Friday, June 26, 2009

Ducktales: Twenty Years Later - Episode 11

Here's the next one. Enjoy it, or else!


Episode 11:

The Baiano breezes rushed through the gaps between the buildings that made up the Capital of Happiness. Salvador de Bahia, a center of culture and music, of carnivals and festivals. The capitol of beautiful Bahia, Brazil, with fifty kilometers of blue and white beaches spread across the coast, where palm trees sway and the men and women and children and women frolic over the sands, taking the time to escape from their insubstantial lives if only for a second, to be taken in by the warm embrace of the sea and sun.

Within the city proper, in the area known as the Pelourinho, a small building, relatively new, but modeled quite obviously on the colonial architecture that surrounded it, contained the seed of commerce and prosperity. Above, a sign signaled that this was one of the many pousadas spread around the Palourinho, bearing the English phrase "Bed & Breakfast" in smaller text underneath. It couldn't have had more than two or three rooms to it, and it was known more for its breakfasts than its beds.

It had been nearly one year since the fateful escape from the Khan building in Bombay, and José Carioca, making the easy transition to a born and bred Baiano that comes easy to a natural social chameleon like he and his family, had taken in the four exiles. They, in return, funded the Bed & Breakfast with a portion of the money they had in Huey's swiss account. Using this base, Dewey and José became partners, uniting Dewey's head for business with José's taste and romance to set up a small retreat for lovers in the middle of Salvador, with all the intimacy they require, and none of the overwrought bustle that comes with the larger hotels and hostels closer to the coast.

Over the past year, charming José had been the public face of the pousada, making sure every single couple that came across their threshold was pampered and coddled, and given the most pleasant time they could ever require. The business had been good so far, as José's personal touch earned the B&B a lovely reputation, and, to Dewey's relief, a fairly long waiting list well into the year. Salvador's love affair with Zé's Pousada had been a long and smooth one so far, but Dewey, whose sense of business knew enough to understand when the tides change, wasn't up for relaxing yet.

The summer, their second in Salvador, was fast approaching, and as such, the preference for more intimate, romantic atmospheres surrounding the spring, fall, and winter months would fall away to the hustle of summer tourism. They couldn't compete with the larger hotels by the sea in the coming months, so Dewey had to focus on simply surviving until their busier months, when they would be on top once again.

At the moment, they had a single couple staying at Zé's. A tall, gangly stork and his newlywed wife, for whom the grace period of love and acceptance was still in full swing.

"Don't eat that. It will go right to your hips," said the man, in straw hat and thin Hawaiian shirt.

His wife did not seem fazed, and continued eating the plate of breakfast meat that had been placed in front of her. "You're one to talk."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You've been loading up on fatty foods for weeks. I've been dieting to fit into the dress. I think I'm allowed to cut loose on our honeymoon."

"I have not. I've been the picture of strapping health."

"Strapping health subsists on two chocolate bars a day?"

"At least I can still wear the same clothes I wore in college."

The cool way in which the two spoke such nastiness with each other put strange chills up Huey's spine as he, in his little uniform of white shirt, red vest, and little black bowtie, walked up to speak with the beautiful bride.

"Is everything alright? Need a refill on anything?"


The clipped answer caused Huey to twitch, "Alright then. Have a pleasant Breakfast." He then turned to walk away.

Off, away from the intimate breakfast nook, through the employee area, and through the kitchen, Huey walked, before he sat on the little chair spitting distance from the kitchen. Huey leaned back and marveled at the fact that, from Rosalina, Maria, and Amalia's perspective of listening at doors and spying through keyholes, those two cold turkeys outside have the best sex imaginable.

"Hello, Huey."

Huey jumped to his feet, and soon was forced back to his seat by the combined weight of three parrot girls climbing all over him.

"Oh! Hi girls."

"Hello Huey," said the three girls again, showing the extant of the English they had learned in the year since they had first met the Duck family. Rosalina, the de-facto leader of the group by virtue of knowing the most English, continued, "Still letting the Storksons get you down?"

