to let it show how much that meant to her to hear him say that. "Right right, well, you just remember those words whenever new crimes DO show up, I don't want you throwing a hiss fit whenever I supposedly "steal your thunder" like you have in the past."

Darkwing gawked at her. "Me!? Never!" He said this mockingly, knowing there was a good chance he would. Both of them knew each other way too well. They all laughed with good humor. Darkwing stretched and gave a yawn, "No...I mean...I can't guarantee anything, but...You're getting old enough and you've been through enough over the years. Its kinda nice having you along these days...Though you KNOW I won't tolerate crime fighting on school nights, young lady!"

At this Gosalyn gave a loud groan of annoyance! "Awww! Come on! We both know that's when ALL the good crimes are going to take place! On school nights! Just my luck!"

She got no remorse from Darkwing. "Not my problem. That's what we agreed on right?" He got a heated grumbling nod from Gosalyn. "You could go crime fighting, with ME, and help LP and I and even fight the bad guys once in a while if its not a school night. Because despite what you believe, school is important!"


Morgana watched the exchange between father and daughter. It was so strange to see Darkwing so candid and relaxed and actually smiling for once. And not just small little brief smiles either. Large smiles that reached his eyes. Actual mirth. How she wished she could make him smile like that, but ever since the burning on the mansion and the large dispute between the family and their hatred for Darkwing, it was difficult for things to be comfortable anymore. Her family insisted on blaming Darkwing for what had happened and being caught in the middle of the feud wasn't helping in the least.

Fretting and wringing her hands together she barely noticed Archie crawl down to her shoulder and nearly jumped when he started grumbling to her. Her eyes widened at his words. "Oh, there's an idea! Thank you, Archie!"

This gained the attention of the three others in the room. "Archie suggests we all go out for a bit of patrol? I don't see the harm in it. We've all agreed the city is pretty quiet these days." She then quickly added. "And its not a school night!"

Darkwing quirked his lips, looking interested before he slowly nodded. "Alright, I like that idea, Morgana." He looked to Gosalyn and LP on either side of him. "What do you guys, think?"

"ALRIGHT! I can just quickly change into my Quiverwing gear!"

"I've got no problems with that, DW. I think it'll be nice for all of us to be out on the streets again. Kinda like old times!"

Bounding off the couch, Darkwing cried out, "Then, leeeet's GO!"


"This is madness...Madness...MADNESS! I TELL YOU!" The infuriated screams echoed through the metal doors and into the alleyways surrounding Quackerjack's hideout, inadvertently scaring an alley cat and causing it to holler in fright and run away.

Inside the hideout lair, the old overhead factory lights were on, though they still caused shadows along the walls which were covered in toys, most of which had eyes that liked to follow everyone that went by. On the far left side of the main room there was a work area that was clearly designated as a "toy free" zone, since all the toys ended and were pushed off and away from that area. There was a separate lower hanging light that served as the main light source for the work bench that was currently being used.

Megavolt, the crazed electrified villain, stood hunched over the work bench in deep concentration. Angry and annoyed mutterings and ravings were spilling out of the rat's mouth as he worked. "Don't start with me, Bulbsy! Just DON'T do it! I shall NOT admit defeat just yet!" There was a pause. "What did you say to me!?" His voice had gone lower with surprise and hurt.

Megavolt stopped what he was tinkering with and whipped around to pick up a small light bulb that was sitting beside him on the bench. He brought the the light bulb up next to his head to listen better. After a moment of listening he turned to look at the light bulb. "I CAN TOO!" he cried out indignantly. Another pause. "I-" He voice got lower and less intense. "You know what, Bulbsy? I thought you were my friend, but clearly...clearly you aren't. Clearly, you not GRATEFUL for me liberating you and saving you from a life of servitude from those enslaving monsters of St. Canard. CLEARLY I should no longer be speaking to you!" For a moment he looked as though he was about to throw the light bulb into the wall, going so far as making the motions to do so, but the light bulb stayed firmly in this blue rubber gloved hand. He sneered at the light bulb, opened the drawer beneath the work bench and placed the light bulb inside with all the other random junk cluttered inside. He slammed the drawer shut, opting to ignore the clattering inside and the faint sound of glass breaking inside. "THERE! That'll teach you!"

