KnightstrikeYou are worthless-The city of St. Canard-what makes you think-an ideal spot for the- family of five found murdered, no leads at this time-Just look at all of the good you’re doing-three escape from prison-everyone loves you for it-Listen, Dark, I have to go. He’s my father after all-Ha ha ha-we just haven’t been the same lately maybe some time apart-take that-will be good-you’re finished duck-after all I might not be back for a while-I’ll be back Darkwing Duck. Mark my words-“Something…”-Good by Darkwing-“Morg?”-Good Bye, - “Something tells me”- you’re Dead- Duck-“Something tells me my life just got a whole lot more complicated”—wait—Bang--“STOP”.
Drake Mallard snapped upright jarred from the nightmare by his own unconscious scream. As his head fell foreword in embarrassment, a bead of sweat rolled down his bill and off its tip into his limp open hands.
Pushing aside the covers he stepped silently out of bed as he had every afternoon for the past six months. “Sleep’s no good. If my body’s resting my brain is going so I’ve gotta keep moving to rest my mind.” He stepped into --- position. The nightmare was never exactly the same it followed the current headlines, the current newsflashes the current, “failures.” The word’s bile flavor made his lips purse. The end was different...it was always the same. His right side worked he shifted to the left. “Ichi; One.” Why did she have to l…”ni; Two.”
The rest was lost as his thoughts were drowned by the waves of repetitive motion.
~~~~~~~~~~~
As the sun set on the city, the glow of streetlights caused a false dawn. This was Candy’s favorite time of day. She loved the color of the neon lights, of the sun as its disappearing reflection covered the modern mirrored buildings downtown. Going downtown wasn’t as bad as the other girls thought; going home was the hard part.
Candy leaned closer to the window so her reflection wouldn’t block the scenes of the passing streets. Watching the world from a speeding car was the closest thing to a movie she had seen in a long time, if you didn’t count last week--if you’re in a film you can’t really enjoy it anyway, besides who calls that entertainment. The white walled business district gave way to shorter stores, sidestreets and breaks in sewer mains. As the police car rolled over the tracks—“God, how campy. This town actually has a set of ‘tracks’”—shady characters scurried back into the alleys. Rosa the bag lady was feeding her cat and herself out of a garbage can. In the doorway of a partially boarded tenement, two of the sweetest kids Candy knew were sitting; they weren’t smiling but the bloated form in the wifebeater behind them was. “F’ing bastards,”she looked at the cops in the front seat. ”What do they care if some sweatshop’s kids are being sodomized by her @sshole boyfriend.” The car stopped short, as if Cop #1 had heard what she was thinking.
“Here ya go, Candy.” Cop #2 opened her door then went back to the passengers seat.
“You be good, Sugar,” Cop # 1 leered, “I don’t wanna have to 'handcuff' ya any time soon.”
“Yeah, your wife’ll wonder where the money in the cookie jar’s goin’.”
“Too bad he don’t have a Candy jar…” Cop #1 silenced #2.
“Well she won’t have to wonder this time,” #1 said as he rolled up his window.
“Wait a minute,” Candy tried to open the door. “Bastard, you owe me!” She was beating her fists against the window, but had to jump back as the car peeled out. “Shit.”
Cop #2 looked back at the stamping figure. “Should we’ve done that?”
“What’s she gonna do, huh? Tell someone? Come on, who do ya think people’ll believe an officer of the law or a whore?”
Candy composed herself. “Damn, there goes rent.” She struck a pose against a plate glass window. Perhaps the night could be salvaged after all. She had just adjusted her breasts when the streetlight flickered and went out. “Shit. Now what?” She looked up to see a –was he a hamster or a rat? —in a yellow jumpsuit removing the bulbs from the 20 ft. post. “Hey big boy wanna come down and see me?” What the hell it was worth a shot.
“Whoo boy, buddy, this is your lucky night: freedom and a lady! Have fun.” He tossed her his newly acquired bulb. “I’d stay to watch, but I’m late for the party. See ya!”