"It's just so depressing. It's like they're barely tolerating each other. There's no passion!"

The girls giggled, "There was last night, AND the night before."

"And will again tonight!" said Maria, the second most educated of the girls in the language arts, "Is last day. How romantic."

Amalia only nodded and sighed, understanding her sisters from context.

The three parrot girls and Huey had been dancing a close and dangerous dance ever since they had all been assigned their roles in the B&B. As per his nature, Huey had been giving the so-called "Time of day" to each of the three girls in turn, while also trying to keep that fact away from both the other two girls, and from their Uncle José, who would certainly not be amused. For his part, this flirtation had started innocently enough, as all three girls were naturally flirty, and were all clearly into him.

He stood up, pulling away from the three of them, before turning and smiling nervously, "Well, sex or no sex, I need to go get them their check." He began to turn away from the girls, smiling the whole way, "Could you go and tell Dewey they're almost finished with today's breakfast?"

The girls, from their perches around and on top of the lucky chair, grimaced.

"Dewey? I don't like Dewey much, Huey," began Rosalina.

"He is so Cheap!" continued Maria.

Amalia then finished the sentiment vulgarly in her native tongue.

Huey smiled much warmly now and wagged a finger at the girls, "Now, ladies, you know Dewey is the one around here keeping your uncle from going out of business." He nodded. "He may be a cold fish, but he's a natural at making money."

The three chorused, "Okay!" before they each blew Huey a kiss. Huey had a moment of panic, where he wasn't sure which of the imaginary kisses flying towards him he should do something adorable with, like catch out of the air and place on his cheek, or eat, or something along those lines. He settled for a protracted motion where he caught all three at once and stuffed them in his pockets for later, which seemed to go over well with the giggling crowd as they departed deeper into the Employee area, towards the linen closets and offices.

As they entered the thin hallway, one following the other like a line of baby quail, they saw Webby coming out of one of the closets with an arm full of fresh sheets. She was wearing a sensible black uniform and sensible shoes that were just a half an inch of leather away from being work boots.

"Ms. Vanderquack!" They all said with their usual bright tone for the woman, a fair boss who had just enough stern ugliness when mad to command respect, while also being warm and considerate enough to listen when things went wrong that weren't the girl's faults.

"Girls," said Webby, lowering the linens to let her eyes settle squarely on the ring leader Rosalina's, "what have I told you about our names."

Maria and Amalia simply looked ashamed as Rosalina parroted back, "We shouldn't use your real names."

"Correct. While we stay in Salvador, I am Ms. Beakly. Dewey is Deuteronomy Coot, Louie is Louis Duckworth, and; And you should listen close to this one, girls; Huey is to be called Hubert MacQuack. Understand?"

"Yes. Ms. Beakly."

"Good," She began to pass the girls in the hall as she spoke, "On your way."


Webby stopped, and tilted her head, "Yes?"

Rosalina twined her hands together and spoke, "Please Ms. Beakly, could you speak to... Mr. Coot for us? Huey... er... Mr. MacQuack... wants us to tell him the guests have nearly finished eating."

"Why ever can't you do it, girls?"

Maria and Amalia mimicked their cousin's position, as Rosalina went on, "He doesn't like us Ma'am. He is cold, like the fish. It feels like he does not want to see us, even when we are at our most friendly."

Sighing, understanding what the girls think it means to be 'friendly' to one of the opposite gender, nodded, "Fine. I'll speak with him." She then handed the armful of sheets to Rosalina, who distributed the pile among the others. "You take these to all three rooms, NOT just the one we have a guest staying in. Understand?"

"Yes Ms. Beakly."

"Good." She waved them off and they went, like a small sexy stampede, towards the exit and into the pousada proper. Shaking her head and smiling, Webby turned back up the hall and began walking towards the main office. She knocked.

"What?" said the voice inside.