He sourly crossed his arms and glared down at what was before him on the work bench.

It was then he heard the faint sound of bells jingling; which wasn't anything new, by any means; but this was the first time all day it had grabbed his attention. He didn't have time to think about it long, for he was expectantly grasped by colorful puffy arms around the neck and was suddenly carrying the weight of his partner in crime on his back. "And just WHAT is making you all fussy and cantankerous over here, Megsy!?" The hyperactive, insane toy-maker Quackerjack asked as he made himself at home on top of Megavolt, who was now holding him as though giving the jester a piggy back ride.

Megavolt growled, wrapping his arms around Quackerjack's legs to better support him. "Oooh...Just Bulbsy giving me a hard time! This has been maddening I tell you!"

"So I heard" quipped Quackerjackas he rested his arms on top of Megavolt's head. He fiddled with the prongs of Megavolt's hat with his fingers.

The electrified rodent didn't even seem fazed that he was currently holding Quackerjack on his back. He motioned to the work bench. "Do you see those things!? Do you!? They're a nightmare!"

Quackerjack peered over Megavolt's plug hat to see what his friend was referring to. There on the work bench was a collection of assorted cell phones. They looked to be all of the same brand and make but they all were slightly different. Perplexed and not understanding the reason for Megavolt's problem, he asked, "So? They're just cell phones...They're all the rage these days...Everyone has them...Little flippy flop phones, right? Though I don't see the little flip flop parts of them. Did you tear them off or something?"

Megavolt shook his head, taking a moment to adjust the weight of Quackerjack on his back. "No, not flip phones. I don't know what year you think it is...But those are practically ancient these days...No, no...These are newer cell phones...They call them...'smart phones'...Though I'm not seeing anything 'smart' about them."


"They're supposedly supposed to "talk to you"...You know, communicate with you...But I haven't been able to communicate with ANY of these cell phones...They refuse to talk to me and I don't LIKE IT!"

Quackerjack's jester hat seem to sag along with his expression. "Aww, they don't want to be your friend?"

"No! They most certainly do NOT!"

"Hmmm...Do you want me to help you take your mind off those rude little phones for a while?"

"That would be lovely..." replied Megavolt pleasantly. He paused and blinked, then looked up at Quackerjack, who looked down at him with his big toothy smile.


"When did you get up there?"

"I've been up here this whole conversation!"

"Oh...Well, get off me!" grunted Megavolt as he flailed his arms and shoved the jester off.

Quackerjack bounced off him with ease. He landed on his feet and bounced in place. "So...While you've been busy at war with the cell phones...I've been planning my new biggest plan!" He gestured for Megavolt to follow him to the other side of the hideout where there was a lot of open space. The first thing Megavolt noticed walking up to Quackerjack's own work space was the amount of toy dolls that were currently lined up on the floor in rows like a little toy army of soldiers.

Once before them, Megavolt couldn't help but ask, "Uhh...Quacky? Why is your floor littered with Whiffle Boy dolls? I mean, I know my brain is fried and my frequencies make my memory horrible, but...Don't you HATE Whiffle Boy toys?"

"Indeed I do, Megster!" whistled Quackerjack proudly as he picked up one of the Whiffe Boy dolls.

"So...why is your hideout currently overflowing with them?"

Quackerjack bit his lip in an attempt to contain his obvious excitement. "Because, Megsy!" he squeaked. "These are actually NOT Whiffle Boy toys!"

Megavolt scratched behind his head, a few sparks emitting from his hat as he thought about that. "Oh...This is starting to make my head hurt just like those stupid smart phones..." moaned the rodent.