He jumped from the pole and ran toward the abandoned hotel at the end of the street. Candy looked at the light bulb. “Shit.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The old hotel, dormant for years, was a shell of what it had been. The inside all but gutted of its gilding and recently furniture had been disappearing into antique refurbishing shops on the Upper East Side.
The man in the yellow suit climbed into the old birdcage elevator. The thing hadn’t run in about 35 years, but just a touch to the lever, “and up we go. Beats taking the stairs, don’t ya think?” he was talking to a little 25 watter he pulled from his sleeve.
“ I can’t believe I had to check my battery with the coats, “ Megavolt sulked to the baby bulb.
Mr. Bananabrain danced, “Yeah, they said gentlemen can be trusted without weapons, but“ Quackerjack tossed the doll aside, “I still don’t understand why they took the rest of my toys.“
“Come on you guys, not now” Bushroot shook his leafy hands in a stop motion.
Liquidator burbled, "Yes keep it cool till we find out what this is all about." His girls danced:
What’s it about? What could it be? Why are we here? It’s a mystery!
"Quiet you!" Negaduck snarled his way through the chorus line. “ All of you sit-down and shaddup!”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“Sorry, Boss.”Negaduck looked around. An uneasy, queasy feeling was creeping into the pit of his stomach. He was used to giving, not receiving, bad vibes and he didn’t like this one bit. He would have burned his invitation but he couldn’t afford to not be seen tonight. Every major criminal on the Eastern seaboard was there; there hadn’t been a gathering like this since Phinneas Sharp had tried to auction off “ The List”. The room had been refurbished to a plush 'T'; most of the saps were smiling, sipping free champagne. He knew there was more to this than crackers and crudités.
A slight whine of feedback cut through the hum cauterizing conversation. The source was Steelbeak who was fumbling with his podium’s control panel. The wall behind him blinked and displayed the FOWL logo.
Tap—Tap—Tap—“ Eh, ‘ello my criminal colleagues. FOWL thanks you all for gracing us with your pres-e-ance this evening.”
Something’s wrong. Negaduck couldn’t place his finger on it the normally suave cock was acting like a capon. Neg’s observations were interrupted by the blare of trumpets as the FOWL march began to play.
“Our grac-e-ous hosts would now like to say a few words," as Steelbeak and the anthem finished the wall blinked again and the shadowy trio of High Command appeared. They spoke in turn.
“FOWL appreciates your attendance for this series of glorious events.”
“First, the inductions. You have been selected to become leaders in the world’s greatest crime syndicate.”
“Welcome to FOWL.”
A tumultuous murmur rippled through the crowd. Negaduck jumped up, kicking his chair out behind him.
“[Damn it] I knew something about this soiree stank.” He pulled a Derringer out of his sleeve, “ Sooo you want all of us to work for you? Well I don’t work for no one but me. See?”
“We were afraid some of you would feel that way, “ Negaduck felt the cold steel of a gun press against the base of his skull. “You have been selected, you will join us. See?” The sound of cocking guns echoed through the room. Panicked the guests looked around to see armed eggmen step out from behind the thick, velvet drapes that had obscured the windows. More troops filed in through the doorway.
Fuming Negaduck sat down and felt the barrel retreat. Frag it. Stupid biznatches.
“We can sympathize, but it really is in your best interest to comply.” The crowd settled slightly. “Good, now for the next order of business. This is a time of change for all of us.”
”Tonight, we of High Command revoke our status and descend into the ranks to join you in the struggle for world domination and to make way for our new Supreme Commander.” The image of the amorphous form formerly known as high command flickered and was replaced with a shot of the back of an ominously large leather armchair.
Slowly the chair swiveled around, its occupant veiled in shadow except for the glint of light that scintillated off one metallic horn.
To be continued...
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Disclaimer. So far everyone except for Candy and the crooked cops belong to Disney. As always this is for fun not profit. Don't sue I have no money. :) Any similarity to other fan work is conicidence this has been on the backburner in one form or another since 1991.
J. Guy 1991-2001