"It's me, Mr. Coot."

"Oh! Ms. Vander... er... Beakly. Come in!"

She did, stepping inside her boss's office. It was quite small, taking up just the smallest corner of room from the building, but was consequentially uncluttered and very well-organized. Webby had noted long ago that while Dewey was on par with Scrooge in terms of ambition, when you considered the usual state of an office or file cabinet lorded over by the late Mr. McDuck, his nephew was miles ahead in terms of cleanliness and orderliness. Dewey was sitting with his back to the door, looking over a set of papers, and daring the phone to ring to bring him some new business.

"Yes?" he said.

"Hubert says that the guests are nearly done with Breakfast."

"Good. We'll have to make sure José sees them off for the day. He has a knack for ensuring repeat business."

Webby nodded.

Dewey turned in his swiveling chair, a few pages of a report in his hand. As she stared at his unadorned neck, Webby idly noted that he has yet to replace that tie he used as an impromptu bandage the year before. "We need more rooms."


"More rooms. I've started thinking we need to buy up the building next door and use it to expand."

"The next building over must have a hundred different rooms," countered Webby, "We would need a much larger staff. We can't risk too many people knowing us, could we?"

Dewey stared at his former personal assistant current housekeeper, and blinked. He then slumped down. "You're right!" He ripped the page in his hands once, twice, three times, and tossed the confetti into the air. "God forbid I become too successful," he snarled out.

Webby placed her hands on her hips, "Now, Dew... Mr. Coot. You know we aren't here to run the business. Zé's bed and breakfast is our cover. We need to be able to pick up and move on at any time."

"But we were doing so well! It was thrilling. For six months we were booked solid straight through the holidays before we petered off in mid-spring. There is a great deal of money to be made on this venture..."

"We can't worry about money right now, Dewey. We have to focus on... on our goals."

"But... But..."

Webby sighed and turned, "I'll be going now. I have work to do."

"Er... all right."

She began to leave the room, and had almost closed the door, when...

"Webby?" He said.

Her heart skipped as she reopened the office door a crack.

There was a pause, where the two ducks tried to feel the other through the thin office door and beyond their own pounding heartbeats.

"Please send José in to see me. Please," Dewey finally said.

After a moment, the door slammed hard, and Dewey was alone. To keep himself from thinking about what Webby said, and the dread feeling that one day he would have to pick up and leave this B&B while it was going so well, he moved the typewriter over from the corner of his desk and loaded in a sheet of Carbon paper he had recycled so many times that it had the faint outlines of as many as ten different monthly reports printed on it. He began to type out that month's report for his records.

Ten minutes went past before a heavy knock sounded, followed by the door opening before Dewey could say 'Come in.'

"My friend! My friend! What would you like to see me about?" Asked José as he instantly sat in the guest chair and made himself comfortable, beginning by lighting up one of his thick cigars. "I've got to see off the lovely couple staying with us, remember?"

"Yes, José, but this is important as well. It's about expanding the business."

José smiled broadly, "Why expand? I think we are doing very well here and now."

"Yes, but we could do better."

"And I suspect young Webigail has heard about this plan."

"Er... Part of it. She vetoed a large part, however, and I need to come up with something to replace it with." He stood from his typing and began to pace in the three feet allowed him. "I think, perhaps, if we can't build our single location up, then the next best plan would be to create more locations of the same size around town."

"Why the urge to build, Dewey?"

"Deuteronomy. You never know who might be listening."

"Alright. Deuteronomy. Why build? We have such a lovely place now, and I am content."

"But I'm not. Your way of working with people is fantastic, and I want to sell that to people... as many people as possible."

"But Deuter... Mr. Coot. If we do that I could not possibly make as many people happy as I do now. If we open two hotels I will only be able to oversee one and the other would suffer unless I were to split my time between them, which would spread me too thin to be of any good use. And if we open three..." He sucked in some smoke and blew it out, "Forgedaboutid."