Quackerjack leap over to Megavolt and put a reassuring arm around him before shoving the doll in question in this hands. "No worries, Megsy! No worries! I shall explain it all to you to ease your fried brain's pain!" He laughed before continuing. He pointed to the doll and started explaining. "See, these are actually all replicas of the newest Whiffle Boy: Adventures in Time doll-They have yet to reach stores and they never will! I am going to be replacing all the REAL Whiffle Fiffle dolls with my OWN!" He burst out into maniacal laughter.

Megavolt studied the doll. "Okay...Couple questions..."

Quackerjack stopped his laughing and looked at his fellow villain curiously and beseechingly. "Uh, huh, do tell."

"First off...Why would you want to give out Whiffle Boy toys? Isn't that like...completely against your code as a toy-maker? You're making and distributing something you loathe and despise? That would be like me going door to door selling light bulbs willingly into slavery..."

"I told you! Those aren't actually Whiffle Boy!"

"Okay, then...secondly...or is it thirdly? Anyways, what makes them different from Whiffle Boy dolls? They look identical."

Quackerjack took the doll away from Megavolt and raised a finger in the air. "THIS is what makes them so different!" He pushed a button on the doll's chest and instead of the catchy phrase that was supposed to be said, the doll exploded. Quackerjack hardly flinched at the small explosion despite it having been in this hands. Megavolt on the other hand cowered and shielded his face with his arms. "They explode instead of talk! I made replicas and instead of putting little voice boxes inside them, I put small explosives!"

"Are you INSANE!?"

"Disturbingly so, yes."

"Well, alright..." yawned Megavolt with a wayward glance into space. "So...Now what are you going to do with them?"

"I'm going to sneak into the Whiffle Boy distribution factory and replace these ones with the REAL ones!"

"To what end?"

"To what end!? TO WHAT END, HE ASKS!?" hollered Quackerjack as he pulled down on the ends of his hat in consternation. "I'll tell you to what end! By replacing the dolls...everyone will think it was the Whiffle Boy company's fault! They'll all blame the nastiest of nasty: Mr. Meddle! The creator and CEO of Whiffle Boy! That's why I made my toys identical to HIS! Because mine are deadly...therefore everyone will think Whiffle Boy toys are deadly, meaning everyone will stop buying them to save their precious little brats from harm and that will BANKRUPT Whiffle Boy!"

Megavolt smiled this, thoroughly impressed. "Wow, Quacky! That's pretty clever!"

Quackerjack blushed and bowed. "Thank you...Thank you!" He acted as though he was in front of an audience.

"So, when do we box these up and replace them?"

Quackerjack smiled fondly at the word "we". "Actually, these ones here are just extra. The ones we'll be shipping off are already boxed up."

"Is this the big project you've been working on for ages now?"

"Yes sir, a year and a half!" crowed Quackerjack.

"Impressive..." sighed Megavolt. He placed his hands on his hips and looked around. "Say, you've been working on this for a year and half?" He didn't wait for an answer. He just looked at Quackerjack suspiciously. He pointed a finger at the jester accusingly. "This isn't the FIRST time you've told me this plan of yours, IS IT!?"

Quackerjack popped a piece of gum into his mouth before answering. "No, of course not." he answered causally as he chewed his gum and put his hands behind his back. "I may have lost count, but I'm pretty sure this is the 72nd time I've had to explain this to you. You ask me pretty much once a week." Megavolt passively nodded as Quackerjack played with his gum.


Author's Note: Well, there is the first chapter! I hope to have the second chapter up and rolling soon. I have lots of plans for this fic, I just hope it doesn't fizzle out. Its so fun being back in this fandom again! I've missed these characters SO much!

Also, Mr. Meddle belongs to me. He is an original character I came up with for "Toymaker Madness". Everything else belongs to Disney.