Dewey then rounded on the parrot, with a lost expression on his face, "Well then I just don't know what you want me to do, José. I try to build up and I can't. I try to build out, and I can't. I'm giving you the benefit of my business expertise here, José, I don't know what you want me to do!"

"I want you to relax, Dewey. We have made enough money over the holidays to live off of until our season starts once again. We won't even need to dip into Hue... Hubert's savings. We are living perfectly sustainable lives here as we are." He then scratched his head under his straw boater, "And of course, what if you all get called away? If the business is too large I cannot run it on my own."

Dewey sighed and sat down, leaning his elbows on his desk. "I don't want to think about that."


"The heating bill is much higher than it was last month. I forgot to tell you that. You may go now." He tried his best to pointedly not look at José. "Go on, José. Go see the guests out."

Distressed at Dewey's moody attitude, José stood. "For what it's worth, Mr. Coot," he said, "It is a very nice plan." He then turned and walked out of the office, using his umbrella to aid his lame leg.

Quickly, hoping not to miss the Storktons before they go out to see the sights of Salvador, José hurried his uneven gait until he was back in the breakfast nook. He looked around and groaned loudly. The Storktons had already left.

Turning on his heel, he left back through the Employee area, waving politely to Huey, who, seeing Uncle José walk past, very quickly ceased his heavy petting session with Amalia and acted like nothing was happening. José walked on, turning towards the kitchen, where Louie was standing with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his forearms plunged into a tub of steaming water.

"I hesitate to comment on another man's family, but your brother is crazy."

"So what else is new?" said Louie, wiping a large platter with a sponge, "What did he do?"

"I tell him I am content with the pousada we have build for ourselves, but he insists we build it larger." José shed his cream-colored jacket and began to roll up his sleeves, before taking up a cloth and helping to dry the dishes Louie washed. "When I say I do not want it and that it would be dangerous, he sulks. Why does he do this?"

"It's nothing to do with you, Joe, don't worry. It's just our upbringing." Louie pulled out a freshly rinsed plate and handed it to José. "Uncle Donald was in poverty most of the time we lived with him. His only regular source of income was working for our Uncle Scrooge for peanuts. The only way he could even make a living wage off of it was for us to help and take home the same wages, then pool them together and give them to Uncle Donald to help him pay for food, and payments on the house."

"Really? I had no idea Donal' was in such rough straits."

"Of course, when Uncle Donald re-upped in the Navy, we all went to live with Uncle Scrooge." Louie smiled and rolled his eyes, "That was an entirely different matter altogether."

"Because he was so rich?"

"Because he was so cheap. It was surreal. We lived on around the same amount of food as we did when we lived with Uncle Donald, but bought on less than a half of a percent of our great Uncle's total income. Uncle Scrooge was a wonderful man, deep down. We all loved him. He'd had a life full of hardships and he had earned everything he had ever had, but his attitudes about business and money were so tight you could bounce a quarter off of them." Louie looked up from a glass he had been rinsing out, before handing it over to José. "Those two were our main parental figures, you have to understand, so naturally the fact that their situations were so different has impacted the three of us pretty hard. Huey and I are much cooler about our money, although I suspect he wasn't hoarding all that money in Switzerland just for his health, but Dewey? He's different." A bowl found its way into Louie's hands and was passed over quickly to José's. "He idolized Uncle Scrooge. I mean, we all did, you couldn't help it. When he was in his teens he was an honest-to-god cowboy for Christ's sake. But Dewey damn near tried to become Scrooge McDuck Jr.

"I remember the winter before Uncle Scrooge passed away. We had all pretty much grown up and had gone our separate ways by then, you understand. Huey had moved out pretty soon after Donald came home from Korea and was off getting his pilot's license, Me and Uncle Donald were still living together and working for Uncle Scrooge for more money than I ever saw him pay anybody; Don't look so impressed it was still less than minimum wage; and the prodigal son Dewey was in India prospecting for gold. Everyone shows up at Uncle Scrooge's cabin on Bear Mountain, even though Huey never forgave Uncle Donald for leaving us to fight the war, he was there. Uncle Donald, Aunt Daisy, and Uncle Scrooge were there. I was there, practicing some rope trick or other I had coaxed out of Scrooge before he got too old to show me. Dewey was, of course, nowhere to be seen.

"Donald and Scrooge were both disappointed, of course, but then a postcard comes to the door. It's from some small town in India where Dewey was staying. It said, 'Can't talk long, my next claim might be rich with ore, Merry Christmas.' Three lines." Louie's grip on the plate he was holding tightened, "Three dirty lines, and Uncle Scrooge was suddenly miles away, talking about his time in the Yukon prospecting, and White Agony Creek, and that same stupid story we've heard a hundred stupid times. You could see it in Uncle Scrooge's eyes. He was so proud of Dewey. So proud, and there I was working for the rich bastard for less than minimum an hour, all of which I gave back to Uncle Donald so he and Aunt Daisy could have the security to get married."

Louie's fist suddenly came down, splashing the water, "I... I couldn't... It's not like I could have gone off to try making my own fortune. I had more important things to worry about. I..." He looked up at José's warm, concerned face, frozen in mid-dry. "I'm sorry. We were talking about Dewey. He always wants to make his own fortune. It's to do with making Uncle Scrooge proud. Something about that." Louie's beak then suddenly went up, "Me? I don't worry about things like that. The old man gave me enough money that I could live off of it for my entire life and still have enough to leave my grandkids. I've got absolutely nothing to feel guilty about." He resumed washing, going quicker now, with false bravado. "I never had money at Uncle Donald's, and At Uncle Scrooge's I had all the money in the world, but couldn't spend any of it. I'm my own man now, and I can spend it on what I like."

Louie finally stopped talking, and José couldn't help but smile. Somehow he understood Louie perfectly, even where Dewey was an untouchable mystery to him.

Suddenly, a ding resounded from the front.

"That is enough washing, Louie... I mean, Louis. Go out front and tell them I will be right with them. I must prepare."

"Sure," said Louie, unrolling his sleeves and straightening the green bowtie he wore as his uniform. He then began walking off.

"Oh. And Louis?"


"Don't leave the window hanging open when you come in at night. It is causing the heating bill to Skyrocket."

"Oh. Alrigh... er... I... Oh..."

José looked back with a mischievous little smile and tapped the side of his beak with a green feathered finger. Louie couldn't help but sigh and think, Oh well, one more person in on the secret can't hurt.

He walked on, out past the chair, where Huey was now entering into heavy petting with Maria, but still with the presence of mind to offer up a discrete high-five behind her back as Louie went past, which he was equally subtle in returning.

Louie walked through the Employee area, then out and behind the counter, where there was a lady goose in dark sunglasses standing, ringing the bell.

"Good morning ma'am," he said in a very practiced fake Brazilian accent, and with the fakest smile anyone had ever offered up, "Mr. Carioca will be out in just a minute."

"Now why would I want to see him when you're right here," she lowered her glasses slowly, revealing her eyes, "Gadgets."

Louie gasped, "G... Goz..." before looking around. The main hall and breakfast nook was empty. "Come on." He said. "Back here."

Gosalyn Mallard vaulted over the counter, and followed Louie back behind the door marked 'Empregados somente.' The two of them passed by Huey, now working over Rosalina, and settled in the hall leading up to the closets and offices, safe from prying ears. Once there, Louie felt secure enough to begin talking.

"Guh... uh... urg..."

Of course, having nothing much to say, his mouth just made funny noises until Gosalyn placed her hand over his mouth.

"Quiet. You are a difficult family to find. You know that?"

"That's for the best, isn't it? Internationally wanted terrorists and all that."

"Even so, I've been searching for a week before I found out that José Carioca had set up a new hostel here in Salvador." She look off her glasses and coat, revealing the much more casual affair underneath, with the mere flash of purple underneath that, "Three layers in summer weather in Brazil. I do not recommend it."

"You're telling me." He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Anyway, what are things like back home, and in Duckburg."

"Not so good," she said, whipping off her shirt and revealing the double-breasted coat underneath, "Farid Kagan has whipped everyone up into a frenzy to find you guys. He put Gizmoduck on the case a year back, and everyone is getting antsy to find you. Duckburg is paranoia city at the moment, but Saint Canard is even worse."

"Really? Why?"

"Since one of the terrorists was a masked hero, then naturally all masked heroes are to blame. We've been made scapegoats. Gizmoduck has lead the campaign, and since he is firmly in Farid's pocket, Farid is leading the campaign."

"Campaign to what?"

"It was passed a few months after you left," She tied the mask to her face before retrieving the hat from her person, "Register, reveal your identity, and continue crime fighting in the public eye; Retire and never crime fight again; OR continue crime fighting in the shadows and risk getting caught and sent to jail. Since most of the street-level newbies have opted to retire, the big boys have had to stoop to the surge in petty crime, allowing upper-level superbads to slip through the cracks." She shook her head, now fully in costume. "It's bad, and Gizmoduck isn't doing a very good job of inspiring confidence in the community."

"Sounds terrible."

"It is. Darkwing Duck officially retired from Saint Canard nightlife about two months later, once the pressure had gotten too great." She sighed, but quickly smiled again. "However, Business. I come bearing a gift."

"A gift?"

"Yes. Dad's connections may have come in handy. S.H.U.S.H finally got back to me not too long ago with an offer. Turns out they are quite suspicious about Farid Kagan's sudden rise to power, and of Dewey Duck's sudden disappearance afterwards. They are willing to begin investigating Farid, if..."


"We can gather enough evidence that something funny is happening."

Louie nodded, "Wonderful! We can do that!" He grasped Gosalyn by the hand tightly, "Come on, Darkwing. You're all suited up. I think it's time you told everyone else the plan."


"Finally!" Called out Huey, ripping off his ridiculous Bowtie and loosening the top few buttons of his shirt, "I've been waiting for this. No more dealing with irritable honeymooners for me!"

Stuffed into Dewey's tiny office, the three duck boys, the three parrot girls, José carioca, Webby, and Gosalyn stood or sat. The minor dimensions of the room were just enough to hold the entire party, although with some stacking when it came to Huey and the girls.

Dewey sat at his desk, although his view was partially obscured by Louie sitting next to his typewriter. He did not seem as happy about the news as the rest of them. Webby, standing over his shoulder, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Isn't this great, Dewey?"

"Of... Of course. Yes." He leaned his elbows on the desk and put his fingers together, being careful to avoid being crowded out by Louie. "But the B&B..."

"Who cares about the B&B?" Snapped Louie, who had begun to whip off the vest he had been wearing. "If we can find proof, we can end this."

"Yes... but..."

Louie's face rounded on Dewey, his expression one of mild incredulity.

"What?" said Dewey, drawing away from Louie's piercing stare.

"You don't want to leave, do you?"

Everyone in the room mentally took a step back from the conversation, more often mentally than literally, due to the size of the room. Louie twisted his body around, sitting face-to-face with his brother.

Dewey's eyebrows drew in. "So what? I... I like it here. It's a good city. Is that a crime?"

"This has nothing to do with Salvador and you know it," Louie extended a finger towards his brother, "This is about you running the business here, isn't it?"

"I... Well... There's no shame in it."

"I can't believe you!" Louie suddenly cried out, grasping the top of his head in his hands, "The only reason we helped Joe set up this stupid hostel was to give us a cover for living in Salvador. We have to be able to pick up and move on at a moment's notice. We KNEW this going in. I know you. You've been going at this like you think Uncle Scrooge would have, I know it. You're trying to take this business and turn a profit, I know, but there are more important things to worry about here. We need to focus on Farid Kagan and McDuck Enterprises. Do you understand?"

"Of course I do! I... There's no shame in wanting to be successful. Especially not here."

Louie's cheeks were beginning to blush in anger. "Another time, Another place, I could let you do whatever the hell you wanted, but this is too important. Farid Kagan has stolen from us. From our family. If you don't want to get back at him after that then I really don't understand where you're coming from."

Webby placed her hands on Dewey's shoulders, "Louie, stop."

"No! I won't stop." He turned back towards Dewey. "Do you want to go, or don't you?"

Dewey said nothing and in the process said everything that need be said.

"I can't believe this! You don't want to get Uncle Scrooge's business back!"

"Louie!" Huey was suddenly up, and with his hand pulling on the back of Louie's collar roughly, "Enough."

Webby had knelt down next to Dewey. "Dewey. I'm going to ask. Do you want to... stay here?"

Dewey paused for a moment, to look into every pair of eyes that looked at him, before looking down at his desk, "Yes. I do." His hands resting on his legs bunched into fists. "I... I'm happy here."

"You don't see happy," muttered Louie, before he was silenced by a nasty look from Darkwing.

"I am. It's... It's my very own business. I took Huey's money, and José's strengths, and spun them into my own money. It was... it is... good for me. I'm happier here than I ever was in McDuck Enterprises."

"And so you're just going to let it go?" yelled Louie, "Just let Uncle Scrooge's business fall into the hands of that lunatic?"


"After all that, you'll just betray our Uncle like that? He was... You were his favorite and you're turning your back on him!" Louie stood, grasping Dewey's collar in his hands, "You selfish...!"

"LOUIE!" cried Webby in surprise and Huey in warning. Louie softened his grasp before letting go. He turned away from his brother, before walking out of the room without another word. The pause in the conversation was wide before Darkwing Duck left the room to go chase after Louie.

Webby touched Dewey's shoulders again, "Dewey. We can stay."

Dewey turned his bill up to look at her.

"They don't need us anyway. I'll only get in the way, and you can run the pousada with Zé."

Huey stepped forward, "Are you sure Webby?"

"Yes. We'll stay behind. You all go back to Calisota with Miss Darkwing." She smiled. "Give them hell for us."

One by one, each person left the office, first Huey, then each of the girls, then José, until only Dewey and Webby were left. Once the last of them were gone, Dewey buried his face in his hands.

"I don't know what to do."

"You do what your heart says, Dewey," said Webby, "Right or wrong, that’s what you have to do."

Suddenly, both of their heads snapped to attention, there was a strange tinkling noise, and the scream of one of the three Carioca girl. Instantly, Dewey was on his feet, and was out the office door.


Heat and the crackling sounds of fire greeted them as they entered the main lobby. The large picture windows were broken from the outside, and bottle after bottle was being thrown in, spreading the alcohol-fueled flames along the carpets and drapes. Huey was carrying Maria, who was grasping his neck with all of her strength, and José was shielding the other two girls with his own body. They were trapped in the corner by the flames which threatened to consume them soon. Louie and Darkwing were nowhere to be seen.

Thinking fast, Dewey ran back into the Employee area and took out a CO2 Fire extinguisher, readying and finally wielding it against the flames. The white foamy smoke poured out, giving Webby a trail to run over to retrieve the group. Taking the hands of the two girls on foot, she ran towards the front door and looked out the small window. She saw a team of dirty men she recognized from Rio, the VPR, fighting Darkwing Duck and the Green Phantom. The two crimefighters were coming out on top.

Webby turned, "Come on! We're going."

Suddenly, Dewey's eyes went wide. "Wait!" he yelled, before he turned on his heels and ran back through the fire towards the Employee exit, using the extinguisher to clear the path. As he ran, Webby screamed for him, but was swept out the door by José, using the most calming tone he could muster.

Dewey was running through the thin hall, aware that if the fire spread to the flammable linens at the entrance he could be well and truly trapped. He opened the door to his office and quickly went to work at the small safe he kept in the office embedded in the wall. He spun the wheel once before he began the combination. 1 left, 9 right, 67 left. The door opened and Dewey reached for the box inside, hugging it to himself. He also grabbed a glass dome, and broke it against the edge of the safe, using his fingers to fish the 1875 American Dime out of the glass. He placed it securely in his pocket, with his own number one tied to his pocket with a string.

With Cashbox pressed to his chest like a baby, and dimes secured in his pocket, Dewey rushed out of the office into the hall, where dark smoke was rising up out of the door to the main lobby. With a sinking feeling, he rushed up to the securely closed door and felt, drawing his hand back at the sheer heat he felt through it. He looked around quickly, and opened up the linen closet, pulling out one of the clean sheets, and then ran over to the small employee bathroom, soaking it thoroughly. He used the wet sheet to grasp the hot door handle. He twisted carefully, before jumping back into the linen closet with the wet sheet over his head to escape the burning back draft coming in through the opened door. It died down momentarily, revealing a waist-high column of fire.

Heat even more intense than ever, Dewey jumped through the fire as fast as he could, shielding his face with the damp sheet, and ran towards the door, fire licking at his feet and legs. Soon, he reached the front door, and threw off the wet sheet, which had been flash-dried by the run through the fire. He grasped the front door and opened.

Before he could run out, however, A man, a mean-looking dog, held a revolver up, threatening to shoot. Dewey gritted his beak and hugged his cash box to himself, bracing for pain.

CLONK! The man's eyes rolled up into his head as he was smashed on the back of the head. He fell to the ground to reveal the Green Phantom, holding a large, burning wooden pole.

"Can we go now?" said the Green Phantom.


By the Sea Duck, José's family and the Ducks, including Webby and Darkwing, stood around the unconscious body of one of the VPR revolutionaries. Louie, who had the foresight to get out of his costume to avoid getting "Stuck" in his secret identity, splashed the man with a bucket of water to wake him up.

Spluttering, the dog shook his head and tried to breathe, coughing up water as he did. Darkwing then grabbed his head and forced it up to look up at José Carioca, who began to converse with him in Portuguese. When the man didn't give the right answer, José shook his head, and that gave Huey permission to hit him anywhere he wanted. This went on for about an hour.

Webby had wandered off, not wanting to watch the violence unfold, and found Dewey sitting by the Sea Duck, still hugging the cash box to his chest.


"...It's gone, isn't it?"

Webby looked back off towards the town and sighed as she followed the column of smoke up from the center of town and up, twisting off into the sky. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"I was doing it, Webigail. I was running something of my own. Even if it was Huey's money, and José's talents, I was the one running the place. I handled the money, I owned the business, I advertized, I brought in new clients..." He shook his head, "But now it's... gone..."


They were stopped by a voice, Louie, who was replacing his lame vest with the green plaid jacket he was more accustomed to, "He talked."

Webby answered, "What did he say?"

Louie looked directly at Dewey as he said, "It was a payoff from McDuck Enterprises. Farid Kagan paid them to flush us out."

Dewey looked up, but did not say a word.

"Look, Dewey. I'm sorry I got so angry earlier. I just..."

"No..." began Dewey, placing the cashbox reverentially on the ground, "No more apologies. No more crawling into little balls and trying not to cry. No more retreating." He looked up, and his eyes were fierce with focused anger, quite different from the uncontrollable rage of his family. "Farid has taken too much away from me. If we don't stop him, He'll keep coming after us."

He began to walk towards the rest of the group, his back straight, and his head high. His hand was snuck into his pocket to touch the two dimes within.

"We'll get him. We'll hand him over to S.H.U.S.H on a silver platter," said Dewey as he walked with Louie towards the others, followed by Webby, holding the cash box, "by any means necessary."

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